From Strikes to Solidarity: The Diffusion of Protests in Poland in the Summer of 1980

Mechanisms of Spontaneous Diffusion (Early July to Mid-August 1980)

In the second half of the 1970s, there were many factors conducive to the eruption of social discontent. The growing phenomenon of relative deprivation was of crucial importance. Since the early seventies, the authorities had been taking steps to modernize Poland based on foreign loans. When the economic recession came, social expectations were still high. And the rapid deterioration of the economic situation triggered social protests—a universal mechanism. ³

In this situation, another price increase introduced at the beginning of July 1980 brought far-reaching consequences and was the direct cause of the first protests. What triggered dissatisfaction in particular plants were usually incidental events. The employees had not planned collective actions beforehand. The strike in Świdnik, according to an anonymous witness, began as follows:

About the guy who started this strike—they say that he was an explosive character, a hothead, and whenever he felt some wrong was done to him, he wouldn’t think twice and just spoke his mind. That day he went to buy a chop in the department bar, and it turned out that chops had gotten more expensive. On top of that, the chop he got was really small. He took it, went to the hall, and said: “Look guys, this costs so much!” He threw the chop and said he would not work. “Guys! We will not work!” He rounded up one or two coworkers, then more people followed. That’s how it began. ⁴

In all the recorded situations, the mechanism was always similar. Meetings were organized during breakfast breaks, and more people were invited to participate. Thus, the protest slowly spread through the entire plant. More and more people abandoned their work; some of them were persuaded by workmates, while others were prevented from working.

Employees who had wide networks of friends and were trusted played an important role in animating protests. Very often, these were the people who, because of their specialization, could move around the entire plant. In a few factories, there were associates of the democratic opposition who knew each other and had been tested in difficult situations. Zbigniew Janas, an associate of the KOR (Komitet Obrony Robotników [Workers’ Defence Committee]), recalled the beginning of a strike in Ursus:

I ran to the locksmiths’ shop. I used a bit of psychology. I say: “Listen, here others have stopped working, and we what? We just keep on reading [Robotnik], and that’s it? And will we just keep on like this?” And they, they are afraid, one can tell. I say: “Listen, decide now—we should stop, because if others stop, then we should too, so we don’t make a fool of ourselves.” We decided to stop working. I run to the plumbers: “Listen, something must be done, the locksmiths said they have stopped . . . .” And with these plumbers we went to the locksmiths. Then I ran to the electricians: “Listen, here are plumbers, locksmiths, something must be done, come with us and let’s talk.” And I got all electricians to the canteen. I told everyone: we’re getting organized. They replied: “OK, we are too.”

In some cases, especially where production was very integrated, it was enough to stop one department to disrupt the work cycle. ⁵ A similar effect was achieved by stopping the delivery of parts, semifinished products, or raw materials. ⁶ When the work was already interrupted, there was a better chance for more people to join the protest. It also opened the possibility of getting other groups of workers who were not convinced or were afraid and did not want to leave their workstations. ⁷

The attitude of the management also influenced the process of mobilization in a plant. In many of the plants, if the management wanted to prevent the possibility of a strike as fast as possible, it quickly yielded to staff demands. Such success could encourage subsequent actions. The workforce of one of the meat plants was not bold enough to organize a protest. They lacked a leader who would take the risk and expose himself or herself to possible consequences. However, one day in mid-July, thirty-five women protested. The demands were so modest that the plant director immediately conceded to them. But a day later, having gotten over their initial fears, a hundred women went on strike, and this time they made more extensive demands. ⁸ Nothing was more motivating than hearing that some others had successfully negotiated their demands: “In the repair department, the head mechanic categorically stated, ‘You will not get as much as the tool shop, only a fifteen per cent bonus.’ Zdzisław Tyszko called the tool-room: ‘Have you got what you wanted?’ ‘We did,’ they answered. ‘It’s got to be the same for us,’ he told the head mechanic. ‘And if not, I will not resume work.’” ⁹ Although the concession ensured a quick end to the protest, it could have, however, contributed to a subsequent escalation, because it showed that taking such an action guarantees success. Every successive person and department joining the protest found it easier to decide to do so. This was influenced by the growing sense of security, and solidarity with the group at large, not least by the presumption that the mass character of the protests would guarantee impunity to the participants.

