FRONT PAGE
The case of the Archbishop of Warsaw, Stanislaw Wielgus, is by now well known. It provoked a wave of criticism, condemnation and outrage in the mass media. And as always, there’s no shortage of those who say that the Church is in the wrong. But the waters agitated by this affair are also giving rise to some serious questions that had long remained dormant, consigned to the back pages of history. The Polish scandal, so far, has not led to similar resignations in other former satellite countries of the Soviet Union. But questions on the matter are not lacking, nor is the presence of similar collaborators in other countries, even in the higher reaches of the hierarchies. That is no cause for surprise. For the secret police of the Communist regimes was directed by experts of almost fiendish intelligence and cunning. From my direct experience of similar cases I will try to draw some conclusions. One thing, for example, is certain: namely, that the intention of the police was to compromise influential persons, and to glean the necessary information for this purpose they had simple but reliable channels. The tone of outrage used, in the Polish case, by a part of the system of the media served only to compromise and eliminate. However, if looked at in a “providential” perspective, the affair may also serve for the purification of the Church. Humility and courage are needed; and it is by their fruits that the Church shall be known. In some cases, the mass media are more interested in curiosity than in truth. So interest declines after a clear and public stance is taken. In Slovakia, the Institute of the “Memory of the Nation” was founded two years ago. It began to publish the names of collaborators. The Bishops’ Conference then published a Declaration with three key points: “We condemn those who for profit and self-interest betrayed the Church and their fellow-priests; we have compassion for those who yielded to psychological pressure and signed under duress a pledge of collaboration; we trust those who affirm they did not collaborate even if their names appear in the lists”. This clear stance taken by the Slovak Church answered almost all the questions and tranquillised public opinion. In cases such as those of Monsignor Wielgus and others, scattered through the various countries of the former Communist regime, only the “victims” emerge. True, one expects more moral strength and conscientiousness from a priest or from a bishop than from a policeman. But a veil of silence is drawn over the thousands of persons paid to violate the most elementary human rights and to persecute their fellow-citizens. It is the typical “strategy of the thief who cries out: stop thief!”. Today the whole of public attention is focused on one or two bishops, leaving in darkness those who are really guilty for this situation. Even mentioning them would freeze discussion. In Poland the Church has had the courage to speak out. Agreed, let us list all the priests and bishops who acted as collaborators. Agreed, let us ask for their resignation. But at the same time let the names of the secret police be published; they should be prohibited from filling important posts and having the minimum pension. Every compromise with evil means a “betrayal”, as in the case of collaboration with the Communist secret police (collaboration that was often extorted with great cunning and signed without any intention of doing wrong). The Communist bloc was clearly the enemy. But there are far graver compromises, such as abandoning the eucharistic fast, or failing to recite the liturgy of the hours, or compromises in sexual matters. We more readily justify such betrayals, without asking for resignation from our posts. Admitting also this requires humility and courage. “Physician, cure yourself….”.
