Monday, March 03, 2025

A Letter from 40 Veterans of Poland’s Anti-Communist Struggle to Donald Trump


One of the signatories, Lech Wałęsa, in the US Congress

Dear Mr. President,

We watched your conversation with the President of Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelensky, with horror and disgust. We find your expectations regarding the demonstration of respect and gratitude for the material aid provided by the United States to Ukraine—currently fighting Russia—to be offensive. Gratitude is owed to the heroic Ukrainian soldiers who are shedding their blood in defense of the values of the free world. They have been dying on the front lines for over 11 years now, in the name of these values and the independence of their homeland attacked by Putin’s Russia.
We do not understand how the leader of a country that symbolizes the free world could fail to see this.

We were also horrified by the atmosphere in the Oval Office during that conversation, which reminded us of the interrogations by the Security Service and the courtroom trials in communist courts that we vividly remember. The prosecutors and judges, acting on orders from the all-powerful communist political police, also used to explain to us that they had all the cards in their hands, while we had none. They demanded that we cease our activities, arguing that thousands of innocent people were suffering because of us. They deprived us of our freedom and civil rights because we refused to cooperate with the authorities and did not show gratitude to them. We are shocked that you treated President Volodymyr Zelensky in a similar way.

The history of the 20th century shows that whenever the United States tried to keep its distance from democratic values and its European allies, it ultimately resulted in a threat to the United States itself. President Woodrow Wilson understood this when he decided in 1917 that the United States would enter World War I. President Franklin Delano Roosevelt understood this when, after the attack on Pearl Harbor in December 1941, he decided that the war in defense of America would be fought not only in the Pacific but also in Europe, in alliance with the countries attacked by the Third Reich.

We remember that without President Ronald Reagan and American financial involvement, it would not have been possible to bring about the collapse of the Soviet Union’s empire. President Reagan was aware that in Soviet Russia and in the countries it had conquered, millions of enslaved people were suffering, including thousands of political prisoners who paid with their freedom for their commitment to democratic values. His greatness lay, among other things, in the fact that he did not hesitate to call the USSR an “Evil Empire” and waged a decisive struggle against it. We won, and today in Warsaw, opposite the U.S. embassy, stands a monument to President Ronald Reagan.

Mr. President, material aid—both military and financial—cannot be a substitute for the blood shed in the name of Ukraine’s independence and freedom, and that of Europe and the entire free world. Human life is priceless; its value cannot be measured in money. Gratitude is owed to those who bear the sacrifice of blood and freedom. For us, people of “Solidarity” and former political prisoners of the communist regime serving Soviet Russia, this is self-evident.

We call upon the United States to fulfill the guarantees it provided, along with the United Kingdom, in the 1994 Budapest Memorandum. In this document, it was explicitly stated there would be an obligation to defend Ukraine’s territorial integrity in exchange for Ukraine relinquishing its nuclear weapons arsenal. These guarantees are unconditional: there is not a single word in there about treating such assistance as a matter of commercial exchange.

Below is a list of 40 signatories, political prisoners from the time of the Polish People’s Republic (PRL). Apart from the former Presidents Lech Wałęsa and Bronisław Komorowski, these include Bogdan Borusewicz, Zbigniew Bujak, Władysław Frasyniuk, Bogdan Lis, Adam Michnik, and Andrzej Seweryn.

