Remembering December ’70
Film: 10:18
The short documentary commemorated the victims of the bloodily suppressed workers’ strikes in Gdańsk in 1970. On the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary, the sculptor Lucyna Kujawa creates eight relief bronze plaques memorialising the places of death of the killed shipyard workers on the streets of Gdańsk. The artist’s contemporary portrait and her work are intertwined with archival materials and stories about the course of the protest, its aftermath and depictions of victims.
Strikes on the Baltic coast in December 1970
A sudden increase in food prices and other essentials sparked strikes of shipyard workers on the Baltic coast in December 1970. Peaceful protests were violently put down by the regime’s military forces resulting in at least 44 people killed and more than 1,000 wounded. The authorities tried to erase the traces of the December protests and their violent suppression. Apart from the single politically correct article, the regime’s media blocked news of the strikes. The victims were doomed to oblivion, buried overnight, sometimes without a funeral and without informing the family.
For a decade, it was impossible to discuss this topic publicly or commemorate the resistance and suffering. But the memory did not fade, and in 1980, apart from wage demands and the right to create free trade unions, erecting this monument was one of the main demands of the nascent Solidarity. The pressure of the opposition and grassroots social movements was so significant that the government had to give up the fight in the war for remembrance. The 42-metre, 139-tonne steel three crosses stood next to the main shipyard entrance gate in Gdańsk.
Archives
During the research for the film, I spent long hours working with the archives relating to the deadly strikes and their aftermath. One of the discoveries of this in-depth work was a close-up at war waged for memory between the regime’s propaganda narration and the society demanding the truth about repressions and crimes. Despite the threat from the authorities, an impressive number of people actively supported the idea of erecting the monument commemorating killed shipyard workers. The scale of care for the memory of victims, demanding the visibility of their fight and suffering, was heartwarming. I felt as if I was discovering an utterly distinct side of our society and travelling to a completely foreign, unfamiliar state of consciousness. The community that emerged in front of my eyes while looking at archival photographs and documents was based on empathy and solidarity, caring for its members, especially the oppressed ones. People were united against alienation, segregation and obfuscation and put a lot of effort into the common good, which is essential for sustaining dignified lives. Their resistance was so strong that the authoritarian government finally had to succumb to it. However, the regime was not ready to plead guilty and revise history but could not stop the grassroots movement and the monument’s construction. The design and implementation were created in a community effort, and the money was collected from public contributions. Shipyard workers made the structure of three gigantic crosses free of charge after hours, and its erection was completed in just a few months.
Lost companion
What happened to the community spirit I could feel while researching archives?
Where are the heirs of this beautiful community now?
Fifty years ago, an intangible force brought people together, making them caring companions and overthrowing a ruthless power.
Now we are increasingly weakened, divided and interested in separating ourselves from the common world.
