“Tradition is the illusion of permanence”
From Woody Allen’s film, Deconstructing Harry (1997)

Opening

1Looking back at the two-decade history of the Polish Second Republic (1919-1939), we are able to describe an era of great hope and transformation. Looking back at the last quarter-century of post-communist transformation (1989 – present) – that is, at the history of the Third Republic – we are choked by the proximity of events, by a surplus of emotion, and by partisan political conflict. In effect, we are not describing a transformative epoch; rather, we are entangling history with politics. This is, on the one hand, the inevitable consequence of the unity of space and time, in which the author/ historian is – whether he likes it or not - an actor in the theater of public events. On the other hand, it is the result of a continuing insensitivity among Poles to the modernization of the historian’s craft; if embraced, such modernization would allow us to build a new research instrumentarium, by which we could, in turn, gain some distance from still “hot” events. Or is it simply a fact that the historian’s research instrumentarium is doomed to fail when describing recent phenomena, in which “history” is not so much an academic discipline as it is one of the main actors (subjects) in current political disputes?

3Several issues – the conflict over former President Lech Wałęsa’s biography (not just its political aspects); ongoing disputes about the foundation myth of the Third Republic; the continuing “historical initiation” of the Fourth Republic (today, through the back door); and finally, the return to irrationality in the debate “with” and “about” the Germans and the Russians – indicate that we are still at the center of not so much a dispute among historians, but an ideological struggle that reflects a question that Polish historian Jerzy Jedlicki once posed: what kind of civilization do Poles need? Narrowing down Professor Jedlicki’s question, I would ask today: what history, and what memory, do Poles need?

5I would argue that the categories employed in the “discourses of the Third and Fourth Republics” are relevant in relation to wider ideological divisions in Poland at the beginning of the twenty-first century. It is justified to conclude that the dynamics and philosophy of the dispute have led to a hardening of argumentative strategies. Instead of polyphony in the public sphere, and instead of methodological-conceptual diversity in the academic sphere, an attempt at political exclusion and self-ennoblement has been put on stage, all of which has been fostered by – to employ a concept used by the American sociologist Anselm L. Strauss – a shortage of “arenas” for dispute - that is, for example, of those public media that would make possible a direct, matter-offact confrontation among adversaries. Today, that role is still being played by the Catholic weekly magazine Tygodnik Powszechny and, to a lesser extent, by Przegląd Polityczny. To a certain degree, it has also been played by publications put out by one of the main players in the “discourse of the Fourth Republic,” namely the Instytut Pamięci Narodowej [The Institute of National Remembrance, IPN], from which the above-cited Czyżewski article comes. The use of antagonistic discourses [“The Third Republic versus the Fourth Republic”] is deceptive when defining historiographical debate. While I - as a participant in these debates in the public sphere - would without hesitation categorize myself as a representative of the “discourse of the Third Republic,” I would argue that Poles – in the academic sphere – need to carry out an extensive search for new, more accurate categories to define various trends in Polish historiography.

Dimension One: History as Politikum, or On the Need to Choose

1. “Construction” and Choice

6The two epigraphs with which I began this work are divided vertically by 130 years and horizontally by transatlantic space. But it seems to me that even today, despite the passage of time and the great distance involved, they make up the qualitative framework, indeed the axiological framework, of the Polish (not only) public debate about tradition, memory and history. I consider both, for different reasons, to be broad indicators of this debate.

8Harry Block, the main character of Woody Allen’s Deconstructing Harry, is a neurotic writer from Manhattan with a complex psychology and a Jewish family background. He rejects tradition entirely. In an argument with his half-sister, an orthodox, fanatical Jewess with a weakness for the perverse, he declares that “tradition is an illusion.” In the individual dimension, in an attempt to build a distinct identity, many people try to free themselves from the family ballast; some actually manage to make such a break. But in the collective dimension, the mechanism for an abrupt “break with tradition” is an illusion, and when it does happen, it is with the help of authoritarian (totalitarian) state structures.

9Anthony Giddens, a towering figure in modern sociology, formulated concisely the quintessence of what occupies the space marked out by these two epigraphs:

• 6 “Historia i jej rekonstrukcje,” [Teresa Stylińska talks with Anthony Giddens] Tygodnik Powszechny, (...)

Most nations refer to historical myths, and those myths are based neither on the past, nor on a reconstruction of that past. The creation of nations is the extraction of those values which may be useful now. […] The past can be constructed from various points of view. Nations usually shape their sense of identity by focusing on certain issues and ignoring others.⁶

11In the last few years, disputes in Poland over history’s place in the public sphere have apparently calmed; it is sometimes said that we have ended our fascination with the “new politics of the past” only to fall into a vacuum, in which the “discourse of the Fourth Republic” drifts along the margins. But this is only apparently true. I believe that we find ourselves in a dangerous stage of transition, in which ideological-national interpretations of history, politically promoted at the beginning of the twenty-first century, are strengthening and spreading. Basil Kerski reflected accurately on this phenomenon in his recent book Homer na Placu Poczdamskim (2008, Homer at Potsdamer Platz). His views are particularly interesting in that, in light of his own biography, they are rooted with varying degrees in four cultures (Polish, German, Iraqi and Jewish). The selection and construction of his own self-identity is an inherent part of his life-experience and personality.

Self-critical debates on the subject of identity have in fact not yet ended, though I have the impression today that many people, feeling a certain level of fatigue and exhaustion, yearn for a clear vision of history, for positive myths. Critics of self-critical patriotism and intercultural dialogue are currently experiencing their heyday. One could clearly feel this climate in the campaign leading up to the most recent parliamentary and presidential elections [2005], in which a central role was played by the issue of corruption and socio-political issues, but also in which competing visions of history and different concepts of the Polish nation and its relationship to neighboring countries became important elements in the political struggle.[…] Today’s critics of the culture of self-critical patriotism are connected by an old-fashioned view of international politics as a Darwinian struggle of nations; it is a perspective that excludes the existence of pluralistic societies.

