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The Politicization
of Social Divisions
in Post-War Poland
Piotr Borowiec
The Politicization of Social Divisions in Post-War
Poland
Piotr Borowiec
The Politicization
of Social Divisions
in Post-War Poland
Piotr Borowiec
Institute of Political Science
and International Relations
Jagiellonian University
Kraków, Poland
ISBN 978-3-031-26529-7 ISBN 978-3-031-26530-3 (eBook)

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-26530-3
© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer
Nature Switzerland AG 2023
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Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights
of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on
microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and
retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology
now known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc.
in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such
names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for
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To my daughter Alicja
Acknowledgements
Many people contributed to my writing of this book, including my

colleagues from the Institute of Political Science and International Rela-
tions at the Jagiellonian University in Kraków. I would like to thank all of
them. In particular, I would like to extend my gratitude to Piotr Obacz,
Ph.D., for the inspiration provided by his monograph entitled Podział
“Polska solidarna—Polska liberalna” w świetle wybranych koncepcji plural-
izmu politycznego. (2018). It helped me consider many issues related
to divisions. Even if I provide different answers to some of the ques-
tions he asked, they would not have been formulated had it not been
for his paper. I would also like to thank the students of the Political
Studies Faculty of the Jagiellonian University, to whom I presented an
approach to social divisions and the theory of practices of repartition
during political sociology lectures. I am profoundly thankful to them for
their critique, patience and inquisitiveness.
Kraków, Poland Piotr Borowiec

December 2022
vii
Contents
1 Introduction 1
2 The First Structural Experiment: Communist-Era
Homogenisation 11
3 Consequences of the Experiment: The Division
Between Society and the nomenklatura 57
4 The Second Experiment: The Differentiation
of the Social Structure 105
5 Consequences of the Second Experiment: The
“Winners”–“Losers” Division 151
6 The Formation of Social Divisions and the Theory
of Practices of Repartition 197
7 Conclusion 245
Index 253
ix
Abbreviations
CBOS Centrum Badania Opinii Społecznej —Centre for Public Opinion

Research
GUS Główny Urzad˛ Statystyczny—Central Statistical Office
KPN Konfederacja Polski Niepodległej —The Confederation of Independent
Poland
PGR Państwowe Gospodarstwo Rolne—State Agricultural Farm
PKWN Polski Komitet Wyzwolenia Narodowego—Polish Committee of
National Liberation
PPR Polska Partia Robotnicza—Polish Workers’ Party
PPS Polska Partia Socjalistyczna—Polish Socialist Party
PRL Polska Rzeczpospolita Ludowa—Polish People’s Republic
PZPR Polska Zjednoczona Partia Robotnicza—Polish United Workers’ Party
RP Rzeczpospolita Polska—The Republic of Poland
SLD Sojusz Lewicy Demokratycznej —The Democratic Left Alliance
UB Urzad˛ Bezpieczeństwa—Security Office
UE Unia Europejska—European Union
ZMP Zwiazek
˛ Młodzieży Polskiej —Union of Polish Youth
xi
CHAPTER 1
Introduction
Two observations formed the basis of my interest in the formation and

politicization of social divisions in Poland. Both are seemingly different
and perhaps exceptionally trivial but, in practice, they are related to each
other, inspire me and bring about scientific research.
The first consisted in me realising my growing irritation caused by
another passionate statement of a certain public opinion leader in the
media, claiming that Polish society was deeply “divided in half” and that
this caused negative consequences suffered, in particular, by the author
of these words and which were unbearable for him. He considered those
divisions and splits to be a burden weighing him down and leading to
his permanent discomfort of living. His additional words did not lead
to anything sensible. Often, he was not even able to define the sides of
this division, its genesis or the causes behind the formation of related
distances, and yet he noticed it and made it socially significant, seem-
ingly considering himself a messenger of some sort. In the later part of
his argumentation, he warned against further divisions and condemned
those causing divisions and fuelling the “Polish-Polish war”. As expected,
he only counted politicians who did not share his worldview among the
dividers. It was them who he considered the source of those divisions. He
had no second thoughts about expressing his negative opinion of them.
Elated, he was convinced that he was the truth-bearer, failing to notice
that suddenly he joined the dividers (in reference to the notion above).
© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature 1

Switzerland AG 2023
P. Borowiec, The Politicization of Social Divisions in Post-War Poland,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-26530-3_1
2 P. BOROWIEC
He divided politicians into those who reportedly cause divisions due to

employing dividing as a strategy and those who reportedly abstain from
doing it (at least in his opinion). In other words, into those worthy and
unworthy of trust, not equal to himself. Some he considered superior,
others inferior. The whole of his statement showed disdain for politics, a
wish for the need for unity and universal harmony, but built solely based
on his own vision of order and proper living—which is an expectation
that shocks with its totality and is partially a legacy of communism and its
doctrine of “moral and political unity” (Świda-Ziemba, 1998, p. 291).
The second observation is related to a statement by Adam Michnik—
a person symbolic of the Polish fight for freedom—from early 2015. It
was a statement anchored in politics and practically opened that [politi-
cally important] year when presidential and parliamentary elections were
held. Michnik made a division “into an authoritarian Poland wanting
to build a police state, and a democratic Poland” (Adam, 2015). The
above statement is clearly significant because both Michnik and the
circles centred around him were reluctant to employ such polarisations.
It cannot be interpreted only as a mechanical attempt at supporting
one of the parties to a political dispute with his own authority and,
therefore, as an instrumental and demagogic strategy. It would consti-
tute a simplification unfair to the source of this concept, very likely
untrue. Therefore, there must be something more in those dichoto-
mous, discursive juxtapositions—hereinafter referred to as practices of
repartition.
These observations and attempts at answering the question of what
the actual reasons for the appearance of social divisions and application of
repartitions—those that lie deeper than the ones suggested by common
sense, political discourse conditions and available scientific knowledge on
divisions, often referred to as the “classic knowledge on the matter”—
are constituted as the basis for the decision to begin research on the
phenomena mentioned above.
The main substantive assumption of this paper is a reflection on the
role of the ideas of justice and equality in Polish social order. The
introduction of the first version of these ideals in 1945, following the
communist distribution ideology, resulted in a permanent revolution of
the social structure and the destruction of existing divisions, differences
and inequalities. The consequences of those processes are still being
felt today. It is necessary to remember that the egalitarian perspec-
tive situates inequalities mainly in the structure, within perspectives of
1 INTRODUCTION 3
superiority−inferiority (Domański, 2002, p. 9). The introduction of their

second version, based on meritocracy and efficiency, led to the forma-
tion of new inequalities, once again transforming the social structure
and making it more difficult to read. Therefore, in my paper, I focus
on the economic, ethnic and religious categories of social structuralisa-
tion, various approaches to the structure and also subjective awareness
aspects of the lives of individuals (i.e., the meanings assigned to inequal-
ities). It is in these phenomena that is see the individual, psychological
sources of division. I believe that their premises lie mainly in endoge-
nous factors, inequalities and the attitudes of individuals towards them.
I make central the categories that constitute inequalities and eventually
lead to divisions. It is them that create the distances between individ-
uals; therefore, they are “signposts”, determinants for describing the
structure of and changes in inequalities, as well as for the formation of
divisions. The analysis assumes recognising social order as a “system”
of active individuals socially, economically and politically anchored and
being in a state of constant integration and transformation. Additionally,
it may be recognised as an order that is a collection of rules and insti-
tutions that determine the framework of social existence (Marody, 1991,
p. 7) and that are all structured and co-dependent—and, therefore, also
the relations between them. Acting in this manner allows showing the
ties between transforming structures that result from their effect and,
therefore, the formation of divisions and politicization thereof.
In the analysis presented, social divisions and practices of repartition
constitute the main object of interest and bind all of the considera-
tions undertaken. Repartitions are important political matters—not only
in democracy—that form a basis for rooting and transforming politics.
That is why I attempt to present their model and capture their dynamics.
Repartitions are commonly considered mobilisation strategies that help
provide political support, while in reality, they are forms of questioning
the stability of the order by calling for a rejection of its dominant hier-
archies. They are also instrumental tools that groups use to anchor
themselves in politics and participate in them, or methods intended to
ensure political survival. They constitute a reflection of many conditions
present within a given society. This is why I consider them forms of diag-
nosis of social statuses, the depth of inequalities and the changes expected.
The foundation of my consideration is the functionalist assumption that
divisions and practices of repartition are intrasystemic consequences that
usually reflect the condition of structures, the influence of dominating
4 P. BOROWIEC
ideologies and the accepted vision of social justice. To put it as simply as

possible, practices of repartition are attempts at revealing unjust relations
and privileges and political calls for abolishing them. In this manner, my
paper reaches to the very basis of structures (i.e., to the formation of social
relations and appearance of distances and connects them to political activ-
ities and practices of repartition employed). I claim that the experiences
of unjust differences created the divisions in Poland and, therefore, repar-
titioning practices (which includes politics). In the repartitioning theory
proposed, the objective is to explain one of the forms of politicization
of social divisions. The majority of inequalities and divisions arising are
subject to politicization that varies in form and intensity. However, not
all of them are politicized by means of repartitions.
In this paper, I demonstrate that the divisions are conditioned upon the
structure condition, inequalities, registers of wrongs and factors present
at an individual level, as well as subtle meanings that individuals assign
to them. At the same time, the analysis showed that repartitions are
employed in two cases: when there are significant and noticeable inequali-
ties between groups and when differences disappear, and homogenisation
progresses. A “homogeneous” society increases the likelihood of the
application of repartitions, usually through the “underlining” of hidden
partitions aimed at destroying that homogeneity. This applies to the
democratic order in particular. Political actors reach for such measures
when the social structure is characterised by profound differences, when
it is nearly homogeneous and, also, when a specific lifestyle model is
imposed on minorities. The existence of a homogeneous society does not
exclude taking advantage of these practices. On the contrary, it basically
“invites” them to be included in the discourse. That is why repartitions
are also “instruments” used for controlling social space and “healing”
relations. They lead to a controlled change while, at the same time, not
being one, and that is one of the major findings of this paper.
In the analysis, I introduce notions that constitute theoretical assump-
tions for the subject matter discussed, make it more understandable and
enable preparing the whole concept of divisions and practices. In this
paper, society is a social space that keeps becoming, that is, a network
of social relations. I consider the notions of society—relations identical,
and they appear interchangeably in this paper (Domański, 2004, p. 11;
Sztompka, 1989; Wasilewski, 2006, p. 47). I differentiate between the
occurrence of objective inequalities and the subjective reception of objec-
tive condition of structures, as well as between the historically formed
1 INTRODUCTION 5
social divisions and the practices of repartition recreating them. These