The above mechanism of the origin of a protest can be transferred to the macro scale to illustrate the spread of protests among individual enterprises. Just as in the case of those plants whose directors tried to end conflicts by conceding to employees’ demands, the party and state leadership too most often made decisions to adopt a consensual strategy. The authorities were convinced that concessions and allocating money for “compensations” were the key factors to calming the situation. ¹⁰ Such an approach, excluding the use of force against protesters, may be surprising in the case of authoritarian states. However, this strategy followed certain long-term trends. The 1970s were characterized by the emergence of new forms of protest and conflict resolution, which Jadwiga Staniszkis has described as “officially unofficial.” The protests were still illegal by law, but the authorities engaged in negotiations with strikers and, after their completion, rarely turned to criminal prosecution. Such a mechanism was commonly used. ¹¹ Sociological research conducted among workers proves that the conviction about the effectiveness of this form of protest was common. ¹² The acceptance of the above model of action by the authorities and strikers meant that the protests were conducted peacefully and within the plant premises. Workers did not escalate conflicts, and the authorities did not react by using the security services and repression. In the summer of 1980, this premise was consistently implemented, which, instead of calming the situation, resulted in an explosion of social rebellion.

What was the mechanism of the spontaneous spread of the protest? In July 1980, the most frequent cases were when a strike action was inspired by a strike in the immediate area; only the channels of dissemination of information about the protest differed. Some were direct: via family members or friends who worked at the factory, by someone gossiping on a bus carrying people to work, or by someone who overheard the story while waiting in line outside a grocery shop. And some were indirect: often, the source of information was Radio Free Europe (RFE), because the official press or national radio kept silent about the protests. Here, the democratic opposition played a great role, creating a network for gathering information about repressions, workers’ initiatives, and strikes. The information it collected was forwarded to RFE. The liaison was Eugeniusz Smolar, who was a BBC journalist. RFE broadcasted this news to listeners in Poland, thus influencing the dynamics of events in the summer of 1980. ¹³

The best example of diffusion in terms of geographical location was the Lublin agglomeration. At the beginning of July, protests were initiated in individual plants; on 16 July, thirty-two plants participated in strikes; a day later, there were sixty; and on the third day, seventy-nine plants and factories were on strike. It was a general strike across the city. ¹⁴ Such a significant impact resulted from overcoming fear and the strikers’ conviction about the effectiveness of protests: “They went on strike—and immediately got a pay rise. Our job is not easier, but you can see how effective a weapon a strike is,” employees of one of the factories explained. A similar motivation was expressed by protesters from Lublin’s Gracja factory: “We knew that several plants in the city had stopped working. Others had dared, and we did not want to be left behind.” This rationale also came up in the oral reports of people working in Lublin’s Azoty: “On Monday, we learned that Kraśnik [factory] was brought to a standstill. Our people were so determined that there was no need for a campaign to strike, just the information that some department had stopped working was enough.” The situation was similar in many plants. ¹⁵ A protest by public transport employees was a contributing factor to this diffusion, with some Lublin factories experiencing shortages in the supply of raw materials necessary for production. ¹⁶ What is more, not only the raw materials but also employees who were left without public transport stopped arriving at their workplaces. While waiting for the buses or substitute transport, people were gossiping and exchanging information about protests. Thus, those who finally got to work were already willing to get involved in the protest.

Inspiration also spread among factories with similar specialization, that is, across the branches of an industry. In a car factory in Bielsko, the workforce of the plant forced the management to start negotiating over pay rises and work mode. This action was triggered by production stoppages caused by parts shortages from the Lublin car factory. When the transport of parts finally arrived, there also was an exchange of information, which further encouraged the protests. ¹⁷ In Biała Podlaska, a group of drivers and mechanics of the Transbud division did not resume work, while demanding wage increases, family benefits, and improvements in the supply of coal and meat. Finally, they stated that they would continue the strike until the crew of Transbud in Lublin went back to work. ¹⁸ The most notable strike, spoken about all over Poland, however, was the strike by railway staff demanding pay rises. It was begun by railway workers from the Szczecin junction, who made reference to their Lublin colleagues. ¹⁹

The Foundation of Solidarity (Second Half of August 1980)

