Poland: Its Transformation from Communism to Capitalism

This past summer I studied at Jagiellonian University in Kraków, Poland. It was founded in 1364 by King Casimir III and is the oldest university in Poland, the second oldest in Central Europe, and one of the oldest surviving universities in the world. But as soon as I arrived at my dormitory, a firm sense of consternation took hold of me. The dormitory was a Soviet bloc-style building that had been converted into a hotel, affectionately dubbed “Piast” after an important dynasty in Poland’s history. Despair reigned in the building. Its concrete prevented WiFi from reaching past the lobby, the laundry machines and ovens did not work, and the concierge could offer little to improve the situation. The dining service was extremely limited and lackluster, and the Biedronka (convenience mart) next to the hotel was underwhelming. I immediately realized that I was in the middle of a post-Soviet experience, witnessing some lingering effects of the communist ideology.

The dormitory was a far cry, however, from Kraków’s Stare Miasto (Old Town). There I was filled with awe. Gothic architecture, enthusiastic street performers, and an abundant selection of pubs and restaurants made Kraków proper feel lively and welcoming. A couple of streets over, Jagiellonian University’s brick buildings, some of which have existed for centuries, stood as a testament to traditional Polish culture. The laughter of young adults filled the air wherever I went, and a preponderance of stores catered to one’s every need. The sights, sounds, and smells of Kraków almost made me forget the horrors that Poland experienced during the twentieth century.

The dichotomy between these two areas of Kraków highlights a tension in Polish society: the reconciliation of a communist past with a capitalist future. Communism has undoubtedly left an indelible mark on Poland, and many Poles view their country as the foremost victim of modernity, due to their country’s experiences of Soviet rule, Nazi rule, and the destruction of World War II. The cheap concrete apartment buildings built during the more than four decades of communist rule dot the city’s outskirts. The interiors are often painted bright colors, or plastered with tacky wallpaper, in an attempt to humanize the monolithic and inorganic structures. As a Westerner, I found these buildings both an affront to my sense of beauty and a reminder of the damage that communism did to whatever it touched. One needs only to look to Nowa Huta, a district of Kraków that was largely made into a Socialist Realist architectural dystopia, to recognize how devoid of humanity certain ideologies can be, and how awe-inspiring traditional Polish culture really is.

Poland has certainly been making strides in eschewing its dark past and emerging as a strong force in Europe. Historically it has been a regional power, but the past 20 years have brought a global level of development and sophistication, especially in economic terms. Many eateries in Kraków often put up signs saying they have run out of food halfway through lunch time. While this may suggest a problem of a Soviet-style planned economy, it is also indicative of a demand that continuously outpaces supply. Poland is growing on all fronts, and anyone with the ability to seize this opportunity benefits from its free-market policies. Its strong sense of nationalism also drives forward an international competitiveness.

This pride in the nation is rooted in both Poland’s historic achievements and its successful rejection of communism, most notably through the Solidarność (Solidarity) movement. This love of country is not merely latent in Poland; it is active and clearly visible. I was present in the Stare Miasto on August 1 at 5 p.m., when hundreds of Poles gathered in silence as the most patriotic among them popped red flares and played a siren in commemoration of the start of the doomed 1944 Warsaw Uprising against the occupying Germans. This sight profoundly affected me as I realized how devoted people could be to their country.

At the same time, many Poles share the fear that too much political correctness has been imported from the West, both through foreign students at universities and through Poland’s increased involvement in European affairs and/or increased European Union involvement in Poland’s (and other nations’) affairs. Poland is wary of any possible regression toward any policy that seems related to communism. This tendency has elicited many unfair judgments by people in the West, but has also led to a strengthening of Polish-American relations. Many Poles seem to love President Trump, primarily for his rejection of socialism, and they speak ill of him only when they hear the English word “Russia” uttered alongside his name.

Regardless, Poland’s new post-communist future appears to be much more promising than its experience under Soviet “leadership.” One day, I will return to the country and witness again its stunning transformation from communism to freedom and democracy. Until then, I offer a toast to Poland and its people: Na zdrowie!

