The 60th anniversary of the death of the longest-serving head of government of the Second Republic passed without fanfare. This is a pity, if only because he was the only Polish Prime Minister endowed with literary talent. We should appreciate this. Today, prominent politicians can at most afford tweets and emails.

Felicjan Sławoj Składkowski was able to cope without the help of generously paid ghostwriters and PR-specialists. Poets and columnists Marian Hemar and Juliusz Mieroszewski admired his Polish, while Jan Lechoń compared the autobiographical work of the former Prime Minister to the "Diary" of Jan Chryzostom Pasek, and Zygmunt Nowakowski to Henryk Rzewuski's "Souvenirs of Soplica". SIGN UP TO OUR PAGE

A charming storyteller and a blunt servant

Sławoj made his debut as a writer late in life, at the age of 47. Prior to that, articles on medical topics had come out from under his pen. The success of "My Service in the Brigade" - the two-volume memoirs of the Great War - surprised him greatly, and he was even heartened by the fact that Piłsudski found the book "very entertaining". The author was then holding the post of Minister of the Interior.

Many readers may have felt cognitive dissonance. How is it possible that a sanator and supporter of strong-arm rule is at the same time a charming storyteller, endowed with a wonderful sense of humour - including about himself? Former comrades-in-arms were less surprised. After all, they remembered the young Felician for his guitar playing and his jokes, sometimes macabre (front scene: "What are you shouting about, that one's shot in the head and says nothing, and you're shot in the leg and immediately scream!").

Another work: "Scraps of Reports", published a few months after the Marshal's death, gained an ambiguous reputation. The author's idolatrous attitude to his late boss was all the more striking as the latter treated him rather obsequiously. There were claims that the Prime Minister's book was an unwitting defamation of the Piłsudski regime. However, no one could deny that it was sincere, and in many passages moving.

The war changed everything. Składkowski fell from the pinnacles of power to the bottom of condemnation. He was regarded as a frivolous figure at best. Even before 1939, the Opposition had already branded the General a dull servant (a character Poles loved to laugh at long before the film "C.K. Dezerterzy" hit the screens), a half-fascist and an anti-Semite. Now the allegations have been added to those of the gravest gravity: incompetence and cowardice bordering on treason. Slawoj, co-responsible for the disaster of the state, was to stand trial before a national tribunal. The trial did not take place, but the gloomy shadow of 17 September, when he crossed the bridge over the border Cheremosh River together with the President, ministers and Commander-in-Chief, hung over him for the rest of his life.

The power that was not there

After the deaths of Edward Rydz, Józef Beck and Ignacy Mościcki, Składkowski became the symbol of the last ruling team. He was given credit for other people's mistakes, real and imagined, although his influence on foreign policy or style of command was negligible. However, he behaved loyally - he did not cut himself off from the Sanacja triumvirate; on the contrary, he defended it against opinions that were, in his opinion, unfair.

Another work: "Scraps of Reports", published a few months after the Marshal's death, gained an ambiguous reputation. The author's idolatrous attitude to his late boss was all the more striking as the latter treated him rather obsequiously. There were claims that the Prime Minister's book was an unwitting defamation of the Piłsudski regime. However, no one could deny that it was sincere, and in many passages moving.

The war changed everything. Składkowski fell from the pinnacles of power to the bottom of condemnation. He was regarded as a frivolous figure at best. Even before 1939, the Opposition had already branded the General a dull servant (a character Poles loved to laugh at long before the film "C.K. Dezerterzy" hit the screens), a half-fascist and an anti-Semite. Now the allegations have been added to those of the gravest gravity: incompetence and cowardice bordering on treason. Slawoj, co-responsible for the disaster of the state, was to stand trial before a national tribunal. The trial did not take place, but the gloomy shadow of 17 September, when he crossed the bridge over the border Cheremosh River together with the President, ministers and Commander-in-Chief, hung over him for the rest of his life.

The power that was not there

After the deaths of Edward Rydz, Józef Beck and Ignacy Mościcki, Składkowski became the symbol of the last ruling team. He was given credit for other people's mistakes, real and imagined, although his influence on foreign policy or style of command was negligible. However, he behaved loyally - he did not cut himself off from the Sanacja triumvirate; on the contrary, he defended it against opinions that were, in his opinion, unfair. He insisted that Poland could not have been better prepared for war. Half of the funds went to the military, but Berlin alone had a larger budget than the whole of the Republic. The Germans had more tanks and aircraft, the foreign countries did not want to sell us weapons, and the domestic defence industry was only just beginning. In a year or two we would have been stronger.

