Neither president nor Senate had extensive powers, most of which were in the hands of the Sejm. But this was crippled by the impossibility of achieving stable majorities or durable coalitions. The principal currents of Polish politics had been defined from the start not by ideology but by group interest: conservative-minded peasants hungry for land had nothing in commonwith conservativeminded landowners, and left-wing industrial workers who wanted low food prices would not combine with left-wing peasants who wanted the reverse. Proportional representation favoured minority parties and single-interest groups, while the demographics of Poland gave rise to ethnically based parties with specific agendas.
The first elections held under the new constitution, in November 1922, saw a turnout of 68 per cent and returned no fewer than thirty-one parties to the Sejm. Not one had more than 20 per cent of the seats, and most of the major parties had no more than about 10. They coalesced into clubs, but these often fell apart in the very process of building coalitions. The large number of single-interest parties meant that coalitions or even clubs were likely to fracture over a particular piece of legislation. The chamber contained thirtyfive members representing Jewish parties, twenty-five representing Ukrainian interests, seventeen the German and eleven the Belorussian minority. Their voting patterns were erratic, but their number could exert a disproportionate effect.
The sense of instability was only enhanced when the first President of the Republic, Gabriel Narutowicz, was assassinated by a lunatic on 16 December 1922, two days after his inauguration. Four days later the Sejm and Senate voted in his successor, Stanisław Wojciechowski, while General Władysław Sikorski, who had been appointed Prime Minister, stabilised the situation. But instability continued to dog the Sejm, with budgets failing to be passed and governments coming unstuck over minor issues—no fewer than fourteen cabinets fell in the space of seven years.
The self-perpetuating dissension which enveloped parliamentary politics provoked disgust, and, with time, a chorus calling for ‘strong government’. Only one man in Poland enjoyed the sort of public esteem and personal authority needed to provide this: Józef Piłsudski. In the early 1920s Piłsudski withdrew into sullen retirement on his small estate of Sulejówek, whence he exerted a muted but pervasive influence through his writings, his Sibylline pronouncements on various matters, and his very absence from public life. He had a strong following in the armed forces and was respected by people on the right and the left of the political spectrum, by the most chauvinist Poles and by the Jewish minority.
On 10 May 1926 Wincenty Witos formed the latest in a succession of cabinets too weak to rule effectively. Two days later Piłsudski marched on Warsaw at the head of a few battalions of troops, and demanded its resignation. Witos was ready to comply, but President Wojciechowski urged him to stand firm and called out the army. Some units dragged their feet, others backed Piłsudski, as did the entire left, with the result that railwaymen refused to move regiments loyal to the government. After three days’ street fighting Wojciechowski and Witos resigned.
The Sejm offered the presidency to Piłsudski, but he declined and put forward the name of an eminent scientist and one-time member of the PPS, Ignacy Mościcki, who was duly elected. Changes introduced into parliamentary procedure had the effect of marginalising the Sejm and strengthening the role of the president, who henceforth appointed the government. Piłsudski himself briefly served as prime minister, and then handed over to Kazimierz Bartel, a respected politician of the People’s Party.
Piłsudski had no policy beyond ‘cleaning up the mess’ of parliamentary bickering, and took little interest in the day-to-day affairs of government. He was more interested in the army, which he saw as the key to Poland’s survival and a repository of its chivalric values, and the only formal title he accepted was that of Marshal. He hovered on the sidelines, part-dictator, part-monarch, his role ill defined, his influence paramount. By these means he managed to conserve his popularity: he was at once accessible and aloof, and while he was the linchpin on which the whole regime was hung, he was not too closely associated with any programme or policy to forfeit his essentially non-party appeal. If his manner, which grew increasingly surly, and his methods, which became more peremptory, were deplored by many, his purpose could be faulted by few. He was a national hero embalmed in the legend of his life of struggle for the freedom of Poland, embodying rebellion as well as authority.