The establishment of the InterFactory Strike Committee (MKS) in August 1980 changed the face of the ongoing social rebellion. Gdańsk was a place that symbolically connoted the social resistance that had taken place in December 1970—victims associated with the shipyard were remembered and the memories of their sacrifice were cultivated during the anniversary celebrations organized by the democratic opposition. The shipyard itself, where the MKS was established, was a gigantic plant employing about fifteen thousand people. It was a convenient place to conduct a strike—it was all fenced up, and every day human traffic and all activities had to go through the gates. The strikers first took control of the plant, announced a sit-in strike, and began negotiations with the authorities. However, this alone would not have been enough to gain broad social support, nor would it in itself contribute to the emergence of a wave of protests. What was crucial was to create ideas, a unique set of values, and a goal for the struggle.

Misagh Parsa, in his book listing examples of revolutions in selected countries, presented an interesting conclusion regarding the role of ideology. According to him, ideology was never the main factor necessary for the occurrence of mass protests. In the cases he described, no single idea was able to mobilize societies. The fuel of social protest was not so much a clear ideology but rather an eclectic message. Thanks to this, each individual participant of the movement could identify with its chosen element. ²⁰ The MKS presented their postulates in the so-called “21 demands” that addressed both political and social issues. These demands were generally read as fair and just and at the same time did not question the foundations of the socialist state. On the contrary, they were about attaining its promises. This was one of the essential processes of the formation of the new community—“the growing awareness of the problems shared by everyone and the belief that someone or something is responsible for the wrongdoing, defines the group’s standpoint and its role in society.” ²¹ When analyzing the mobilization potential of such a message, another factor is important—its resonance. It depends on two factors: the credibility of the presented idea and the power of its impact. The credibility of the presented diagnosis depends on the construction of an ideological framework that is attuned to the recipients’ assessment and on the credibility of those addressing the issue. It is of crucial importance that the interpretation presented must be relatable to the recipients’ beliefs. ²² And the “21 demands” met this criterion. The postulates aptly diagnosed the prevalent social sentiments: a sense of relative deprivation and being stripped of dignity. The credibility of the MKS as those conveying the message grew over time. What contributed to this was the general strike on the Baltic coast and the fact that the authorities recognized MKS as a partner in negotiations.

MKS actively built its position, encouraging protests in other plants and distributing information about strikes. Because of the lack of historical sources and with a few different versions and interpretations available, it is difficult to say who made the decision to “export” strikes. In the Tri-City, almost from the beginning, other plants joined the strike, with the MKS simultaneously agitating for change. Over time, this process gained momentum and began to spread not only in the region but also through the entire country. MKS leaders were aware that gaining broad support from the workers was a necessary condition for a strong negotiating position with the authorities. It should be noted, however, that the MKS role was greater in the mobilization itself than in real control of the protests. At the end of August, the leaders of the strike in the Shipyard were intimidated by the scale of support and appealed to temporarily calm down the strikes. Lech Wałęsa explained that it was “not good for Poland to be terrorized [by the strikers],” ²³ and he believed at the same time that his authority was strong enough for his plea to be effective.

From the very beginning, MKS used various means of communication to disseminate information about the strike. Cassettes and tapes were of paramount importance; recordings of MKS meetings or negotiations with a government commission were publicly replayed in other factories. Romuald Laskowski from Stocznia Remontowa (Repair Shipyard) in Świnoujście recalled the moment when one of the factory delegates brought in tapes with recordings from Szczecin. ²⁴ Another strike participant remembered what a treasure it was to have the equipment: “There was a tape recorder and what is more interesting, the reports from Gdańsk were recorded and later replayed many times.” ²⁵ Audio transmission was possible not only via tape recordings—the negotiations of 26 August were already broadcast on ultra-short wave radio on Gdańsk Panorama Radio. MKS itself used a radio station, through which information about the situation in the country and talks with the commission were broadcast. ²⁶ Through the radio waves, MKS meetings were also broadcast, resolutions and information were read, there were warnings against potential threats, and every piece of information that was in the strikers’ interest was also reported.