practices are discursive creations that depend on the condition of the
surroundings. They hold control and sustain or undermine existing privi-
leges, which makes them types of well-developed change implementation
projects.
In this paper, I omit the issue of the “translation” of divisions into the
party system and their impact on competition between parties—this is
due to the fact that, at present, there is still no evidence that the divisions
(also as presented in this paper) determine the form of the party system. It
turns out that “the political entrepreneurs organise only some of the social
divisions into political ‘sides’ and parties, expressed in programs in activi-
ties, while others remain dormant” (Grabowska, 2004, p. 257). Another
reason is that it is a separate research question that goes beyond the issues
presented in this paper. I also do not involve myself in seeking the lines
of political division and do not answer the question of how individual
divisions impacted the role, successes or failures of individual parties. I
am searching for facts in the discourse that explain the mechanisms of
the formation of divisions and creation of practices. I am also looking
for confirmation of theoretical conclusions and, therefore, anchoring my
deliberations in post-1945 Polish politics. This work provides an empirical
basis for the repartition theory. However, as it lacks complete verifica-
tion, I am presenting it in the form of a dynamic interpretation scheme
(Karwat, 2011, pp. 78–79).
The research question of this paper required returning to the processes
of Communist-era homogenisation, when totalitarian communist author-
ities generated the “us”–“them” division, striving to build an “equal”
society. I take these processes into account and return to them because
this paper describes the continuity of change in Poland, taking place
despite attempts at applying discontinuous development that were made
during different periods. I remind them as the struggle against social divi-
sions and the formation of new ones had even started in Poland before
the end of World War II. They have been continued for decades up to
the present day. One of the features of changes experienced by society
was the conviction that striving to abolish inequalities would lead to the
formation of relations based on justice. This conviction seems persistent,
but its strength was changing over time.
Thanks to returning to the post-war period, the compilation of sources
employed was extensive. All of them, including compilations of political
and historical facts and the inductive method of theory building, formed
6 P. BOROWIEC
the source and methodological base for the research. It consists of scien-
tific literature regarding the social structure and transformation of Polish
society during the years 1945–2022. This literature is very abundant,
although some of it has ideological influences that refer to multiple theo-
retical and empirical approaches, including Marxism. The literature on
the subject, irrespective of its ideological influences, allows the forma-
tion of the fundamental inequalities and division to be recreated—both
after World War II and in later decades. It allows noticing “revolutionary
interventions” in the structure, aiming at liquidating one division and
creating others. This does not mean, however, that only the political
interventions generated social distances. I took advantage of the knowl-
edge of structuralisation and social classes—as well as of both Marx’s and
Weber’s approach—according to the historical period in which they were
employed to analyse the social structure. When discussing social structure,
I employ notions from a given historical period as they constitute a part
of scientific temporal awareness. I recognise their impact on politics and
the repartitions employed.
This paper is based on the empirical and theoretical achievements of
scholars dealing with the structure and condition of Polish society. It
is also based on works of authors from outside of Poland that touch
upon socio-political divisions, including the reflections of Seymour M.
Lipset and Stein Rokkan (1967), reflections of Stein Rokkan (1970),
concepts of Scott C. Flanagan (1980), Ronald Inglehart (1984), Stefano
Bartolini and Peter Mair (1990), Amory Gethin et al. (2021) and those
of Oddbjørn Knutsen and Elinor Scarbrough (1995). Some special inspi-
ration was provided by the works of Herbert Kitschelt (1989, 1992)
and the theoretical solutions of Ryszard Herbut (1997, 1999), Radosław
Markowski (2000), Radosław Markowski and Ben Stanley (2016),
Mirosława Grabowska (2004, 2021), Agnieszka Figiel (2009), Piotr
Obacz (2018, 2021), Tomasz Zarycki (2000, 2007) and other scholars
(Bejma, 2013; Borowiec, 2021; Cześnik & Kotnarowski, 2011; Górka,
2009; Klepka, 2013; Kwiatkowska, 2010; Letki, 2013; Łukowski &
Sadowski, 2013). All the works listed constituted the basis for research,
but I do not refer to them further on.
The analysis was built around the chronological line of events and a
comparison of temporally distant events. It focuses on a process approach
to recognising events taking place and striving for generalisation. What
the whole of this paper and its considerations have in common is the two
great social experiments—the first one starting in the 1940s, the second
1 INTRODUCTION 7
one in the 1990s. In both cases, the intention was to “change the social
life in line with a more or less specified vision of a society” (Blok, 1994,
p. 17), with greater or lesser social acceptance—both instrumentally and
politically—to destroy the social division or recreate them in line with
ideological templates and selected concepts of justice.
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CHAPTER 2
The First Structural Experiment:

Communist-Era Homogenisation
Ideological and Political Reasons

for Interfering with the Structure,
and the Patterns of That Interference
Had there been a necessity to describe the structure of the Polish society
directly after the end of World War II using a single word, the most
fitting one would have been “broken”. Its precise image was unobtain-
able at that time given the lack of complete knowledge of the extent of
wartime losses and destruction. Besides, it was simply not necessary then
as other objectives—the recreation of social life, rebuilding of the country
and overcoming poverty and supply shortages—were far more important
(Jarosz, 2002). However, if anyone had accepted such a task, they would
have failed due to a lack of certain data. The five years of war brought
the society [at that time] a previously unknown degree of suffering and
population losses, as well as a biological (Roszkowski, 2010) and financial
disaster. War was a traumatic experience, and the social fabric was in a
critical biological condition (Kersten, 2018). For every thousand Polish
citizens as of 1939, 220 people died—murdered by Soviet and German
occupiers or due to other causes.
What was the society that had been destroyed in a structure like, then?
Clearly, it was rife with social divisions and enclosed within numerous
hierarchies and inequalities (Zagórski, 1978, pp. 37–54). It experienced
noticeable distances, generated conflicts and organised strikes and social
© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature 11

Switzerland AG 2023
P. Borowiec, The Politicization of Social Divisions in Post-War Poland,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-26530-3_2
12 P. BOROWIEC
events. The war destroyed an order that was characterised by wrongs

and social injustice, one in which unjust relations were accepted, justi-
fied and effectively sustained. It was a world where ethnic and religious
inequalities were present next to economic distances. However, demands
for creating just relations also appeared together with calls for rejecting
social pathologies.
The country, reborn in 1918, was taking intensive actions to intro-
duce social and economic changes. It initiated and conducted changes
towards industrialisation and urbanisation, performing limited but indis-
pensable social destructuralisation. The number of industrial workers
employed was growing systematically in the newly developed industrial
centres. However, the social structure was dominated by farmers and
farmworkers employed in large manors. Agriculture was the core of the
contemporary economic system (Wesołowski et al., 2017, p. 41). In
1939, 75% of the Polish population lived in the countryside, with farmers
and farmworkers constituting 55% of the 35 million citizens of Poland.
Industrial workers—who later became the shapers of history—consti-
tuted 27.5% of the population, bourgeoisie—11%, intelligentsia—over
5%, larger entrepreneurs—1%, and landed classes—about 0.4% (Dziurok
et al., 2014, pp. 43–52). The above-mentioned groups were internally
diverse, mainly in economic terms. Social disproportions were running
deep—an example of which may be the distance between the majority
of groups and the entrepreneurs and landed classes or the economic and
cultural rift between the farmers and farmworkers and the intelligentsia.
There were also certain similarities between them—an example of which
can be the similar living standard of farmers, farmworkers and industrial
workers (Turski et al., 1978, p. 81). The society of that time had extreme
faces—on the one hand, small privileged groups; on the other, numerous
and large handicapped groups.
When it comes to nationality, the situation resembled a multicultural
mosaic that is hard to create because of the ambiguous ethnic affiliation
of some of the inhabitants. In some of the people living in the territory
of a country that was being patched together after World War I, national
awareness was barely forming. Over 68% of the population declared Polish
identity. The subsequent most numerous groups were: Ukrainians—over
15%, Jews—8.5%, Belarusians—over 3% and Germans—over 2%. The
remaining ones were: Russians, Lithuanians, Czechs, Romani, a few
Slovaks and Karaites and certain ethnic groups linguistically similar to
Ukrainians (Boykos, Lemkos, Hutsuls), as well as Polonised Armenians
2 THE FIRST STRUCTURAL EXPERIMENT: COMMUNIST-ERA … 13
and Tatars. Social differentiation was the highest among Poles. It is

estimated that they constituted: 60% of all farmers and farmworkers, 75–
80% of industrial workers, about 80% of the intelligentsia, about 40%
of the bourgeoisie and 50% of entrepreneurs. Polish nationality was also
dominant among landed classes.
The majority of Poles were Catholic, and only a small part was Protes-
tant. Ukrainians, who usually worked in agriculture, were mostly Greek
Catholic. A similar religious structure was dominant among Belarusians,
who were either Eastern Orthodox or Catholic. The Belarusian popu-
lation was characterised by the highest percentage of the illiterate. The
majority of Jews, who constituted 21% of the urban population, were
followers of Judaism. They spoke Yiddish and Polish, engaged in various
professions and had a significant share of entrepreneurs, lawyers and
doctors. As much as 55% of doctors in Poland were Jewish (Dziurok et al.,
2014, pp. 43–52).
What remained of that society after the war and the forced resettle-
ments or migrations resulting from the international political arrange-
ments? (Kersten, 2018, p. 201). The consequences of these processes can
be noticed when discussing the social structure, but at the same time can
only be presented in approximation.
Since some Polish citizens remained outside the new borders at the
Eastern Borderlands, all the data is approximate. In 1946, the population
of the country was 23.9 million people, which means that it decreased by
over 30%. Nowadays, the population losses of the Second Polish Republic
are estimated to be about 2.8 million casualties of Polish nationality and
2.7–2.9 million of Jewish nationality, bringing the total losses of the
Polish state to about 5.5–5.7 million people (Roszkowski, 2010, pp. 84–
85). Other nationalities living in the pre-war territory of Poland also
suffered losses. In total, national minorities constituted about 2% of the
population after the war. Thus, the war and the post-war resettlements
formed a nearly uniform society in terms of ethnicity (Eberhardt, 2000,
p. 79).
Among all the groups that composed the pre-war structure, the intel-
ligentsia suffered the greatest losses, which stemmed from the landed
classes and bourgeoisie. Similarly to the case of the Jewish population, it
is also possible to talk of planned extermination with regard to the intelli-
gentsia. The losses among this last group exceeded the average, reaching
up to 58% among lawyers, 38% among doctors and 28% of professors
and higher education facility employees (Palska, 1994, p. 39). Population
14 P. BOROWIEC
losses also translated into a transformation of the religious structure, with

the Roman Catholic denomination becoming dominant in the territory
of Poland after 1945.
While the war damaged the hierarchical organisation of Polish society,
the post-war political and economic changes constituted a ruthless trans-
formation of it. They often took the form of actual physical elimination
of whole social groups, and the decision regarding ideology and poli-
tics became the main structure-building factor (Wnuk-Lipiński, 2008,
p. 57). Their objective was changing the unjust, pre-war structure and
removing all its distances, differing interests, conflicts and antagonisms.
The tasks to be carried out included a revolution of relations leading to
the creation of new socialist relations and building a social space based on
equality—all in the name of justice and dignity of the previously wronged.
A social experiment started to be implemented in which the structure
became an indicator of the effectiveness of changes. Thus, the concept of
a flattened structure of a classless society was promoted, aimed at finally
ending exploitation among people. When it comes to the everyday life of
individuals, the new authorities undertook meeting the material needs
of everyone (Kolarska-Bobińska & Rychard, 1990, p. 5) according to
the social justice principle of: “to everyone according to their needs”
(Świda-Ziemba, 2010, p. 38).
The aims mentioned were ideologised and both ambitious and wishful,
which determined the practical measures employed for furthering them.
The new order was supposed to be built using the available models—
Marxist social theory, scientific socialism and Soviet experiences. It would
be impossible to achieve that without taking advantage of Leninist
concepts, including the practical actions described using the state-
ment/method of: “taking shortcuts without paying attention to costs”.
In practice, all the means to an end became acceptable, including physical
violence against opponents and a radical political and economic change
to the social structure (Mokrzycki, 1997, p. 34) achieved through indus-
trialisation. A radical reconstruction of awareness was also performed—a
supervised and purposeful indoctrination aimed at building an obedient
society that would take actions beneficial to those in power.
The power takeover was commenced on the go, without waiting
for the war to end, using nearly 300,000 Soviet soldiers (Jezierski &
Leszczyńska, 1995, p. 166) present on the Polish territory. Their pres-
ence was decisive for the effectiveness of the introduction of the new
authorities. These actions were anchored in the image of the “eternal”
friendship with the Soviet Union, which was hailed as the model of
relations in every sphere of social life (Fik, 1989, p. 158). However,
designing the new order based on the Soviet model—and according
to the templates (Hirszowicz, 2001, p. 106) from beyond the eastern
border—did not arouse too much enthusiasm in Polish society. To most
Poles, “the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR) was a country of
poverty and enslavement of the society” (Jarosz & Pasztor, 1995, p. 111).
Internal circumstances facilitated a power takeover. The communists were
supported by a part of society that previously experienced discrimination
and exclusion. However, those people expected social advancement in
exchange for providing political support. The majority of society remained
“beyond these changes” and had no impact on their shape (Gawin,
2005, p. 108). It was also not inclined to support them. Society was
also “disciplined” by the local supporters, whose numbers were growing
systematically. In practice, they carried out military, political and repressive
actions per the guidelines received. In 1947, the security agencies alone
employed about 100,000 people. The number of supporters of the new
order was over 1.4 million people at the end of the following year—this
was the number of members of the Polish United Workers’ Party (PZPR)
(Grabowska, 2004, p. 101).
The road to the new order was built on repressions and elimination
of the anti-communist underground (Szpakowski, 1996, pp. 14–79) in
prisons of the Security Office (UB), which continued until mid-1950s
(Paczkowski, 1996, p. 270). In 1950, there were about 35,000 people
imprisoned due to political reasons (Kostewicz, 1996, pp. 121–178).
Additionally, those years also saw the arrest of a few hundred thousand
farmers and farmworkers for delays in providing obligatory supplies, or for
resistance against the collectivisation enforced (Dudek & Zblewski, 2012,
p. 82). All of these repressions contributed to the experience of injustice
being a part of the abundant record of wrongs caused by communism.
The scale of persecution rose until the end of the Stalin era. Both
declared, and potential opponents were being eliminated ruthlessly
(Jarosz & Pasztor, 1995, p. 14). Those who refused to support the new
regime and did not accept it were intimidated. The authorities employed
arrests and mock trials, while those of “improper origin” and oppo-
nents of the new order were denied and deprived of work. Anyone who
could stand in the way of the regime was supervised. Fear, also that for
the safety of one’s family, was employed to enforce conformity, finger-
pointing and making false accusations against fellow workers. Any positive
16 P. BOROWIEC
“memories” of the previous social system were considered a threat and,