• 8 From Basil Kerski, “Samokrytyczny patriotyzm i kultura dialogu,” in Basil Kerski, Homer na placu Po (...)

It is alarming that critics of self-critical patriotism are found not only among former communist activists or extreme nationalists, but also among young, liberal-conservative intellectuals.[…] Only answers to critical questions about the history of Poland can form the basis for a new national strategy - a strategy with chances of success.⁸

12“Confrontational-national” views are promoted and reinforced above all by decision-makers (not all of whom are historians) at the IPN and by its politics-oriented educational strategy. Another large Polish institution of public education, the Museum of Polish History (which concentrates its activities more on public history events like exhibitions than on a deepened sense of the historical record) accepts this state of affairs by avoiding controversial debates that could foster new perspectives.

13The IPN’s activity is a history in itself. In 1999, the act to establish the institute came into force. Various hopes were tied to the institute at its creation. It was built on the basis of the decades-old Główna Komisja Badania Zbrodni przeciwko Narodowi Polskiemu [Main Commision for the Reserach into Crimes Against the Polish Nation], which investigated and prosecuted crimes from the Second World War (until 1990, it was called the Główna Komisja Badania Zbrodni Hitlerowskich, or the Main Commission for Research into Hitlerite Crimes). The IPN inherited the Commission’s archives, its excellent library, and several of its prosecutors. In the 1990s, the Main Commission took up the investigation and prosecution of Stalinist crimes. The eventual transfer of such responsibilities to the IPN was natural.

14The IPN was originally intended to solve problems related to the archives of intelligence services of the communist Polska Rzeczpospolita Ludowa (People’s Republic of Poland, PRL) by taking their contents out of the hands of free Poland’s intelligence agencies, and thus eliminating the temptation to use the document “folders” (in Polish: teczki) as a tool in wider political games. Much more than that, politicians were not to have access to these records. The archives were supposed to be the subject of research for historians, the goal being to gain knowledge about the PRL, about the mechanisms used to govern communist Poland, and about the Polish people’s struggle for freedom and their repression. It was about gaining an understanding of the past in all its various dimensions. For this purpose, the Biuro Edukacji Publicznej [Public Education Office] was established within the IPN, where dozens of historians with outstanding capabilities found employment; recruitment focused mainly on graduates from distinguished Polish universities.

15The act establishing the IPN was to bring redress to victims of the communist system and to people who had struggled against it in the name of liberty and an independent Poland. The category of “aggrieved” was thus introduced – that is, a person who had been the subject of surveillance and repression. For several years, the IPN issued certificates to those aggrieved, which gave them the privilege to access records collected against them and to obtain copies. The act was also to serve to stigmatize the Urząd Bezpieczeństwa [Office of Public Security, UB], which had been responsible for repression directed against Polish citizens, along with its successor, the Służba Bezpieczeństwa [Security Service, SB].The key institution within the IPN was its president, whose method of appointment and powers were set in such a way that he would not be susceptible to pressure from politicians, including heads of government; he would also not be subject to pressure from the intelligence services, including those established after 1989. Appointment to the position of president was a complicated procedure, giving him a powerful position within state organs. The 11-member IPN Council was intended to be a pluralistic body; nine of its members were appointed by the Sejm (Polish parliament) from among candidates submitted by the various political parties. The Krajowa Rada Sądownictwa [National Council of the Judiciary of Poland] appointed two members, who were to be approved by the Sejm.

16At least this was the theory. After a short period when an open formula was being shaped under the presidency of Leon Kieres (2000-2005), actual practice succumbed to the pressures of politicians and historians with clear national-conservative views:

• 9 Andrzej Friszke, “Jak hartował się radykalizm Kurtyki,” Gazeta Wyborcza, April 7, 2009, 18

Prosecutors, firmly convinced of their own exceptionality and fenced off by their official duties, avoided contact with historians, who in turn were struck by the prosecutors’ stiffness and weak knowledge of the past.⁹

19Due to political pressure applied by the governing national-populist coalition of 2005-2007 led by Prawo i Sprawiedliwość (PiS, or “Law and Justice,” under Lech and Jarosław Kaczyński), moral-political criteria of purity were introduced into IPN activities:

• 12 Ibid. An editorial note in the periodical Glaukopis illustrates the kind of language used by some I (...)

The so-called ideology of “moral intensification” corresponded well with the change of personnel. The President [Lech Kaczyński] was a supporter of broad lustration and de-communization. Close ties [between the IPN and] the new parliamentary coalition developed quickly, as illustrated by changes made to the act by which the IPN had been created. The Institute took over the functions of lustration, which then dominated its activities. The status of “aggrieved” was deleted, which inevitably shifted the emphasis from relief for victims toward an interest in [investigating] the intelligence agents.¹²

A new and central actor on the stage in the dispute over the politics of memory (or, using the German term, Erinnerungspolitik) was born in late 2008, namely the Museum of the Second World War, which is to open its doors in 2014. And soon, a Polish-German history textbook will be completed, a project coordinated by the Joint Polish-German Textbook Commission (JP-GTC; Polsko-Niemiecka Komisja Podręcznikowa, or Deutsch-polnische Schulbuchkommission).

2. “Construction” in a Museum

20The line of confrontation today crosses through the vision of the Museum of the Second World War and the selection of central, common political holidays that would represent – in the collective memory of Poles - the end of “real socialism” and the beginning of the post-1989 democratic development. Politicians are present in debates about history in a new way, which is significant. Bogdan Zdrojewski, the Polish Minister of Culture and National Heritage (2007-2014), summarized his attitude toward the “politics of memory” as follows:

• 13 Bogdan Zdrojewski, “Dajmy Polakom być dumnymi ze swojej historii,” Gazeta Wyborcza, November 14, 20 (...)