  • Lech Wałęsa, former political prisoner, leader of Solidarity, President of the Third Republic of Poland
  • Bronisław Komorowski, former political prisoner, President of the Third Republic of Poland
  • Marek Beylin, former political prisoner, editor of independent publications
  • Seweryn Blumsztajn, former political prisoner, member of the Workers’ Defense Committee
  • Teresa Bogucka, former political prisoner, democratic opposition and Solidarity activist
  • Grzegorz Boguta, former political prisoner, democratic opposition activist, independent publisher
  • Marek Borowik, former political prisoner, independent publisher
  • Bogdan Borusewicz, former political prisoner, leader of the underground Solidarity in Gdańsk
  • Zbigniew Bujak, former political prisoner, leader of the underground Solidarity in Warsaw
  • Władysław Frasyniuk, former political prisoner, leader of the underground Solidarity in Wrocław
  • Andrzej Gincburg, former political prisoner, underground Solidarity activist
  • Ryszard Grabarczyk, former political prisoner, Solidarity activist
  • Aleksander Janiszewski, former political prisoner, Solidarity activist
  • Piotr Kapczyński, former political prisoner, democratic opposition activist
  • Marek Kossakowski, former political prisoner, independent publicist
  • Krzysztof Król, former political prisoner, independence activist
  • Jarosław Kurski, former political prisoner, democratic opposition activist
  • Barbara Labuda, former political prisoner, underground Solidarity activist
  • Bogdan Lis, former political prisoner, leader of the underground Solidarity in Gdańsk
  • Henryk Majewski, former political prisoner, Solidarity activist
  • Adam Michnik, former political prisoner, democratic opposition activist, editor of independent publications
  • Sławomir Najnigier, former political prisoner, underground Solidarity activist
  • Piotr Niemczyk, former political prisoner, journalist and printer of underground publications
  • Stefan Konstanty Niesiołowski, former political prisoner, independence activist
  • Edward Nowak, former political prisoner, underground Solidarity activist
  • Wojciech Onyszkiewicz, former political prisoner, member of the Workers’ Defense Committee, Solidarity activist
  • Antoni Pawlak, former political prisoner, democratic and underground Solidarity activist
  • Sylwia Poleska-Peryt, former political prisoner, democratic opposition activist
  • Krzysztof Pusz, former political prisoner, underground Solidarity activist
  • Ryszard Pusz, former political prisoner, underground Solidarity activist
  • Jacek Rakowiecki, former political prisoner, underground Solidarity activist
  • Andrzej Seweryn, former political prisoner, actor, Director of the Polish Theater in Warsaw
  • Witold Sielewicz, former political prisoner, printer of independent publications
  • Henryk Sikora, former political prisoner, Solidarity activist
  • Krzysztof Siemieński, former political prisoner, journalist and printer of underground publications
  • Grażyna Staniszewska, former political prisoner, leader of Solidarity in the Beskid region
  • Jerzy Stępień, former political prisoner, democratic opposition activist
  • Joanna Szczęsna, former political prisoner, editor of the underground Solidarity press
  • Ludwik Turko, former political prisoner, underground Solidarity activist
  • Mateusz Wierzbicki, former political prisoner, printer and publicist of independent publications


Sunday, February 16, 2025

Tomasz Lis on Bidding Farewell to America: "The Worst is Likely Yet to Come"

This is automated translation of Tomasz Lis article which appeared in NaTemat online journal:
https://natemat.pl/blogi/tomaszlis/589934,felieton-tomasza-lisa-pozegnanie-z-ameryka  

transformation is nothing short of shocking. The former leader of the free world is now evidently becoming its adversary. For decades, America inspired admiration and hope. Today, it evokes outrage or pity. A great power that elicits pity—this does not bode well.

The Roman Empire was attacked by barbarians. The American Empire has been assaulted by internal barbarians. The chief barbarian turned out to be the Caesar.

An America that not only tolerates but even rewards an approach to international relations exemplified by Vladimir Putin is becoming a parody of itself and a negation of everything it stood for over two centuries. Despite its flaws, shortcomings, and mistakes, America appeared to millions around the world as a beacon of hope.

America was the world’s first empire of good—willing to confront and pay the price of confronting successive incarnations of the empire of evil, from Hitler’s Germany to Stalin’s and Brezhnev’s Soviet Union, to bin Laden’s network of Islamic terrorism.

Over sixty years ago, a young American president, taking his oath, addressed the world: "Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, support any friend, and oppose any foe to assure the survival and the success of liberty."

Three years later, in Soviet-threatened West Berlin, he reassured its citizens, declaring, "Ich bin ein Berliner." A quarter of a century later, one of his successors stood by the Berlin Wall and called upon the Soviet leader to tear it down. America spoke in the voice of freedom, dignity, and human rights.

In 1989, the leader of Poland’s victorious Solidarity movement, Lech Wałęsa, spoke with deep emotion before a joint session of the U.S. Congress, highlighting America’s generosity: "This Congress," he emphasized, "appears to many oppressed and disenfranchised people around the world as a light of freedom and a bastion of human rights."

Today, that generosity is being rapidly replaced by pettiness, wickedness, and vileness. Instead of a free America, there is lawlessness. To paraphrase Churchill: Never before have so few, in such a short time, destroyed so much of the legacy of so many. The Statue of Liberty shrinks and collapses in shame.

An America that scorns its most loyal allies while openly rewarding its greatest adversary—a brutal aggressor and war criminal—is systematically erasing what has been the essence of its spirit and identity for two centuries. An America that favors and appeases tyranny is destroying itself.