therefore, the authorities attempted to oust them from the collective
consciousness. Pre-war pluralism and democracy were ridiculed, existing
social ties were destroyed (together with public confidence) and the intel-
ligentsia and artistic communities were put under supervision. In the
countryside, the farmer’s self-government institutions were being abol-
ished (Styk, 1990, p. 151), medical chambers were dissolved and the
so-called “landed class” (i.e., owners of large manors) were wiped from
history (Kuziński, 1955, p. 8). Any individualism was being extinguished
(Świda-Ziemba, 2010), replaced by organisational unity among youths
(Dudek & Zblewski, 2012, p. 90) and unity of thought and action.
The main part of the legitimisation of communists relied on the ideo-
logical vision of a perfect future, which was presented as feasible and
devoid of alternatives (Duda, 2010, p. 28). It was referred to as the
ideology of historical necessity (Świda-Ziemba, 2010, p. 51). Without
it, it would have been impossible to carry out any activities on such a
major scale. The order being formed, which was supposed to reflect this
vision, was confined within a dichotomously simplified contraposition—
a confrontation between “good” and “evil”. With time, this dichotomy
became dominant among the definitions of reality (Świda-Ziemba, 1998,
p. 289) and evaluation/interpretations of the issues faced by the order.
This unidimensional form of evaluation was applied to individuals as well.
The vision of the change being implemented was legitimised through
examples of pathological relation from the times before the war: “One
of the strengths of the communist vision of the world was its radical
opposition against social inequalities and the irrationality of the capitalist
economy” (Hirszowicz, 2001, p. 9). Such a vision was an attractive choice
for many people and was considered a valuable alternative. Addition-
ally, the propaganda made false simplifications and reinterpretations by
“imposing” new, ideological evaluations on pre-war relations. All commu-
nication was supplemented with images of the future filled with hope.
They were used to create ideological “frameworks” that were difficult
to undermine and convince a part of society. Using the images of injus-
tice, pre-war relations were “expropriated” from individuals and future,
equality-based relations were elevated instrumentally. The capitalist past
was given worthless, negative meanings and the status of evil—outside of
a few examples of positive activity such as the proletariat’s struggle against
capitalism.
Egalitarian order was supported by selected resources of social memory

(i.e., examples from the past). However, the examples of wrongdoings
and poverty referred to were not a propagandist product or mystifi-
cation—they were scenes from the everyday life of many individuals
during the interwar period (Kochanowicz, 2010, pp. 153–180), expe-
riences that were survived and remembered, thus sustaining the need
to abolish social injustice. The wartime experiences only strengthened
those demands. Therefore, the relations from the period of the Second
Polish Republic had few defenders, although it was not a unidirectional
process to which everyone submitted. Many individuals were convinced
that history favoured communism and that the future would belong to it.
Audacious declarations confirmed this regarding the ability to shape the
new order and its scope (Hirszowicz, 2001, p. 83), described in the form
of a collective objective. However, there was also a part of society that
was anchored around positive memories and evaluations of the past. That
is why it is so difficult to determine the degree of contemporary social
approval for building non-antagonistic relations.
The pre-war wrongs were the fundamental source of legitimisation of
the actions that the communists carried out and kept exploiting it for
decades. The injustice was supposed to originate from capitalism and
its ownership structure, presented concerning the means of production.
Its segments (i.e., the capital owners and the supporters of exploita-
tion) survived the war and threatened the formation of the new order,
allegedly. Thus, eliminating those people who sustained ownership rela-
tions, inequalities and divisions was a political task. That partially retained
hierarchy of actual divisions, identical to the pre-war structure, also
became a target of the change postulated by the communists. The deci-
sion to transform the structure and abolish the hierarchies inherited was
made “in the name” of the majority of society by a minority controlled
by representatives of the Soviet Union. Thus, it was an imposed change
(Leder, 2014, p. 7) that ignored all social costs as those were necessary
to incur in the struggle for a better future.
The reconstruction, in line with the ideological assumptions, brought
about tremendous social and economic costs. For many people, it meant
losing their livelihood, abandoning their values, standards and customs,
and also abandoning their religious beliefs under political pressure. It
caused many personal tragedies and led to people moving to the under-
ground, joining the armed struggle, emigrating or attempting to fit in.
The changes commenced also led to capitulation (i.e., acceptance of the
18 P. BOROWIEC
enforced rules of living by individuals). The negative consequences were

particularly noticeable in local communities. They were plagued by chaos,
lawlessness, dominance of the strong and previously unknown distrust.
The changes meant leaving the old relations behind and learning new
ones. For a large part of society, the communist revolution was a tragedy
touching upon the foundations of existential functioning. It was even so
where the attitude towards the change was positive—as in the case of
those farmers and farmworkers who acquiesced to the change. To many
of them, the actions carried out meant success, advancement in the profes-
sional structure, privileges and, often, easier access to goods plagued by
shortages.
Forming the state in line with the new model was taking place as a
result of radically quick actions. Accelerating the rate of change was a
strategy that fitted the Marxist concept of history, leading to complete
political control and enabling structural transformations (Wesołowski,
1989, p. 6). Changes were introduced unexpectedly under the principle of
unconditional acceptance. This acceleration was also a part of the propa-
ganda messages offered to society. It had an intensive presence in the
language that described the actions performed. The slogans of “race with
time” and calls for taking advantage of a historical moment characterised
the strategy applied. The acceleration of political and social transforma-
tions was confirmed through the language used in the discourse, which
was supposed to assure the recipients that the course of history was accel-
erated and keep faith in the imminence of changes and effectiveness of
the authorities. The method of quickly imposed solutions limited oppo-
sition in society. Time became considered as an invaluable revolutionary
resource that was useful for transforming and supervising society. The
management of social time was visible in the propaganda slogans, such as
that about the ceaseless “increase of the tempo of socialist construction”
or the constant struggle with time to benefit society.
Presenting changes as inevitable and impossible to avoid was combined
with references to the Enlightenment. A part of this was the integra-
tion of the communist changes with the course of progress, improvement
and continuation of the march of reason through history. The ideolog-
ically interpreted sense of history, the “historical necessity”, was where
the sense of changes and the hope for them coming true were perceived
to be confirmed. The holistic project introduced constituted a challenge
but also testified to the bravery of the authorities. It demonstrated their
self-confidence and that they had the indispensable knowledge required
for starting the mechanism of change at their disposal. The authori-

ties claimed that the “might of the human mind” was employed to
abolish social inequalities. The society development mechanisms addition-
ally guaranteed the certainty described by Marx, including the conviction
of having discovered the economic rights governing various orders. The
project being implemented was supposed to become a triumph of reason
and the Marxist-Leninist (Świda-Ziemba, 2010, p. 44) science over
tradition, dogmas and all kinds of superstitions and religions.
The activities previously carried out in Soviet Russia were the principal
model for the Polish revolution. They were employed in both internal and
external politics (Opulski, 2016, p. 11). Using them was considered an
obligation, which was aimed at ensuring that the right path that guar-
antees success is followed, the same one that was trodden on by the
builders of the first worker state. This strategy led to Stalinism being
implemented at first and then being condemned and abandoned—similar
to what happened in the USSR. Copying was made a long-term method
of rebuilding reality, and the proper “reading of the template”—was
considered a method for enduring and participating in politics.
The remaining pre-war social structure was subjected to radical and
immediate change. It became the object of propaganda and an instru-
ment of control over society. The inherited structure was defined as a
system of constituents: capitalists, landed classes, workers, the internation-
ally stratified class of small-scale farmers and farmworkers, the internally
non-uniform and numerous bourgeoisie and the internally varied intel-
ligentsia (Szczepański, 1965, p. 10). The task was to eliminate the
elements of the structure that were not in line with Marxist ideology
and remove the antagonistic relations between classes, economic inequal-
ities and the dominance of all kinds of owners. It was visible most clearly
in the economic sphere—in the prepared plan of “takeover” of industry
and agriculture in order for them to become “owned by the nation”
(Zaremba, 2001, p. 148). This was to be achieved by changing ownership
relations and socialising the means of production. The party-based system
of management introduced was supposed to ensure control over owner-
ship on the part of society. Controlling the development—that is, utilising
the existing resources rationally and the supervision of these resources
carried out by the central government—was described by the assumptions
of the new economic order. In practice, this meant not only the nation-
alisation of privately owned establishments but also their destruction and
20 P. BOROWIEC
wastage (Leszczyński, 2013), as well as pushing the private property to

the margin of the state’s economic structure.
The radical liquidation of capitalist hierarchies was to be the begin-
ning of the social justice system. Socialist relations were supposed to
be formed due to “transformation” of individuals and their acceptance
of new standards and values. At first, the revolution took advantage of
the “communist human being” concept, the foundations of which had
already been presented in 1924 by Leon Trotsky (Baczko, 1994, p. 144).
In general, it focused on the elevation of egalitarianism and humanism
and promised the continuation of the Promethean myth (Mazur, 2009).
At the same time, it referred to the template prepared by the Marxist
ideology. According to it, the whole life of individuals and society was
to be subordinated to introducing new ideological solutions (Chojnacki,
2018, p. 149) and implementing a previously designed plan. An indi-
vidual was supposed to be determined and ready to sacrifice their life for
the cause, convinced of the justness of the choices made and working
intensely for the common good. Additionally, they were supposed to be
capable of finding “the (one and only) right way” (Zwierzchowski, 2000,
p. 13). An individual’s devotion to the cause of socialism was supposed
to manifest itself in motivations and the actions taken, which was possible
as a result of the increase in revolutionary awareness and was useful in
both political and ideological struggle. This awareness was supposed to
enable that individual to dispose of the desirable convictions and attitudes
(Mazur, 2009, p. 10). “The new consciousness planned to be formed
in the minds of Polish people was actually supposed to take over the
propaganda slogans. The propaganda was to raise a new human being
exhibiting characteristics of the ‘communist morality’, such as interna-
tionalism and patriotism (as understood by the communists, obviously),
the primacy of public interest over private one, being active and working
efficiently” (Czyżniewski, 2006, p. 8). To form this consciousness, all the
instruments and methods available were employed. For instance, the ideas
of a nation, patriotism, sacrifice or responsibility for the fate of the socialist
community were used instrumentally for elevating collective objectives
over individual objectives and interests. They all formed a catalogue of
model activity and politically desirable and useful behaviour.
National Unity as an Instrument

