Monday, Jun. 27, 1983

The Christian Way

In the dimly lit foyer, it is just possible to read the notices that hang on the wall amid posters of Pope John Paul II. One large hand-scrawled message contains a plea for men's shoes of all sizes. Another, more ominously, lists the political trials that are currently in progress. Inside the vestibule, a Franciscan nun in a brown habit tends an old-fashioned telephone switchboard. Off to the side, a room is piled high with boxes containing toothpaste, soap, powdered milk and other items.

The Franciscan convent at St. Martin's Church in Warsaw's Old Town has become an important symbol of the controversy between the Roman Catholic church and the Polish government. It serves as headquarters for the Primate's Committee for Relief to the Families of Those Deprived of Liberty, an organization that provides food, medical assistance and legal advice to those who have been imprisoned or detained by Poland's military government and to their families. In the regime's eyes, the St. Martin's relief committee, which is currently made up of about 170 volunteers, is a textbook case of defiance of the Communist government.

During the street riots that have broken out periodically since the imposition of martial law, the victims of police batons have often sought medical aid at St. Martin's. Members of the committee, however, found that the centuries-old rule that those standing on God's soil were immune from earthly powers was broken with cruel abruptness last month when two dozen young toughs burst into the convent, smashed furniture, vandalized supplies, and savagely beat six committee members. From the minute the men came in, there was little doubt as to their identity: they were openly carrying police walkie-talkies. A few days later, militiamen picked up the teen-age son of a volunteer in another part of Warsaw and severely beat him. He died of his injuries.

The committee, which gives aid to some 300 families in the Warsaw area alone, was created only a few days after the imposition of martial law. St. Martin's has a longstanding tradition of involvement with political opposition; thus the Franciscan convent was a natural gathering place in the aftermath of the military crackdown. At first the committee had difficulty distributing its relief supplies because the thousands of people interned were each allowed to receive only two food packages a month. But church officials intervened, and soon St. Martin's was permitted to deliver additional essential supplies to the political prisoners as long as the packages were earmarked for general distribution. Early this year the Pope wrote a letter to Father Bronislaw Dembowski, the rector of St. Martin's, thanking his group for its efforts.

Committee workers, who include artists, writers, physicians and lawyers, come and go as their time permits. The Franciscan nuns provide the space, the electricity and a bowl of soup for those who put in a full day. Sometimes committee members take up collections, but most of the donations come from abroad, particularly West Germany, Belgium, France, Sweden and Japan. Sympathetic Americans contribute cash, which is used to buy medicine and vitamins.

Although the Polish government generally, if grudgingly, tolerates the committee, members are under no illusions about their status. They insist, however, on the church's right to undertake charitable activities, even under martial law. Says a volunteer: "It is a legal way of defying the authorities, and we want to show that we can deal in a Christian way with the people running this country." This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.