FEATURE

Two Conventions

One anniversary is not the same as another. Some are memorable, others forgettable. Some grow in importance, others become less so. Some are grandly celebrated, whilst others are greeted with barely a mention. This is not always the result of bad intent, dishonesty, ignorance or low political motives, but is always - or almost always - the result of "modern day pressures" of new questions to which we can find no answers, and of new signs which we do not know how to interpret. At times, we want to reassure ourselves that the direction we took was the right one, although perhaps more often we want to prove the wisdom of a decision we have already made.

Very little is actually known about the Gniezno convention of 1000 years ago. Source materials are few and far between. Historians rely on generalisations and details, on symbols, gestures and words. One hypothesis contradicts another: Gall the Anonymous versus Thietmar; Thietmar versus Gall the Anonymous. And both present the story in such a way that they "not so much clarify as confuse the matter", as Prof. Jerzy Strzelczyk writes in his recently published book on the subject. Time is assassin. We are not sure we understand, even when it seems that we do. We begin to doubt Descartes. Tried and trusted methods of analysis let us down; induction and deduction fail.

One wonders just why the Gniezno convention fell so quickly into oblivion. Why so few people have made reference to it, why no-one seems to have celebrated its earlier anniversaries. We do not know to what extent it was commemorated 100 or 200 years, or half a century later, nor what opinions, 500 years ago - 8 years after the discovery of America by Columbus - were expressed about the event. Similar to those of today or completely different? Closer to or further from the truth? With whom or what was it associated or compared? How relevant was it, how sympathetically or antagonistically was it seen?

We do know how things looked over fifty, or a hundred years or so ago. Otto III was esteemed by Germany under neither Bismarck, Wilhelm or especially Hitler. He was, after all, more Roman than German. It would be difficult to associate him with pan-Germanism. He was not really a suitable candidate for patron of the Kulturkampf. He placed Germany no higher than any other nation, and as a political visionary was not concerned with Realpolitik. He had not earned a grateful memorial.

Today, Otto III and his universalistic ideal are seen in a different light, arousing respect, recognition and expectation. Moreover, the mirabila mundi ("wonder of the world"), as Otto III was sometimes referred to, is almost seen as a precursor of the European Union. And this in the perspective of its imminent expansion in the eastwards direction of St. Adalbert. Each generation reads history in a different way, hoping, above all, to see in it their own reflection. Europe already has norms and standards for potato chips, shirt sleeves, chewing gum, windscreen wipers and low and hi-fat milk, as well as a limitless quantity of useful and utterly useless products. Yet do we have a common sense of identity, of direction, of culture, which binds not divides us, and of a philosoply valued by all and scorned by none? We do not - comes the reply - though we would very much like to have, since we understand that without it unification will not work. I do not know whether Otto III, Bolesław the Brave and the Gniezno convention can help us with these problems, inspire us or illuminate anything, nor even - although I may make myself unpopular here - whether they are suited to such a role… whether the address has not been a little bit confused, or not found in the place where no-one has long since lived. Yet I do know that Europe craves the idea. That she seeks it, still to no avail, but still aware that find it she must. And Otto III and Bolesław the Brave are symbols of this search. So little…and yet so much.

Waldemar Łazuga