Poland полностью

Retrospectively, it appears that the overriding problem faced by Polish society in its new role as a sovereign nation was one of identity. There might be a Sapieha foreign minister, a Zamoyski presidential candidate, a Potocki ambassador and members of szlachta families in every officers’mess, but it was not their values that triumphed in the new Poland. Nor did those of the nineteenth-century intelligentsia. Piłsudski and Dmowski had already been superseded by the movements they had created. The higher echelons of government and of the administration were largely filled by new men of disparate origins who had been tempered in the furnace of conspiracy, jail, and struggle for independence. They were united by their common experiences and service in the army, which played a major role in forging a new national consciousness. It was not just Ukrainians and Jews who felt out of place. Many members of the landed classes, the old intelligentsia, and particularly artists, became alienated. In the grotesque poem Herrings in Tomato Sauce, written in 1936, Konstanty Ildefons Galczyński (1905-53) brings back to life Władysław the Short, the king who had struggled to reunite the fragmented country in the thirteenth century: ‘Well, you wanted your Poland, now you’ve got it!’ he is told. The sentiment expressed spoke for many.

The 1920s and 1930s witnessed an explosion of literary and artistic talent of a very high order. Liberated from the need to serve the national cause, writers and artists felt free to express themselves in ways that on the whole found little recognition in the reigning zeitgeist of the Sanacja regime. And while they enjoyed a following in the vibrant artistic milieus of Warsaw and other major cities, many found it difficult to associate themselves with the realities of the resurrected Poland. Musicians too found the promised land disappointingly philistine.

The long-yearned-for independence had been under threat ever since it was achieved in 1918. The Versailles settlement had created a situation in Central Europe which was uncomfortable for all parties. Germany could not help feeling a grudge against Poland, and the Poles could not help feeling one against every one of their neighbours, all of whom felt the same way towards the Poles. The powers which had helped restore Poland to the map were reluctant to commit themselves to her survival, and while all formally guaranteed the 1919 Franco-German border, only France did the same with respect to Germany’s eastern border with Poland. Since the Western powers demonstrated at the Locarno Conference in 1925 that they would do anything to avoid involvement in another war, Central European states had to fend for themselves. Another war seemed likely, and all but the most sanguine or ill-informed realised that Poland did not stand a chance on her own.

With all the wisdom of hindsight, it is hard to suggest a foreign policy that might have saved Poland. Between 1932 and 1939 foreign policy was conducted by Colonel Józef Beck, who saw clearly that in the diplomatic game Poland had nothing to offer a potential ally. In 1932 he signed a non-aggression pact with the Soviet Union. This elicited an aggressive response from Germany, which demanded the Free City of Danzig. When Hitler came to power in 1933 Piłsudski considered a Franco-Polish pre-emptive strike on Germany. But Hitler stepped in with conciliatory offers and in January 1934 Poland and Germany signed a ten-year non-aggression pact. Hitler was keen to meet Piłsudski and discuss plans for a German drive into the Baltic countries in conjunction with a Polish drive to the Black Sea. But this was not a realistic option for Poland.

After the Anschluss with Austria in the spring of 1938 it became obvious that the West would be of no practical assistance to Poland. Beck could not turn to the Soviet Union for a military alliance, since no Pole who knew his history could consider allowing Russian troops onto Polish soil, even if they came as allies. The only hope was to placate Germany in the hope of staving off aggression and of eliciting a convincing promise of military support from Britain and France, who were naturally anxious to keep Poland out of Germany’s orbit.

In October 1938, after the German seizure of the Sudetenland, the Poles reoccupied the Zaolzie (the part of Cieszyn which the Czechs had annexed in 1918). It was intended partly as a show of force and partly as a strategic measure to strengthen Poland’s southern flank against German attack—a consideration which also prompted a Polish ultimatum to Lithuania to open diplomatic relations and declare her intentions. These moves had little practical effect beyond creating the impression that Poland was a bully little better than Germany or Italy.