For twenty years we have witnessed a dispute which has weakened authority and distorted the image of Polish history in our eyes and in the eyes of the world. Who is satisfied by this dispute over the politics of the past or, if you will, the politics of memory? […] What is dominant here is the instrumental treatment of history, the propensity to appropriate the right to dates, events or characters … One thing that strikes me is a lack of humility among politicians issuing unequivocal moral judgments, who elevate some to the altar, and sentence others to damnation. For values and symbols to function, neither our anointment nor regulation of rights is needed.[…] Our mission is to protect and cherish the national memory and symbols associated with it, and to learn how to tell the history of Poland in a language that is modern and attractive. Let us finally be understood by Europe and the world!¹³

21To be sure, Zdrojewski’s statement includes a central (governmental) determination to create a politics of memory, but the fact is that it also includes a spirit of openness and a rejection of the instrumentalisation of history by current politics. Though it employs such terms as “national pride” and “national policy,” which continue the language of the “new politics of the past” (at least on the surface), and though it lacks sufficient emphasis on polyphony in the mainstream narrative and support for minority discourses, the statement has neither the tone of exclusion, nor of programmatic indoctrination from above.

• 17 Piotr Majewski, Paweł Machcewicz, fragments of the “Zarys koncepcji programowej muzeum II wojny świ (...)

We will not convince tourists from London, or from Vienna, to accept our argument – something about which [Polish journalist] Piotr Semka is so concerned - by creating another exposition exclusively on the martyrdom of the Polish nation or to the glory of Polish arms. Students from Germany, Holland and France will come to see the museum in Gdańsk, and they will take something permanent from the experience, only when Polish issues are united for them with European issues, known by them through their school, cinema, and television.¹⁷

None of my comments so far means that the Museum’s concept should not be criticized. Indeed, it must be criticized, because it should fulfill not only its primary mission, which is to build a framework for a modern museum exhibition; it should also serve as a vehicle for alternative methods of conducting public dialogue about history. From my personal experience with the project, it seems that the museum’s initial program-concept points too weakly to a concrete narrator and does not adequately define its audience groups. The presentation of the history of World War II in the European context does not have to mean seeking a universal, default narrator. The facility was established in Gdańsk, in Poland, and its visitors will be predominantly Poles. Both the authors of the concept and their critics have repeatedly referred to a foreign audience, but the profile of this audience is unclear, since tourists from London, Berlin and Lwów have different perspectives and expectations that cannot be reconciled in one museum. Tourists visit museums in foreign countries to become acquainted with the local view of history, even if the topic is a global phenomenon. For this reason, the museum should show the war from the Polish perspective, though without pathos, without trying to consolidate national or patriotic thinking by highlighting Polish martyrdom. A museum aimed at Polish society has a greater chance of offering an understandable narrative about World War II, and would be more legible than an exhibition that tries to send a universal message with as many topics covered as possible.

24Since a museum narrative must focus on essential topics, the guiding notion here could be “Polish fortunes,” and the greatest challenge involves how to build a meta-narrative directed at a Polish audience that is, at the same time, affective for “other” audiences as well. From the program it is clear that the authors have seriously considered this question. However, they have not yet found a clear answer.

• 20 “Nie gardź nami, emigracjo. Listy Iwaszkiewicza i Jeleńskiego,” Gazeta Wyborcza, January 10–11, 200 (...)

Milosz’s article, in my opinion, gives foreigners the key to understanding Polish literature. […] Oddly, people (writers) who write “negatively” about their own nation bring the greatest prestige not only to their own literature, but to their own people. Who in the West today would know about the vitality of Romanian literature - if not for Cioran and Ionesco bad-mouthing their countrymen?
Does it seem to you that, as “ambassadors of France,” it is Sartre, Mauriac and Genet – or Romains, Duhamel and Guéhenno – who contribute most to the prestige of France?²⁰

• 22 Drago Jančar, “Filozofia prowincji,” Gazeta Wyborcza, January 3–4, 2009.

For the philosophy of the province, what is especially characteristic is the fact that its world is the only world, and that world alone is interesting. Once this condition is met, a wide range of possible conspiracy theories, connections, and examples of perfidious defamation and slander develop. Above all, no one represents a sufficiently large value, and his works are not worth much, because one need not call anything by name. The deeper the province, the less valuable is anything created locally, in the eyes of its people; the more people are petty, the more serious are the conflicts and quarrels.²²

3. “Construction” in School

28The Polish-German history textbook project, which was started in May 2008, is another test of how the “politics of memory” is created. From the very beginning, the bilateral nature of the project imposed a new form of cooperation on the parties involved. At the same time, the fact that the project was initiated by the Polish and German governments has raised concerns about the borders of independence between scholarship and politics. The JP-GTC is expecting support from both governments and does not foresee political pressure coming from them. But if such pressures were to appear, the project would make no sense. The structure of the project calls for the formation of a Governing Board: on the Polish side, there are representatives of the Ministries of Education, Culture and Foreign Affairs; on the German side, representatives of the Conference of the Ministers of Education and Cultural Affairs of the Länder (Ständige Konferenz der Kultusminister der Länder), the Brandenburg Minister of Education, and the Minister of Foreign Affairs. The Polish and German JP-GTC chairmen are also members of the board. At this point in time, there is a thick line separating politics from specific projects. The Governing Board defines the space in which a project operates, secures financial resources, and supports the introduction of the textbook into schools. Other works are managed by the Council of Experts, which determines the substantive criteria. Its members are scholars and educators appointed by the JP-GTC. The Council decides what issues should be addressed in the textbook, and selects the authors.