Radio Free Europe played a significant role as a broadcaster. “Almost all workers are very interested in information provided by radio stations in Western countries,” a special services official reported. ²⁷ Domestic media, controlled and censored, turned strikers toward foreign broadcasts by their biased approach. ²⁸ RFE was listened to collectively, with people gathering around radio devices. Even those who had not listened to it before got drawn into the circle of listeners. “I’ve never been a fan of this radio station, but I got into the spirit of it now [that everyone is listening], because at the end of the day you need to get your information somewhere,” recalled a participant of the strike. ²⁹

Leaflets and newsletters were another means of communication between the coast and the rest of the country. Bronisław Geremek recalled the inundation by the strike press as follows: “Publications outside the reach of censorship created a real press empire.” ³⁰ The bulletin issued by MKS was printed daily with a circulation of fifty thousand copies. Leaflets and newsletters were first distributed in the coastal cities, but from a certain point on, dissemination over the entire country became a priority. One of the agents of the security apparatus reported that “practically only those people who took bibuła (the underground press, literally: tissue paper) to distribute in other centres could receive the materials. Only minimal quantities were circulated in the shipyard and the Tri-City.” ³¹ Especially for this purpose, a “distribution group” was set up, but ordinary people also participated in the circulation of printed material. ³² There were various ways of doing so: women’s handbags, passenger cars, ambulances, suburban and long-distance trains, as well as sea-going tugs. In this way, new independent social communication networks were created.

Newsletters and leaflets flooded throughout the country. Political police and party apparatus assessed that printed materials from the Gdańsk MKS calling for solidarity with strikers appeared in Wrocław, Lublin, Siedlce, Rzeszów, Bydgoszcz, Toruń, Warsaw, and Płock. This list should probably be much longer. Some of the leaflets and newsletters were sent via mail or in parcels from friends and family from the Tri-City. ³³ Workers from all over the country sought contact with the coast. Thus, a significant change took place in comparison to the situation in July. MKS tried to stimulate protests by using the available technical means to promote its fight for the “21 demands”. Gdańsk and the Shipyard started transforming into a symbol of resistance recognized throughout the country. They soon became an inspiration to act; establishing direct relations among workers played an important role in this process.

In the theory of social movements, “change agents”—individuals who are able to convince their circle to undertake game-changing actions—play a significant role. ³⁴ From the analysis of source documents regarding the strikes of August 1980, and the initial period of the creation of Solidarity, an image emerges where people who served as liaisons between MKS and their own groupings were crucial elements. This corresponds to the research on social movements, where important roles may be played by “brokers,” that is, individuals creating links between people or groups that otherwise would not have contact with each other and are not connected in any way. Such a liaison creates a link between them; with their help, communication is established, and ideas start flowing. ³⁵ I divide those agents into two groups: political tourists or political emissaries.

Tourists found themselves on the Baltic coast by accident, and they passed on information about the events observed casually, not counting on any particular success. They were often responsible for the distribution of leaflets throughout the country. Some of them spent their holidays on the coast and, when returning to their homes, took leaflets and newsletters. Sometimes, things happened by chance. For example, a group of workers from Kielce brought a list of the “21 demands” in the form of “a leaflet thrown into a train at a railway station in Gdansk, when they were returning from summer holidays.” Tourist traffic was of great importance, as well as people arriving to see what the strike was all about, and to support the strikers. They took with them bundles of leaflets, information about how to strike, and the conviction that it would be worth fighting for one’s rights. Sometimes, people who were involved in protests in their home regions visited the coast. The stories brought by political tourists fuelled the strike atmosphere in factories throughout the country. The PZPR (Polish United Workers’ Party) unit from Lenin Steel Works noted that “continuation of strikes in ports and shipyards on our coast has a negative impact on social climate in the factory and the mood of the workforce. This is evidenced by frequent conversations on this subject and the spread of sensational news from the coast overheard by people who had visited that region in recent days.” ³⁶

