Thank you very much, Mr. Delahunt. On Saturday, I received a call from the leader of Cleveland's Polish community, John Borkowski, who informed me of the tragedy that befell the nation of Poland.…
Thank you very much, Mr. Delahunt.
On Saturday, I received a call from the leader of Cleveland's Polish community, John Borkowski, who informed me of the tragedy that befell the nation of Poland.
Cleveland has a very large Polish American community, which is very proud of its heritage and very involved in promoting the social and cultural aspects of the Polish ethnic heritage. The loss of the humblest citizen on that plane was a great tragedy for Poland. The total loss is a tragedy of monumental proportions.
I am glad to see the United States Congress recognizing the tragedy that has befallen the Polish people and also joining in in mourning the loss of President Kaczynski, the First Lady, and 94 others.
I would like to insert in the Record a column by Roger Cohen that I think puts an appropriate frame on this important discussion today in which we recognize the grief of the Polish people and show solidarity with them.
Finally, I would just like to say, niech zyje Polska--long live Poland.
Madam Speaker, I rise to express my strong support of and condolences for the people of Poland as they mourn the loss of their President, Lech Kaczynski, the First Lady, and 94 others after a tragic plane crash this past Saturday.
In addition to President Kaczynski, his wife, and key public officials, prominent figures in Polish history perished in the plane crash as well--former labor leaders, intellectuals, and historians-- figures that shaped Polish history, revolutionized Polish political discourse, and preserved Polish heritage.
In cruel irony, they were traveling to Russia to commemorate the 1940 Katyn massacre when 20,000 Polish prisoners--including Army officers and the leading Polish intellectuals of the time--were brutally murdered by Soviet Forces. Russian President Vladimir Putin was to join the Polish delegation in their commemoration of the massacre, the first time a high-ranking Russian official has done so since the massacre occurred 70 years ago.
Roger Cohen, writing yesterday in the New York Times, remarked, ``Poland should shame every nation that believes peace and reconciliation are impossible, every state that believes that sacrifice of new generations is needed to avenge the grievances of history . . . It is Poland that is now at peace with its neighbors and stable. It is Poland that has joined Germany in the European Union. So do not tell me that cruel history cannot be overcome.''
Let us use this unimaginable tragedy to follow Poland's example to promote peace, reconciliation, and diplomacy in the world.
[From the New York Times, Apr. 13, 2010]
The Glory of Poland
(By Roger Cohen)
New York.--My first thought, hearing of the Polish tragedy,
was that history's gyre can be of an unbearable cruelty,
decapitating Poland's elite twice in the same cursed place,
Katyn.
My second was to call my old friend Adam Michnik in Warsaw.
Michnik, an intellectual imprisoned six times by the former
puppet-Soviet Communist rulers, once told me:
``Anyone who has suffered that humiliation, at some level,
wants revenge. I know all the lies. I saw people being
killed. But I also know that revanchism is never ending. And
my obsession has been that we should have a revolution that
does not resemble the French or Russian, but rather the
American, in the sense that it be for something, not against
something. A revolution for a constitution, not a paradise.
An anti-utopian revolution. Because utopias lead to the
guillotine and the gulag.''
Michnik's obsession has yielded fruit. President Lech
Kaczynski is dead. Slawomir Skrzypek, the president of the
National Bank, is dead. An explosion in the fog of the forest
took them and 94 others on the way to Katyn. But Poland's
democracy has scarcely skipped a beat. The leader of the
lower house of Parliament has become acting president pending
an election. The first deputy president of the National Bank
has assumed the duties of the late president. Poland, oft
dismembered, even wiped from the map, is calm and at peace.
``Katyn is the place of death of the Polish
intelligentsia,'' Michnik, now the soul of Poland's
successful Gazeta Wyborcza newspaper, said when I reached him
by phone. ``This is a terrible national tragedy. But in my
sadness I am optimistic because Putin's strong and wise
declaration has opened a new phase in Polish-Russian
relations, and because we Poles are showing we can be
responsible and stable.''
Michnik was referring to Prime Minister Vladimir Putin's
words after he decided last week to join, for the first time,
Polish officials commemorating the anniversary of the murder
at Katyn of thousands of Polish officers by the Soviet Union
at the start of World War II. Putin, while defending the
Russian people, denounced the ``cynical lies'' that had
hidden the truth of Katyn, said ``there is no justification
for these crimes'' of a ``totalitarian regime'' and declared,
``We should meet each other halfway, realizing that it is
impossible to live only in the past.''
The declaration, dismissed by the paleolithic Russian
Communist Party, mattered
less than Putin's presence, head bowed in that forest of
shame. Watching him beside Poland's prime minister, Donald
Tusk, I thought of Francois Mitterrand and Helmut Kohl hand-
in-hand at Verdun in 1984: of such solemn moments of
reconciliation has the miracle of a Europe whole and free
been built. Now that Europe extends eastward toward the
Urals.
I thought even of Willy Brandt on his knees in the Warsaw
Ghetto in 1970, a turning point on the road to a German-
Polish reconciliation more miraculous in its way even than
the dawning of the post-war German-French alliance. And
now perhaps comes the most wondrous rapprochement, the
Polish-Russian.
It is too early to say where Warsaw-Moscow relations are
headed but not too early to say that 96 lost souls would be
dishonored if Polish and Russian leaders do not make of this
tragedy a solemn bond. As Tusk told Putin, ``A word of truth
can mobilize two peoples looking for the road to
reconciliation. Are we capable of transforming a lie into
reconciliation? We must believe we can.''
Poland should shame every nation that believes peace and
reconciliation are impossible, every state that believes the
sacrifice of new generations is needed to avenge the
grievances of history. The thing about competitive
victimhood, a favorite Middle Eastern pastime, is that it
condemns the children of today to join the long list of the
dead.
For scarcely any nation has suffered since 1939 as Poland,
carved up by the Hitler-Stalin nonaggression pact,
transformed by the Nazis into the epicenter of their program
to annihilate European Jewry, land of Auschwitz and Majdanek,
killing field for millions of Christian Poles and millions of
Polish Jews, brave home to the Warsaw Uprising, Soviet pawn,
lonely Solidarity-led leader of post-Yalta Europe's fight for
freedom, a place where, as one of its great poets, Wislawa
Szymborska, wrote, ``History counts its skeletons in round
numbers''--20,000 of them at Katyn.
It is this Poland that is now at peace with its neighbors
and stable. It is this Poland that has joined Germany in the
European Union. It is this Poland that has just seen the very
symbols of its tumultuous history (including the Gdansk dock
worker Anna Walentynowicz and former president-in-exile
Ryszard Kaczorowski) go down in a Soviet-made jet and
responded with dignity, according to the rule of law.
So do not tell me that cruel history cannot be overcome. Do
not tell me that Israelis and Palestinians can never make
peace. Do not tell me that the people in the streets of
Bangkok and Bishkek and Tehran dream in vain of freedom and
democracy. Do not tell me that lies can stand forever.
Ask the Poles. They know.