All this was highly provocative. The Kremlin hated Solidarity. Nothing so dangerous had happened in a Soviet bloc country in more than a decade. Democratically elected delegates from all over Poland were gathering to hold debates and pass resolutions by voting, and the Communist Party had no control whatsoever. It was a national Parliament in all but name. It would have been called revolutionary, if that word had not been besmirched by the Bolsheviks. No wonder the Soviets were frantic.
The sports hall was equipped with an electronic scoreboard. As Lech Wa??sa stood to speak, it lit up with a cross and the Latin slogan Polonia semper fidelis, Poland ever faithful.
Tania went outside to her car and turned on the radio. Programmes were normal all across the dial. The Soviets had not invaded yet.
The rest of Saturday passed without major drama. It was not until Tuesday that Tania began to feel scared again.
The government had published a draft bill on Workers’ Self-Government that gave employees the right to be consulted about management appointments. Tania reflected wryly that President Reagan would never for one minute consider giving such rights to Americans. Even so, the bill was not radical enough for Solidarity, for it stopped short of giving the workforce the power to hire and fire; so they proposed a national referendum on the issue.
Lenin must have turned in his mausoleum.
Worse, they added a clause saying that if the government refused a referendum, the union would organize one itself.
Tania again felt the needle of fear. The union was beginning to play the leadership role normally reserved for the Communist Party. The atheists were taking over the Church. The Soviet Union would never accept this.
The resolution was passed with only one vote against, and the delegates stood and applauded themselves.
But that was not all.
Someone proposed sending a message to workers in Czechoslovakia, Hungary, East Germany, and ‘all the nations of the Soviet Union’. Among other things, it said: ‘We support those among you who have decided on the difficult road of struggle for free trades unions.’ It was passed by a show of hands.
They had gone too far, Tania felt sure.
The Soviets’ worst fear was that the Polish crusade for freedom would spread to other Iron Curtain countries – and the delegates were rashly encouraging just that! The invasion now seemed inevitable.
Next day the press was full of Soviet outrage. Solidarity was interfering in the internal affairs of sovereign states, they screeched.
But still they did not invade.
*
Soviet leader Leonid Brezhnev did not want to invade Poland. He could not afford to lose credit with Western banks. He had a different plan. Cam Dewar found out from Staz what it was.
It always took a few days to process the raw material that Staz produced. Picking up his rolls of film in a dangerous clandestine brush pass was only the beginning. The film had to be developed in the darkroom at the American Embassy, and the documents printed and photocopied. Then a translator with a high-level security clearance sat down and converted the material from Polish and Russian to English. If there were a hundred or more pages – as was frequent – it took days. The result had to be typed up and photocopied, again. Then at last Cam could see what kind of fish he had netted.
As the Warsaw winter freeze set in, Cam pored over the latest batch and found a well worked out and detailed scheme for a clampdown by the Polish government. Martial law would be declared, all freedoms would be suspended, and all agreements made with Solidarity would be reversed.
It was only a contingency plan. But Cam was astonished to learn that Jaruzelski had war-gamed it within a week of taking office. Clearly he had had this in mind right from the start.
And Brezhnev was relentlessly pressing him to go ahead.
Jaruzelski had resisted the pressure earlier in the year. Then, Solidarity had been well positioned to fight back, with workers occupying factories all over the country and preparations well advanced for a general strike.
At that time, Solidarity had prevailed, and the Communists had appeared to yield. But now the workers were off-guard.
They were also hungry, tired, and cold. Everything was scarce, inflation was rampant, and food distribution was sabotaged by Communist bureaucrats who wanted the old days back. Jaruzelski calculated that the people would take only so much hardship before they began to feel that the return of authoritarian government might be a blessing.
Jaruzelski wanted a Soviet invasion. He had sent a message to the Kremlin asking bluntly: ‘Can we count on military assistance from Moscow?’
The reply he received had been equally blunt: ‘No troops will be sent.’
This was good news for Poland, Cam reflected. The Soviets might bully and bluster, but they were not willing to take the ultimate step. Whatever happened, it would be done by Polish people.
However, Jaruzelski might yet clamp down, even without the back-up of Soviet tanks. His plan was right there on Staz’s film. Staz himself clearly feared that the plan would be carried out, for he had included a handwritten note. This was unusual enough for Cam to pay it serious attention. Staz had written: ‘Reagan can prevent this happening if he threatens to cut off financial aid.’
Cam thought that was shrewd. Loans from Western governments and Western banks were keeping Poland afloat. The one thing worse than democracy would be bankruptcy.
Cam had voted for Reagan because he promised to be more aggressive in foreign policy. Now was his chance. If he acted quickly, Reagan could stop Poland taking a giant step backwards.
*
George and Verena had a pleasant suburban home in Prince George’s County, Maryland, just outside the Washington city limits, in the suburb he represented as congressman. He had to go to church every week now, a different denomination each Sunday, to worship with his voters. His job involved a few such chores, but most of the time he was passionately engaged. Jimmy Carter was out and Ronald Reagan was in the White House, and George was able to fight for the poorest people in America, many of whom were black.