The Federalist and their Vision of American Exceptionalism

The Constitution is the bulwark of the American experiment. The Federalist Papers encouraged Americans to ratify it, a decision that Alexander Hamilton suggests at the beginning of the first essay will do much to determine whether “societies of men are really capable or not of establishing good government from reflection and choice, or [are] forever destined to depend for their political constitutions on accident and force.” Publius (Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay) argues that America finds itself at a crossroads in history. If the states are able to surmount the problem of factionalism and establish a strong union, then the Constitution and the pro-Constitution vanguard, including the authors and their colleagues, will help to bring about a new political age. In Federalist numbers 10 and 11, Madison and Hamilton envision something like a fall of European triumphalism and a rise of American exceptionalism.

Madison in #10 discusses the causes of factions and the threat they pose to popular government—to democratic republics, which the United States would be. Since previous pure democracies have disintegrated into majoritarian tyrannies, he says that controlling the effects of factions, a potential cause of majority tyranny, is the only way to preserve a system of self-government. Contrary to the French political philosopher Montesquieu, he contends that a republic is more likely to survive in a large territory than a small one. The multiplicity of factions in an extended (meaning extensive) republic, he argues, serves to prevent the rise of a tyrannical majority faction to power.

To destroy liberty would be “a remedy that is worse than the disease” of faction, and it is “impracticable” to give all people the same opinions and interests. Madison therefore addresses another question: the difficulty of convincing a majority faction “to sacrifice its ruling passion or interest [for] both the public good and the rights of other citizens.” He asserts that it seems “neither moral nor religious motives can be relied on as an adequate control,” because historically, pure democracies—democracies consisting of a small number of citizens, who decided public affairs in person—“have in general been as short in their lives as they have been violent in their deaths.” 

A large republic, which the United States would be, would amplify the benefits of representative government (rather than direct rule by the people) because of its extended sphere of operations—because, in other words, of its greater size. Electing representatives in a relatively sizeable nation would tend “to refine and enlarge the public views by passing them through the medium of a chosen body,” those who are elected. In contrast, such refinement and enlargement would happen less in a smaller society, since it is likely that “men of factious tempers” and other dangerous dispositions would “first obtain the suffrages [votes] and then betray the interest of the people.” Another advantage of a wider arena—an extended “sphere,” a large rather than small nation or society—is that it would be “less probable that a majority of the whole will have a common motive [and ability] to invade the rights of other citizens.” Madison sees a direct positive correlation between the two key points of difference that distinguish a republic from a strictly defined democracy. By stressing the problem of faction, he inverts Montesquieu’s argument, saying that republics will actually survive best in a large territory.

After Madison addresses the problem of conflict at home in Federalist 10, Hamilton tackles threats from abroad in Federalist 11. A strong union, he insists, will foster commercial prosperity and national security. Hamilton envisions a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. He understands the fragility of the United States at this dangerous moment and explains how the proposed Constitution will address the problem.

The strength of a real American union, Hamilton says, would not only subdue European jealousy and reduce its dangers, but also secure for the nation a central position on the world stage. As things are now, without a real union among the states, foreign powers with interests in the Americas have the incentive and means to “foster division among” the states and would proceed with “clipping the wings by which [they] might soar to a dangerous greatness.” Furthermore, Hamilton argues, a disunited America would decline toward a “PASSIVE COMMERCE,” since a nation, when made “despicable by its weakness, forfeits even the privilege of being neutral.” He uses the example of an embargo on Great Britain to show how a relatively large and united nation, rather than a league of 13 states as under the current Articles of Confederation, can extract the best trade deals from a foreign nation and influence the conduct of other countries. The addition of an “opportunely” deployed navy, he points out, would swing pivotal campaigns in the Atlantic in America’s favor and make the U.S. the “arbiter of Europe” in the New World.

