The young hippie Andrzej Kołakowski and his future wife Ania met Anna Walentynowicz during a strike. Her younger namesake, Ania, was the youngest prisoner under Jaruzelski’s regime – she was imprisoned at the age of 17. Everything about this story is romantic: here’s a 22-year-old guy winning an award at the Author’s Song Festival in Hybrydy, with a great career ahead of him! Alma-Art, later run by Włodzimierz Czarzasty, offered him a rarity in the Polish People’s Republic – a free guitar! And money. If only he would join the right youth organization. Kołakowski mocked the offer, because he loved Poland. And genuine art, not the made-to-order drivel – writes Piotr Lisiewicz for Niezalezna.pl. Below the article, one can watch a unique interview with the late Andrzej Kołakowski in Interview with a Hooligan (VIDEO).
“We had known each other for years, we took part in many initiatives commemorating the Cursed Soldiers. He was always where he was needed – faithful to his principles, with Poland in his heart,” wrote the President of the Republic, Karol Nawrocki, after Andrzej Kołakowski’s death.
That was Andrzej’s conscious choice. The temptations to pursue a comfortable career on the other side were strong. Taking second place at the National Author’s Song Festival in Hybrydy in 1984 – for a 22-year-old, it was like catching God by the leg. Meaning, it was better not to believe in God back then, but otherwise, the metaphor fits. From Hybrydy, the natural path led to Opole or Trójka, with Monika Olejnik and Marek Niedźwiecki, whose chart was listened to by half of Poland.
A career – meaning empty laughter. “These letters somehow bother me, damn it.“
Andrzej Kołakowski talked about what happened after that success in Interview with a Hooligan (watch below!) with his wonderful sense of humor and flair:
Alma-Art was a kind of student art agency. They told me: “Listen, we’ll buy you a guitar.” A guitar was a dream back then! “So we’ll buy you a guitar, pay you money, but every six months you’ll have to write a song.” I thought: “I can handle that” (laughs). Then the guy says to me: “But you know, you have to join the Association of Polish Students (ZSP).” I said: “Oh, thanks, but no thanks.” He replied: “Man, you don’t get it. Those three letters ZSP bother you?!” “Yeah, they do, damn it.” And so I didn’t make a career.
After his captivating performance, there were more offers for the young man. “At the festival, Andrzej Zaorski approached me and invited me to sing in his cabaret. I didn’t even realize Zaorski was part of the left, but for some reason I declined. And I’m glad I did,” he recalled.
Unlike Kołakowski, Konrad Materna, future leader of KOD Band and winner of a similar Student Song Festival in Kraków, chose a career with Alma-Art. He later went to Opole, but recently spent three and a half years in prison after being convicted twice for human trafficking. The Supreme Court overturned the verdict in 2021.
Many prominent musicians also made careers at Alma-Art – a powerful enterprise employing a thousand people, later headed by Czarzasty. Yet few of them in the Third Republic managed to free themselves from those dependencies and stand on the side of independence. Without condemning them wholesale, it’s worth noting two of Andrzej’s traits: uncompromising integrity and tremendous courage.
“In air sticky with lies”
True art, not trash? For Kołakowski, that meant Jacek Kaczmarski, Vladimir Vysotsky, and Karel Kryl. Andrzej said that he differed from Kaczmarski and Kryl in worldview, since they didn’t believe in God for a long time. Yet he spoke of their work with admiration. After Karel Kryl’s death, Kołakowski wrote:
“Over the Charles Bridge, dusk is falling / And the saints look on with sorrow / For Karel has come one step closer to heaven / Karel leaves his city behind / He departs as before / Into an unknown world / His passport once more one-way / Salome will dance before the gate… / He leaves as he came, without fanfare or color / Without needless noise / He wanted to sing again / To stand guard once more / But time ran out.”