Political emissaries, unlike tourists, had a specific purpose, and they were not random people. Those who were sent, for example, from Gdańsk to other centres, were to help spreading news about protests and gaining support for their postulates. Those who went to the seaside from other protest centres wanted, on the one hand, to express their support for strikers and, on the other, to ask for support. In this group, there were sometimes individuals spontaneously involved, but more often they were part of a collective action—plants or factories that protested or announced strike readiness and selected their delegates through voting. Members of such delegations were provided with instructions, and colleagues expected their return with information or at least some signals from them. Emissaries were more influential than tourists because they were not accidental people but were chosen to become brokers. Protesters from all over the country were sending emissaries to the coast, who then returned with sufficient know-how; sometimes they resided temporarily in the north and contacted their workplaces by phone. When Warsaw Steel Works joined the strike, one of the first postulates was to allow its delegation to go to Gdańsk and for the management to make sure that the travel there and back was safe. ³⁷ Metal Works Ursus too sent its delegation to Gdańsk. Their member Emil Broniarek recalled their arrival and meeting with the MKS: “The guards were checking our documents. ‘Why so late?’ they ask us and then kiss us. We are all crying. Finally, we say, ‘Ursus is with you.’ . . . . They bring us to the BHP (Health and Safety) hall. Welcome, greetings, we approach the microphone one by one: ‘Gdańsk’s postulates are our postulates.’” ³⁸ Sometimes, it was not even about getting help from the coast but simply about establishing contact, sharing the information that other plants in Poland also were on strike. When the strike began in the “Manifest Lipcowy” (July Manifesto) mine in Jastrzębie [in southern Poland], the miners wanted to communicate with the coast by phone. Because telephone communication was cut off, they sent several couriers. ³⁹

The MKS not only received delegates but also itself tried to establish contacts and send emissaries. ⁴⁰ Their role was described by Waldemar Ban:

A man who spent some time in the shipyard felt confident, energized and convinced that everything would work out as hoped. The determination of these people, these letters, and solidarity visits. . . . In such excitement I just returned to my plant, Selfa, and there was a completely different atmosphere . . . . You have to start by sitting down with people, explain a few things, and it’s best to take a tape with a recording from the shipyard, play some fragments of these fiery discussions and build up their spirits. ⁴¹

MKS sought to maximize support for the strike by building up cooperation among other protest centres and urging them to become involved in the protest. The Regional Committee of PZPR in Szczecin was concerned about the phenomenon they witnessed: “by telephone, by distributing leaflets and sending ‘emissaries,’ the crews of workplaces are called to stop working. The available information suggests that these activities often find a fertile ground.” ⁴² Party activists from the aforementioned Lenin Steel Works reported: “In the last afternoon and night, we had a number of attempts at contact via telephone from cities located in the northern part of Poland.” Provincial committees of the PZPR sent information in an alarming tone about emissaries from the Coast. A strike began in Toruń’s Towimor, which, in the opinion of the PZPR Regional Committee, “strongly resembled strikes organized by Solidarity. It was quite clear that the ringleaders of the strike were primed by emissaries from the Coast. They made it back home early with the support of family members and colleagues working on the Coast. One can tell by the postulates, a similar system of organizing a strike . . . ; the postulates generally are very much the same as the demands of shipyard workers.”

The new social network and the independent flow of information inspired all workers to act. Regardless of whether the individual centres, factories, and plants from all over the country managed to establish permanent communication with Gdańsk, the information coming from the coast pushed people to action, or at least to express solidarity. Throughout the country, there were numerous cases of distribution of locally printed leaflets calling for support of the strikes in Gdańsk. The Security Service reported that many leaflets were found with such slogans printed on them: “Long live free Gdańsk,” “Thank you, shipyard workers,” “Long live brave Gdańsk,” “To Gdańsk—hearts, thoughts, actions,” “Poland has not yet died in Gdańsk,” “Peace suits those who’ve been suited—long live restless Gdańsk,” “We stand in solidarity with Gdańsk shipyard workers,” “We will help Gdańsk.” ⁴³ Chalk and paint inscriptions appeared on the streets and in workplaces, for example, in Wałbrzych: “We are with you,” “Long live Gdańsk and other cities of the coast,” or in the Lenin Steel Works: “We support the shipyard workers and their demands,” “We support the strikes.” In Olsztyn, these inscriptions were seen on city walls: “Together with the strikers” and “Freedom to Poland—we stand with Gdańsk.” In most cases, leaflets of the strike committee from Gdańsk were distributed in the region. ⁴⁴ There were various writings on the walls in the Nowosądecki region calling for the support of strikers on the coast, including “We support the coast, down with the USSR,” “The matter of the Baltic coast is a matter for the whole nation,” “We support the coast,” “Why are you not striking?” ⁴⁵ Inscriptions expressing solidarity with the strikers appeared everywhere, including buildings of party committees. ⁴⁶ This affected general sentiments, regardless of whether protests occurred directly in any given region. There were so many writings on walls that the militia was forced to change the typical procedures that had been in force. Until then, photographic documentation was made before the text was removed, but when so much graffiti appeared, this became impossible, and the militia and local authorities were ordered to paint over them immediately. ⁴⁷

