Lech Walesa became chairman of Poland's first independent trade union, Solidarity, after leading the historic 1980 Lenin shipyard strike and a wave of subsequent protests against the communist government. In 1981, martial law was imposed and Solidarity was outlawed, but Walesa continued leading the movement underground. He received the Nobel Peace Price in 1983. After the fall of the communist government in 1990, he became president of Poland, a post he held until 1995. Lech Walesa was interviewed for COLD WAR in June 1997. These excerpts have been translated from Polish.

On the origins of Polish anti-communism:

After [World War II] we found ourselves in a Soviet orbit against our will. It was a betrayal, and the nation could not agree to this. They could not agree to the new system. We tried to change it in '56, '70, and '76 -- and each time the people improved their fighting. So we came to the conclusion that the best way to attack communism is "through bread to freedom." And the Pope's visit in 1979 was like a gift from God. It fit ideally with our fight against this terrible communist system, based on lies, falsehoods and manipulation. This gift of God let us once regain the trust in the basic values: the power of truth, the power of freedom. Eventually this made the system collapse. Of course, in practical terms we achieved this by organizing trade unions, hoping that this would lead us to the victory.

From the very beginning of communism, we fought for freedom. But the fight against this communist monster [seemed] really impossible. We could struggle against it only using its own weapons. After all, it pretended to be the people's system: all these slogans -- "peasant-worker alliance, defense of the working class" -- were a lie. We simply exposed these lies to the people and this proved to be most effective weapon.

We knew that our way -- "through bread to freedom" -- was the only feasible [strategy] to use. All other methods would end in tragedy. In the beginning, nobody in the West and East believed that this could possibly work. Eventually it turned out to be the only way to fight communism. Otherwise, if we had tried violence, the use of force, we would have no chance of overthrowing the system. So we worked on perfecting peaceful methods: labor union methods. From the very beginning, freedom was most important for us. And no other way could possibly conquer the system.

I was confident in these methods, and I was ready to use them during the [protests] of 1976. Since 1970, I had been wondering how could I get a bite at communism. I was in charge of the shipyard strike in 1970, and we lost it. So when I was leaving the shipyard I said to myself: "God, give me the strength to come back here and conquer communism. " ...

On Solidarity:

Solidarity was very exceptional. ... Neither students nor workers could do it separately. Only together. And this experience made it possible for us to create Solidarity, to do it together -- but only by being together did we have such force. This never happened in other places; maybe the situation wasn't as difficult. We had the Soviet army in Poland, all around us -- we were surrounded by the Soviet army. So without Solidarity there was no chance; without the Pope, there was no chance. In shooting, in taking power, [the communists] were better and they were better prepared; but they had no arguments. We were talking about truth, and we were pointing out that they were telling the untruth. ...

In 1980, I was ahead of other Solidarity leaders by 10 years, especially in such a issues like leadership, strategy, tactics. I had been the leader of the shipyard strike in 1970. And then those strikes failed, mainly because of my wrong decisions. The next 10 years I spent thinking. In prison, at home, I thought: "What I have done wrong? What could be done better?" -- all kinds of matters. I made up a lot of different scenarios. So when the strike in 1980 happened, I just observed how those scenarios developed. Therefore, I didn't get too emotional, nor I was afraid like the others. I simply had the 10 years of experience in policymaking which others lacked. I watched over events in the Solidarity movement and I could say: "Okay, these things are all right, they fit my scenario; but we should change that..." More or less, it was like playing chess. ...

In 1980 we, the Solidarity leaders, were convinced that communism was dead. Of course, we did not talk about it openly. The tactics were conceived of like this: we preferred action to talking. So we encouraged people to join all our activities, because we knew that even if the communists wanted to take away what they had already granted us, they would never be able to stop that awakened activity of the people -- the [people] would never let them do it. ...

The Polish nation has the ability to fight, lose and still not be conquered. Of course, [initially] the fight was more violent, but as I said, we improved our methods. [It was] about the ideals. A people that never gives up will always be on the alert and fight. Of course, it takes some time. Knowing the military power of the Soviet bloc, many people were not convinced that peaceful methods would work -- but they still believed in the ideas. That's why we preserved the concept of freedom. After awhile it turned out that people liked those methods, and therefore it was bound to be successful. It was just a matter of time and cost: How long would it take and what price would we have to pay? But we were absolutely sure about achieving freedom. So preserving the ideas was like a path to freedom. ...

I once compared our society to mathematical fraction. During communist times we all had a common denominator: the dislike of communism. But our numerators were different. For example, writers were disturbed by censorship, professionals by lack of possibilities of development (especially when you refuse to join communist party), workers by lack of appreciation in the workplace and humiliation, etc. In short, nobody was happy and people wanted change.

On the 1981 declaration of martial law:

I was convinced that eventually we would win, because we knew these violent methods would not be effective. Of course it cost a lot. At the time I worked hard to prevent the division of Solidarity and to prevent any kind of street fighting, any kind of violence. So I was fully convinced that the communists could not possibly overcome us, mainly because of their unsophisticated methods. They would try to do something in the old style, and that would be their failure. Of course I did not talk about this openly, because it was not a thing to be talking about. Before the arrest, I prepared my wife and my children. Of course I hadn't been informed, but seeing the events I could predict what was going to happen. ...

I said to the gentlemen who came to arrest me, "Gentlemen, this is the moment of your defeat. You just hammered the last nails in the coffin of communism." I also said, "One day you will come to me on your knees." That was a little exaggerated, and I regret that, because it was not too clever. People could admit failure, but are less likely to accept humiliation. But it was clear that these two methods do not go together -- that the one who wins will not be the one using violence, but rather the one who uses thoughtful, peaceful strategy. All these fears would have been dangerous 20 years earlier, when development of civil society was in a different place. Earlier, people would attempt to fight the tanks, throw Molotov cocktails, etc. But the communist rulers underestimated the sophistication of their own people. Who knew that you do not win with rolling tanks, but that the secret of victory lies in coordinated political action? So in 1981 they tried to frighten us. ...

I was placed in [prison]. At first, it wasn't a [permanent] internment. I think they expected me to cooperate. ... I think they had come up with following conception: "Walesa is good, but around him are those hawks, those radicals, and he cannot deal with them." [The arrest] was designed to take me from the trade union, then divide the union and eventually dismantle it. That was why I used strong words. I knew the rest of the Solidarity leaders would be put behind bars, and they would let me free. Then their propaganda could suggest that I had betrayed Solidarity. So I had to show that I was also such a hawk -- or even worse -- and there would be no separate deal with me. As long as I was fighting, no union leader could cooperate with communists; he simply would find no followers. That saved our unity.