The government was aware of the disproportion of forces, but to the very end it displayed official optimism and flexed its muscles so as not to arouse panic and capitulationist sentiment. Hitler put Poland up against the wall, demanding capitulation. Playing for time was simply not an option. Besides, even the West was fooled by Polish superpowerism. In Paris and London, they were shocked by the speed with which the Germans demolished their eastern neighbour. The Prime Minister, like all Poles, hoped for a quick reprieve, but the Allies, apart from declaring war on the Third Reich, did nothing.

Over time, the bad emotions subsided somewhat. The opinion that Poland did not need to be ashamed of the September campaign gained widespread recognition. The fact that adversaries were dying out rather quickly also contributed to lowering the temperature of the disputes.

It was different in Poland. The animators of communist Poland's historical policy did not want to hear about the rehabilitation of Piłsudski's successors.

Boys, follow me!

Sławoj Felicjan Składkowski was born in Gąbin, and was a doctor by profession. He practised as a surgeon and gynaecologist, but in his early youth he became involved with the independence-oriented socialist faction. From this milieu, a straight path led to the Legions (where Sławoj gained the reputation of "the bravest doctor of the First Brigade") and the army of the reborn Republic of Poland. During the war with the Bolsheviks, he was responsible for sanitary matters.

With Józef Piłsudski, in addition to his official subordination, the General had a rather casual attitude to religion. In order to be able to marry the adored Germaine (his second wife, Germaine Susanne Coillot, was French - editor's note), he too changed his religion to Evangelical. When the idol was no longer on the road to democracy, Składkowski quickly adapted to the new course.

During the inaugural sitting of the Sejm in March 1928, the Marshal, in his capacity as Prime Minister, was there to greet those gathered. A group of MPs took the opportunity to chant: "Down with Pilsudski's fascist government!". In response, Slawoj, at the head of a detachment of policemen who had been drafted earlier, burst into the meeting hall with the shout: "Boys, these f.... communists are disturbing the Commander's speech. We'll throw them out, follow me!", which they did, despite the protests of other MPs. After the Head of Government had left, the contestants were allowed to return so that they could take the oath.

As head of the Interior Ministry, Składkowski signed arrest warrants for opposition leaders. He assisted at the last moments of the adored Marshal, and was one of those who carried the coffin out of the Belvedere and then removed it from the carriage. However, he always shied away from being called a politician. He was certainly no democrat. In exile, he confessed that he was annoyed by words beginning with the letter "D" and ending in "Y".

The tectonic movements that followed the Commander-in-Chief's death unexpectedly elevated Edward Rydz -Śmigły. Formally, however, the head of state was Ignacy Mościcki, a figurehead to whom the April Constitution granted powers so broad that a man of stronger character and personality could have seated the General. In the end, the men shared power. What was still needed was an efficient but politically lacking Prime Minister. They did not look far for a candidate. Składkowski had already earned a reputation as a good administrator during his time in the Legions.

Years later, he admitted that he had become a 'makeshift' head of government in 1936. The makeshift, as is often the case, lasted a long time, more than three years.

Better to beat than to shoot

He was a strange prime minister. Completely free of the narcissism characteristic of the Vistula elite, he had no taste for intrigue, banquets or hunting. Instead, he influenced the landscape of Poland, especially the provincial one.

He ordered the sweeping of streets, the painting of fences, the planting of trees, the landscaping of lawns, the whitewashing of village houses and town gutters with lime, and the construction of outhouses, henceforth referred to as "sławojki". As a former army doctor, he was obsessed with hygiene.

Slawoj's fondest memories are in Turek. The Prime Minister cared a great deal about the town where his parents and sister lived and visited it often.

The pro-health policy did not find due understanding in society, but Składkowski was stubborn. Despite his busy schedule in the capital, he tried to maintain "contact with the ground". His unannounced inspections have passed into legend.

On his very first day in office, the Prime Minister sacked a colleague from the Legions, the head of the Łowicz district, for leaving his workplace unjustifiably. In the old fashioned way, he slept in the Ministry of the Interior building, and started his day by checking that all his subordinates were ready for their duties at eight in the morning.

A manifestation of Slawoj's dual subordination was his 'reporting' to Mościcki and Rydz. Ministerial portfolios were handed out before he was offered the Prime Minister's seat. He had the greatest influence over the Interior Ministry, for the simple reason that he kept its head for himself. The economy was handled by the President's man, Eugeniusz Kwiatkowski, diplomacy by Józef Beck (recommended for the post by the Marshal), and power over the military was usurped by Śmigły, who was proclaimed the second person in the state. In 1940, he was to become number one, as Mościcki was heading for retirement.

In this situation, Składkowski saw it as his mission to bring order, security and respect for authority to the country. Protests and demonstrations with a bloody epilogue were the order of the day in the 1930s. Fed up with the President's reproaches that "the police were shooting again", the Prime Minister drew on French models. Officers were taught to disperse crowds without using firearms. Contrary to appearances, the Prime Minister had a rather thin skin and the criticism did not flow down on him like water on a duck. He regretted being called a stupider, but he did not drag journalists through the courts, nor did he send 'unknown perpetrators' against them. To ease the plight of the unemployed, he organised public works.