A frequent phenomenon among the strikers was to follow cues from the Gdańsk “21 postulates”; such cases were recorded in many regions. ⁴⁸ The strongest manifestation of support for the cause fought for by MKS were plans to launch solidarity strikes. There were factories like the Koszalin’s “Transbud” that stopped working without stating any demands, but only in a gesture of “solidarity with the strikers in Gdańsk.” ⁴⁹ In the Lublin region, where the majority of strikers received wage increases, workers showed support for Gdańsk anyway, and they voted to strike. In some regions, support for Gdańsk was perceived in terms of a struggle to improve the situation in the country. In the Krosno region, “the stance among the staff in many workplaces was that strikes demonstrate their approval for the actions on the coast and it expresses their will to serve in the best interest of Poland.” In the long-term perspective, Gdańsk was perceived as the leading power of future trade unions: “In factory strike committees and the MKS in Wrocław there were declarations that they were the stirring of future free trade unions, with the headquarters to be located in Gdańsk, [that’s why] the strike committees’ stand is that resuming work depends on a successful completion of talks on the coast.” ⁵⁰

The political police felt helpless when facing this mass phenomenon. First, in August they targeted and then detained more than 140 democratic opposition activists who were suspected of inspiring strike actions. This, however, did not stop the wave. The Security Service also tried to isolate both the shipyard and Gdańsk itself with a cordon, but it did not help much either. Attempts were made to stop “all people from the Coast, especially from the Gdańsk area, who sojourn [in other regions] without a specific purpose. They have to give a detailed explanation and the reasons why they came to our area.” ⁵¹ This also did not bring the desired effects. The specially appointed staff devised plans to raid the shipyard and capture the leaders of the MKS, but the plan was not accepted by the party leadership, who were afraid of uncontrolled development of the situation. Rapid social mobilization thus overwhelmed the authorities.

How Was Solidarity Established? (September 1980)

The agreement ending the strike included a guarantee from the authorities permitting independent trade unions to be established. The MKS was transformed into an InterFactory Founding Committee of Independent Self-Governing Trade Unions (MKZ NSZZ). As of September 1, leaders of the strike began work on the foundation of a regional trade union organization. Initially, they had no ambition to organize nationwide structures. They only planned to establish a trade union for the coastal region. However, after such broad support for the strike, Gdańsk could not exclude the rest of the country, where local NSZZs were already being set up in numerous centres. The way the new trade unions were organized depended on whether a strike committee had been set up at a given centre during the August strikes or not. If so, the pattern was to transform the strike committee into a union founding committee. Ireneusz Krzemiński, who researched workplaces in Warsaw in the year of 1980, noted that

in industrial plants that took strike actions in the summer of 1980, some loose organizational structure existed in the form of strike committees. Sometimes these committees were institutionalized. . . . In some plants strike committees were also formed at the end of August 1980—as a support for the 21 demands, in case the negotiations had not reached an agreement. In general, these committees were voted in by workers in a more or less formal way. . . . Wherever there were people with an established reputation of leaders and representatives of collective interests, they very quickly got organized. ⁵²

The other group included factories where workers did not protest. There, one of the most important breakthrough events was the signing of the August agreements. Influenced by information about this event, workers began to ask questions about the results of the negotiations concluded on the coast and their possible impact on their situation. In those plants, the formation of new union structures was slower and often needed support from representatives of these regions where the unions were already functioning.