29As the project is implemented, I do not fear arguments over the interpretation of any historical event. A much greater problem will come as a result of differing educational traditions. But this is precisely where the project presents great opportunity. From confrontation (taken constructively) will emerge not some sort of artificial, politically correct “common denominator” of historical processes, but a true common narrative. Certainly, the definition of controversial events will not be easy. But I can imagine that modern teaching techniques offer creative possibilities for the description of historical phenomena that cannot be found even in the best journalism and most popular history books. The dichotomy in our historical experiences is an excellent point to exploit. Poles and Germans have variously defined events, two different lived experiences, and – through that didactic element that inspires questions – we can show “both sides.” We can say: “They understand it that way, and we understand it this way.” Is it always the case that only one side is right?

30When we talk about our own history, Henryk Sienkiewicz’s “Kali formula” often appears: “If Kali steal a cow, it is good; if someone steal cow from Kali, it is wrong.” In another context: “We conquered, we were larger and stronger, and that is good. When we were attacked, we of course defended ourselves, and the conquerors were bad.” But the point here is that we have a chance to widen our perspective. The German cultural sociologist Wolf Lepenies, one of the finest representatives of European sociology of culture, discussed this issue in an address praising the French-German textbook. Interpreting the value of the Franco-German work, he stated that the real challenge – not only for Poland and Germany, but also for Europe - is the Polish-German textbook, precisely because once Germany receives Poland and its historical experience, it will receive much of the rest of Eastern Europe as well; today, the Eastern European historical experiences are practically absent in the German discourse. We have a chance to put into general circulation an exceptionally interesting narrative on such topics as asymmetrical processes of nation development and the Second World War. The Polish experience has taken place on the periphery; we are not the center. But we bring to the table an entirely different perspective on history. The German and Soviet occupations – to take just two examples – function often beyond the imagination of our western neighbors. With this in mind, the role of the textbook gains greater universal potential, as a general European experience.

4. The “Construction” of Cultural Memory and Individual Identity

32I would like to return to the initial metaphor regarding the construction of memory, to the argument that the community of a modern nation is a construction . Although such a term sounds technical in everyday use, the idea is that national elites create certain signs, symbols and annual rituals (anniversaries), which they then seek to introduce into general circulation, and around which they try to build a sense of communal cohesion. With this in mind, we can say that anniversaries are “invented,” though at the same time it is important that the people feel an emotional connection with such dates that are fixed, over time, through systematic celebration. I know of no country that has not tried to mobilize its society around anniversaries – that is, with a positive message, a values system, of which the anniversary is a fragment. It is a natural form of communication within the community, which needs an indicative sign for one to be able to say, “I am a Pole, because …” (here, you can insert the symbolic dates and events that allow us to understand one another, and to border ourselves off from the external “other”). The anniversary is part of the “foundational myth” for any society that wants to establish a sense of itself as community.

33Take, for example, the monument and how it functions: it is built to commemorate someone or something, to initiate something around itself, and then to ritualize a symbolic anniversary that is important for the nation. But a monument lives only so long as political manifestations are ritualized around it, as long as it communicates an idea. Sometimes – and this is apparent in our immediate surroundings – a monument “dies,” becoming little more than a dead element on the landscape, to which collective emotions are no longer tied.

34It is quite natural that certain anniversaries are created based on current day needs. When collective memory is “written,” it is the reflection not of any record of events from the past but of a particular set of political and social circumstances. From the great reservoir of events, such as battles, those that are, at any particular moment, most communicative to the public are a matter of selection. Parenthetically, I might add that, in Poland today, anniversaries are not mass events. As national holidays, they are widely viewed simply as days off work; social participation in their observance is moderate, with the reason for this relative apathy perhaps being their schematic form. To what extent does that form correspond to people’s real expectations? Is it possible that the Polish people’s moderate social commitment to national anniversaries reflects their attitude toward state holidays in general, and/or to the fact that these holidays are celebrated largely from the top down?

35Controversy over the “selection of an anniversary” is inevitable, given that anniversaries are often, if not always, forged in the context of political dispute; decisions come down to choosing one interpretation of history over another. Such a process happens in a variety of dimensions. In the case of the French Revolution, it took the form of a collision of two world views. In Germany after the fall of the Berlin Wall, there was a long and intense debate about the appropriate national holiday before the date was finally set at 3 October – that is, the date the former East Germany was attached to the Federal Republic; the holiday was given the name “Tag der Deutschen Einheit” (Day of German Unity).Earlier, two dates had been in the running: 3 October and 9 November. The latter date, as it turned out, is connected to too many anniversaries and contains enormous potential for controversy: it was on 9 November that the Berlin Wall fell in 1989, but other important events are also associated with 9 November, including a pogrom in the Third Reich (in 1938, so-called Kristallnacht); Hitler’s failed coup (1923); and the outbreak of the leftist revolution and the announcement of the first German Republic (1918). The historic significance of “9 November” was thus huge. At the time, as an observer of the German process, I thought it would be interesting if Germany would chose just such a date as its most important, but in the end the Germans set the holiday at 3 October, which carries a positive message: “Germans are once again united.” Debate concluded with a top-down decision which, although criticized, has become widely accepted; today, no one boycotts 3 October as a national holiday in Germany.

