Repairing a Shaken Regime

Poland's pre-Christmas riots flared up so suddenly and died down so quickly that people are only now beginning to realize how close the country came to disaster. In the disorders that rocked the seaport towns of Gdansk. Gdynia and Sopot and the industrial center of

Szczecin, at least 77 died and scores were hurt. Confused by new work rules that threatened to reduce their income and enraged by increases in food prices, workers looted shops and put Communist Party headquarters in several cities to the torch. That was not half so bad as what nearly happened, reports TIME Correspondent Burton Pines, who has just returned from Poland.

At one point during the riots, Gdansk shipyard workers with blazing acetylene torches in their hands chanted "Burn! Burn!" and threatened to ignite huge fuel tanks in the yards; they were dissuaded at the last minute by party officials, who promised to listen to their grievances. In Warsaw, Cracow and other major cities, workers were preparing to stage a general strike and demonstrations when the abrupt resignation of Party Chief Wladyslaw Gomulka persuaded them to wait and see what would happen next. In his anger, Gomulka warned other officials that unless the rioting stopped, he would call upon Soviet troops and tanks to end it. Despite that threat, the Polish high command disobeyed his order that Polish troops fire directly on the rioters (many of the deaths resulted from ricochets).

Complicated Chess. Poland is almost completely calm now. Perhaps the chief reason for the quick restoration of quiet is the prudent and impressive manner in which Gomulka's successor, Edward Gierek, 58, has taken control. Gierek's first move was to grant a number of immediate concessions to the workers, including a price freeze and an 18% raise in the minimum wage (to a still miserable $33 a month). Gierek has now begun a more complex program and, to reassure his neighbors about his plans, he has visited Moscow, East Berlin and Prague and sent his top aides to Belgrade, Budapest, Bucharest and Sofia.

Like a chess player who tries to make three moves simultaneously, Gierek is attempting to assemble an administrative team, establish a basis of public trust and tackle the economy's problems--all at once. A trained engineer who made Silesia's coal miners the envy of Poland for their superior wages and modern equipment, Gierek is filling some important government posts with fellow Silesians. To establish contact with the people, he frequently visits factories and speaks on TV and radio. He has fired the country's trade union boss and the Szczecin party chief. Well aware that 95% of his countrymen are at least nominal Roman Catholics, he is openly courting the church; his Premier, Piotr Jaroszewicz, is expected to confer with Stefan Cardinal Wyszinski, the primate of Poland, in the near future--the first such meeting in almost a decade.

As a further move to create public trust, Gierek has ordered the Politburo and the Secretariat of the Central Committee to meet weekly and make public a resume of their discussions. He has discouraged the adulation normally conferred on a party chief. Though Gomulka's portrait has come down from office walls throughout Poland, the new boss has told aides that they can put up pictures of the Polish eagle or Lenin, but not of Edward Gierek.

Cars for Workers. The first test of party support for Gierek will come in early February, when the Central Committee meets for the first time since last month's crisis. Gomulka, who has recovered from a physical collapse suffered during the disorders, is still a member and may attend. Gierek's supporters are bracing for possible attacks from the deposed Gomulka faction and other diehard party bureaucrats.

A more important test will come over the next few months, as Gierek struggles to convince Poland's restive workers that he is doing the best possible job in trying to solve the country's grave economic difficulties, particularly its chronic meat shortages and antiquated industrial plants. Many Poles hope that he will reverse the woeful neglect of consumer goods in favor of heavy industry.

Unlike the ascetic Gomulka, who sprang from impoverished laborers and had no experience of life in the West, Gierek lived as a young man in France and Belgium. He still reads Le Monde and Le Figaro every morning. "Gierek has sat in French bistros and has gone window-shopping," says a Warsaw writer. "He enjoys life." While Gomulka permitted production of the Polski Fiat, which sells for about $4,000, he steadfastly opposed the manufacture of cheaper autos as an unnecessary luxury. By contrast, Gierek hopes to build an auto plant that would turn out less expensive cars that would be within the reach of most workers.

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