Under martial law (Dec 1981 – July 83) writing truthfully and critically was risky, but Polish writers still managed to document a life tightly restricted and aggressively threatened by the state.

Presented by Amy Drozdowska

December 13th 1981 marked the start of the darkest period in Polish post-war history. On that day, a group of generals led by Wojciech Jaruzelski imposed Martial Law in the People’s Republic of Poland. Tanks and armed police squads appeared in the streets. The hopes of Solidarity were under serious threat.

Though officially lifted a year later, it asserted itself well into 1986. Martial law infused the daily lives of Polish citizens with uncertainty, apprehension, and sometimes violence.

Writing that commented truthfully and critically on what was happening in Poland was risky under martial law. The literature generated during this time is a literature of protest.

Underground newspapers and journals became sought after. Defiant writers put their energies into making them, readers typed out copies for friends. Writers needed to speak before being silenced, to distribute the facts of what was happening before being arrested, or interned.

Despite the risk, Polish writers managed to create stories, compose poems, and keep diaries. They documented a life tightly restricted and aggressively threatened by the state.

Writer and journalist Marek Nowakowski was an editor for “Zapis” - meaning “Record” - the underground literary journal started in the late ‘70s. In the ‘80s, because he signed several protest letters to Poland’s authorities, Nowakowski’s works were periodically banned from publication.

Yet he still managed to write extensively in Poland during 1982, creating anecdotal vignettes of daily life under martial law. These were later collected in his underground book “Report from a State of War.” Nowakowski, before this time a master of stories portraying criminal underworlds, found himself under martial law describing a world where all citizens were suspected criminals.

Nowakowski’s short story, “The Confidential Phone Call” describes how a group of young men – bored and angry - turned this climate of suspicion and fear against two collaborators in their housing complex – the building superintendent and a local writer. [It was first printed in Solidarity’s underground publication, “War Weekly.”] We now present to you an adaptation of “The Confidential Phone Call.” The story starts as the narrator spots one of his cohorts in the yard of their complex; he’s apparently found out something that just might cheer up his frustrated friends:


As in the story, Solidarity leaders were an obvious target of police suspicion, and among the first to be arrested under martial law.

Internment was a common theme of Polish literature from this time. Thousands of Poles who in some way broke the law, who openly protested, or wrote and published their dissent were detained in camps – often for months. There they created means of expression through homemade stamps made from smuggled paper, ripped up linoleum flooring, and inks from fruit and vegetable juices. They found ways to remember, and later to write.

Wiktor Woroszylski was a poet, journalist, essayist and translator. Like Nowakowski, he served as an editor for “Zapis”, as well as other publications. As part of the opposition to martial law, Woroszylski was held in such a camp. His “Diary of Internment,” evokes his experiences there. The following poem comes from the “Diary”:

Another poem from this collection, called “Just till spring,” evokes a common sentiment among defiant Poles: “Zima Wasza, Wiosna Nasza” – “Your Winter, Our Spring.” The implication was that martial law might prevail over the winter months, but Poles were determined to take back their freedom. Woroszylski’s poem expresses the frustration and melancholy surrounding this dream:

Like those poems by Woroszylski, stories by writer Janusz Anderman express the experience of internment under Poland’s martial law. Anderman was imprisoned from December of 1981 until July of 1982. His story “Czarnoleka” was inspired by his time there. In it, an imprisoned writer profiles his fellow inmates. In the following excerpt, the writer looks out the window of his cell and watches the variety of people interned by the Polish military regime. Day after day, they pace around the compound of the camp:

And that’s all for this edition of Bookworm. Our readers this week were Sol Flapan, Peter Gentle, Sławek Liszewski, Dave McGuire, Bartek Panek, Sławek Szefs and Bogdan Żaryn.

The translations came thanks to Bogusław Rostworowski.

Thanks to the editors of Northwestern University’s journal the “TriQuarterly.” These stories and poems were drawn from Volume One of the 1983 Spring/Summer edition, “A Window on Poland.”