37After World War I, the “founding myth” of the new Poland was the victorious war against the Bolsheviks in 1920; it united the nation, previously broken into three partitions for over 100 years. But after the fall of communism in 1989 we also had great dates to choose from, which we probably continue to have: 31 August 1980 and 4 June 1989.These are, in my opinion, two key dates. The question remains, which one of them to choose. The fact that we have not already made this choice represents a loss for all Poles, and now the issue has become part of a debate that is no longer so much political as it is a matter of stubborn, inter-party rivalry. No one has a vision of how to build that “something” for the community of Polish citizens (including those Poles too young to have experienced the breakthrough events of 1989), that “something” that would provide a positive message for the future. We do not really argue whether or not 4 June 1989 (the date on which elections took place paving the way for the creation of Tadeusz Mazowiecki’s non-communist government), or the August Agreements of 31 August 1980 (between workers in Gdańsk and the PRL leadership), or the Round Table Talks (between the communists and Lech Wałęsa’s Solidarity, which led to the 4 June elections), are foundational civic dates for the Polish nation, and there is no dispute over the strategy for building such an anniversary. The dramatic question is: do we really want to celebrate the rebirth of a sovereign Poland after 1989? The alternative is to completely reject these anniversaries and build a negative message about the Third Republic (which is largely what advocates of a Fourth Republic do). It is sad that, after the fall of communism in Poland, there has not been the political will - or perhaps the political imagination – to build not only a new, free market society, but also a foundation myth that establishes a new social identity in the wake of the great transformations of 1989. No political force has made the effort, and that is too bad, because the emotional connection with the breakthrough events of 1989 has loosened, and its universal dimension has been lost. Today, one must begin the construction of a “living date” anniversary practically from scratch. Perhaps only the grandchildren of this peaceful revolution will make such a “communal” choice.

Dimension Two: History as Method, or On the Need for Imagination and Interdisciplinarity

1. Historiography

42At the center of research trends in Poland today, there remains a solid, workshop-oriented, traditional, and positivist historiography (mainly event history), which defends itself by the integrity of its analysis and its diversified source base; the latter virtue allows the research instrumentarium to modernize and to avoid the trap of narrating only “how it was in fact.” The work of “IPN historians,” promoted so widely by the media, fits nicely into this traditional vein, broadly defined. In the opinion of many of its representatives, “access to the files” designates the only correct way to learn about the past. The mindless promotion of the “folder/teczka” fetish leads to a simplified claim that only “secret” sources, not accessible to ordinary mortals, mark off the paradigm of “objective truth.” The difference between serious study of event history and the falsely conceived mission to find “objective truth” was presented in an insightful article by a doyen of Polish historiography, Wiktoria Śliwowska, who reminds us of the rudiments of the historian’s research instrumentarium, and highlights - against that background - the tendencies set forth (fortunately not always realized!) by the standards of the IPN:

• 42 Wiktoria Śliwowska, “Dr Jekyll i Mr IPN. Historia i teczki,” Gazeta Wyborcza, June 13-14, 2009.

The historian must strive not only to reconstruct a given reality, but also to understand the background of events, the circumstances in which people acted. It is easy to condemn, but difficult to understand a complicated past. [… Meanwhile, in the IPN] thick volumes are being produced, into which are being thrown, with no real consideration, further evidence incriminating various persons now deceased (and therefore not able to defend themselves), and elderly people still alive – known and unknown. The impression is created that the entire PRL – not only in the early Stalinist years, but throughout the entire period – was a UB kingdom, which no one was able to resist.⁴²

Jerzy Jedlicki and two younger researchers, Magdalena Micińska and Maciej Janowski, recently set a standard for historical research in a three-volume publication entitled Dzieje inteligencji polskiej do roku 1918 (History of the Polish Intelligentsia to 1918). Historiographically, it is located precisely at the intersection of disputes between various research models. Its narrative axis is established in the title’s “intelligentsia,” a term which needed to be defined in order to achieve the work’s clear and consistent narrative. Based on the analysis of the virtues and dangers of modern methodological tendencies, Jedlicki, Micińska and Janowski made a clear choice, which was to establish a coherent narrative axis that does not lose the individuality of each volume’s author. Jedlicki gave expression to the meaning of this choice:

• 43 Jerzy Jedlicki, Foreword to Maciej Janowski, „Narodziny inteligencji 1750–1831,” vol.1, in Dzieje i (...)

We must reconcile ourselves with the ambiguity that comes with this collective of names and work with it, maybe even discern its benefits, since a blur of semantic distinctions reflects the chronologically indistinct nature of actual divisions, hierarchies and roles. A living society […] is not made up, after all, of separate compartments, to which we attach plates with the names of species. Such is the fate of the social historian that he is condemned to using concepts that are not air-tight.[…] Nonetheless, we were concerned that giving in too readily to suggestions of methodologists-narrativists would devalue what are, after all, massive achievements in solidifying the field of social history. […] In the debate between social history and the history of “discourses,” we thus took a compromise position or – if one prefers – an eclectic one, recognizing the advantages, but also disadvantages, of each research strategy rigorously treated.⁴³

The quintessence of this statement can be reduced to what is not so much yet another dimension as it is a postulate in the debate over the shape of modern Polish historiography: Beyond the dispute between traditionalism and modernity, there exists (and has always existed) an indisputable need (or lack thereof) for research imagination. Without it, the practice of our academic discipline becomes just “chronicle writing,” which – admittedly – is not always without valuable.

• 45 Ibid., 35

The approach I advocate does not mean the depreciation or invalidation of anything. On the contrary, sometimes it is precisely a wider background that allows for a better view of particular phenomena. In any case, the proposed approach does not prevent anyone from worshiping any heroes he wants. Certainly no one and nothing will prevent viewers from bowing their heads in tribute to heroes as they exit the future Museum of the Second World War, and as a result of their tour through the museum - judging from the project design – they will better understand this fragment of history than would be the case if the museum were only a memorial to national glory.⁴⁵

44Kula describes four conditions by which we can avoid the “weaknesses that may result from sinking up to our ears in national history.” They form the basis for the development of transnational history. I would summarize Kula’s thoughts, whose goal is to widen the field of both research and narrative, this way: 1. deepened perspective (i. e. “avoid the danger of the backwoods”); 2. comparative analysis; 3. the dominance of the investigation of phenomena over research of the individual facts of national history; and 4.trans-border analysis, or placing things into the perspective of the broader civilizational expanse. Kula illustrates each of these conditions for transnational history using central events in Polish history, which is a more malleable and eloquent way of justifying the need for a “transnational turn” than using hermetic references to methodology.

