Książka wydana we współpracy z Instytutem Studiów Politycznych Polskiej Akademii Nauk.
Dla tysięcy młodych ludzi, którzy w marcu 1968 roku zaprotestowali przeciwko partyjnej dyktaturze, udział w buncie był doświadczeniem przełomowym. Studenckie strajki i manifestacje zmieniły ich sposób widzenia świata i ukształtowały życiowe ścieżki. W ten sposób wyłoniła się generacja, która później stworzyła KOR i uformowała oblicze Solidarności. "My, ludzie z Marca" to pierwszy taki portret pokolenia ’68 – potoczysta opowieść stworzona na podstawie kilkudziesięciu nigdy niepublikowanych wywiadów autobiograficznych. Książka ukazuje życiorysy bohaterów od dzieciństwa aż po rok 1989; przedstawia losy zarówno legendarnych opozycjonistów, jak i mniej znanych buntowników z Warszawy, Krakowa, Wrocławia, Gdańska. Zawiera biografie działaczy urodzonych w rodzinach komunistycznych i AK-owskich, ludzi o różnych poglądach politycznych i różnym stosunku do przemian Okrągłego Stołu. Książka próbuje też odpowiedzieć na pytanie o miejsce polskiego buntu w ogólnoświatowym proteście młodzieży 1968 roku.
8 ꙳ jak czytałam tę książkę na przystanku to pani mi zwróciła uwagę, że ja czytam "taką poważną" literaturę, a ona gada o labubu (puenta taka ze jej wstyd było trochę??) oczywiście nie uspokoiłam jej tylko potwierdziłam, że mam nielimitowany swag i że in fact powinna się wstydzić. gdyby każda książka miała taką bibliografię...
This is a book about young heroes who, in the face of evil, the explosion of a supernova star, the movement of the October Revolution, would have been praised. But after a decade of corrosive totalitarian rule, they could have become mere instruments of oppression, but they were too faithful to the truth.
Before the war, the term "generation of legions" was used. During the Polish People's Republic, there was talk of the "generation of Columbuses" (from the title of Roman Bratny's book) who fought in the Warsaw Uprising, the "generation of natives" born in communist Poland, the "ZMP generation," and the "October '56 generation." Over time, distinctions also began to be made between the "December '70 generation," the "Solidarity generation," and the "'89 generation." The closer we get to the present day, the more generational formations become: for the Third Polish Republic period, at least a dozen names for different generations were coined, often guided more by journalistic intuition than sociological reflection.
"Generation of Natives" (digital natives) is a term describing people born in the digital age, who have been immersed in the world of the internet, smartphones, and social media from a young age. Unlike older generations, who had to adapt to technology, digital natives treat it as their natural habitat, and access to information and online communication are their primary forms of contact with reality.
The "ZMP Generation" refers to people who came of age in the first post-war years in Poland, a period of strong communist indoctrination, when the Union of Polish Youth (ZMP) was a ubiquitous organization that shaped the minds of young people and influenced their future. This term refers to young people who entered adulthood under the influence of ZMP ideology, a tool of the communist party.
The "Legion Generation" most often refers to a group of people, especially poets and other artists, who worked during World War I and were associated with Józef Piłsudski's Polish Legions or their ideas, which had a profound impact on national consciousness and the fight for independence. In a broader sense, the term can also refer to participants in Jan Henryk Dąbrowski's older Polish Legions in Italy.
The Columbus Generation is a Polish generation of writers and artists born around 1920, for whom World War II became a formative event in their youth and maturity. The name comes from Roman Bratny's novel "Columbowie. Born in 20" (Columbowie. Born in 20) and refers to their role as "discoverers" of a free Poland, who in reality found themselves in the midst of war and had to grow up prematurely. The work of this generation, which included Krzysztof Kamil Baczyński, Tadeusz Borowski, and Tadeusz Różewicz, is dominated by themes of war, the crisis of values, and cruelty (my school anthem mentions this generation). < 3
Gomułka's Thaw: The October '56 Generation
The "December '70 Generation" refers to young people, workers, and students, who participated in protests and strikes on the Polish Coast in December 1970, demanding, among other things, the cancellation of food price increases. These events, known as December '70, culminated in the brutal suppression of the protests by the militia and military, who opened fire on the workers, killing dozens and injuring over a thousand.
In 1970, American researcher Margaret Mead created a typology consisting of three patterns of cultural transmission. She distinguished "postfigurative cultures, in which children learn primarily from their parents; cofigurative cultures, in which both children and adults learn from their peers; and prefigurative cultures, in which adults also learn from their children."
Her ethnographic work demonstrated that cultural norms, not innate biological differences, shape development, particularly in areas such as adolescent sexuality.