The trade union movement went through processes of searching for contacts, exchanging information and establishing cooperation with other regions. Ireneusz Krzemiński noted that in Warsaw factories during the initial stage of organizing unions, “generally the [still] informal leaders of NSZZ were frantically trying to communicate with other plants, especially those with a symbolic role.” ⁵³ This trend was characteristic also of other cities. Representatives of smaller plants sought support from larger ones that had strike experience. What is more, the search for contact with the “symbol” of the strike was also visible at the national level. The movement that was initiated in August did not disappear. Numerous delegations from strike and founding committees arrived in Gdańsk, which became a symbol of change and the centre of support after signing the August agreements. Lech Wałęsa claimed that more than a hundred representatives of various plants from all over Poland came to see him every day. They asked for instructions and advice; in addition, these representatives informed him about the persecutions they encountered from the authorities. They appealed for support from the Gdańsk MKZ. ⁵⁴ In September, according to a report by the MKZ, 2,060 founding committees from all over the country were registered in Gdańsk. ⁵⁵

In WSK Świdnik (an aircraft production plant), delegates who had been sent to Gdańsk and spoke directly with Wałęsa gave their reports at the organizational meeting of the new unions. ⁵⁶ On September 6, representatives of FSC Lublin (an automotive factory) and a newly appointed staff council at the Lublin PKP (Polish State Railways) junction left for Gdańsk. ⁵⁷ When the talks between the party leadership and the voivode with the employees of the marine hydro-technology construction company Energopol IV in Grudziądz remained unresolved, the workers decided at first to ask the founding committee of NSZZ in Grudziądz for help, and then it was decided to send a delegation to Gdańsk and report the case directly to Lech Wałęsa. ⁵⁸ On September 1, a delegation of representatives of strike committees from numerous workplaces returned to Krosno. The group brought newsletters and leaflets from the coast; its members talked about their experience of working with the MKS. They announced that if all workers’ demands were not met within fourteen days, then the strike would be resumed. According to the KW (regional committee), wage increases as well as social and political demands were made in many factories; however, the political postulates were limited to establishing NSZZ. ⁵⁹ In Elbląg, there were many people who allegedly “had been trained in Gdańsk.” ⁶⁰ In Wałbrzych, at the meeting of delegates forming the NSZZ in various plants, one of the points to discuss was the statute of new trade unions. The chairman of the founding committee, Jerzy Szulc, went to Gdańsk to arrange this matter. ⁶¹

A meeting of delegates of new trade unions from all over the country, which took place on 17 September 1980 in Gdańsk, was an event of historical importance. The meeting was to coordinate the activities of newly formed regional trade union organizations. As of 12 September, Lech Wałęsa in his talks with the authorities took a very clear stance regarding the repression of union activists in other regions. He stated in a telephone conversation with the voivode of Gdańsk, Jerzy Kołodziejski, that “if it goes on like this, there will be a general strike.” ⁶² A day later, Wałęsa met with the voivode and the Minister for the Agricultural and Heavy Machinery Industry, Andrzej Jedynak. He informed them that a national congress of delegates from the founding committees of NSZZ was planned for 17 September; the aim of this congress was to establish a federation and to approve the statute. On 17 September 1980, when NSZZ delegates from all over the country gathered in Gdańsk, they already represented a significant force—a dozen or so regional organizations acting for three million employees. Many of them expected Gdańsk MKZ to initiate the establishment of a trade union organization. Gdańsk did not want to do this but eventually had to yield to the delegates of other trade union organizations from across the country, who saw a fair chance to confront the authorities with a powerful organization standing behind them. This is how “Solidarity” was born.

The first collective action of the new union was a strike on October 3 in defence of the previously negotiated pay rises. On that day, all crew went on strike in 1,020 plants, in 760 other factories the staff partially stopped working, and in another 1,000 plants other types of actions were undertaken, such as hanging flags, turning on sirens, and wearing bands. Most factories went on strike in the following regions: Gdańsk, 279; Katowice, 242 (including 53 coal mines); and Wroclaw, 114. Many universities across the country joined this strike action. ⁶³ The mobilization was greater than during the August strikes. This was a manifestation of the power and significance of the union. In retrospect, Andrzej Gwiazda described it as the most successful strike of Solidarity:

The rapid development of Solidarity was a surprise. Initially, it looked as if the authorities did not at all consider the necessity of implementing the agreements. Apparently, according to experienced strategists, the widespread euphoria should have turned into a deep disappointment just a month later, due to the lack of effects of a victory. To break the resistance of the authorities, a month later, on 3 October, the KKP (National Coordinating Committee) decided to conduct a four-hour general strike, one that included the whole union. It was the most successful strike of Solidarity. In Gdansk, at the signal of sirens beginning and ending the strike, one could readjust the time. It was similar throughout the entire country. ⁶⁴