Before our very eyes, Donald Trump is obliterating the principle of national self-determination, which, since the signing of the Atlantic Charter by Roosevelt and Churchill, has been the foundation of the Western political community. Along the way, he is dismantling America's soft power and the extraordinary legacy of talent and hard work contributed by remarkable individuals—from Michael Jordan to Steven Spielberg, from Einstein to Chaplin, from Martin Luther King to Whitney Houston, from Mark Twain to Stephen King, from Meryl Streep to Tom Hanks, from Walt Disney to Ralph Lauren.

All of this is being sacrificed to appease the man despised by the free world—Putin. Roosevelt sought to defeat Hitler, not to gratify him. American presidents, from Truman onward, aimed to overcome the Soviets, not to appease them. America’s entire soft power is being swiftly buried. Instead of America the Beautiful, we now have America the Terrible.

It is not only America that needs the world’s sympathy. The world, for its own good, needs an America that is liked and respected. Today, at breakneck speed, it is turning into an amoral outcast—both ethically and in terms of global perception—a toxic and radioactive state. Instead of leading the free world, it is becoming a pariah. This could be the greatest public relations catastrophe in world history.

Bin Laden and the Iranian ayatollahs could never have dreamed of such an outcome. Instead of MAGA, we are witnessing MASAcre. A world in which America becomes a laughingstock is a dangerous world. An America that disregards values loses its own value. America’s strength and prestige have never been just military power, but rather the power of its ideas and spirit. This was its historical uniqueness. Strength without virtue inevitably becomes a tool of evil.

Power without values is a colossus that, in the end, must collapse—a tragedy not only for America but for the world. The fall and disgrace of America is good news only for its enemies. For its allies and friends, like the Polish people, it is disheartening. It is deeply unsettling to realize that a nation once destined to protect the world may now become its greatest threat. And all of this within just a few weeks.

The worst is likely yet to come.

Original text in Polish: Felieton Tomasza Lisa. Pożegnanie z Ameryką | naTemat.pl

Monday, January 27, 2025

Full Reverse. Musk, just like Trump, is our child

This is an op-ed written originally in Polish (https://natemat.pl/blogi/tomaszlis/586808,felieton-tomasza-lisa-o-trumpie-i-musku) by Tomasz Lis, Polish journalist.

Donald Trump may be the cause of countless misfortunes, but at their core, Trump and Trumpism—and likewise Musk and Muskism—are inevitable consequences. Consequences of our mistakes, our negligence, our foolishness, and our lack of imagination.

We live in an era where the main values are convenience, comfort, freedom from stress, and peace of mind. It’s somewhat understandable. After millennia of wars, murders, violence, and two horrific world wars, humanity had every right to want to ease off, catch its breath, and dock in a safe harbor.

The problem is that life never stands still; the world is never motionless. Just because we take a breather doesn’t mean the Earth stops spinning or that ancient forces stop roiling beneath us. Any sense of peace is merely an illusion, stagnation is a façade, and stillness is illusory.

I fully understand the desire to escape from all sorts of problems. I myself embrace a rather minimalist notion of happiness, which I call sans souci—“without worries”—just as Voltaire’s friend, King Frederick II of Prussia, named his beautiful palace in Potsdam. If you feel safe at home, the fridge is full, and the roof doesn’t leak, you can already call that happiness. Most of us need little more, and that’s perfectly fine.

On the other hand, despite subscribing to this form of happiness, I’m still drawn to the motto posted at the exit to the US Open’s center court in New York: “Pressure is a privilege.” However, few people share that view. After all, why stress out when our civilization’s top priority is to avoid stress? Even when we give ourselves challenges—running marathons or doing Ironmans—we do it for pleasure. In other words, even enormous effort serves our hedonism.

And that’s okay. Our lives have changed completely over the past 30–40 years. Because the fingers on my left hand aren’t fully functional, I’m typing this text with the thumb of my right hand on a phone. As I do this, I look back with nostalgia and a hint of melancholy on how, 40 years ago, I wrote my first pieces on a typewriter. I hammered those keys, it was incredibly loud, and I loved it because everyone knew a real journalist typed on a machine, surrounded by clouds of smoke, lighting one cigarette off the other and snubbing them out in an overflowing ashtray. That’s how it used to be.

A few days ago, we celebrated Grandmother’s and Grandfather’s Day. Most children passed on their well-wishes by calling from a cell phone. And with just one more button press, they could see grandma or grandpa. Once upon a time, you had to travel across town or place a long-distance call (something kids today don’t even know existed and never will). It’s all quite amazing.