for Integration and Exclusion
It turned out very quickly that eliminating political opponents does not
guarantee political security and the full extent of power. The authorities
realised that administering legitimisation is indispensable even in an order
without any opposition. For these reasons, they very often took advantage
of various legitimisation strategies, including the propaganda that under-
lined patriotic and national values and references. They strived to obtain
the full support of society and to be able to administer support for change
projects and methods of implementing them. However, despite numerous
actions, they still lacked social credibility and political support. To gain
control over society, a complete separation from the Western world and
limitation of contact with bourgeoisie culture was enforced. The authori-
ties limited discussion and exchange of ideas within the country and even
within their own political camp (Mazur, 2009, p. 195), which eventu-
ally prevented the verification of information communicated to society.
In such an isolated order, manipulation, lies and all other useful propa-
ganda tools were employed in the fight for the “soul of Poles”. A part of
this process was increasing the control over the media and eliminating
competing sources of information, but that did not guarantee success
either. Manipulating information and creating messages favouring the
authorities during the Stalin era was made “one of the most important
weapons in the battle for gaining and maintaining power” (Czyżniewski,
2006, p. 258). Using propaganda, the authorities tried to form a society
that would be more friendly towards them. Attempts were also made to
“Polonise” propaganda—a foreign word with many negative connota-
tions—as akcja zjednawcza (support-winning campaign), which perfectly
demonstrated what kind of hopes were placed in it. The propaganda
aimed simply to win over society—it was a fundamental weapon in the
battle for support.
One of the primary tasks of monopolist communication was
forming the “conviction of persistence and stability of the authorities”
(Czyżniewski, 2006, p. 9). In this message, it was underlined that the
order being built is based on values that are fundamental to the lives of
individuals, assigning only positive evaluations to the reality created and,
at the same time, elevating the activities contributing to building a just
order. It presented sets of ready-made answers to long-standing questions
about the causes of poverty, the fall of man and the sources of conflicts
22 P. BOROWIEC
and inequalities, including the question of where the causes of society’s

misery lie. These explanations met the need of the individuals to have a
simple and systematised vision of order, of what happens and of what the
contemporary struggle was about. In the public discourse, the message
disseminated was that the order being created is “on the common man’s
side”. The individual experience of wrongs was skilfully transformed into
dreams of a better world. Sometimes the tasks undertaken were extremely
difficult and required a great deal of belief in the new order. An example
of that can be the attempts to explain to society in 1952 that the fact
that all of the election candidates originate from a single political force is
not only compatible with democracy, but even an expression of its highest
form (Czyżniewski, 2006, p. 11).
The control over information was a part of a mechanism of total
control over social life. The authorities considered some of the informa-
tion a threat to the order being formed, which is the reason for their
selective treatment of historical events and any accounts of the past—
especially those regarding the history of the Polish state. Manipulation
also encompassed relatively recent events that were a part of the history of
the new order being created. An example is hiding information about the
Soviet army helping with the power takeover (Czyżniewski, 2006, p. 9)
or falsely ascribing certain actions to political opponents. The authori-
ties conveyed false information not only to society, but even to their
own party apparatus. In the political structure, there was a rule that the
higher a given individual was in the party structure, the more information
they were receiving: “The people standing lower in the party and state
hierarchy received information ‘more sparingly’. In most cases, they had
to settle for half-truths, guesswork and assumptions” (Jarosz & Pasztor,
1995, p. 14).
In their propaganda, the authorities used newspeak intensively
(Głowiński, 2009), and its meaning and characteristics evolved over time.
Trivialities, obvious facts and simple catchphrases describing the new
ideals and values received the status of revealed truths for which society
supposedly had waited for decades. They became signposts, motivators
and powerful justifications for the objectives pursued and the activity
forms employed. The messages of revolution reached everyone and,
thanks to the information monopoly, tore into the previously unavail-
able social spaces by anchoring themselves effectively in science, politics
and everyday interactions. Their effectiveness stemmed partially from
the fact that they were presented as scientific knowledge resources, thus
increasing their strength. Another reason was the impossibility of verifying

the information that the messages included. Meanwhile, scientific knowl-
edge, especially historical, was being manipulated. Numerous examples
of class struggle were found in the past that were supposed to confirm
that it is a force that drives social changes. The Marxist concept, enriched
with Lenin’s thought, was made the model in research and for making
comparisons. The Marxist concept of social structure and the theory of
social class became a sort of theoretical “frameworks” and templates for
analysing society.
The authorities obtained legitimisation through manipulation by
generating strong emotions, inciting fear, anxiety or pathos and control-
ling everything impossible to previously control. They were apt at creating
a reality based on imaginations with new hierarchies of values, and strived
to form an atmosphere conducive to exercising their power, which was
useful from the point of view of their interests. At first, the authori-
ties tried to keep the appearance of post-war Poland as a democratic
country, which is why there was no radical opposition against the founda-
tions of the society’s identity. During the years 1944–1947, even contact
with Christian symbolism was maintained, Catholic church bishops were
invited to participate in state ceremonies (Świda-Ziemba, 2010, p. 68)
and there was no interference in the religious sphere of party activists.
Memorial services for the souls of communist militiamen fallen in battle
were still allowed (Os˛eka, 2007, p. 45). The authorities maintained an
ideological relationship between the Christian ideology and the fight of
the exploited classes for their rights, which was supposed to confirm the
grass-roots origin of the latter. Being close to the people, the local author-
ities and the central ones were supposed to legitimise the communists. Its
purpose was also to undermine the spreading rumours of their external,
anti-national origin.
To reinforce their legitimisation, the authorities referred to both
Christian and patriotic-national values. At first, the representatives of
the new government did not shy away from participating en masse
(Osóbka-Morawski, 1981). They referred to deeply rooted community
symbols in the form of the national colours, the national anthem or
distinguished historical figures: Mikołaj Kopernik, Adam Mickiewicz or
Tadeusz Kościuszko (Zaremba, 2001, p. 121). They also referred to
selected events such as the Battle of Grunwald or national insurrections
and persons easy to affiliate with communism, such as Jakub Szela, Rev.
Piotr Ściegienny or Edward Dembowski. However, they did not limit
24 P. BOROWIEC
themselves to reminding them, but carried out intensive manipulation.

They described the course of many events in a way contrary to the facts
or claimed that Adam Mickiewicz himself was fighting for socialism. What
they were doing was a certain “perfecting” of symbols by adjusting them
to new times and challenges. They transformed the national emblem,
depriving the eagle of its crown, or skilfully combined the communist
movement with the symbolism of Worker’s Day (1st May). They also
reached out to values and resources that were less rooted in the social
consciousness and totally new ones. An example of that is the celebra-
tion of the National Day of the Rebirth of Poland (22nd July), Polish
Armed Forces Day (12th October) and anniversaries of events related
to revolutionary Soviet leaders—Vladimir Lenin or Joseph Stalin. Some
historical facts and characters that were inconvenient to the new ideology
were “killed with silence” or aptly depreciated by the authorities in line
with the message: “What we do not celebrate did not happen” (Os˛eka,
2007, p. 56). The new heroes of the collective memory originated from
the “working masses of cities and countryside” and were often activists of
the party apparatus, usually “people and events of little significance, but
ideologically catchy” (Czyżniewski, 2006, p. 176).
The character of certain relations between the authorities and society is
perfectly shown by the course of the contemporary ceremonies and rituals
related to the new order (Miernik, 2007, p. 123). It was the leaders of the
Polish Committee of National Liberation (PKWN) (in 1944) who had
already attached particular weight to symbols and rituals, noticing their
major significance for achieving the goals assumed, gaining the support
of masses and control over them and for enforcing subordination. Signif-
icant events were not only celebrated, but also had specific scenarios of
ceremonies and rituals elaborated for them. Ceremonies were purpose-
fully prepared with properly assigned roles for the communist leader and
the population. The observers’ behaviour was divided into roles, and they
were assigned certain expected reactions to play. The scenarios envisaged
symptoms of “spontaneity” of participants and the occurrence of bottom-
up initiatives confirming the approval for the whole order (Os˛eka, 2007,
pp. 12–37). All the ceremonies were under the constant supervision of
the security measures. The population’s participation in official celebra-
tions was supposed to indicate the rightfulness of the authorities, while in
practice, it was confirming the distance between the ruling apparatus and
the society [at that time]. During the ceremonies, some negative social
attitudes towards the authorities were expressed (Kamiński, 2000, p. 39)
and were not always accompanied by the enthusiasm expected. Therefore,

not all the forms of the authorities trying to bond with the nation ended
in success.
National traditions and patriotism were being used instrumentally for
legitimising the order (Zaremba, 2001, p. 7), even though the atti-
tude of communists towards these ideas was negative. To them, the
only fatherland was the “motherland of international proletariat” and,
therefore, they found any references to national independence hard to
accept. Some of the symbols of the national community were subjected
to a particular “reconstruction”—significant instrumental processing—by
the authorities. They were building new relations by combining even
distant historical periods, employing time compression and presenting
the relations of “people’s” authorities with selected elements of social
remembrance, which turned out to be exceptionally useful. In order to
build the necessary legitimisation, the authorities sought the roots of the
communist order in the times of the Piast dynasty’s rule in Poland in the
tenth century (Gomułka, 1962, p. 131). This kind of binding of commu-
nism with the beginnings of the Polish statehood was a way of forming
a founding myth and providing the idea of Polish communism with a
feeling of stability. Additionally, it formed a symbolic “liturgical year” that
was indispensable to the authorities (Miernik, 2007, p. 123).
In view of the aspiration to subordinate society to the Soviet state,
sustaining the concept of national unity was a form of political cynicism.
The actions taken and the propaganda instruments applied confirmed
that without referring to national identity and convincing those sharing
that identity that at least an apparent unity is being formed, it would be
impossible for the new authority structures to take root. The authorities’
decisions regarding using the idea of a nation also testified to the strength
of this idea and the significance of the symbols, myths, historical charac-
ters and emotions forming it. The usefulness of the unity postulate that
it was also influenced by the pre-war experiences (i.e., the ethnic diver-
sity of the society). That is why the idea of a nation strengthened the
current policy by referring to the pre-war quarrelling and ethnic divisions
presented as “pathologies of democracy and capitalism”.
The instrumental use of the national unity category in a society
“formed” by the war was a safe strategy applied by the authorities
(Lewandowski, 1972, pp. 62–100). When it comes to ethnic composi-
tion, Poland was nearly uniform and, therefore, “talking” about a nation
seemed credible. The ethnicity of other groups was not noticed—they
26 P. BOROWIEC
were deprived of it from the top-down. To this end, the concept of

internationalism was employed, which stated that the proletariat “has
no nationality”. “Coexistence with Polishness” itself was supposed to be
temporary as the anticipated successes of communism were expected to
lead to it eventually being abolished.
After 1945, communist groups fought a military struggle with the pro-
independence underground while simultaneously calling them to reach an
agreement and achieve national concord. They suggested the possibility
of leading to “creation of national solidarity” (Zaremba, 2001, p. 123).
Such an approach to national matters constituted a deliberate strategy by
communists, employed during the period of power struggle. The nation-
alist character of this policy went beyond pompous reference to elements
of national tradition—it reached beyond the integrative dimension. The
offer of unity was, next to the mass terror employed, an offer that could
not be refused—it did not accept a lack of consent. It meant a situation
without alternatives, where its hidden strength lay. Any refusal to under-
take cooperation and a collective quest for unity meant being pushed
outside of the community and was unambiguously exclusive.
The concept of unity was employed during the creation of the founda-
tions of communist structures in the propaganda messages of the Polish
Workers’ Party (PPR) (Jóźwiak, 1952) or the self-proclaimed Polish
Committee of National Liberation (PKWN)—the task of which was to
take over the administrative authority in Poland under the umbrella of
the Soviet secret services and be an alternative to the Government of
the Republic of Poland in exile. The use of PKWN in propaganda mani-
fested itself later in the form of the decree on agricultural reform and the
celebration of 22nd July—“National Day of the Rebirth of Poland”—
as the day of “Freedom of the Polish Nation”. The continuation of the
desire for unity was the creation of the puppet Provisional Government of
National Unity in June 1945 (Jezierski & Leszczyńska, 1995, pp. 173–
174), uniting the communist activists, some of the people’s and socialist
politicians and people from intelligentsia communities. The role of non-
communist activists was being limited, and they were effectively deprived
of their influence and ultimately forced to flee the country. Including
“unity” in the name provided the impact desired and enabled controlling
the political situation by underlining the openness towards agreement and
concord. The noticeable movement away from nationalistic legitimisation
was gradual and became clear from the moment of the referendum (1946)
that was manipulated by the communists (Zaremba, 2001, p. 175).
Organisational unity was an important value in Poland after 1945. It

