After the Visit, the Questions Begin… – Folha de S. Paulo, June 23, 1979
by Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira
The big question about John Paul II’s visit to Poland is whether it will lead to an impasse, reconciliation, or a fight.
More precisely, in Poland, the Catholic Religion has been persecuted ever since the communist regime was established. Does the Pontiff’s visit signal the end of that persecution—or its resurgence? Or does it announce to the world that both sides are content with the present status quo? A wretched status quo, indeed, in which the communists enjoy the carefree position of persecutors, while the Church endures the harsh condition of being miserably persecuted, scarcely daring to raise its voice lest it break the fragile modus vivendi and expose itself to being strangled.
The answer to these questions is decisive for defining the new pontificate in the face of the most terrible alternative of our time: communism—yes or no? It tells the martyrs of the Church of Silence what style and degree of support they may expect from the Vatican, in the sense of a serene and dignified normality. That is, a state of affairs that, even if it does not grant the Mystical Bride of Christ all the support to which she is entitled, at least recognizes her full freedom to say and do whatever she judges necessary for the evangelization of souls and the restoration of Christian civilization.
For the West, the matter is no less significant, for it ultimately comes down to asking to what extent John Paul II is willing to commit the Church’s prestige to defend, against communism, those regions of the world where he fully recognizes the freedom guaranteed by common law.
That being said, what can be concluded from what the newspapers have published—amid rustling pages and abundant festivity—about the events that have just unfolded in Poland?
Let us begin by noting what many newspapers did not publish. Reports from international news agencies on the size of the crowds that welcomed and cheered the Pontiff were vague, contradictory, and at times implausible. No one, for example, seemed to know how many Poles were present in Warsaw when John Paul II arrived or at the Mass he celebrated in Victory Square—commemorating, incidentally, the Bolsheviks’ entry into the country and the consequent establishment of the Marxist regime. Some dispatches spoke of 200,000 to 300,000 people. Vague, to be sure—and above all, a very small number for a city of 1.5 million inhabitants. Reports from other locations often avoided giving any estimate at all. They preferred to inform us that the sky was indigo blue, that the regional costumes were colorful, and that the people laughed heartily at each of the Pontiff’s jokes. On this point, the correspondents seem to have been most accurate: not a single joke appears to have gone unreported. Indeed, more space was often devoted to recounting John Paul II’s humor than to his important statements. The result was that the public remained unaware of the extent of the declared, active, and fervent Catholicism in the land of St. Stanislaus.
This point was crucial for analyzing the apostolic effectiveness of the relationship established between Cardinals Wyszynski and Wojtyla, on the one hand, and the Polish communist government, on the other.
This regime has consisted—and continues to consist—of allowing the Church only a narrow doctrinal space in which it may lawfully contest the regime without provoking the closure of every church. That space is limited to refuting Marxist atheism, the philosophical foundation of the system. Even so, legally reduced to a handful of churches, seminaries, and open institutions—reduced, in short, to something as small as a bird—the Church is compelled to speak with a bird’s voice: serene, one might almost say melodic. Anything stronger, and the whip comes down.
But what, then, is she forbidden to say? The Church in Poland lives under oppression, crushed beneath the hand of an executioner. Under the general practice of communist regimes, Polish law has reduced the family to a mere rag and private property to a fading memory. In this way, the Polish status conflicts, in one form or another, with nearly all the Commandments of God’s Law: “honor your father and your mother,” “do not sin against chastity,” “do not covet your neighbor’s wife”—all in the realm of the family; “do not steal,” “do not covet what belongs to others”—in the realm of property. Before such an overwhelmingly anti-Christian order, the Church may say nothing. Or so little that it amounts to nothing.
In one way or another, the Polish episcopate has accepted the rules of the game. It does not utter a word beyond the narrow limits permitted to it. And what has been the result, from the standpoint of popular fervor? The election of a Polish Pope, his return to his homeland, and the welcome he received from the government—whip in hand, yet with a surprising smile on their lips—all this brought together, au grand complet, the maximum conditions that present-day Poland can offer for religious enthusiasm to reach its peak. As happened in Mexico, or perhaps even more so.
On the Western side, the left-wing press, the centrist press, and—most notably—the right-wing press applauded in advance, expecting nothing less than an apotheosis. And what was the result? At best, a lively festival. In other words, a watered-down fruit.
Throughout his visit, however, the pope did nothing but stick to the topics permitted by the communist government.
Everything suggests he was fully aware of the gulf between the hopes that pulsed around the world and the reality he faced. He returned to Rome, showing signs of fatigue rather than triumph, and immediately withdrew to Castel Gandolfo to rest and reflect.
What will he think? Will he adhere to the old Wyszynski–Gierek line? Or will he resolve to seek the counsel of his great predecessors—Blessed Urban II, St. Gregory VII, St. Pius V, and St. Pius X—to see more clearly and more deeply? How ardently we wish he would raise such a prayer and lay it at the feet of Almighty God and of Mary, Mediatrix of all graces, Help of Christians… on this side of and beyond the ill-fated Iron Curtain.
Summary
The Catholic Religion has been persecuted in Poland since the communist regime was established there. Does the recent visit of John Paul II to this communist country herald the end of this persecution or its resurgence? Or does it announce to the world that both sides are content with the status quo?
The answer to these questions is important for defining the new pontificate in the face of the most terrible alternative of our time: communism, yes or no?