Every month or two Maria Summers came to see her godson, Jack, now eighteen months old and showing some of the feistiness of his grandmother Jacky. She usually brought him a book. After brunch George would wash the dishes and Maria would dry, and they would talk about intelligence and foreign policy.
Maria was still working at the State Department. Her boss was now Secretary of State Alexander Haig. George asked whether State was getting better information on Poland. ‘Much better,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what you did, but the CIA really smartened up its act.’
George passed her a bowl to dry. ‘So what’s happening in Warsaw?’
‘The Soviets will not invade. We know that. The Polish Communists asked them to, and they refused point blank. But Brezhnev is pressing Jaruzelski to declare martial law and abolish Solidarity.’
‘That would be a shame.’
‘That’s what the State Department thinks.’
George hesitated. ‘I hear the word “but” coming along . . .’
‘You know me too well.’ She smiled. ‘We have the power to stamp on the martial law plan. President Reagan would only have to say that future economic aid depends on human rights.’
‘Why doesn’t he?’
‘He and Al Haig don’t really believe the Poles will impose martial law on themselves.’
‘Who knows? It might be smart to issue the warning anyway.’
‘That’s what I think.’
‘So why don’t they?’
‘They don’t want the other side to realize how good our intelligence is.’
‘There’s no point in having intelligence unless you use it.’
‘Maybe they will,’ said Maria. ‘But right now they’re dithering.’
*
Snow was falling in Warsaw two weekends before Christmas. Tania spent Saturday night alone. Staz never explained why he was or was not free to stay at her apartment. She had never been to his place, though she knew where he lived. Since she had introduced him to Cam Dewar, Staz had been close-mouthed about everything to do with the army. Tania assumed this was because he was revealing secrets to the Americans. He was like a prisoner who is on good behaviour all day while digging an escape tunnel at night.
But this was the second Saturday Tania had spent without him. She was not sure why. Was he tiring of her? Men did. The only man who had remained a permanent part of her life was Vasili, and she had never slept with him.
She found she was missing Vasili. She had never allowed herself to fall in love with him, because he was promiscuous, but she felt drawn to him. What she liked in men, she was beginning to realize, was courage. The three most important men in her life had been Paz Oliva, Staz Pawlak, and Vasili. As it happened they were all terrifically handsome. But they were also brave. Paz had stood up to the might of the US, Staz had betrayed the secrets of the Red Army, and Vasili had defied the power of the Kremlin. Of the three, Vasili was the one who most thrilled her imagination, for he had written devastating stories about the Soviet Union while starved and half-frozen in Siberia. She wondered how he was, and wished she knew what he was writing now. She wondered if he had gone back to his old Casanova ways, or had genuinely settled down.
She went to bed and read Doctor Zhivago in German – it still had not been published in Russian – until she felt sleepy and turned out the light.
She was awakened by banging. She sat upright and turned on the light. It was half past two in the morning. Someone was pounding on a door, though not her door.
She got up and looked out of the window. The cars parked on either side of the street were covered with a fresh layer of snow. In the middle of the road were two police cars and a BTR-60 armoured personnel carrier, carelessly parked at random angles in the manner of cops who knew they could do anything they liked.
The noise from outside her apartment changed from banging to crashing. It sounded as if someone was trying to demolish the building with a sledgehammer.
Tania put on a bathrobe and went to the hall. She picked up her TASS press card, which was lying on a hall table with her car keys and change. She opened her door and looked into the corridor. Nothing was happening, except that two of her neighbours were also nervously peeping out.
Tania propped her door open with a chair and went out. The noise was coming from the next floor down. She looked over the banisters and saw a group of men in the military camouflage uniform of the ZOMO, the notorious security police. Wielding crowbars and hammers, they were breaking down the door of Tania’s friend Danuta Gorski.
Tania yelled: ‘What are you doing? What’s happening?’
Some of her neighbours also shouted questions. The police took no notice.
The door was opened from inside, and Danuta’s husband stood there, a frightened man in pyjamas and glasses. ‘What do you want?’ he said. From within the apartment came the sound of children crying.
The cops strode in, shoving him out of the way.
Tania ran down the stairs. ‘You can’t do this!’ she yelled. ‘You have to identify yourselves!’
Two big policemen came out of the apartment dragging Danuta, her abundant hair in disarray, wearing a nightdress and a white candlewick dressing gown.
Tania stood in front of them, blocking the staircase. She held up her press card. ‘I am a Soviet reporter!’ she shouted.
‘Then get the fuck out of the way,’ one replied. He lashed out at her with a crowbar he held in his left hand. It was not a calculated blow, for he was striving to control the struggling Danuta with the other hand, but the iron bar caught Tania across the face. She felt a blaze of pain and staggered back. The two police pushed past her and hauled Danuta down the stairs.
Tania had blood in her right eye but she could see with her left. Another cop emerged from the apartment carrying a typewriter and a telephone answering device.
Danuta’s husband reappeared with a child in his arms. ‘Where are you taking her?’ he shouted. The police did not reply.
Tania said to him: ‘I’m going to call the army right now and find out.’ Holding one hand to her injured face, she went back up the stairs.
She glanced in the hall mirror. She had a gash on her forehead and her cheek was red and already swelling with a bruise, but she thought the blow had not broken any bones.