bourgeoisie.”)
At 6:00 a.m. Jaruzelski appeared on television in full general’s uniform, flanked by the Polish flag. “Our country has found itself at the edge of an abyss,” he declared. “Poland’s future is at stake: the future for which my generation fought.”
In a voice laden with emotion, Jaruzelski accused Solidarity leaders of everything from “acts of terrorism” to economic sabotage. If the present situation were allowed to continue, he declared, the result would be “famine,” “chaos,” and “civil war.” Socialism was the only path possible for Poland. With heavy heart, he announced that a state of war had been imposed on the entire country. A Military Council of National Salvation had been formed to bring the country back from the brink of disaster. Military tribunals were being established to punish anyone acting against the “interests of the state.”
Jaruzelski ended his speech with the first line of the national anthem: “Poland has not perished as long as we live.” As he spoke, the chords of the patriotic mazurka sung by exiled Polish legionnaires following the eighteenth-century partition of their country welled up in the background.
From Jaruzelski’s point of view, the first few days of martial law went astonishingly well. A few Solidarity leaders—Bujak was the most important—managed to go into hiding, but most were arrested. As expected, workers at many large factories attempted to stage occupation strikes. All were broken up with brutal efficiency by the ZOMO, usually under the cover of the nighttime curfew. The Lenin Shipyard, regarded by the entire country as Solidarity’s inner fortress, held out for less than a week. The organizers of the strike had trouble persuading the frightened workers to guard the perimeter of the shipyard, including gate number two. After establishing a psychological advantage, the ZOMO smashed the shipyard wall at several different points and rounded up the protesters.
The most serious casualties occurred at the Wujek coal mine in Silesia, where Solidarity supporters armed themselves with axes, chains, and iron rods. The miners had vowed to defend themselves after hearing of beatings and mass arrests elsewhere in Silesia. Fierce hand-to-hand combat brokeout after ZOMO units attacked the mine with tanks and helicopters, three days after the imposition of martial law. Encircled by the enraged miners in a narrow courtyard, the riot police opened fire. Nine protesters were killed. The wall where the miners died became a makeshift shrine. The victims’ helmets lay on the top of the wall for months afterward, along with mounds of fresh flowers and messages of support for the banned trade union. 170
With his massive blow against Solidarity, Jaruzelski succeeded in reversing the movement’s principal accomplishment: overcoming the fear that had divided Pole from Pole. As was the case before August 1980, the Communist regime now controlled an atomized and defeated society. The psychological walls that Solidarity had succeeded in smashing went up again practically overnight. Ordinary people began to mistrust one another once more. Anyone could be a police informer. The desperate economic situation also helped the general. The priority for most families in the exceptionally cold winter of 1981 was not politics, but keeping warm and finding enough to eat.
It was enough to look at the faces of people in the streets the day after martial law was declared to see that Jaruzelski had won his gamble. The exuberance and sense of pride that had been the hallmark of the Solidarity period disappeared overnight. The people themselves were different. Millions of rank-and-file Solidarity supporters retreated to the safety of their apartments. Their place on the streets was taken by hundreds of thousands of people connected in some way with the Communist regime. They immediately began ripping down Solidarity posters, guarding public buildings, and issuing permits