COVER STORY
Return of the Native
John Paul brings a message of unity and hope to his weary homeland
The scene in the high-ceilinged chamber of Warsaw's Belvedere Palace had just the right amount of symbolism to satisfy history-minded Poles. There was General Wojciech Jaruzelski, standing ramrod straight in an olive-drab uniform encrusted with ten rows of ribbons, the very personification of his country's preoccupation with military honor. Next to him stood Pope John Paul II, a golden pectoral cross hanging over his white robes, the representative of a church that is heroically linked in Polish minds with the tribulations of a nation that has, throughout the centuries, suffered invasions, defeats and even dismemberment.
From the start of the 2-hr. 40-min. meeting, the first ever between the Pope and Jaruzelski, the general seemed uncomfortable with his guest. As Jaruzelski clutched his prepared text, his hands trembled nervously. Beginning his speech, he immediately sought to justify his decision to impose military rule on his unwilling countrymen 18 months ago. "It is said that Poland suffers," Jaruzelski said. "But who put in the scales the enormity of human suffering, torment and tears that have been successfully avoided?" Speaking in the code that all Poles understand, Jaruzelski was delicately implying that only his intervention had forestalled a Soviet invasion of Poland. Then, in an attempt to show his good faith, he expressed his readiness to end martial law as soon as the situation in Poland "develops successfully." This, he said, could occur at a "not distant date," though he would not be more precise. Jaruzelski gave the Pope two gifts: a breastplate of hussar's armor, from the battle in which Polish troops helped end the Turkish siege of Vienna exactly 300 years ago, and a painting of the Tatra Mountains, in which John Paul enjoyed hiking when he was Archbishop of Cracow.
The Pope listened patiently, with his head bowed, as the general made his case. Then, in a surprisingly direct response, John Paul asked Jaruzelski in effect to turn back the clock and honor the agreements that had given rise to Solidarity, the first independent trade union in the Communist bloc. Said the Pope: "I do not stop hoping that the social reforms announced on many occasions, according to the principles so painstakingly worked out in the critical days of August 1980 and contained in the agreements, will gradually be put into effect." According to John Paul, renewal was "indispensable for maintaining the good name of Poland in the world." He hinted that liberalization might help Poland end its international isolation and improve relations "above all with the United States."
The second moment of high drama in the Pope's eight-day pilgrimage to his homeland was expected to occur this week, when he met with Lech Walesa, the ebullient, mustachioed electrician who has become an international symbol of the outlawed Solidarity movement. The Pope's conversations with the two main protagonists on the Polish scene would accent the central position that the church continues to occupy there. The visit also underscored the Pope's moral authority. Initially, the government had refused to allow Walesa to see him. It relented only after John Paul insisted upon the session.