Although Mead noted that postfigurative education is specific to primitive, pre-modern societies, the '68 generation, seen through the lens of her work, exemplifies precisely this model of upbringing. As I mentioned at the outset, unlike young Germans or French, young Poles did not declare war on the social norms established by their parents' generation. From their fathers and mothers, they not only learned the principles of distinguishing between good and evil, but sometimes also received practical advice on how to fight the system. "My second father taught us [...] that you have to be a communist," recalled Marta Petrusewicz. - And of course, a communist is always there for everything and oppressed and in prison - so you have to be prepared! And he told me: - Don't smoke, because if you're in prison, they'll take your cigarettes and have a reason to blackmail you! - Remember, if you're in prison, they can take your pillow.
Listen to Radio Luxembourg (if you could catch it), or listen to a bit of Radio 3. Actually, if you'd waited four hours at the Moscow cinema, you could also go see a movie. But the truth is, people learned from books—the house was full of books, so you read them. The stories of book collections are often ingrained in family histories. In Włodzimierz Pańków's borderland home, the library had been built over several generations, and its contents reflected the multicultural character of Eastern Galicia—it included works written in Polish, Ukrainian, Russian, German, and Yiddish. When, after 1939, keeping books in different languages at home became unsafe, primarily due to the intense UPA activity in the area, my grandfather and father hid them in the empty hives next to the house (the bees, which had no food to feed during the war, had died out). Pańków remembers that as a child, he would walk from hive to hive with a stool, taking out books and reading, or at least looking at pictures – he only learned Polish after returning to Poland.
And that was the first day, and it was normal for such arguments to be used. Most students joined in "because they were beating our guys." Such were the beginnings. Only later did we understand that we were also fighting for freedom and democracy.
We felt that there were many of us and that we were united for an important cause. Then, as we started to disperse, a labor activist arrived in a bus and the beatings began. And it was a shock. It was the first time the police had ever entered the university, violated the inviolability of university territory, and they were beating us, so what was happening?! We were completely stupefied. It's no coincidence that one of the key words repeated in reports from the rally is "shock." Young graduates of the "small stabilization" movement believed in clear and predictable rules for the functioning of the state.
Henryk Jabłoński's Adam Michnik and Henryk Szlajfer were removed from the list for what?
On March 4, 1968 (alongside Henryk Szlajfer), he was finally expelled from the university for informing French reporter Bernard Margueritte about a demonstration against the censors' removal of a production of Adam Mickiewicz's "Forefathers' Eve," directed by Kazimierz Dejmek, from the stage of the National Theatre.
"The Free Republic of the University of Warsaw" is the unofficial name used to describe the student revolt at the University of Warsaw in March 1968, which was a reaction to student persecution and censorship, specifically the removal of the play "Forefathers' Eve," directed by Kazimierz Dejmek. On March 8, 1968, students organized a rally that was brutally suppressed by the militia, initiating the so-called "Forefathers' Eve." The March events, a wave of student protests across the country, suppressed by the communist authorities using anti-Semitic and anti-intelligentsia propaganda.
So what, these students, playing games like dogs, had letters in a matchbox, instructions on what to say during the hearing to get a lighter sentence.
A colonel received this boy at the hearing, and what? He told him that if he arranged to meet him privately, he would release him. And when he came to the meeting, the Volga, from under the Barbican, caught him, and at the meeting he had to get out of the way to avoid being a snitch, because it was just about two meetings and that was it—such platitudes. He defined it as saying that he couldn't have such a shadow inside, within himself.
Those kids in March '68 were singing the Marseillaise on the rooftops; they were so "spiritual" with the folk spirit that they felt like a reaction. But more like a heroic unity with the people.
Why not?" because I'm starting to get stubborn with him. "Sir, let's imagine that I agree, make an appointment or sign, contact you twice, and then no more." And he told me himself: "Sir, it's nothing more, you'll meet twice, say something, and then the competition is over. I have experts for that, not you." Of course, it didn't occur to me to ask why he cared so much about it. [...] "But I'll have a line inside, I'll have a blemish, I'll have a crack, I'll have such a scratch.[...]" "Ah, Mr. Gingerbread Man, these are such sentimental mental pieces." "I guess so, but I'll have it. [...] I can't imagine living with the awareness of such a shadow inside.That's why I can't." He was very angry at such an argument. And he says: "Yes, but you drank coffee at someone else's expense." I was very ashamed of myself, but I already knew that he knew he couldn't handle me. [...] He said: "I'll see you again at the trial, you bastard." And he drove away.
Narracja za bardzo przypomina mi rozprawę naukową - co mi akurat przeszkadza, że jest strasznie sucho... ale książka to kopalnia wiedzy, jeśli kogoś interesuje ten okres.