turned out that it was also necessary for parties competing for the power
takeover. Without eliminating the organisational “double voice” of the
groups trying to build a “people’s state”, taking over the power would
be more difficult. This was confirmed by the rivalry between the Polish
Workers’ Party (PPR) and the Polish Socialist Party (PPS), which was
noticeable to everyone. An example of it was the search for an answer
to the question: “Who is going to carry the banner of the national
unity?” (Osóbka-Morawski, 1946, p. 1). Thus, revolutionary efficiency
requires the unity of activists, although even the calls for unity them-
selves granted certain credibility and was a part of this rivalry. The basic
grounds for agreement between these two left-wing parties—as argued
by the contemporary propaganda—was their previous actions that led to
regaining independence, the unification around the same ideas and the
willingness to lead to establishing dominance over the people (Syzdek,
1975, p. 27). The actual form of organisational unity was achieved in
December 1948 when the Polish United Workers’ Party (PZPR) was
formed. Its formation meant a completely new stage of changes intro-
duced in Poland (Jezierski & Leszczyńska, 1995, p. 210). The period
from the formation of PKWN to the unification assembly of PZPR was
later named “the birth of the authority system” (Kersten, 2018).
The authorities presented organisational unity as an example of respon-
sibility for Poland and as a confirmation of the democratic character of the
newly established party. In practice, the “fleshing out” of unity took place
over many years and was intensively controlled and stimulated behind
the scenes. The supervisory activities in this direction originating from
the Soviet representatives are described in detail by works of historians.
Organisational and programme unity within the scope of revolutionary
action and thinking were again instruments used for internal struggle
with political opponents and controlling different political communities of
activists competing for power within the party. It was exceptionally useful
and helped eliminate from the party structures those activists who had
divergent ideas that were not compliant with the binding line imposed
and threatening the majority. Whenever there were calls for “purifying
the structures”, the need for “ideological unity” within their own ranks
was suggested.
The new order based its legitimisation also on other actions. The post-
war reality required being active and resourceful. It was necessary to
mobilise the masses towards rebuilding the country. These very necessary
28 P. BOROWIEC
actions became a part of the process of the communists taking root in

society. The authorities made their struggle with physical destruction and
supervision of the post-war reconstruction one of the arguments for their
power. That is why they conducted actions aimed at ensuring stabilisation
and order—one of the fundamental objectives of their administration. The
need for safety and peace was a fundamental part of social expectations,
which is why the propaganda messages and information on successes
(either actual or fictional) became so frequent in any communication
directed to society.
A good example of the above-discussed legitimisation was the
rebuilding of Warsaw. The enthusiasm and spontaneity of the society
that strived to return to normality were used for political purposes. The
rebuilding of the capital city was made into a national political and
economic programme. Propaganda was convincing people that “the unity
of everyone’s actions is the slogan for the next year”, that “the whole
nation is building its capital city” or that “a united nation encounters
no difficulties”. The rebuilding was linked to patriotism, unity and the
persistence of community. Such an approach turned out to be effective
in mobilising the masses and encouraging participation in bringing the
destroyed city back to life. The buildings and streets were rebuilt and the
commissioned tram lines were declared symbols of efficiency—and, there-
fore, usefulness—of the new order. Propaganda called for competing at
work and suggested a need for increased productivity and dedication to
work. All efforts were geared towards rebuilding the capital city. These
efforts led to the activation of society, created trust and generated loyalty
towards the order of the political groups in power.
The rebuilding initiatives sustained the dichotomous division into the
rebuilding party and the opposing party serving only the foreign centres,
which was imposed by the authorities. The authorities employed this
scheme of description of the contemporary reality for their own political
and sociotechnical purposes. Once it gained the nature of an ultimatum,
it was used for the intensive exclusion of opponents and building artifi-
cial differences that were not based on actual inequalities. In most cases,
the authorities created them instrumentally, only for temporary polit-
ical needs. For the purposes of these activities, the authorities also took
advantage of the still-existing social differentiation, which was made a
point of reference for the policy conducted, anchored around the “gov-
ernment and nation” vs “opponents and threatening enemies” relation.
The authorities assigned negative characteristics and condemnable moral

meanings to the nation’s opponents.
In the information communicated, the authorities dehumanised all
opponents—not only those understanding national unity differently, but
also those reacting negatively to the socio-political order being formed.
Propaganda was leaving people no choice—being an opponent of the
nation meant being deprived of the right to participate in social life. Such
an opponent was marginalised by the nation because the lack of involve-
ment in building the new order was unacceptable since it delayed the
course of history and the moment of appearance of a perfect world. In
practice, the authorities labelled all the defiant or inconvenient opponents
as enemies. And as historians demonstrate, there was no shortage of such
opponents during the period of the Polish People’s Republic (PRL). They
were all quickly deprived of their place in the community, physically elim-
inated by the security measures in place or forced to emigrate. Pushing
“problematic” opponents beyond borders was used (by the authorities)
for the whole duration of the Polish People’s Republic period. It was a
specific “form of coordination of values” that employed force, violence
and silencing of opponents, representing a totalitarian approach to the
idea of unity. All the detected deviations from the template adopted
became an object of attack. And when some of them turned out impos-
sible to overcome, the authorities turned a blind eye to them, claiming
that they simply did not exist.
Achieving national unity was not an easy task, especially in the light
of the thesis of “aggravation of class contradictions together with the
progress in building socialism” (Paczkowski, 2000, p. 283), which the
propaganda kept using. It presented a significant aspect of the order based
on creating a conflict convenient to the authorities and managing it, as
well as forming dichotomous oppositions useful to the authorities for
political purposes. It was generated not in order to solve or eliminate
specific social issues, but only to remain in power. This means that the
divisions employed for political purposes were often fictional and found
no confirmation in actual inequalities. All of them were anchored in
dichotomy by the authorities. It was the simplest one possible and, there-
fore, easy to understand: it meant the presence of and struggle between
good and evil. Constant tension was created and maintained in the oppo-
sitions built. The category of the nation turned out to be particularly
useful and, therefore, was manipulated intensively. An example of that
30 P. BOROWIEC
can be identifying workers with the nation and putting them in opposi-
tion to students. Such an opposition, asymmetric in terms of numbers, led
to the creation of a “force of attraction” on the majority side, including
being in the ultimate right. It was supposed to attract and integrate the
other with the majority group. It also enabled the elimination of differ-
ences in the majority group itself. The aim of such actions was to “force”
people to accept the problems of everyday life and support the author-
ities by accepting the interpretations that were of use to them. This is
evidenced by propaganda slogans such as: “Be wary towards the enemy of
the nation”, “The party and the nation fight together for a better tomor-
row” or “3 times YES – this is an expression of the unity of the Polish
nation” (Zaremba, 2001, p. 153).
History was made the main platform for seeking enemies of the order.
It was in relation to it that the communist authorities positioned them-
selves and where they sought bases for useful dichotomies. That is why
the pre-war state and its elites were degraded symbolically. There was a
clear declaration of cutting off from the past and abandoning continuous
development. The dichotomy that constructed the fundamental interpre-
tations was the system of the “old” order and the “new” order, which
formed a line that was difficult to cross over. It was an opposition that
ensured the main drive of the revolution, the desire to differ from the
past and constantly seek evidence—whether true or fictional—that the
decision made by history was not a mistake. Similarly, society was being
reassured that the revolution was necessary and that the reality created was
better and, therefore, valued positively. The new order was exceptionally
flexible. To survive, it often accepted various deviations from the model
set and the ideology defining it but always took advantage of discrediting
its opponents. It made fighting enemies a fundamental part of actions
contributing to the achievement of political objectives. The existence of
enemies allowed the authorities to differentiate society according to their
political needs.
It was not only the past that constituted a source for political strategies.
Creating an available, understandable and relatively effective communi-
cation required reference to contemporary problems. The contemporary
problems that were difficult to solve determined the categories of new
enemies. Among them were representatives of all the social groups:
penmen and writers who tried to negate the sense of the notion of
“nation and purposefulness of any sacrifices for it” itself (Fik, 1989),
and then “landed lords”, “underground thugs”, “kulaks” or “saboteurs”.
All of these people were an obstacle to the economy of socialism and

took subversive actions, both in the countryside and in cities. Spies were
appearing everywhere and were being spotted by the authorities, even in
their own party. At first, it was claimed that they would sneak into “the
state apparatus for subversive and sabotage purposes”, and later this was
used, for example, to fight the supporters of the “right-wing nationalist
deviation” intensively (Zaremba, 2001, p. 190). Spies were said to be
present in all social groups, particularly among the clergy.
Most of the dichotomies used were rooted in the contemporary, taking
advantage of the economic system pathologies and everyday problems and
ills of society, an example of which can be the phenomenon of specula-
tion. The demand for punishing the speculators also meant, in practice,
a demand for punishing the workers selling their benefits in kind that
they were receiving in addition to their monthly salary. At the same time,
the calls for fighting speculators issued by the authorities found signif-
icant support among workers (Kenney, 1997, p. 220). The “majority”
vs “speculators” opposition that was created played a significant role in
propaganda for a certain time. According to Gomułka, a speculator was
allegedly “the most predatory, anti-national and anti-social as he only
appears where he sees the largest sources of income for himself. The
interest and good of the national are completely alien to him” (Gomułka,
1962, p. 389). The problems with providing society with the most
fundamental goods made this dichotomy significant. However, an insight
into the actual contemporary economic situation confirms that specula-
tors were a consequence of the shortcomings of the centrally planned
economy.
Taking advantage of dichotomies required attributing values and
assigning moral supremacy to the nation and groups included in it. Thus,
propaganda was assigning elevated and noble characteristics to groups
working towards the national interest (i.e., workers, farmers, working
intelligentsia and party apparatus). The opponents were refused any
positive characteristics—they were allegedly cruel and ruthless. The oppo-
sition created employed vilifying, dehumanising and stigmatising. The
authorities were intensively using the existing social stereotypes, myths
and prejudices. For a long time, any defence against false information, lies
or false accusations was impossible. “Sometimes they were simply slighted,
with insults in almost gutter language thrown at them” (Czyżniewski,
2006, p. 190). Propaganda used all the statements of the government,
32 P. BOROWIEC
also those that were direct calls for the physical elimination of enemies
standing in the way of socialism.
The propaganda communication employed the category of “war”
intensively. The tragic consequences of war and the crimes committed
by the German occupants were presented extensively, fanning the flame
of anti-German sentiment (Lesiakowski, 2008, p. 30) and sustaining
the validity of threats. The war atmosphere was strengthened using
notions and expressions typical of military language. The fact that the
Polish state was anchored in the community of socialism-building states
competing with capitalism sustained the contemporary dichotomy of two
opposing camps and, additionally, made reality more understandable to
society. The core of the international dichotomy was the two sides imple-
menting opposing objectives: one seeking confrontation and war, and the
other seeking the end of confrontations and fighting for peace. There
was an immutable contrast present between the capitalist countries and
the peace-loving camp: the former were immersed in chaos, crisis and
weakness, while the others were characterised by social development,
strength and courage (Czyżniewski, 2006, p. 190). The backwardness
and warmongering of the imperialist camp was fiercely condemned and
stigmatised (Fik, 1989, p. 143). The communist side, referring to itself
as socialist, was the embodiment of progress and peace, exhibited revolu-
tionary consciousness and had the knowledge of the rules of history at its
disposal—so, it was being ceaselessly elevated. Among the enemies were
not only the “Anglo-Saxon imperialists”, but also the “eternal enemy” in
the form of the Federal Republic of Germany (Zaremba, 2001, p. 157).
In this never-ending rivalry, it was a civic duty to join the forces of
progress and development and support their actions and objectives.
The use of the idea of a nation and making it the ideological core of
the new order, especially during the times of post-war crisis and ruthless
struggle for power and elimination of the opposition, is significant for the
repartition practices discussed in this work. The majority of these practices
employed the ideas of national and patriotism either directly or through
implication (Zaremba, 2001, p. 152). At the same time, these practices
were anchored in the inequalities and injustice experienced. However,
they were formulated intensively and sustained in the forms most benefi-
cial to contemporary authorities. All of them determined how individuals
thought about being together and participating in the national commu-
nity for many decades to come. It is also possible that such an intensive
manifestation of the need to be together was one of the reasons for
sustaining national identity in a part of society. It also constituted an