According to Hamilton, a United States of America could both avoid Europe’s hegemony and “vindicate the honor of the human race.” With the aid of “wisdom,” her advantages in enterprise and geography would enable her to “make herself the admiration and envy of the world.” Due to the “genius of the American merchants and navigators” and to the securing, by the creation of a real union, of greatly important fisheries and navigational rights, the new nation could enjoy a prosperous “ACTIVE COMMERCE.” Hamilton asserts that Europe has maintained dominion over the world for far too long and has been “tempted … to consider the rest of mankind as created for her benefit.” By emphasizing that “Disunion will add another victim,” America, “to [Europe’s] triumphs,” Hamilton suggests the full weight of the American experiment.

Madison and Hamilton convey the prophetic. Their vision for the United States juxtaposes Jay’s warning in Federalist 2 against disunion—against the states as mutually “unsocial, jealous, and alien sovereignties”—with an invitation. The essay ends with a warning that a disunited America would be forced to “exclaim” the famous lament in Shakespeare: “FAREWELL! A LONG FAREWELL, TO ALL MY GREATNESS.” And the reader of the Federalist Papers may think that if its citizens, through their elected representatives in the state ratifying conventions, instead approve the Constitution, America will have reason to exclaim: “Greetings! A Joyous Greetings to All of Humanity’s Greatness!”

Amazon Ablaze: What's Going on in the World's Largest Rain Forest?

The world’s largest tropical rain forest, the Amazon, has seen a devastating rise in man-made fires since January. Most of these fires are being legally set by farmers as a precursor to planting, as the dry season in the Amazon, in which fires could be set to prepare the land, runs from April to September. However, many are being started illegally by land grabbers, expanding their lands by clearing protected areas of the rain forest for profit. A significant portion of the fires is in savanna areas of the Amazon, where tree coverage is scarcer. The fires are now threatening the region’s more biodiverse sections, which not only are home to around 40,000 plant species and 430 types of mammals, but also absorb about two billion tons of carbon dioxide per year (roughly five percent of the planet’s total annual emissions). With the increasing threat that climate change poses to the Earth and future generations, it’s pivotal to critically and holistically assess the environmental crisis currently affecting the Amazon, and what it means in the grand scheme of our future.

The Amazon extends across Brazil, Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador, Colombia, Venezuela, Suriname, Guyana, and French Guiana; but Brazil accounts for about 60 percent of the total region. The data presented in this article and in most media coverage of the Amazon fires refer to Brazil’s portion. The Brazilian space agency reports that there have been 43,421 fires from January through August, a 57 percent jump from the average number (27,665) occurring in those months over the past five years. It also reports that from January to July alone, about 4,700 kilometers of rain forest were cleared, 67 percent more than last year. Scientists estimate that about 18 percent of the original forest is gone, and warn that it can’t lose too much more cover before drying out and becoming a savanna. The Amazon recycles moisture from nearby oceans which then evaporates into the air, causing rainfall. Therefore, if it loses too much tree coverage, dry periods will last longer and the forest will be more prone to wildfires, which could produce even more devastating deforestation. 

The city of São Paulo was covered in smoke on August 21 as blackened skies darkened the city two hours earlier than usual, and researchers said the forest fires more than 2,000 miles away were partly to blame. Hospitals in Amazonian cities have reported an increase in respiratory problems as well. Outraged Brazilian citizens posted photos on social media of the skies and neighboring fires, and celebrities and the media were quick to pick up the story. Norway and Germany have halted their aid to the Amazon Fund due to increasing tension between Brazil and the European Union due to the fires and Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro’s budget cuts to IBAMA, the government’s environmental protection and natural resources agency.

Climate change activists and other citizens were in disbelief at the initial lack of coverage of the fires. And the media’s later awakening seemed to involve mostly the political implications of Bolsonaro’s environmental policies rather than a more complete reporting of the situation and its history.

President Bolsonaro took office last January, ending the Workers’ Party’s 13-year governance from 2003 to 2016 (a successor to the impeached Workers’ Party president held office from 2018 to 2019). He has championed controversial right-wing policies and has been called “the Trump of the Tropics” by the media in the United States. They are in no way favorable toward a Latin American Trump, and that may help to explain the amount of inaccurate and biased reporting on the Amazon fires this year in the U.S. media, including numerous reports with false and incomplete data and photographs of fires from years ago, in many instances not even fires in the Amazon. For comparison, in 2010, during the last year of leftist President Lula da Silva’s 8-year term, researchers reported a 261 percent increase in the number of fires year-on-year to a peak of 109,940 fires. The media coverage of those fires was scarce, as most Brazilians and much of international opinion favored Lula’s presidency. 