45Kula cites three examples to illustrate deepened perspective: Poland’s regained independence in 1918, the Soviet massacre of Polish officers (and others) in the Katyn Forest in 1940, and the collapse of communism throughout Europe in 1989. We have commonly described and commented on all three of these events to emphasize their Polish uniqueness against the backdrop of the fates of other European nations. But Kula, without neglecting their national significance, proposes revealing deeper layers of these same events:

The Katyń massacre is most often considered a Stalinist crime against the Poles. There is no doubt that it was a crime against Poles. And one can even add that Stalin was probably particularly allergic to the Poles. “In the same breath,” we must note, however, that Stalin treated more than one nation criminally. And that, even in that tragic forest where the NKWD executions took place, remains of people of various nationalities are buried. […]

• 46 Ibid.

The collapse of communism is presented as having been achieved by the Poles. Often, even the theme returns that the Berlin Wall fell to pieces in Gdańsk, etc. In fact, this is only part of the truth. The crisis was one that affected the entire “world communist system.” Communism was not only broken by, and perhaps not so much by, an explosion of human anger, as it was destroyed in a system-wide implosion. In Poland, in 1989, there was no longer any exploding mass of people. Other than in Romania and with the ill-fated coup in Moscow, the communists were hardly able to put up a serious defense. This does not mean that we have to diminish the importance of the attitudes and actions of people – but the issues were simply more complicated. The words “We battle for freedom with crosses and strikes” were an understandable expression of Polish dreams. But they cannot substitute for historical analysis, including transnational.⁴⁶

Another example that applies to the description of national history in the context of universal processes and phenomena:

• 47 Ibid.

Mass expulsions can, of course, be viewed as part of the national history of the peoples they have affected. However, they can also be viewed as a much broader phenomenon, known in many eras, and – unfortunately – typical of the twentieth century. The displacement of entire peoples in the Soviet Union can be explained within the framework of Stalin’s crimes and paranoia. The expulsion of Germans from the Western and Northern Territories can and should be linked to the war launched by Hitler.[…] But the fact remains that it is impossible to speak of the twentieth century without considering the phenomenon of mass expulsion. Consideration of this issue would, in turn, be incomplete without taking into account earlier great waves of migration – including those that were spontaneous - of the nineteenth century. Migration is, after all, a classic theme, in which case it is impossible to separate national history from transnational history. They are part of the fabric of the history of the emigrant country, part of the history of the immigrant country, and part of universal history.⁴⁷

46Drawing on the principle of transnational history, scholars are able to not only give expression to a wealth of specific experiences, but also highlight their importance against a properly expanded background. At the same time, one need not build a monument to national glory. Indirectly, the value of expanding the national perspective in the form of synthesis at the civilizational level was presented, several years ago, by Jan Kieniewicz in his book Wprowadzeniu do historii cywilizacji Wschodu i Zachodu (2003). One can, in this new way, analyze the most difficult phenomena, such as the Holocaust, revolutionary expansionism, war crimes, etc.

50Orłowski finds references to Poland’s peculiar development not only in traditional historiography, but also in constructivist historical-literary reflections. The traditional formulas Polonia semper fidelis and ante murale are joined by the icon of the “religion of patriotism” – that is, Poland as the “Christ of nations” – corroboration for which can be found in the words of Maria Janion:

• 66 For my anti-national heresy, see “Rozmowa z Marią Janion,” Gazeta Wyborcza, May 27-28, 2006.

A sort of messianic-patriotic heresy spreads, which treats the fatherland as an absolute. [Czesław] Miłosz, protesting against it, made himself vulnerable to those who found it quite natural that Poland was in the position of being a martyr at God’s will. Krasiński, after all, believed that nations are derived from the will of God - the Polish nation in particular was especially chosen.⁶⁶

2. Imagination and Interdisciplinarity

53Historical imagination is distinct from fantasy, and it is something different than intuition. It is distinct from fantasy in that – because it is rooted in the scenario of real events – it recognizes alternative histories and is accompanied by an awareness of multidisciplinarity. As opposed to intuition, imagination is not something that one has (or does not have), but it is something that one can learn. Thus, awareness of its presence is not a dead postulate. The starting point of “teaching (and learning) imagination” is to draw attention to narrative polyphony and to a diversified body of sources and methods of analyzing them. Mastering the skill of exploiting these potentials can also influence the style of the narrative, determining how truly communicative it is.

54We live in a fusion world, in which everything is mixed up with everything else. The building of boundaries and deepening of one’s own research instrumentarium is indeed desirable. But I would like to see interdisciplinarity in Polish historiography take its rightful place, that it not be pushed into the role of contrived postulate that has to be, at best, tolerated. Paradoxically, in this state of affairs, a great (potential) flywheel modernizing not only the study of history, but also humanistic studies more broadly, is – among other things – three major projects-book series, whose output has already amounted to 110 (!) volumes, with more just waiting to be printed. Spiriti movens and spiriti rector of these inter- and transdisciplinary projects are three scholars with recognized international achievements as researchers and authors: Marcin Kula, a historian with a sociology background, and his series “W krainie PRL” [“In the Land of the PRL”]; Hubert Orłowski in literature, but with a background in cultural history and historical semantics, and his series “Poznańska Biblioteka Niemiecka” (the German Library of Poznań); and Andrzej Mencwel in cultural studies, who has a literature background, but is also defined as a historian, and the series “Communicare.”

57A young sociologist and cultural studies expert from Łódź, Magdalena Saryusz-Wolska, accurately addressed, in a particular context, the issue of the unreflective use of interdisciplinarity:

• 80 The quote is taken from a paper “Wątpliwości wokół teorii pamięci kulturowej,” delivered at a confe (...)

