Poland A Prayer for Solidarity's

By William R. Doerner

When Pope John Paul II last visited his native Poland, in 1983, he made only veiled references to Solidarity, the outlawed independent labor movement. The martial law that had abruptly ended Poland's democratic experiment was still in effect, and he was not even permitted to visit Gdansk, the Baltic shipbuilding city that gave birth to Solidarity. But last week, on his third visit as Pope to his homeland, John Paul more than made up for lost time. Speaking in Gdansk from a giant outdoor altar built in the stylized form of a wooden sailing vessel, the Pontiff not only talked about Solidarity but pleaded with his audience to continue abiding by the principles of the banned organization. "Let this day be the day of our common prayer for work and solidarity," he said in ringing tones. "I pray every day for the working people and the specific heritage of Polish solidarity."

The previous evening John Paul had held a poignant reunion in Gdansk with Lech Walesa, the electrician who gained worldwide fame as Solidarity's founder. Now a "private citizen" in the government's eyes, an obviously elated Walesa called his 35-minute session with the Pope "great" and said, "We were in a place we know, and we could just be ourselves." At Warsaw's insistence, the meeting was kept off John Paul's official agenda.

John Paul also paid an emotional visit to the Majdanek concentration camp, where several hundred thousand people, mostly Jews, were killed during World War II. As he prayed silently for five minutes over a mound of the victims' commingled bones and ashes, tears welled in his eyes. Throughout the trip, the Pope was surrounded by legions of militia and other security personnel, whose intimidating numbers may have kept down attendance at some events. In Gdansk riot police clashed briefly with some 10,000 worshipers marching toward a Solidarity worker's monument.

The ideological chasms separating John Paul from his official hosts were evident from the minute his airplane landed at Warsaw's Okecie Airport. Polish * Leader General Wojciech Jaruzelski, noting that the martial law in effect during the Pope's last visit had been lifted shortly after his departure, warned his guest that the one matter not open to papal "initiative" was "acceptance of the socialist principles of our state." It did not take long for John Paul to disregard that rule. Speaking to a group of academics at the Catholic University of Lublin, he called for a re-examination of the "very premises of the contemporary state organism," one of his most direct attacks on Marxism so far.

Nevertheless, the Pontiff surprised nearly everyone by addressing a question that even a Vatican spokesman said would not arise during the visit: diplomatic relations between the Holy See and the Jaruzelski regime. Speaking to Polish bishops shortly before his departure Sunday, the Pope for the first time called for the establishment of diplomatic ties. "In the case of the so- called Catholic country," he said, "the Holy See considers relations with a given state as a normal and right thing."

For all their differences, church and state in Poland have long realized that a certain amount of cooperation is in both their interests. Jaruzelski is anxious to gain the legitimacy of diplomatic recognition by the Vatican, which was withdrawn shortly after the Communists came to power in 1948. To that end he has permitted the construction of 1,400 new churches since 1981. However, Roman Catholic officials are holding out for much more than that, including recognition of the church's formal status in Poland's constitution. The papal visit was a reminder that the church's bargaining position on such matters may now be stronger than ever. One key result of Solidarity's untimely demise has been to restore the church to its role, unique in the Communist world, as the only powerful counterweight to the government in Polish life.

With reporting by Sam Allis and Kenneth W. Banta, with the Pope