In the past, when I was sending TV reports from Los Angeles or San Diego, I needed satellite links. Today, a phone call is enough. Incredible. The world at your thumb. At your thumb you have access to every library, every book, museum, store, flight ticket, or any information about your favorite actors or athletes—who post this information themselves. Everyone is at your fingertips, the entire world’s knowledge is a tap away. The transformation is so staggering that being intoxicated by it comes naturally. Lightheadedness is inevitable, a nearly narcotic high guaranteed.

So, what does Trump have to do with all this? In a world where comfort is king, and success is measured in clicks, likes, and followers, humanity effectively glorifies and institutionalizes egotism and narcissism. The highway for the Trumps of the world is wide open. Especially since—here’s another paradox—while access to knowledge is easier than ever, ignorance is more widespread than ever. Everyone knows everything, which means no one truly knows anything. Everyone is an expert at everything, which means no one understands a thing. On top of that, it’s an ignorance that’s smug and self-assured. We now have perfectly tilled soil for a Trump—or many Trumps—and for his supporters.

I very much appreciate audacity. It fuels ambition and imagination, drives desires, and forces us to take action and meet challenges head-on. But audacity without humility is a devilish trap. It gives the illusion of omnipotence and omniscience. Over fifty years ago, when humanity landed on the Moon, most people watched that triumph on television. Today, enjoying humanity’s countless triumphs is our everyday routine.

We practically breathe the fruits of human genius. And we devour them from dawn to dusk: touch-screen phones, voice-controlled TV remotes, voice-activated lights—a kind of Edison and Goethe on steroids. Our intellect has proven boundless, our minds untamable, yet behind the brilliance of these creators and inventors, there’s been no parallel revolution of the heart or of empathy.

In 1998, Pope John Paul II wrote the encyclical Fides et Ratio—faith and reason. It was essentially a desperate defense of religion, values, and the embattled human heart, pitted against reason’s triumph and its intoxicating self-congratulation. After all, this extraordinary reason had already decided that faith was passé, religion an anachronism and relic, and talk of moral values just a waste of time. Humanity decided it was smarter than God, no longer needed Him, and considered morality and ethics worthless junk fit for the landfill.

At the very peak of its intellect and the zenith of its absolute power of reason, humanity found itself on a desert of madness and nihilism, more lost than ever before. Cut off from any signal, geolocation, or navigation, it flailed blindly, searching for a way out and following charlatans who offered easy, pleasant, and comfortable solutions—since, after all, convenience is everything.

Pope John Paul II wrote that faith and reason are like wings lifting man toward contemplating truth. Humanity, however, concluded that it either already knows the truth or doesn’t need it. And if it does decide to look for truth, it tries to fly with just one wing. Even without the Smolensk disaster, we know you can’t fly with only one wing.

The greatest triumph in human history thus became the foretaste of the collapse of ideas, the death of ethics and values, and a total defeat for humanity.

Welcome to Trump’s world. Are you happy? Are you fucking happy? Trump is your child and your downfall. Now, to paraphrase Gogol, go ahead and weep for yourselves. And as Scripture says: “there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” And so it is. Humanity mindlessly believed in a utopia and chased after it. Yet every utopia is merely a foyer to hell.

Huxley knew this when he described his Brave New World, as did Orwell. And so did the millions of victims of Nazism and Communism who fertilized the soil where it grew. A handful of madmen decided they would save humanity—or at least the “master race”—and they set off with great gusto to realize their vision. Every overly pushy and reckless recipe for happiness has been, and will always be, a recipe for disaster. Every rejection of faith and values has been the antechamber and appetizer to a nightmare.

Now we have Musk, who is saving the planet with electric cars and planning a trip to Mars. But he’s so intoxicated with his own power that he’s removed all brakes and safety switches. Audacity made him dream of Mars. Lack of humility will send him to hell first—and us along with him. Musk, like Trump, is our child. We gave him the toys, the opportunities, and the power, forgetting that all power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Reworking Kennedy’s words is in vogue, so here’s my version: Don’t ask how humanity can achieve success and triumph. Ask how to prevent it—before humanity becomes the multi-billion-strong victim of that very success.

A Letter from 40 Veterans of Poland’s Anti-Communist Struggle to Donald Trump

One of the signatories, Lech Wałęsa, in the US Congress Dear Mr. President, We watched your conversation with the President of Ukraine, Vo...