In the literature (not only Polish) one sees a tendency to talk about interdisciplinarity in places where you can listen to one another, but where it is difficult to establish dialogue.⁸⁰

It is worth noting that, in Poland, both the practice of inter-and transdisciplinarity and debate on this subject have been going on for many years. Their predecessors were recruited for a long time not from the circle of historians, but from sociologists of culture, led by Antonina Kłoskowska and Jerzy Szacki, and from the editors and authors of Kultura i Społeczeństwo. They were accompanied by the Warsaw school of the history of ideas.

58POST-DIGRESSION. The three series mentioned above – W krainie PRL (with its subtitle: People. Issues. Problems. PRL Reality Read from Files, Documents, Records and Various Studies); the “Poznańska Biblioteka Niemiecka”; and “Communicare” – provide excellent foreground for discussion of this topic. This is what Paweł Machcewicz said during discussions at Warsaw’s Dom Spotkań z Historią [History Meeting House] about the series W krainie PRL:

• 81 “W krainie PRL,” Gazeta Wyborcza, June 6, 2008.

There is no other series in which so many books would appear and which, at the same time, would retain its identity. I think an alternative paradigm to view the PRL has been successfully created.⁸¹

59But in my opinion, “W krainie PRL” succeeded in creating something even greater: a multi-perspective narrative about history in general based on the PRL example. The series – whose editorial committee includes Włodzimierz Borodziej, Paweł Machcewicz, Andrzej Paczkowski, Tomasz Szarota and Wojciech Wrzesiński – was shaped by Marcin Kula who, from the beginning of his academic career, has been rooted in issues at the intersection of various disciplines and various national histories, through family (he is the son of a Polish historian associated with the French Annales School and of sociologist Nina Assorodobraj-Kula), and through his research interests (previously, his focus was the history of Brazil). But I locate the essence of innovation and the success of “W krainie PRL” elsewhere, in the first epigraph to the collection of essays and sketches with the emphatic title O co chodzi w historii? (2008), where Kula confessed his creed (and more) with the words of Albert Einstein: imagination is more important than knowledge!

• 95 Ibid., 30–31.

We historians are very often not able to recognize what, in our present day, is a trace of the past, its duration, its heritage. And even if we are able to recognize it, we cannot interpret how it works in contemporary culture. For that you need an anthropologist, a sociologist, a cultural studies expert, a literary scholar, so that we are able to learn more about the hot issues on the map of our times, so that we are able to move into that present. We must get out of our ruts in order, together, to pose the most important questions and search for answers, in a common effort, though with each of us in our respective competencies.⁹⁵

63This puts into question my belief in the need for interdisciplinarity. Whether my belief is justified or not is a question I will be able to answer more fully once I gain some distance from the completed “Polish-German Realms of Memory” [Polsko-niemieckie miejsca pamięci/Deutsch-polnische Erinnerungsorte] project at CBH PAN in Berlin, about which I have more to say below. For now, regarding Mencwel’s message on interdisciplinarity, I have one comment, which continues the thinking of Krzysztof Pomian: I fear the domination of culturalism. Mencwel rejects this allegation:

• 96 Mencwel, “Odpowiedź,” Przegląd filozoficzno-literacki 4 (21) ( 2008): 52.

I am on the side of integral humanities, but not on the side of the “integration of the humanities.” It is impossible to integrate the various fields of scholarship, if one begins from the point of divisions, because these divisions have taken on real form - indeed institutionally - and can no longer be transgressed, then all so-called connections will be little more than rigid prostheses, rejected at the first step, because one cannot walk on them. Instead, one must cultivate the humanities in particular areas, overstepping their boundaries with the idea that it has only one object in common […], man and his world. In other words, from this perspective, divisions among fields and academic specializations are derivative, secondary and ancillary to the fundamental obligation of all humanities, which is man in culture and culture in man.⁹⁶

The assortment of topics in the series “Communicare” seems, in any case, to confirm the dominance of culturalistic topics, which Pomian perceives generally as the leading tendency of Mencwel’s program:

The study of culture cannot be separated from the study of nature, especially the “second nature” that culture becomes for those who inherit it as something obvious, of which they are not even aware. […] Culture is - in this case, to a large extent – the word and writing, wherein their material dimension is treated as secondary, to the extent that it is not avoided altogether. I am under the impression that your [Mencwel’s] understanding of culture is not so much communicative […] as it is semiotic. Each of these concepts leads to another research questionnaire, and draws attention to other matters. For you [Mencwel], at the center of things are signs and meaning.

65At the end of the 1970s, the Warsaw historian Tadeusz Łepkowski wrote, almost prophetically:

• 99 Tadeusz Łepkowski, Przeszłość miniona i teraźniejsza (Warszawa: PIW, 1980), 16.

Generally, historians are aware of the fact that judgments they make are not perfect. They are limited by the horizon of a particular history, of a usually narrow experience gained over a very short period of time. I suppose that, among other reasons, this is precisely why history carried out as a team has a great future. It gathers together the experience and knowledge of many individuals. Obviously this is not the mere sum of parts, but something far greater and qualitatively different than history as individually thought out.⁹⁹

That “something far greater and qualitatively different” can be interdisciplinarity, practiced in research teams. One of the forerunners of interdisciplinarity is research carried out in the United States since the 1970s on the Holocaust, which in Poland today continues and is being successfully developed, for example, at Barbara Engelking’s Center for Holocaust Research [Centrum Badań nad Zagładą Żydów].

67However, in this case, too, there is a danger of escaping into one’s own discipline, or into excessive historicization, especially given that trans-disciplinary dialogue itself is so seldom practiced in Poland. Parallel categories often operate to describe the same or similar phenomena. One work put out by CBH PAN in Berlin, Modi memorandi. Leksykon kultury pamięci [A Lexicon of Cultural Memory], defines – from perspectives of different disciplines – the phenomenon of mnemonics widely conceived, and is designed to help us escape from the trap of being self-contained in one’s own discipline.

