Playing Russian Roulette

By Stephen Smith

Strike-happy unions continue their risky game with Moscow

For a time it seemed to have all the makings of a rerun of last summer's strike drama. Threatening a citywide general strike, workers in Warsaw put up posters and donned red-and-white armbands. Many newsstands stopped selling government newspapers and displayed small Polish flags, a symbol of union protest. At the Ursus tractor factory, flash point of the 1976 food riots, more than 600 assembled workers cheered as union organizers from other Warsaw plants pledged to shut down their enterprises. The battle cry was contained in a poem read by one union leader: "It's better to die on your feet than to live on your knees."

On the eve of Thursday's strike deadline, the authorities caved in to the union's chief demand. They released Jan Narozniak, a union volunteer, and Piotr Sapelo, a government employee, both of whom had been arrested on charges of stealing a secret state plan for cracking down on dissidents. The 13-page document was uncovered when police raided the Warsaw branch of Solidarity, the national federation of Poland's new independent unions and their estimated 10 million members.

Although the two men still face criminal charges, their release from jail was counted as a major concession from the government and reason enough to call off the citywide strike. To keep the pressure on, steelworkers briefly closed the giant Huta Warszawa plant, and the Warsaw union put other factories on "strike alert." The aim was to force talks on a series of other, highly incendiary demands. Among them: creation of a parliamentary commission to investigate the operations of the police and the state prosecutor, and budget cuts for the Ministry of Internal Affairs, which oversees law enforcement. By thus challenging the state security apparatus, the unions were in effect directing a challenge at the heart of the Communist system itself. "This is absolute foolhardiness," said a worried East bloc specialist in Bonn. "This goes against Walesa's assurances that Solidarity's purpose was more economic than political. It adds to the tinder."

Lech Walesa, the Solidarity leader, has had increasing difficulty controlling his unruly rank and file. In recent weeks he has been counseling moderation and discipline, arguing that the union should concentrate on organizing instead of spending itself on a series of local skirmishes. He is also worried that the union may be overplaying its hand. As he told workers in Warsaw last week, with an unmistakable warning about the ominous possibility of Soviet intervention, "It will be a great mess if we go on strike . . . Let us not forget that tanks and rockets could be the reply."

Although they pulled back from the brink of a major confrontation in Warsaw, the increasingly militant workers are plainly in no mood to pussyfoot. In two towns last week they occupied government offices. Textile employees also walked off the job in Lodz, and pay disputes interrupted operations at a reported 30 coal mines in the industrial region of Silesia. Commuter lines in Warsaw and Gdansk were briefly shut down when railway workers and the government clashed over how to distribute $6.3 million in pay raises. TASS, the official Soviet news agency, warned that "the threat of a general transport strike . . . could affect Poland's national and defense interests." Translation: Do not fool around with rail links to East Germany, home of 19 Soviet divisions and the front line of Warsaw Pact defenses.

Meantime, the government continued its sporadic purge of corrupt or overly hard-line officials. Party Boss Stanislaw Kania has replaced 19 of the 49 provincial first secretaries. Several provincial governors have been sacked, including one who was under fire from Solidarity. A Roman Catholic member of Parliament, Jerzy Ozdowski, 55, was promoted to Deputy Prime Minister. Although Ozdowski is not active in church affairs, his appointment should impress Poland's enormous Catholic community.

All this maneuvering had one overriding purpose: self-preservation. To stay in power, Kania must prove to Moscow that his regime is in control. Right now he is playing for time, solidifying his power base while appeasing the workers with friendly appointments and economic concessions. At some point, he knows, he will have to draw the line. That decisive moment may be hastened if severe consumer shortages develop this winter, as some experts fear. Hamstrung by a $21 billion debt to the West, the Polish economy is in dire straits--and getting worse every day.

Meanwhile, the unease of Poland's neighbors was rising perceptibly. Communist Party newspapers in Czechoslovakia and East Germany delivered their harshest attacks yet on the independent unions. More ominously, Soviet troops along the Polish border were unusually active for this time of year. By keeping these forces in a higher state of readiness, the Soviets can cut then-invasion mobilization time considerably, according to Western sources.

Western European leaders worry that a misstep in Poland could touch-off an international crisis of truly ominous dimensions. If Soviet tanks rumble across the Polish border, countries like West Germany and France will feel every vibration. Poland has special meaning for them, and not just because of its proximity. Long-standing cultural ties and a large emigrant population have produced enormous sympathy for Poland in Western Europe. Leaders there know that public opinion would never let them forgive Moscow if it ever intervened. An invasion, they fear, would not only destroy detente but possibly provoke a perilous East-West confrontation.

Polish workers are strangely nonchalant about the possibility of Soviet intervention. Time and again, foreign observers have noticed how their sense of purpose, their passionate nationalism and their rabid anti-Soviet sentiments have produced a dangerous euphoria--and an apparent craving for still more confrontation. "By what they do and say," observes an analyst in the West German chancellery, "you would think that many of these fellows deliberately want to tweak the bear's nose." Walesa and other Solidarity moderates will be hard put to rein in the union's runaway rank and file. If they do not, Kania or Moscow may--at far higher cost.

By Stephen Smith. Reported by Barry Kalb/West Berlin

With reporting by Barry Kalb

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