important factor that led to the fall of the order because society noticed
the fiction in references to the national interest made by the authorities.
Their declarations of serving the country and society were empty. On
the other hand, it was noticed that their actions hurt the interest of the
community. Such actions strengthened the conviction that the authori-
ties had little to do with the national community and that the nation
consisted of people who the authorities kept forgetting. The observations
of this kind may have led to the appearance of the imagination of the
need for the existence of a true community, which formed the basis for
the “us” vs “them” social division.
A Revolutionary Attack
on Existing Social Divisions
The main task of the authorities was to transform the remains of the capi-
talist structure permeated by unacceptable inequalities in line with the
plan accepted and the ideology adopted. Ultimately, the aim was to finish
with threatening distances and structural elements from the Second Polish
Republic, causing feelings of a lack of security and, therefore, retaining
social divisions. The structure inherited was to be changed radically and
adjusted to Soviet models functioning in line with the concept of full
employment, production supervision, state interference in society and a
project consistent with humanist and progressive values. The authorities
were quick to commence it without even waiting for a full takeover of
power.
In the first post-war years, the scale and dynamics of social and
economic transformations were astonishing. A part of them was the
state taking over the accumulated possessions of “exploiters and petty
capitalists”, which was considered abandoned. After the Red Army
entered Poland, the accelerated plundering of private property was started
through the nationalisation of medium and large industries. The property
and real estate in territories regained from Germany were treated similarly.
The process of property takeover proceeded as follows: a “liberated” plant
was entered by a representative of the “people’s” state, a plenipotentiary
of the Provisional Government of the Republic of Poland and an officer
of the Red Army, and they declared “requisitioning” of that plant for
the purposes of the people’s authority being formed. The pre-war owners
had nothing to return to. During the years 1944–1946, 10,662 industrial
34 P. BOROWIEC
enterprises and 2,252 commercial enterprises were nationalised (Anasz &

Wesołowski, 1976, p. 33). This is how bourgeois Poland was eliminated—
and in the propaganda messages, this was described as an act of historical
justice. In view of the Soviet army controlling every aspect of life, it was
impossible to oppose these actions.
The nationalisation of industry and implementation of the Soviet
model of management (Jezierski & Leszczyńska, 1995, s. 190) were
not supported universally by society, but only by the groups encom-
passed by the so-called “social advancement” (Marody, 1991a, p. 53),
which were the most susceptible to the impact of the ideology of equality
in the form imposed. The contemporary descriptions also feature state-
ments that the nationalisation of industry was expected and desired by
society and that the pre-war experience of private factories made the
workers support the new forms of managing them (Kenney, 1997, p. 33).
The processes of taking over the industry and organising new forms of
management in it determined the main points on the line of deep social
structuring processes. Every workplace was defined as the main centre of
the “formation of new, socialist relations and the main centre of the imple-
mentation of ideas of socialist humanism”, and the strength of the system
was supposed to depend on how the social relations within workplaces
looked (Wacławek, 1965, pp. 4–5). Any obstacles on the way to imple-
menting new economic solutions were removed instrumentally together
with gaining the material base for political actions of the party apparatus.
The actions mentioned above were just the beginning, complemented by
the “conscious, revolutionary transformation of the structure during the
years 1944–1945” (Wesołowski, 1978a, p. 26).
However, the most important role in the initial phase of the structural
change was given to the most numerous group—the rural population,
which the authorities saw as the future loyal supporters of the order, a
“pillar of the new system” (Zagórski, 1978, p. 21).
The agricultural reconstruction was to be radical, thus confirming the
ideal of the revolution and its concept of justice. At the same time,
it was supposed to confirm the possibilities of communists concerning
rebuilding the world, as well as their capability of implementing large-
scale projects (Wesołowski, 1978a, p. 26). A radical change in the
structure of land acreage in the countryside was intended to be the
answer to the manifestations of inequality, feeling of injustice and actual
poverty among farmers and farmworkers, which were unacceptable there.
According to the population census of 1931, “60.6% of the population
of pre-war Poland worked in agriculture, and the remaining 39.4% in

non-agricultural jobs” (Wesołowski, 1969, p. 12). In 1944, farmers and
farmworkers constituted nearly 70% of the society. After 1945, the situa-
tion of farmers and farmworkers was described using the Marxist concept
of social class (Widerszpil, 1965, p. 30)—instrumental and politically
useful analyses of social structure. It was claimed that a class differen-
tiation of the farmer population took place in the countryside before
the war, based on their attitude towards the means of production. The
numbers of the rural semi-proletariat class increased. The economically
weak farmer class took shape, while the inexpensive employed labour
was exploited by the class of small agricultural capitalists (Turski et al.,
1978, p. 48). The presence of large farms in the agricultural structure was
criticised. Such farms were later subdivided (Wesołowski, 1969, p. 10).
The agricultural reform was carried out according to the decree of the
Polish Committee of National Liberation (PKWN), which signalled social
and economic reforms (Szczepański, 1965, p. 19)—a document devoid of
references to the communist ideology and therefore acceptable to a large
part of political groups (Zaremba, 2001, p. 139). It included universal
and politically useful slogans underling, for example, the necessity to
ensure universal employment (Mrówczyńska, 1977), which later changed
into guaranteed employment. The agricultural reform included state-
owned, post-German, abandoned properties, as well as large acreages
owned by individuals and legal entities. The land was distributed equally
among farmers who held little or no land and was seized by the state.
During the years 1944–1948, 9,707 land estates encompassing about
3.49 million hectares were taken over for the agricultural reform. In
the end, 1.2 million hectares were distributed among 387,000 farmer
families (Chwalba, 1999, pp. 718–719). Of the land distributed, the over-
whelming majority was assigned to new farms and about 500,000 ha was
dedicated to the enlargement of the already existing ones. From among
the farms existing in 1949 on the so-called “old land”, every fourth one
benefited from the agricultural reform. The changes introduced by the
agricultural reform into the agrarian structure of the farmer class were
of great significance. The number of farms with less than 2 ha of land
or more than 20 ha of land (i.e., the extreme groups) decreased, while
the number of farms with small (2–5 ha) and medium areas increased.
The farms with 5–20 ha of land constituted 41.5% of the whole farms in
1950 and accounted for 68.2% of the land of farmers (Turski et al., 1978,
pp. 48–49). On the land recovered from Germany, a single distribution of
36 P. BOROWIEC
land amounted to 7–15 ha (Kołomejczyk & Syzdek, 1971; Słabek, 1972).

In total, 6,070.1 ha of land was transferred to farmers there during the
years 1944–1949, and 814,000 farms were created (Góra, 1969, p. 7).
The subdivided land was distributed among farmers who had either no
land or had small and medium farms, which is why the structure of farms
became fragmented. In 1950, there were over 1.5 million farms smaller
than 5 ha (Turski et al., 1978, p. 49).
The agricultural reform was a flagship project of communism, simple
in terms of its nature. It consisted in depriving landowners of their land
and distributing it among landless farmers. Despite that, it still caused
social feuds and disputes. For landowners, it was the time to emigrate
as they had no instruments at their disposal that would let them oppose
the subdivision of their land. The reform caused conflicts both on the
part of its beneficiaries and on the part of families deprived of land.
The method of distributing the land caused conflicts due to the limited
supply and major demand. Misunderstandings were less frequent when
settling farms on land recovered from Germany. The assignment of small
acreages stemmed not only from the equality idea promoted, but also
from reasons of political and planning nature. It turned out quickly that,
in the near future, collectivisation of the countryside was planned (i.e.,
complete control over food production being taken over by the party
apparatus [Leszczyński, 2013, p. 334]). The rumours that the distribu-
tion was temporary and that the land would be handed over to state farms
formed on the basis of the Soviet model were confirmed. The declara-
tions trying to reassure people were to no avail: “Remember, however,
that it is only our rule that can guarantee your perpetual control over the
land owned and protection against the nightmare of ‘kolkhozes’” (Witek,
1946, p. 3). The collectivisation was confirmed by the limitations within
the scope of individual building construction—introduced for some of
the agricultural land—necessary to transform these areas into large farms
in the future. The information and rumours regarding collectivisation in
Soviet Russia horrified the farmers (Kamiński, 2011).
The reforms’ purpose was to destroy the landowner class and large
multi-generational specialised farms (Lewandowski, 2008, p. 208), which
were the foundation of the pre-war agricultural economy. To the farm-
workers (previously living from occasional work and not having any land
of their own) who received the land, the reform meant social and finan-
cial advancement, an actual benefit (Kersten, 2018, p. 209) and allowed
them to feel like an owner. In terms of the economy, the small size of the
land assigned did not guarantee adequate income or standard of living.

In spite of that, conducting that reform was the part of a revolution that
spoke to the imagination of the disadvantaged.
However, the change in agriculture temporarily satisfied the aspirations
and expectations of farmers. They became an instrument of influence on
the countryside and of pursuing political and ideological objectives—a
significant political resource in the hands of those in power. The distribu-
tion of land was presented as an act of social justice, carried out according
to the rule of “an equal share to each”. The authorities were using the
message regarding solving social problems and the willingness to end
farmers’ poverty. In the reforms made, the economic calculations were
not taken into account—only the social and political ones. The author-
ities did not consider the efficiency of farming, nor did they take into
account that the property allocated could not be taken away in practice.
The sole purpose of the reform was to obtain short-term political support,
and its purpose was to provide the farmers with a sense of rapid improve-
ment in their financial situation. It led to the elimination of not only large
manors, but also many medium-scale farms that could have formed the
foundation for efficient agriculture.
Based on the decree of PKWN, those gifted were obligated to pay
for the land with the equivalent of the average annual harvest within
twenty years, mainly in the form of crops. The burden of this payment was
extended for many years, partially ensuring, at the same time, the supply
of products. The reform ensured sufficient basic agricultural production,
which meant achieving self-sufficiency in terms of food during the post-
war years. Conducting it also brought measurable positive consequences
for the whole management system. It helped eliminate the traditional
debt incurred by farmers (that was known for years), as well as the actual
famine and poverty in some of the farmer families (Turski et al., 1978,
p. 73). However, not all of its consequences turned out to be func-
tional for the order. In many regions of the country, conducting it led
to conflicts and divisions among local communities. One of the conse-
quences was the aggravation of conflicts between poor farmers and the
rich ones, also referred to as kulaks.
The reform also determined [for the economic system] the model of
relations in the countryside and the scheme of relations with the other
classes as it determined the maximum level of management capability
for farmers through instruments such as the upper limit of the surface
area of an individual farm. It introduced the “dwarf” farms and low
38 P. BOROWIEC
production efficiency into the agricultural structure, but retained private

ownership. The owners soon realised that when they were forced to look
for income in other sectors of the economy. A situation of hidden migra-
tion appeared, where small-scale farmers systematically travelled to work
in nearby industrial centres that were intensely looking for labour. In prac-
tice, a significant group of farmers was forced to earn their income outside
of farming.
The rumours of collectivisation turned out to be the greatest threat to
obtaining the support of farmers for the new order. They nullified some
of the positive political consequences of the reform and introduced a lack
of trust in the relations between farmers and authorities. However, all the
rumours had their confirmation in reality. Most attempts at introducing
collectivisation over the years failed. The greatest intensity of subordi-
nating the countryside to the authorities by means of repressions and
administrative actions took place in the years 1952–1953. The collectivi-
sation policy implemented thus far turned out to be an economic and
social failure, leading “the countryside to economic ruin. Its bankruptcy
became obvious in 1956” (Jarosz & Pasztor, 1995, pp. 29–44). Imposing
of collectivisation, failure of new forms of farm management and reluc-
tance and enmity of farmers towards collectivisation forced the authorities
to accept the existence of residual capitalist relations (Turski et al., 1978,
pp. 50–51) in the countryside. The distribution of land alone “kept a
large number of farmers in the system of thinking about profit”, revolving
around resourcefulness and responsibility for one’s own fate, which made
it more difficult to make a change in countryside relations that the author-
ities planned. The structure of farms made many farmers stay with the
traditional farmer economy. They made products for their own needs and
sold surpluses privately or delivered them to socialised buying points.
The appearance of farmers–workers was not the only noticeable feature
of the structure of the farmer class. When analysing this class, some
scholars actually talked about two different classes of farmers—individual
farmers and collective farmers. In this manner, the farmers were differ-
entiated in terms of control over means of production—in the case of
individual farmers, this control was complete (Turski et al., 1978, pp. 39–
47). Although the cooperatives referred to pre-war traditions, they had
little to do with them. In reality, they were state-owned enterprises
completely subordinated to central planning, used for spreading control
over agricultural workers and preparing and “training” the planned collec-
tivisation of the countryside. The proclaimed voluntary character of
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The fur business of Canada has its beginning
when the company trader strikes a bargain with the
Eskimo for his season’s catch of the white fox of the
arctic and other skins.
The Hudson’s Bay Company has more than two
hundred trading posts where Indians, Eskimos, and
white trappers exchange furs for goods. Eighteen of
the stations lie near or north of the Arctic Circle.
Most of the fine fox skins now marketed in
Canada come from animals raised in captivity on fur
farms. Occasionally a cat may act as a substitute
mother for a litter of fox kittens.
Winnipeg has long been an important city in the Canadian fur
trade, and here the world’s greatest fur organization has its
headquarters. I refer, of course, to the Hudson’s Bay Company,
which for more than two hundred and fifty years has been bartering
goods for the furs of British North America. It was founded when the
British had scarcely a foothold in Canada, and its operations won for
them their dominion over the northwestern part of our continent. In
the beginning it was but one of many trading enterprises of the New
World. To-day it has adapted itself to the tremendous changes in our
civilization and it is bigger, stronger, and richer than ever.
Massachusetts Colony was not fifty years old when the
Nonsuch, loaded to the waterline with the first cargo of furs, sailed
for England from Hudson Bay. The success of the voyage led the
dukes and lords who backed the venture to ask King Charles II for a
charter. This was granted in 1670, and thus came into existence, so
far as the word of a king could make it so, “The Governor and
Company of Adventurers of England Trading into Hudson’s Bay,”
exclusive lords and proprietors of a vast and but vaguely known
region extending from Hudson Bay westward, with sole rights to fish,
hunt, and trade therein.
It remained for the Company to make good the privileges
conferred by the charter and maintain the profits, which at that period
sometimes amounted to one hundred per cent. a year. For nearly a
century the company’s ships and forts did battle with the armed
forces of the French. For another long period its factors and traders
had to meet the attacks of rival companies. At times the company
was nearly wiped out by the heavy losses it sustained. For almost
two centuries it furnished the only government of the Canadian
Northwest, and without the use of a standing army it administered a
vast region, out of which provinces and territories have since been
carved.
The “Company of Adventurers” has now become a fifteen million
dollar corporation, paying regularly five per cent. on ten million
dollars’ worth of preferred stock. A fleet of river, lake, and ocean
steamers has succeeded the Nonsuch. The early trading posts,
stocked with crude tools, weapons, and ornaments for the Indians,
have been supplemented by a chain of eleven department stores,
extending from Winnipeg to Vancouver, and at the same time the
number of trading posts exchanging goods for furs is greater than
ever. There are about two hundred of these posts, eighteen of which
are near or north of the arctic circle. The Company no longer actually
governs any territory, and it is selling to settlers the remainder of the
seven million acres in the fertile belt it has received from the
Dominion since the surrender of its ancient rights in the Northwest.
The story of the Hudson’s Bay Company is a large part of the
history of Canada. Many books have been written about it, and
countless romances built upon the lives of its men stationed in the
wilds. Here at Winnipeg the company has an historical exhibit where
one may visualize the life of the trappers and the traders, and gain
an idea of the adventures that are still commonplaces in their day’s
work. The company museum contains specimen skins of every kind
of Canadian fur-bearing animal. The life of the Indians and the
Eskimos is reproduced through the exhibits of their tools, boats,
weapons, and housekeeping equipment.
The success of the Hudson’s Bay Company has rested upon its
relations with the Indians. The organization is proud of the fact that it
has never engaged in wars with the tribes. The business has always
been on a voluntary basis, and the Indians have to come to the
Company posts of their own free will. At first the traders’ stocks were
limited, but through centuries of contact with civilization the wants of
the red man have increased and become more varied. They now
include nearly everything that a white man would wish if he were
living in the woods.
The first skins brought in from Hudson Bay were practically all
beavers. This led to the exchange being based on the value of a
single beaver skin, or “made beaver.” Sticks, quills, or brass tokens
were used, each designating a “made beaver,” or a fraction thereof.
The prices of a pound of powder, a gun, or a quart of glass beads
were reckoned in “made beaver.”
Early in its history the Company decided that Scotchmen made
the best traders and were most successful in dealing with the
Indians. Young Scotchmen were usually apprenticed as clerks on
five-year contracts, and if successful they might hope to become
traders, chief traders, factors, and chief factors. Men in these grades
were considered officers of the company and received commissions.
Mechanics and men engaged in the transport service were known as
“servants” of the company, and the distinction between “servants,”
clerks, and officers was almost as marked as in the various military
ranks of an army. To-day, Canada is divided into eleven districts,
each of which is in charge of a manager, and the old titles are no
longer used.
A trader had to be a diplomat to preserve friendly relations with
the Indians, an administrator to manage the Company’s valuable
properties in his charge, a shrewd bargainer to dispose of his stock
on good terms, and at times soldier and explorer besides. The
Company’s charter authorized it to apply the laws of England in the
territories under its jurisdiction, and its agents frequently had to
administer justice with a stern hand. It early became the inflexible
policy to seek out a horse thief, incendiary, or murderer among the
Indians and impose punishment, and it was the trader who had to
catch his man and sometimes to execute him.
It was the activities of its rivals, and especially of the Northwest
Company, that resulted in the establishment of the inland stations of
the Hudson’s Bay Company. As long as it had a monopoly, the
Company was content to set up posts at points convenient for itself,
and let the Indians do all the travelling, sometimes making them go
as much as one thousand miles to dispose of their furs. The
opposition, however, carried goods to the Indians, and thus
penetrated to the far Northwest and the Mackenzie River country.
This competition compelled the older organization to extend its posts
all over Canada, and finally, in 1821, led to its absorption of the
Northwest Company. To-day the chief competitor of the Hudson’s
Bay Company is the French firm of Revillon Frères.
The merger with the Northwest Company was preceded by
years of violent struggle. The younger concern was the more
aggressive. It tried to keep the Indians from selling furs to the
Hudson’s Bay traders. Its men destroyed the traps and fish nets, and
stole the weapons, ammunition, and furs of their rivals. Neither was
above almost any method of tricking the other if thereby furs might
be gained. Once some Hudson’s Bay men discovered the tracks of
Indians returning from a hunt. They at once gave a great ball, inviting
the men of the near by post of the rival company. While they plied
their guests with all forms of entertainment, a small party packed four
sledges with trade goods and stole off to the Indian camp. The next
day the Northwest men heard of the arrival of the Indians and went
to them to barter for furs, only to find that all had been sold to the
Hudson’s Bay traders. At another time two rival groups of traders
met en route to an Indian camp and decided to make a night of it.
But the Northwest men kept sober, and, when the Hudson’s Bay
men were full of liquor, tied them to their sleds and started their dog
teams back on the trail over which they had come. The Northwest
traders then went on to the Indians and secured all the furs.
The Hudson’s Bay Company sends all of its raw skins to London,
where they are graded and prepared for the auction sales attended
by fur buyers from all over the world. It does not sell any in Canada.
Nevertheless, the Dominion is an important fur-making centre.
During a recent visit to Quebec, I spent a morning with the manager
of a firm which handles millions of dollars’ worth of furs every year. It
has its own workshops where the skins are cured and the furs
dressed and made into garments. The name of this firm is Holt,
Renfrew and Company. Let us go back to Quebec and pay it a visit.
Imagine a quarter of a million dollars’ worth of furs under one
roof! Picture to your minds raw skins in bales, just as they were
unloaded from an Indian canoe, and then look again and see wraps
and coats made from them that would each bring five thousand
dollars when sold on Fifth Avenue. If your imagination is vivid
enough you may see the American beauties who will wear them and
know how the furs will add to the sparkle of their eyes and at the
same time lighten the purses of their sweethearts and husbands.
We shall first go to the cold storage rooms. Here are piles of
sealskins from our Pribilof Islands. Put one of these furs against your
cheek. It feels like velvet. In these rooms are beavers from Labrador,
sables from Russia, and squirrels from Siberia. There are scores of
fox skins—blue, silver, black, and white. Some of them come from
the cold arctic regions and others from fox farms not twenty minutes
distant by motor. Take a look at this cloak of silvery gray fur. A year
ago the skins from which it was made were on the backs of hair
seals swimming in the mouth of the St. Lawrence River.
As we go through the factory, some of the secrets of fur making
are whispered to us. For example, this bale contains fifteen hundred
skins of the muskrat. The animals which produced them will change
their names after a trip to the dyers. They will go into the vats and
when they come out they will be Hudson Bay seals, and eventually
will find their way into a black coat with a wonderful sheen. Years
ago the muskrat skin was despised. Now it is made into coats that,
under the trade name of Hudson seal, bring nearly as much as those
of real seal.
Here are two Russian sables, little fellows of beautiful fur, that
together will form a single neck piece. The undressed skins are
worth seven hundred dollars the pair. As we look, the manager
shows us two native sables that seem to be quite as fine. He tells us
they can be had for eighty-five dollars each, or less than a quarter of
the price of the Russian.
The most valuable fur in the world to-day is the sea otter, of
which this firm gets only three or four skins in a year. But, in contrast,
over there is a whole heap of Labrador otters, beautiful furs, which
will wear almost for ever and will look almost as well as the sea otter
itself. But you can have your choice of these at forty dollars apiece.
They are cheap chiefly because the Labrador skin is not in fashion
with women. Fashion in furs is constantly changing. Not many years
ago a black fox skin often brought as much as fifteen hundred
dollars. To-day, so many are coming from the fur farms that the price
has fallen to one hundred and fifty dollars. Scarcity is one of the chief
considerations in determining the value of furs, and fashion always
counts more than utility. The rich, like the kings of old, demand
something that the poor cannot have, and lose their interest in the
genuine furs when their imitations have become common and cheap.
The dyer and his art have greatly changed the fur trade. It is he
who enables the salesgirl to wear furs that look like those of her
customers. For example, here is a coat made of the best beaver. Its
price is four hundred dollars, and beside it is another made of dyed
rabbit fur, marked one hundred and fifty dollars. It is hard for a novice
to tell which is the better. All sorts of new names have been devised
by the furriers to popularize dyed skins of humble animals, from
house cats to skunks, in order to increase the supply of good-looking
and durable furs. Reliable dealers will tell you just what their
garments are made of, but the unscrupulous pass off the imitations
as the genuine article.
The business of dyeing furs was developed first in Germany,
when that country led the world in making dyes. Now that New York
is competing with London as a great fur market many of the best
German dyers are at work there. From the standpoint of the
consumer, the chief objection to dyed fur is that the natural never
fades, while the dyed one is almost certain to change its hue after a
time.
Now let us go into the rooms where the furs are made up. It is
like a tailor shop. Here is a designer, evolving new patterns out of big
sheets of paper. There are the cutters, making trimmings, stoles,
neck pieces, and coats. Each must be a colour expert, for a large
part of the secret of fashioning a beautiful fur garment is in the skillful
matching of the varying shades to give pleasing effects. Were the
skins for a coat sewn together just as they come from the bale, the
garment resulting would be a weird-looking patchwork. Even before
the skins are selected, they must be graded for the colours and
shadings which go far to determine their value. There are no rules
for this work; it takes a natural aptitude and long experience. In the
London warehouse of the Hudson’s Bay Company, the men of a
single family have superintended the grading of all the millions of
skins handled there for more than one hundred years.
Turn over this unfinished beaver coat lying on the bench and
look at the wrong side. See how small are the pieces of which it is
made and how irregular are their shapes. It is a mass of little
patches, yet the outer, or right side, looks as though it were made of
large skins, all of about the same size and shape. A coat of muskrat,
transformed by dyeing into Hudson seal, may require seventy-five
skins; a moleskin coat may contain six hundred. But in making up
either garment each skin must be cut into a number of pieces and
fitted to others in order to get the blending of light and dark shades
which means beauty and quality.
The Eskimo woman and her children wear as
every-day necessities furs which if made into more
fashionable garments would bring large sums. Usually
the whole family goes on the annual trip to the trading
post.
As Saskatchewan was not made a province until
1904, Regina is one of the youngest capital cities in
Canada. It was for many years the headquarters of
the Mounted Police for all the Northwest.
CHAPTER XXIII
SASKATCHEWAN
We have left Winnipeg and are now travelling across the great
Canadian prairie, which stretches westward to the Rockies for a
distance of eight hundred miles. This land, much of which in summer
is in vast fields of golden grain, is now bare and brown, extending on
and on in rolling treeless plains as far as our eyes can reach. Most of
it is cut up into sections a mile square, divided by highway spaces
one hundred feet wide. However, an automobile or wagon can go
almost anywhere on the prairie, and everyone makes his own road.
Sixty miles west of Winnipeg we pass Portage la Prairie, near
where John Sanderson, the man who filed the first homestead on the
prairies, is still living. This part of the Dominion was then inhabited by
Indians, and its only roads were the buffalo trails made by the great
herds that roamed the country. To-day it is dotted with the
comfortable homes of prosperous farmers, and the transcontinental
railways have brought it within a few days’ travel of the Atlantic and
the Pacific seaboards.
A hundred and fifty miles farther west we cross the boundary into
Saskatchewan, the greatest wheat province of the Dominion. It has
an area larger than that of any European country except Russia, and
is as large as France, Belgium, and Holland combined. From the
United States boundary, rolling grain lands extend northward through
more than one third of its area. The remainder is mostly forest,
thinning out toward Reindeer Lake and Lake Athabaska at the north,
and inhabited chiefly by deer, elk, moose, and black bear. There are
saw-mills at work throughout the central part of the province, and the
annual lumber cut is worth in the neighbourhood of two million
dollars.
Except at the southwest, Saskatchewan is well watered. The
Saskatchewan River, which has many branches, drains the southern
and central sections. This stream in the early days was a canoe
route to the Rockies. For a long time afterward, when the only
railway was the Canadian Pacific line in the southern part of the
province, the river was the highway of commerce for the north. It was
used largely by settlers who floated their belongings down it to the
homesteads they had taken up on its banks. Now the steamboats
that plied there have almost entirely disappeared. The northern part
of the province is made up of lakes and rivers so numerous that
some of them have not yet been named. The southwest is a strip of
semi-arid land that has been brought under cultivation by irrigation
and now raises large crops of alfalfa.
A small part of southwestern Saskatchewan, near the Alberta
boundary, is adapted for cattle and sheep raising. The Chinook
winds from the Pacific keep the winters mild and the snowfall light,
so that live stock may graze in the open all the year round.
Elsewhere the winters are extremely cold. The ground is frozen dry
and hard, the lakes and streams are covered with ice, and the
average elevation of about fifteen hundred feet above sea level
makes the air dry and crisp. The people do not seem to mind the
cold. I have seen children playing out-of-doors when it was twenty-
five degrees below zero. The summers are hot, and the long days of
sunshine are just right for wheat growing.
After travelling fourteen or fifteen hours from Winnipeg, we are in
Regina, the capital of Saskatchewan, on the main line of the
Canadian Pacific, about midway between Winnipeg and the Rockies.
I visited it first in 1905, when the province was less than a year old.
Until that time all the land between Manitoba and British Columbia,
from the United States to the Arctic Ocean, belonged to the
Northwest Territories. It had minor subdivisions, but the country as a
whole was governed by territorial officials with headquarters at
Regina. As the flood of immigrants began to spread over the West,
the people of the wheat belt decided that they wanted more than a
territorial government and so brought the matter before the Canadian
parliament. As a result the great inland provinces of Saskatchewan
and Alberta were formed. They are the only provinces in the
Dominion that do not border on the sea.
Regina was then a town of ragged houses, ungainly buildings,
and wide streets with board sidewalks reaching far out into the
country. One of the streets was two miles long, extending across the
prairie to the mounted police barracks and the government house.
Regina was the headquarters of the Northwest Mounted Police until
that organization was amalgamated with the dominion force as the
Royal Canadian Mounted Police, and the city is still a training camp
for recruits. Saskatchewan was not then old enough to have a state
house, and the government offices were in rooms on the second
floors of various buildings. Most of the provincial business was done
in a little brick structure above the Bank of Commerce.
The hotels of the town were then packed to overflowing, even in
winter, and in the spring and summer it was not uncommon to find
the halls filled with cots. I had to sleep in a room with two beds, and
with a companion who snored so that he shook the door open night
after night. It was of no use to complain, as the landlord could tell
one to go elsewhere, knowing very well that there was no elsewhere
but outdoors.
To-day Regina is ten times as large as it was twenty years ago. It
is a modern city with up-to-date hotels, ten banks, handsome
parliament buildings, and twelve railway lines radiating in every
direction. It is the largest manufacturing centre between Winnipeg
and Calgary, and an important distributing point for farm implements
and supplies.
The dome of the capitol building, which was completed in 1911,
can now be seen from miles away on the prairie. This is an imposing
structure five hundred and forty-two feet long, situated in the midst of
a beautiful park on the banks of an artificial lake made by draining
Wascana Creek. The city has many other parks, and the residence
streets are lined with young trees, planted within the last twenty
years. Forty miles to the east is a government farm at Indian Head,
where experiments are made in growing and testing trees suited to
the prairies. Fifty million seedlings have been distributed in one year
among the farms and towns. Out in the country the trees are planted
as windbreaks and to provide the farmers with fuel. They have
greatly changed the aspect of the prairies within the last two
decades.
The grain lands of western Canada begin in
Manitoba in the fertile Red River valley, which is world
famous for the fine quality of its wheat. From here to
the Rockies is a prairie sea, with farmsteads for
islands.
American windmills tower over Saskatchewan
prairie lands that were largely settled by American
farmers. The province is still so thinly populated that it
has only five people to every ten square miles.
The wheat harvest, like time and tide, waits for no
man and when the crop is ready it must be promptly
cut. The grain is usually threshed in the fields and
sent at once to the nearest elevator.
While in Regina I have had a talk with the governor-general of
Saskatchewan in his big two-story mansion that twenty years ago
seemed to be situated in the middle of the prairie. When I motored
out to visit His Excellency, although I was wrapped in buffalo robes
and wore a coon-skin coat and coon-skin cap, I was almost frozen,
and when I entered the mansion it was like jumping from winter into
the lap of summer. At one end of the house is a conservatory, where
the flowers bloom all the time, although Jack Frost has bitten off all
other vegetation with the “forty-degrees-below-zero teeth” he uses in
this latitude.
From Regina, the main line of the Canadian Pacific Railway runs
west to Calgary. Were we to travel by that route, we should pass
through Moose Jaw and Swift Current, two important commercial
centres for the wheat lands. The story is told that Lord Dunsmore, a
pioneer settler, once mended the wheel of his prairie cart with the
jaw bone of a moose on the site of the former city, and thus gave the
place its name. Moose Jaw is a live stock as well as a wheat
shipping point. It has the largest stock yards west of Winnipeg. An
extensive dairying industry has grown up in that region.
North of Regina are Prince Albert and Battleford, noted for their
fur trade and lumber mills, and also Saskatoon, the second largest
city of the province, which we shall visit on our way to Edmonton. At
Saskatoon is the University of Saskatchewan, which was patterned
largely after the University of Chicago. It has the right to a Rhodes
scholarship; and its departments include all the arts and sciences.
As sixty per cent. of the people are dependent upon agriculture,
farm courses receive much attention. A thousand-acre experimental
farm is owned by the university and the engineering courses include
the designing and operation of farm machinery. Even the elementary
schools are interested in agriculture, a campaign having been
carried on recently to eradicate gophers, which destroy the wheat.
The children killed two million of these little animals in one year,
thereby saving, it is estimated, a million bushels of grain. A
department of ceramics has been organized at the university to
experiment with the extensive clay deposits of the province, the
various grades of which are suited for building brick, tile, pottery, and
china. Saskatchewan’s only other mineral of any importance is lignite
coal, although natural gas has been discovered at Swift Current.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE WORLD’S LARGEST WHEATFIELD
For the past two weeks I have been travelling through lands that
produce ninety per cent. of Canada’s most valuable asset—wheat.
The Dominion is the second greatest wheat country in the world,
ranking next to the United States. It is the granary of the British
Empire, raising annually twice as much wheat as Australia and fifty
million bushels more than India. The wheat crop is increasing and
Canada may some day lead the world in its production. These
prairies contain what is probably the most extensive unbroken area
of grain land on earth. In fact, so much wheat is planted in some
regions that it forms an almost continuous field reaching for
hundreds of miles. The soil is a rich black loam that produces easily
twenty bushels to an acre, and often forty and fifty.
The Canadian wheat belt extends from the Red River valley of
Manitoba to the foothills of the Rockies, and from Minnesota and
North Dakota northward for a distance greater than from
Philadelphia to Pittsburgh. New wheat lands are constantly being
opened, and large crops are now grown in the Peace River country,
three hundred miles north of Edmonton.
A man who is an authority on wheat raising tells me that the
possible acreage in the Canadian West is enormous. Says he:
“We have something like three hundred and twenty thousand
square miles of wheat lands. Divide this in two, setting half aside for
poor soil and mixed farming, and there is left more than one
hundred-thousand square miles. In round numbers, it is one hundred
million acres, and the probability is that it can raise an average of
twenty-five bushels to the acre. This gives us a possible crop of

