Chilly Time for D

By Stephen Smith

Poland's Communist neighbors are worried about independence

From the moment it was signed, the Gdansk agreement ending Poland's nationwide strike sent ripples of unease through Eastern Europe. Would the new independent unions demand too much, thereby inviting Moscow's wrath as well as its army? Would the Polish disease spread and cause unrest in other Communist countries? How would the Soviets keep their satellites in line?

As the ripples intensified, East bloc nations have nervously responded to events in Poland with a series of tough acts and words, directed against both "antisocialist elements" in their countries and against the West. Items:

P:Ending a period of relative concord between the two Germanys, East Germany abruptly required visitors from the West to change $13.90 a day into East German marks instead of the previous minimum of $7.20; within a week visits dropped by nearly 60%. As part of an escalating war of words, East German radio one night carried three hours of speeches attacking Bonn. East German Party Boss Erich Honecker sounded a theme rarely heard in the era of detente: "Once again it is clear that the removal of capitalistic society is historically necessary." Earlier he had warned: "Poland is and will remain a socialist country," adding ominously: "We and our friends will make sure of that."

P:Vasil Bil'ak, a hard-lining ideologue of Czechoslovakia's Communist Party, asserted that a counterrevolution had already begun in Poland, and that the strike leaders "want to transform the alleged independent unions into a legal base of opposition activity and the main channel for continuing outside interference in Poland's affairs."

P: Rumanian President Nicolae Ceaus,es-cu, who has stressed industrial development at the expense of the consumer, criticized Poland's new independent unions, asking rhetorically what they were independent of: "Of revolutionary attitudes? Of the struggle against oppression and social injustice?" The slogan "independence," he said, has always been used to break the unity of the working class and to serve the interests of imperialism.

Most Western analysts concluded that the tough talk was designed largely for domestic consumption--in effect, a warning from these repressive East bloc governments to their own citizens against trying to follow the Poles' example. "But if the Poles push Moscow too far and provoke a military move, that raises the crisis level to East-West status, and requires a response from Washington," said a Foreign Ministry specialist in Bonn. "There's no telling where that might lead."

Events in Poland took a dangerous turn late last week when a Warsaw district court doublecrossed Solidarnosc (Solidarity), the umbrella organization claiming to represent some 50 independent unions and 7 million workers. At issue was Solidarity's request for legal recognition, which had been blocked for a month because the union charter did not explicitly recognize the supremacy of the Communist Party. After several hours of argument, the court agreed to register the labor group, leaving the charter dispute unresolved--and seemingly forgotten.

But after a short recess, the judge tacked on some amendments to the original charter. To the dismay of union leaders, he inserted the objectionable clause about party supremacy. In a statement read by Solidarity Leader Lech Walesa, the union denounced the "arbitrary" revision and vowed to be "guided by the charter without the changes made by the court." Outside the courthouse, Walesa told supporters: "They will not do to us things that we do not want done."

This is no idle boast. The charismatic Walesa, 37, has emerged as a national hero who can mobilize hundreds of thousands of workers. During a five-day tour of southern Poland, he was greeted by large and enthusiastic throngs. The emotional high point came in Cracow, where he was swept up by the crowd and carried on shoulders two miles to the old city's Market Square. There he raised his hand and declared: "I swear that I will not disappoint you in that which we do and intend to do." The gathering of 30,000 responded with chants of "Walesa, Walesa!" and "Long live Walesa!"

Many Polish workers are restive about official foot dragging on the Gdansk agreement; they have threatened to register their displeasure with a nationwide work stoppage similar to the one that shut factories for an hour on Oct. 3. Walesa and others had argued against such a step, at least for the moment. Said Walesa: "We are aware of the economic losses another strike would entail, but, since this is our weapon, we cannot give up using it."

The Roman Catholic Church, always a potent force in Polish affairs, could become a possible mediator between the workers and the authorities. Stefan Cardinal Wyszynski, the Primate of Poland, told a delegation from Solidarity: "I am with you. You will last it out and you will win." Two days later the Cardinal met with new Party Boss Stanislaw Kania and discussed, according to the Polish Press Agency, "matters of great significance for the internal peace of the country."

Already mired in Afghanistan, the U.S.S.R. would be reluctant to invade an other satellite, no matter how balky. But Moscow might have to move, if only to sti fle rumblings of discontent within its own borders. Estonian emigres in Stockholm report that there have been nationalist demonstrations at schools in the Estonian capital of Tallinn, as well as a strike at a tractor factory in the city of Tartu. Students in Tartu held protest rallies, demanding an end to the 40-year-old So viet occupation of their country. Walesa is characteristically defiant about the possibility of Soviet intervention. "Tanks can guard us," he says, "but they cannot make us work. "

Reported by Barry Kalb/Berlin

With reporting by Barry Kalb

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