Horses in the river

The image of a statesman, a hard worker and an anti-communist who was fond of memorably "exterminating abuses and injustice" has partial coverage in the facts, but let us remember that Slawoj, as a writer, had a talent for of self-creation.

He certainly wasn't as much of a do-gooder as he claimed to be. Let us look at the arguments he used. Arresting opposition leaders? Someone had to do it. The pacification of eastern Galicia? After all, it was bloodless. The brutal suppression of a peasant strike? He was abroad at the time. The Bereza camp? A sad but necessary tool for defending the state against German and Soviet agents. Blowing up Orthodox churches? This was the work of military men who felt themselves to be politicians. Why was a Government of National Unity not formed in the face of mortal danger, as in 1920? Because there was not enough time, and it was a bad idea to change horses while crossing a rough river. And so on.

When recalling the Second Republic, Sławoj was full of anecdotes. He assured of the impartiality of the government, while accusing the opponents of Sanacja of demagogy and a desire for bloodshed. He remained silent about electoral fraud, which he had to know about. He condemned anti-Semitic excesses, but was opposed to a settlement with the Ukrainians.

Among the general's literary legacy is a report on the government's actions during the critical September days. The state was tottering under the blows falling from the west, north, south and finally from the east. The government, which on the third day of the war already began to pack up and burn documents, was losing the respect for which Składkowski had worked so hard.

Petrol for Sikorski

The Prime Minister's organisational talent came in handy during the evacuation. On 7 September, at 2 a.m., he left Warsaw ("I take one last look at the Commandant's portrait and descend into the courtyard"). In Lutsk, he tried to control the growing chaos, even when the plan to stop the Germans on the line of the Vistula and then the Bug had failed, he still hoped that the card would turn. Only the Soviet incursion put an end to his illusions.

Składkowski saw nothing wrong with the escape of the government and command to Romania. He personally urged the hesitant Rydz to follow in the President's footsteps. There was, after all, a historical precedent: after the fall of the November Rising, politicians and generals emigrated to coordinate the struggle for sovereignty from Paris. That his compatriots at home, left at the mercy of the enemy, might resent their leaders was somehow not thought of. The bullish slogan "strong, united, ready" was smashed by German tanks.

Then it got even worse: under pressure from Hitler, the Romanian ally interned the ministers, while the French took the opportunity to force the resignations of Mościcki and Rydz. Sławoj wrote an application to join the Polish Army as a doctor. General Sikorski rejected his request, which was a symptom of the vindictiveness and small-mindedness typical of our politicians. Ironically, less than a week earlier, Składkowski had helped the future Prime Minister and Commander-in-Chief when he ran out of petrol in the Romanian wilderness.

In the summer of 1940, Slawoj slipped away from the Romanians, having previously drowned 11 thick notebooks containing detailed notes of his time in state service in a lake and in a hotel toilet. He spent six months in Turkey at Sikorski's will. He was interrogated by an envoy of the commission investigating responsibility for the September defeat. In Palestine, the former prime minister managed to catch God by the feet - he became a sanitary inspector. However, after four months, he was dismissed from the Polish Army, as were other Piłsudski-ites.

The bad, the good, the loser

Condemned to inaction, which was against his nature, Składkowski engaged in one last battle: for memory. For a long time he wrote in a drawer, because the government forbade the printing of the confessions of the "gravedigger of the fatherland".

He spent his last years in London. Żermina was already dead, so he married for the third time - to Tadeusz Dołęga - Mostowicz's sister. Fate can be perverse. The author of "The Career of Nikodem Dyzma" was killed in Kuty, on the road leading to the bridge over the Cheremosh River, the same bridge by which the general had evacuated to Romania three days earlier.

Writing kept Slawoj alive, allowed him to endure the hopelessness of exile. "Administrative Flowers" - a memoir series that the Paris-based "Kultura" did not want to print - was published in the pages of "Wiadomości" ("The News"). Although the former Prime Minister developed his talent as an ironist and stylist, many compatriots were outraged that Mieczysław Grydzewski was lavishing praise on a Sanacja follower.

Składkowski died on 31 August 1962, on the eve of another anniversary of the outbreak of war. Cat Mackiewicz, who had earlier scoffed at the perpetrator of his stay in Bereza, came out with a confession that Sławoj was "a good man, a good soldier and a good Pole". The man himself, in his introduction to the book "Not the last word of the accused", expressed his conviction that history would judge him fairly. He forgot that history is written by the victors.

– Wiesław Chełminiak
-translated by Tomasz Krzyżanowski

TVP WEEKLY. Editorial team and jornalists