Bolsonaro should be held accountable for lack of action against illegal loggers, budget cuts to environmental agencies protecting the Amazon, and his government’s general encouragement of expanding economic activity in the Amazon to improve the country’s economy. While a portion of the Amazon can (and arguably should) be used to promote economic activity in the region’s cities, which are among the poorest in Brazil, this should be done in an amount which still allows the rain forest to regrow at a natural rate. However, the media and readers or viewers have a responsibility to report data accurately and to propose solutions that would combat the forest fire crisis, rather than focus on the demonization of a disliked political figure.

Democratic Theory at the AHI

Hamilton College, believe it or not, isn’t the only institution of higher education in Clinton—which at one time was nicknamed Schooltown, and for more reasons than the college. An important part of the Alexander Hamilton Institute’s activity is little-known on the Hill: classes that are open to the public. 

How does democracy work best, and what do its great principles mean? Our current continuing education course at the AHI, “Majority Rule and Equality: The Challenges of Democracy in American History,” covers these questions. About 50 people from nearby communities attend, and comparable numbers have enrolled in our other recent classes on “Liberty: The History of an Idea,” government and science, the career and principles of Abraham Lincoln, the Roosevelt and Reagan presidencies, the process and strategies of presidential elections, the culture and politics of the 1960s, and the roots of America’s “red/blue” divide. 

For an instructor, designing a class is one especially interesting part of teaching. Certainly it’s always interesting for me. There are so many possible sources to choose from. Next, within those books or articles, there tend to be many different discussions worth selecting as part of our necessarily limited number of assigned pages. Which are most central or valuable? There’s also the lesser but still significant task of organizing the syllabus. For this class, I came up with six themes: Majority Rule, Equality and Participation, Political Diversity and Conflict, Accountability, Self-Interest and Public Virtue, and Democracy and Leadership. All to be read about, lectured about, discussed in just thirteen weeks plus an introductory session.

Each of these terms obviously calls for rigorous attempts at definition. “Majority” is perhaps the easiest to define, but even that isn’t necessarily simple. The meaning of “Rule” is more difficult, since in any genuinely democratic context, we mean something other than raw power. And the meaning of “Equality” is likely even more complicated. The readings are chosen for their informational value plus their ability to help us better understand the meanings and implications of the course’s topics. We’re also thinking—without making rigid assumptions or reaching firm conclusions—about how both “Challenges” cited in the course title are affected by the course’s several themes. I noted on the first evening that the word “Challenges” is meant as a gentler word for “problems”—adding that problems aren’t necessarily bad, since the word can simply mean alternatives that we must weigh. (As the wise political commentator James Burnham used to remind colleagues at his magazine, National Review: “If there’s no alternative, there’s no problem.”) Then too, so many modifiers can be attached to the term “Democracy.” As one of our readings notes, there are or have been, among other types: “ancient democracy,” “Christian democracy” as in certain nations’ Christian Democratic parties, “competitive elite democracy,” “deliberative democracy,” “direct democracy,” “industrial democracy,” “liberal democracy,” “participatory democracy,” “people’s democracy” (i.e., communism), “pluralist democracy,” “representative democracy,” and “social democracy.” Some of these types are mutually exclusive. And many are not.