Andrzej Kołakowski stood guard. I remember one of the first Fan Pilgrimages to Jasna Góra, the one demonized by the media, called by the fans’ chaplain – now chaplain to the President of Poland – Father Jarosław Wąsowicz. It was 2010. After Communion, Andrzej Kołakowski appeared unexpectedly at the altar, singing movingly with his guitar:“In air sticky with lies, on ground slippery with blood / people sought crumbs of a nation, looking at the world through tears…”
There weren’t many well-behaved boys in the chapel – mostly football fans, some just out of prison. The media mocked Smolensk and those “conspiracy nuts” talking about an attack. Some of the guys probably joined in those jokes… Putin? Still widely excused back then – what did a quarter million murdered Chechens matter, or where Chechnya even was… But after Kołakowski’s song, silence fell. Then applause. Someone had sung everything we thought, or maybe hadn’t yet thought but now understood – because it lived in us, along with all the history of our parents, grandparents, and Homeland…
Ania, Andrzej and Karol
Anna and Andrzej Kołakowski and Karol Nawrocki were seen in Gdańsk as an inseparable team. Ania and Andrzej were 19 years older than Karol. Born in 1983, the son of a Gdańsk Shipyard worker, Karol was too young to witness Solidarity with his own eyes, so he absorbed its spirit from them. Ania was 15 when she came to the gates of the striking shipyard. At 17, she received a three-year prison sentence combined with the loss of civic rights. Long-haired Andrzej, instead of pursuing a career in Czarzasty’s organization, chose to print and distribute underground publications, working with the much older Jerzy Targalski and Jacek Kwieciński in the Liberal Democratic Independence Party (LDPN).
Ania and Andrzej liked the young historian because they saw in him what they themselves had been 20 years earlier. And he wasn’t afraid of what people would write about him. Ania recalled: – He wasn’t even 30, a rank-and-file employee of IPN (Institute of National Remembrance), and he would attend events with football fans. They saw he was just like them, 20 years earlier. And he had a great passion for what he did, including when he ran the Museum of the Second World War. – Around 6 p.m., he’d go home to read to his children, tuck them in, and then return to work – Ania recalled.
“But we swore on the Eagle and the Cross”
Football fans loved Andrzej Kołakowski’s songs. During the funeral of Roman Zieliński, a legend among Śląsk Wrocław supporters, thousands marched in the procession listening to the song Oath, which Romek loved:
“It’s hard to win when no one believes in your victory / Hard to fight when so many have fallen / Hard to measure your strength by your intent / To share your last bullet like communion / But we swore on the Eagle and the Cross / On two colors – the holiest in Poland / On pure white and the burning red of blood / For the freedom of the living and eternal glory of the dead.”
Who, in Polish poetry, was last able to write about the loftiest emotions, to move one to tears, without ever brushing against stiff pathos? Wierzyński? Lechoń? Herbert? In Interview with a Hooligan, Andrzej spoke about that song, explaining – under my pressure – what the poet meant:
This song is about sacrifice. About laying down your life. About how, no matter what You decide, Lord, just don’t let us break when our time of trial comes. When we must choose between good and evil, give us the strength to choose good and truth. And not excuse ourselves saying, “I had to act differently, because of the circumstances.”
That was what mattered most. And that is what Andrzej Kołakowski passed on to Karol Nawrocki, who on behalf of IPN organized the funerals of Inka and Zagończyk. The essence of Andrzej’s talent was that divine spark that could present tragic stories as the future triumph of an idea – only temporarily defeated. It’s remarkable how Kołakowski could write about “Ogień” so simply, without excess pathos: “Death hunted me through forests like a hound / She paused above a mountain stream / A short flash over the slope / God’s will, my fight ends today / Hide me, my Podhale land / Mountain forest, rock me to sleep / So many times the Lord’s hand protected me / Now God has called me to report.”
Now listen to Andrzej’s story
In 2025, God called Andrzej Kołakowski to report. If only we all had such a simple report to give… Andrzej was not only brave and uncompromising but also clear and steadfast. Among our sins is that we failed to appreciate what we had while he lived. Now it’s time to make up for it – through articles, memories, and reissued albums.
That’s enough of my rambling. Below is my conversation with Andrzej in Interview with a Hooligan. Those whose doctors advise against emotional strain should not watch. There you’ll also find my subjective, authorial review of Andrzej’s songs. I’m sure that anyone who didn’t know them before, and discovers them now, will start searching for more on YouTube. Time to begin the great rediscovery of the Master, whom many of us didn’t know while He was still among us!
The interview with Andrzej is here: