Explaining Poland's Reappearance, 1918–1921: Induction or Deduction?

Poland regained its independence in 1918, but it was more idea than reality. It was only by several years of additional war and chaos that Poland stabilized as a country. Our authors have radically different explanations of these formative years: How for Jochen Böhler, and why for Andrzej Nowak, did Poland reappear? The authors have profoundly different and irreconcilable responses.For Nowak, the essential question is moral and determinative. Russia was, and still is, an “evil empire.” It has been in a historical conflict with Poland which represents the civilization of the West. Poland is the legendary guardian of the gate, Europe's last knight. It must defend the borders of Europe both for strategic reasons, and to champion good over evil (p. 177.). He saw a civilizational-psychological clash which was not comprisable: the pragmatism of war derived from Romantic faith. Jόzef Piłsudski personified the Polish Romantic notion of “chosen-ness.” Whether it is nonsense or not, does not matter. His federalism was thus the means of solving both strategic and moral problems—a demonstration of the “for your freedom and ours” motto; it was deductionism.Bolshevik Russia was a modernized version of traditional Russian imperialism (Nowak, pp. 148–157). Piłsudski's geostrategy was that the historic Polish borderlands, the multi-national kresy, must be linked to Poland. Failing this, independence would be difficult to achieve and impossible to sustain.Nowak saw the 1918–1920 war as a crucial episode in the West's need to prevent greater Russian domination of the continent. Russian absorption of the east of Europe inevitably meant tyranny and degradation. For him, the moral convictions imbedded in Polish consciousness are the basis for geopolitical tasks: the east is evil; we defend what is good. As Nowak's title boldly argues, it is the recognition of this by Poland—whether the West understood this or not.By contrast, Böhler's approach is based on the argument that the Poles have constructed a mythic history which is based on symbols and legends which do not stand up to dispassionate evaluation. An honest account of 1918–1920 demonstrates that Piłsudski knowingly mis-represented his goals to suggest lofty principles. For Böhler, Piłsudski was simply a “nationalist” with only practical goals. His vision of a restored Commonwealth was a fraudulent disguise for imperialism (p. 144). Denying this is an insincere and manipulative tool. Piłsudski “never foresaw equal treatment for the (restored) federation's members” a sour remark not justified by the evidence (p. 26).1Piłsudski's dominating conclusion was that Poland's eastern borderlands had to be linked with Poland. He endorsed local rule and tolerance reflecting his long devotion to the multi-national Commonwealth's historic republicanism: Poland did not seek empire, but security. Piłsudski's Poland was not imperialist. If the former eastern borderlands of Poland were not combined into a federal relationship, they would be engorged in a Russian empire. If Poland failed in 1919–1920, there would be an aggressive, now communist, empire whose territorial extent could only be imagined. Poland would be doomed. Thus, Russia's defeat in 1920 was the accomplishment of an historic mission (Nowak, p. 34).For Böhler, a Poland-dominated east would inevitably preclude independence in the kresy. But for Belarusians, there was no serious support for an independent state. Nor was there a “united Ukrainian independence movement” (p. 76). Hence, Piłsudski's failed alliance with the Ukrainians under Semyon Petlura was “messing around in the Bolsheviks’ back-yard” (p. 127). Lithuania was an exception—its nationalist movement was expanding—but it would have severe minority problems and be strategically vulnerable. It was either Poland or Russia, there was not a third choice of kresy independence. Böhler does not come to this conclusion.Neither Washington nor London understood the geopolitical implications of these issues and really did not care (Nowak, pp. 75, 101, 104).2 They were functionally pro-Russian: neither supported a free Lithuania, Belarus, or Ukraine. Ending the war, not achieving victory for the good cause, was their guiding principle: Western parochialism at base. In 1920, the West was willing to appease the Russians and this disposition remained characteristic (Nowak, pp. 239–240).Paris and London denounced Polish “imperialism;” Lloyd George called them “monkeys;” sometimes “pygmies.” Wilson found Polish geopolitics incomprehensible. He endorsed independence in vagaries while undermining it in particulars. For him, Russia was important—and profitable, Poland was only an annoyance. A ranking British diplomat summarized policy: for Europe, peace requires a Russian victory, and an end to “Polish imperialism” (Nowak, pp. 270–271). London demanded Polish abandonment of the east (the “Curzon Line”) otherwise, the “Allies could no longer support Poland.” “Communism” was not an important issue, just an unpleasant episode (Nowak, pp. 274–276). Indeed, Wilson bizarrely argued that Bolshevism would disappear if not for “Polish imperialism” which was thus “guilty” (Nowak, pp. 278, 284). London went further and regarded the east of Europe as an obstacle for brisk Russian-British commerce. The very idea that Russia was an imperialist power was not considered (Nowak, pp. 284–285). Western “appeasement” of Russia was already visible.For Nowak, only Poland could “save” the east because the West was not interested in the fringes of Europe. For the western powers Russia was one of the basic elements of Europe while Poland was insignificant, and its Piłsudskiite federalism was simply annoying. Tehran and Yalta were implicit already.Nowak has a vision of a large task, while Böhler emphasizes the “civil war” in the east as an overlapping, concatenation of endlessly appearing and disappearing clashes. Böhler centers cruelty and chaos and inevitably disdains the good vs. bad interpretation of Nowak. Böhler's approach is inductive, Nowak's is deductive.Böhler tries to distinguish the myriad and contradictory motives and rivalries, a campaign of disambiguation. But his effort does not end with a large explanation, which Nowak offers. Böhler's vast evidentiary collection obscures and prevents a larger vision. Given this, he inevitably avoids conclusions. Hence, does Nowak explain history, or over-simplify it; does Böhler became so awash in countless episodes that larger conclusions are precluded?Nowak, convinced that the Poles are right, deals with episodes which reflect poorly on them very compactly and avoids lurid elements. By contrast, Böhler offers an occasional passage about the heroism of the Poles, and the greatness of Piłsudski. However, he immediately, refers to this as “full of distortions and contradictions” (p. 3). He observes that “it was the Polish soldiers only, without assistance from the West, who stopped [the Russian invasion] at the outskirts of Warsaw.” However, he immediately writes that this has a “downside:” his mission is “setting these records straight” (p. 11–12).This goal results in repeated critical evaluations of the Poles. For example, he mentions, more than once, Piłsudski's Legions, but underscores the fact that their specific military actions were unimportant: “they had no significant influence.” All the legionnaires would “have easily fit” into a “football stadium” (Böhler, pp. 44–45). Thus, patriotic praise of the Legions does “not stand up to reality” (p. 133). They have been the object of “mythical depiction” which “conceals the truth.” This simply misses the point. Piłsudski's vision of the legions was the psychological “remilitarization” of Polish society by invoking legendary heroism; they were not to be a military juggernaut.The Polish Army is the object of Böhler's endless criticism. They are bitter, “flawed soldiers” (p. 133). Few of them really supported the war. “Honor” is ridiculed. There are references—with striking obscenities—about them being “murderers,” “thugs,” and “thieves.” We are told that the public scorned the soldiers, and that the Polish government gave the soldiers “nothing in return” for their sacrifices (p. 137). Böhler quotes a passage describing them as “habitual thieves and robbers [. . .] rogues, idealists, adventurers, charlatans, criminals, and shirkers” reflecting “lower instincts, such as sadism” (pp. 183–184).Böhler found an obscure memoir which provides a disgusting portrayal of the Polish soldiers, and quotes from it fourteen times! Had it not been for the distraction of the kresy, the Polish army would have “started to kill each other in Poland's very center” (p. 145). They were alive with mutiny, and “attacked each other, harassed, robbed, violated and even killed civilians” (p. 145). They showed “deplorable morale” and dreadful behavior (p. 158). This was not an exception but “a mass phenomenon”: “abuse, criminality, corruption, and banditry were the order of the day” (p. 158). This is