The Politicization of Social Divisions in Post War Poland Piotr Borowiec Full Chapter

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The Politicization of Social Divisions in

Post-War Poland Piotr Borowiec

ISBN 978-3-031-26529-7 ISBN 978-3-031-26530-3 (eBook)

Cover illustration: Marina Lohrbach_shutterstock.com

Many people contributed to my writing of this book, including my

Kraków, Poland Piotr Borowiec

CBOS Centrum Badania Opinii Społecznej —Centre for Public Opinion

Two observations formed the basis of my interest in the formation and

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature 1

He divided politicians into those who reportedly cause divisions due to

superiority−inferiority (Domański, 2002, p. 9). The introduction of their

ideologies and the accepted vision of social justice. To put it as simply as

social divisions and the practices of repartition recreating them. These

Grabowska, M. (2021). The Post-communist Cleavage. Social Bases of Politics in

Obacz, P. (2018). Podział „Polska solidarna - Polska liberalna” w świetle

The First Structural Experiment:

Ideological and Political Reasons

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature 11

events. The war destroyed an order that was characterised by wrongs

and Tatars. Social differentiation was the highest among Poles. It is

losses also translated into a transformation of the religious structure, with

“memories” of the previous social system were considered a threat and,

Egalitarian order was supported by selected resources of social memory

enforced rules of living by individuals). The negative consequences were

for starting the mechanism of change at their disposal. The authori-

wastage (Leszczyński, 2013), as well as pushing the private property to

National Unity as an Instrument

and inequalities, including the question of where the causes of society’s

increasing their strength. Another reason was the impossibility of verifying

themselves to reminding them, but carried out intensive manipulation.

and were not always accompanied by the enthusiasm expected. Therefore,

were deprived of it from the top-down. To this end, the concept of

Organisational unity was an important value in Poland after 1945. It

actions became a part of the process of the communists taking root in

The authorities assigned negative characteristics and condemnable moral

All of these people were an obstacle to the economy of socialism and

sustaining national identity in a part of society. It also constituted an

enterprises and 2,252 commercial enterprises were nationalised (Anasz &

of pre-war Poland worked in agriculture, and the remaining 39.4% in

land amounted to 7–15 ha (Kołomejczyk & Syzdek, 1971; Słabek, 1972).

land assigned did not guarantee adequate income or standard of living.

production efficiency into the agricultural structure, but retained private

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