The document, the Constitution of the Third of May, presented a model of Enlightenment thinking—I haven’t read it yet—that was developed over time, then promoted and passed by a clique of idealistic Polish nationalists and intellectuals in a rump Sejm, probably without the benefit of a quorum. Even Karl Marx praised it as a singular, progressive effort, a quite unexpected offering from elements of the socio-economic elite. The patriots convinced their king, Stanisław-August Poniatowski, to sign it, much to the dismay of his former girlfriend, Catherine the Great of Russia, who preferred the Poles to misgovern themselves under the workings of their previous constitution, which tended to encourage chaos. The new constitution prompted another uprising, the military direction of which the great hero Kościuszko undertook, with some early success, defeating a Russian army at Racławice, owing largely to “the brave charge of Kościuszko’s peasant scythe-men.” (Davies, I, 539) When historians mention “peasant scythe-men,” or “the Guild of Slaughterers” in passing, we are reminded that more than ink is spilled in revolutions and attempted revolutions. (Davies, 529-546)
There are flags all over the place today, hanging randomly on every street, flying above the Kościuszko Mound, wafting damply over a tower at Wawel, draping the entrance to the Kościół Mariacki, festooning the Rynek; the colors are even worn as raincoats. I ponder the white half of the Polish flag, a flag which signals a humanity more than merely national: is it the blank page on which we write enlightened constitutions, or is it merely the unused rest of the bandage?
National & University Flags Over the Entrance to the Collegium Novum |
Colors at the Blonia, the current greenspace and former drill grounds |
Polish Lancers |
Polish Lancers on the Blonia |
Mickiewicz Monument Donning the Colors |
At Mariacki |
Over the Entrance to Mariacki |