far too much.This reflects Böhler's conclusion that few Poles supported the war; the population was—at best—indifferent (pp. 123, 133, 134, 157). Hence, Polish unity and patriotism is “an exaggeration,” because the “mood of the heartland” was not pro-Polish (pp. 123, 130).3 Böhler admits that many Poles volunteered in the Battle of Warsaw in 1920, reflecting social “solidarity,” but, this is only an episode, not a characteristic of the war. “Most inhabitants” of the vast eastern borderlands, the kresy showed “craving for the return of the old times under imperial Russian administration” or perhaps “a Bolshevik takeover” (p. 129). However, he also notes that the rural population was attracted by the idea of having a larger role in Poland (p. 55). Placing this in the development of chłopomania would have been a good addition. In a striking passage, he concludes that the population of the historic Polish east probably preferred Russian domination to support for Poland!Böhler's approach to the antisemitic wave of the era raises troubling questions. First, he mentions that “more than 50,000 Jews were killed” by Ukrainians, but that is the entire discussion of the greatest pogroms of the era. However, massacres attributable to the Poles are presented across eleven pages (pp. 75, 157), and eight more pages soon afterwards (pp. 177–185)! He reckons total Jewish losses in Poland as “between 500 and 1000” (p. 160); only 1 percent of the killings in Ukraine! The issue of anti-Jewish violence receives attention only when it occurs in Poland. In his defense, since the book is focused on the rebirth of Poland, events in that region would be given primary emphasis, but the volume embraces more than the Poles and since he discusses Ukrainian issues at length this very brief treatment is noteworthy.Another gruesome episode is presented in a way that disparages the Poles: the fate of POWs in the Polish-Russian war. Of the 110,000 Soviet POWs, 16,000–18,000 died in the dreadful conditions of the camps. But Böhler claims that many more (40,000) died in Polish camps (p. 189). This episode has been emphasized by the Russians ever since—who have inflated the number almost 400 percent. Nowak, incidentally, cites this as lasting Russian misrepresentation designed to elevate their moral status at Poland's expense.These volumes are both complimentary and contradictory. Nowak's purpose is the presentation of a large civilizational conflict in sweeping argument. Poland has been right, indeed inspiring, though it has been misunderstood—ignored—by the West. Thus, Polish Romanticism is a collection of myth, moral presumptuousness, and paranoic self-absorption, faith. But this is true. Nowak is the architect of historical context which, incidentally, demonstrates the greatness of Poland.Böhler assembled many archival sources which allows him to craft a complex picture. His gathering of often rare secondary sources in many languages demonstrates his dedication to presenting an informative account of intimidating perplexities. Böhler wanted to avoid clichés and generalities and claimed to rise above propaganda. However, presenting an accurate account is repeatedly burdened by a clear fascination with placing the Poles and their achievements in a damning light.In fine, Böhler provides a cogent and sophisticated presentation of an episode very hard to explain. There were uncountable factors that shaped the re-establishment of Poland. In this task he offers well-researched answers. It is unfortunate that an account requiring dispassionate presentation is often partisan, with the Poles the target. He often attacks things of enormous symbolic importance in modern Polish history. The good vs. evil theory, represented by Nowak, is not rejected, just never mentioned.Nowak's more deductive approach is far-reaching, raising the simple but profound question of the historic clash between Poland and Russia. Thus, we have a great task: is the question unanswerable or is it profoundly simple? Good must oppose evil. “Poland saved Europe” concludes Nowak (p. 142), but it was but an episode. A conclusion which, toutes proportions gardées, is correct. But salvation has profound roots and is not a result of induction from many details. For the Poles—and Europe—the triumph was short-lived. Russia is a lasting threat.The West repeatedly has failed to understand this great European tragedy. It also has convinced the Poles of their right to claim moral grandeur. The recent Russian invasion of Ukraine has finally made this clear.