68One of the most successful individual examples of interdisciplinary research is the work of Hubert Orłowski. Personally, as a historian, I discovered – for my own use – Orłowski’s broad talents as an interdisciplinary scholar in the context of two fundamental syntheses of German historiography: Hans-Ulrich Wehler’s Deutsche Gesellschaftsgeschichte and Thomas Nipperdey’s Deutsche Geschichte 1800-1918.Orłowski – a literary scholar – wrote an analytical study that merged both works, like no other historian of Poland, into a broad discourse around the famous “Bielefeld school” and its Sozialgeschichte. Indirectly, he created an interesting critique of the positivist historiography dominant in Polish scholarship. Orłowski seems to say: Facts, history as events, can provide important material, but they cannot be the finale of a modern academic work. Only when the author places those facts and events into the broad context of social and cultural processes, using his own chosen methodological approach, can he/she create an original, innovative scholarly work. This does not negate event history; rather, it calls for its modernization in the spirit of Sozialgeschichte, of Koselleck’s historical semantics, and takes advantage of the innovative nature of Pierre Bourdieu’s theories of cultural/ social capital, his “field concept,” and his notion of symbolic violence.

69If I had to describe the intellectual reservoir from which Orłowski continues to draw new and inspirational ideas, I would mention several names: Pierre Bourdieu (sociologist), Reinhart Koselleck (historian), Max Weber (sociologist, political philosopher), Norbert Elias (cultural sociologist, historian), Walter Benjamin (writer, philosopher), Florian Znaniecki (cultural sociologist), Gottfried Benn (writer, philosopher), M. Rainer Lepsius (sociologist of politics), Wolf Lepenies (cultural sociologist), Klaus Zernack (historian and creator of Beziehungsgeschichte), Jürgen Kocka (historian in the Bielefeld school), Anthony Mączak (historian), and Michał Głowinski (literary scholar). One could add more names to this list, but I will venture to argue that, in terms of his “intellectual horizon,” the above list aptly defines the expanse of Orłowski’s preferences, indeed his academic fascinations; he is a literary scholar who – by reaching beyond the framework of his own discipline – promotes and implements the concept of interdisciplinarity.

70At the same time, Orłowski shapes his multi-disciplinary instrumentarium with the research operationalization of such categories as stereotype/ stereotyping, modernization, and Bildungsbürgertum, which have become central categories in describing cultural and social phenomena, in Germany and beyond. Using them (and surrounding them with new sub-categories and his own vocabulary-keywords), he has explored and described the phenomenon of German totalitarianism in Wilhelminian society, the reality of the Weimar Republic, and German-Polish relations.

71In this context, by way of a practical exemplification of the wealth of Orłowski’s research instrumentarium and its application in the analysis of concrete historical processes, I will mention five works that are each different and yet – each in its own way – interdisciplinary: His magnum opus, namely Polnische Wirtschaft. Nowoczesny niemiecki dyskurs o Polsce (1998); Die Lesbarkeit von Stereotypen. Der deutsche Polendiskurs im Blick historischer Stereotypenforschung und historischer Semantik (2004 and 2005); Dzieje kultury niemieckiej (2006, with Czesław Karolak and Wojciech Kunicki); and two smaller works, Warmia z oddali. Odpominania (2000) and Rzecz o dobrach symbolicznych. Gietrzwałd 1877 (2005). These five publications indicate not only the breadth of topics Orłowski takes on, but also the range of his literary forms and intellectual reflections: An analytical study of polnische Wirtschaft, that meta-stereotype of “long duration”; syntheses authored by him (Dzieje kultury niemieckiej) and edited by him (Polacy-Niemcy); a personal, autobiographical sketch integrated into a great narrative about the nineteenth and twentieth centuries; and a micro-historical study of the Marian apparition at Gietrzwałd in 1877 that has more to say about the “Warmian Lourdes” than most historical-theological studies.

Closing

72Minister Zdrojewski’s hesitation over a suitable term to describe the social function of history (“politics of the past” versus “politics of memory”) was justified. The semantic potential of both terms is variously and ambiguously defined. The young Polish sociologist Lech Nijakowski has examined these terms in depth, and he convincingly advocates for the use of the term “politics of memory” rather than “politics of the past.” He distinguishes three possible definitions of “politics of memory,” to draw the following conclusion:

• 102 Nijakowski, Polska polityka pamięci, 44.

The full definition would read as follows: politics of memory consists of all intentional actions of politicians and officials, having formal legitimacy, whose aim is the perpetuation, removal, or redefinition of specific content of social memory.¹⁰²

75With the wealth of topics contained in those publications in mind, all of which deserve more consideration than can be given here, I would like to mention a single – but essential – issue raised by Hahn: the cross-border “politics of memory.”

• 113 Hahn, “Pamięć zbiorowa,” 33.

Under the pretext [Hahn writes] that a uniting Europe needs a common history and, with that, a collective memory, what is actually involved here is the authoritarian interpretation of not just the history of Europe, but also the history of regions and the individual nations of Europe.¹¹³

77I deliberately finished this “opening sketch” with a “closing” rather than an “end” or a “conclusion.” Public debate in Poland about the “two dimensions” of history is by no means concluded. In fact, it is in a phase of increasingly intensive development, and it is to this fact, first of all, that the motif of “closing” refers. Second, it refers directly to the deeper meaning of the reflections I have presented in the above “sketch” and, perhaps even more importantly, to the arguments with which I began my volume Kraina tysiąca granic (2003). In subsequent sections of this book, I will make no further attempt to synthesize the subjects at hand. What I want to do is recollect my experiences from recent years (at some points I reach further back), putting them into as coherent a narrative as possible, in order to define my own place in the landscape of the Polish debate about history.