The Katyn massacre of Polish officers and other dramatic developments in Russian-Polish relations in 1939-1941 have occupied the attention of Russian lawmakers on more than one occasion.
These issues sometimes provoke outbursts of raw emotion —a regular feature of Parliaments around the world — and the Polish media naturally shine a spotlight on these outbursts. This kind of reporting overshadows the more numerous positive developments in the two countries' relations. Incidentally, it was the Congress of People's Deputies (Soviet Parliament) in 1990 that acknowledged the existence of secret protocols to the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, which paved the way for an open discussion of Katyn.
True, parliamentary resolutions are sometimes counterproductive. Last year, the Polish Parliament passed a resolution on the 1939-1941 events to mark the anniversary of the September 17, 1939 Soviet invasion of Poland. This resolution contained elements of an accusation of genocide, and my colleagues in the Duma demanded an equally harsh resolution in response. But I tried to persuade my colleagues that we needed to break this vicious circle of blame and recrimination. Ultimately, we limited ourselves to sending a letter to my Polish counterpart, the head of the Polish Parliament's committee on international affairs, which spelled out our position.
Russia's position by no means justifies the execution of Polish officers and intellectuals, which were among the prisoners of war killed in Katyn. However, one point bears mentioning. Judging by the historical documents, Joseph Stalin, who ordered the massacre, did not see the victims as officers, intellectuals or even Poles. Formally, they were equated to Soviet citizens, as Poland had "ceased to exist" as a state by the time they were captured, according to Stalin. They were taken prisoner on a territory that he considered part of the Soviet Union. Therefore, according to the cruel logic that Soviet officials had grown accustomed to, Stalin was free to do whatever he pleased with them.
This logic caused Russians no less suffering than Poles, and it would be unfair to assign collective guilt to present-day Russia or Russians for this tragedy.
Strong words like genocide —a word that is overused these days — certainly pay dividends from a political perspective. But dwelling on this martyr image can become counterproductive, both as it relates to a nation's historical memory and educating young children.
In the case of Russia and Poland, this rule takes a distinct diplomatic form. The issue of apologising for the events of 1956 in Hungary and 1968 in Czechoslovakia has been settled, largely due to wise and sober-minded politicians in both countries who chose not to exploit the issue for political gains.
Only the truth can lift grudges and encourage rapprochement between countries. Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin seems to have found a good partner in Prime Minister Donald Tusk, and the two may be able resolve the issues that have accumulated over time. The Prime Ministers promised to open their national archives to each other in September 2009. The announcement was timed to coincide with the anniversary of the start of World War II. This was certainly an important step in the right direction, but let's not simplify the situation.
Although many documents on the Katyn massacre have been published, the debate over Stalin's true motives for executing the prisoners in February and March 1940 is far from settled. Why did Stalin suddenly put the issue before the Politburo for a formal go-ahead from his pocket Government and order the execution when an earlier plan called for the prisoners to be transported deep within Russia and for some prisoners to be let go? Will the release of a few remaining documents withheld by the Military Prosecutor's Office clarify the matter? Probably not, as the documents in question will not be found in the files of the Politburo or any other high Government body.