There are, of course, substantial conflicts between certain of our readings, as there would be conflicting readings in almost any good class in the social sciences. In an essay titled “Democracy and the Citizen: Community, Dignity, and the Crisis of Contemporary Politics in America,” Wilson Carey McWilliams says the practice of citizenship—of political participation reflecting certain public-spirited attitudes—is more central to democracy, more its “defining quality,” than is mere voting. “Common sense,” he maintains, “tells us that speaking and listening precede voting and give it form. Democracy is inseparable from democratic ways of framing and arguing for political choices. … democracy depends on those things that affect our ability to speak, hear, or be silent. … my notion of democracy includes things not considered ‘political’ by most Americans.” In some contrast to McWilliams, Judith Shklar rejects Aristotle’s definition of democracy, which involved a time-consuming direct participation in ruling. She also questions the role of public-spiritedness or public virtue in the citizen’s political choices. For Shklar, voting as a simple “expression of personal interests and preferences” is just as legitimate, respectable, and democratic as more public-spirited or deliberative voting. 

Conflicts or intellectually stimulating contrasts within a reading can be equally valuable. In an October 7 assignment on our syllabus, Robert Dahl, the late Yale political theorist, sketched an account of American political history wherein various changes since the Jacksonian era (including the prevalence of huge corporations and their undemocratic employment situations, a massive welfare-state bureaucracy, and a massive military establishment) have made true democracy increasingly difficult to actualize or maintain even though, over the same century-plus, more and more Americans were, rightly, included in the right to vote and the nation thus became far more democratic in that sense. Dahl’s essay, written more than 40 years ago, is titled: “On Removing Certain Impediments to Democracy in the United States.” 

Taking all of these impediments to democracy “into account,” Dahl writes, “political theorists need to begin a serious and systematic reexamination of the constitutional system much beyond anything done up to now … serious and systematic attention to possibilities that may initially seem unrealistic, such as abolishing the presidential veto; creating a collegial chief executive; institutionalizing adversary processes in policy decisions; establishing an office of advocacy to represent interests otherwise not adequately represented in or before Congress and the administrative agencies, including future generations; creating randomly selected citizens assemblies … to analyze policy and make recommendations; creating a unicameral Congress; inaugurating proportional representation and a multiparty system in congressional elections; and many other possibilities.” Dahl’s openness and sympathy toward the possibility of radical changes to the U.S. constitution and political system, though, is immediately followed by abundant caution. “Unfortunately,” he adds, “designing a constitution is very far from an exact science. It is questionable whether the best political scientists, or for that matter citizens drawn from any source, have the knowledge and skills to excel the performance of the framers” of our existing constitution. “Probably we do not even know how best to proceed toward the cultivation of the knowledge and skills of constitution making that we or our successors may one day be expected to provide.”

Then there’s equality. Democracy certainly requires equality in the sense of equal political rights. Does it also require more equality than that? It may. Yet as Giovanni Sartori notes in another reading, the laudable pursuit of more-than-political equality can become “a labyrinth” due to the word’s “Janus-like” or two-sided character and the “enormous oscillation” in its meaning. Equality is also inherently, not just circumstantially, difficult. “To have inequality, all that is demanded of us is to let things follow their course. But if we are to seek equality, we can never afford to relax. As Tawney wrote, echoing Rousseau: ‘While inequality is easy since it demands no more than to float with the current, equality is difficult for it involves swimming against it.’” A society “that seeks equality,” Sartori continues, “is a society that fights itself, that fights its inner laws of inertia … Equality symbolizes and spurs man’s revolt against fate and chance, against fortuitous disparity, crystallized privilege, and unjust power. Equality is also, as we shall see, the most insatiable of all our ideals.” 

How democracy was meant to and should work, especially in America, was the theme of a fascinating, often contrarian, always insistently independent political theorist named Willmoore Kendall, who taught at Yale (where he was a dissenting colleague of other political scientists, including Dahl) from the late 1940s into the early 1960s, at which point the administration “bought out” his tenure rights at his exasperated request. Teaching this particular AHI course is helping to sharpen my conceptual preparations for the biography of Kendall I am beginning to write—just as reading him would strengthen the conceptual grasp of any Government major. Kendall was often a disagreeable man, but many of the students thought he was great. He made them, and many readers, really think. He died too young of a heart attack in 1967, at his new academic home, the University of Dallas. Were Kendall alive today, I would be anxious about inviting him to address my AHI class, since he was that kind of guy—and that sharp a mind. But I would be even more interested in our hearing and talking with him.