On 7 May 1977, the body of Stanisław Pyjas—a student of Polish literature and philosophy at the Jagiellonian University and a supporter of the Workers’ Defence Committee (KOR)—was found in a stairwell at 7 Szewska Street in Kraków.

According to the opposition, Pyjas was murdered by the communist secret police (SB). The regime claimed he had simply fallen down the stairs. But Pyjas was killed because he stood against a system built on lies, one that crushed all expressions of freedom. His death sparked a wave of resistance: just days later, on 15 May, his friends founded the Student Solidarity Committee (SKS)—the first independent student organisation in communist Poland.

One of the “Three Friends”

Pyjas had drawn the attention of the SB due to his involvement in a group of young Kraków intellectuals based around the „Żaczek” student dormitory. Influenced by the rebellious ideals of 1968, the group included Bronisław Wildstein, Lesław Maleszka, Iwona Galińska, and the Bek brothers, Bogusław and Wiesław.

“We were very young then and everything seemed possible, but we knew we lived in a system where nothing truly was,” Wildstein later recalled. “We hated politics, yet we couldn’t escape it. Whether we turned to literature, philosophy, theatre or film, we always hit the wall of censorship and were forced to bow before the regime’s cynical functionaries.”

The group was constantly monitored, intimidated, harassed, and subjected to searches and provocations. In the months before his death, at least eight secret police agents were assigned to follow Pyjas. Wildstein remembers him as gifted, sensitive, and courageous—one of the “Three Friends” featured in documentaries of that name. In 1976, Pyjas refused to testify after being detained. Wildstein would respond to interrogations with vague philosophical musings, while Maleszka agreed to cooperate as the secret informant “Ketman”—a truth revealed only years later.

“Eradicate by any means”

In late April 1977, Pyjas and his friends received anonymous letters accusing him of collaborating with the SB. Ironically, one of the agents later tasked with investigating the letters had written, “Eradicating such bastards by any means is the highest priority right now.” Pyjas’s friends reported the incident, turning the regime’s slander back on itself. Days later, Pyjas was dead.

“There are several theories,” Wildstein reflected. “The most likely is that they meant to intimidate us by beating Pyjas, and it went too far. He was clearly attacked with something heavy—an iron bar or knuckle-duster. But straight away, the regime tried to pin it on us. Two so-called journalists from Trybuna came to me with a ready-made narrative that we had done it ourselves. They had the script too fast—it made me wonder whether the real purpose was to frighten the opposition and blame the activists.”

Another theory was that Pyjas had discovered Maleszka’s collaboration with the SB and was killed to protect a valuable informant. “They wanted to intimidate him and ended up killing him. We may never find hard evidence, but one thing is certain: Staszek Pyjas was murdered,” said Wildstein.

The best defence is visibility

Outraged by the false narratives in the state-controlled press, Pyjas’s friends boycotted the official student festival (juwenalia) and organised their own – “Black Juwenalia.” They left flowers and candles outside the building where his body was found, read out statements, and honoured his memory.

On Sunday 15 May, two funeral marches took place in Kraków. One followed a morning mass at the Dominican church to Szewska Street. The other, in the evening, was a massive demonstration from Szewska Street to Wawel Castle. At its conclusion, the founding of the Student Solidarity Committee was announced. The declaration was signed by Andrzej Balcerek, Joanna Barczyk, Liliana Batko, Wiesław Bek, Małgorzata Gątkiewicz, Elżbieta Majewska, Józef Ruszar, Bogusław Sonik, Bronisław Wildstein, and… Lesław Maleszka.

“For most of us, it was clear that the best defence was openness,” explained Liliana Batko-Sonik. “We wanted to emphasise our independence and academic identity. The word ‘committee’ came from the Workers’ Defence Committee (KOR); ‘student’ was obvious. But the true novelty was ‘solidarity’—a word untainted by communist newspeak. It became a new name for hope.”

Acting in solidarity

During its three years of activity, the Kraków SKS launched educational initiatives to expose students to topics absent from official curricula, including banned history and literature. They published underground leaflets, organised petitions in defence of the persecuted, and protested against the “res” collections—books kept in the restricted section of the Jagiellonian Library, including émigré publications.

Inspired by the Kraków SKS, similar committees sprang up in Warsaw, Gdańsk, Wrocław, Poznań, and Szczecin. In 1980, members of the SKS supported striking workers on the Baltic coast, helped with printing operations at the Gdańsk Shipyard, and advised on setting up new trade unions. They were also instrumental in founding the Independent Students’ Association (NZS). When their mission was complete, the SKS dissolved in September 1980, and its members joined the broader “Solidarity” movement.

Breaking the fear

SKS members were under constant surveillance. The Ministry of the Interior launched a special operation against them under the codename “Vassals.” Other operations targeted Kraków activists under names like “Alpha,” “The Unrepentant,” and “Delta.” Despite infiltration by agents with orders to destabilise the group, the regime never succeeded.

“The security services feared us because we were the first to overcome fear,” said Batko-Sonik. “That’s why they tried so hard to isolate us. We were the core group. We saw firsthand how the power of truth grew and spread. And we gave meaning to a word that soon became the most famous Polish word of the 20th century.”

Erasing the evidence

The communist secret services did everything they could to ensure the killers of Stanisław Pyjas were never identified. Files were destroyed. Inconvenient witnesses were silenced. In the summer of 1977, Stanisław Pietraszko—a student who was the last person to see Pyjas alive—died under mysterious circumstances.

SKS activists fought to preserve the memory of both students and ensure the truth was not buried. Their courage laid the groundwork for Poland’s democratic opposition—and for the birth of Solidarity.

By Cecylia Kuta, Institute of National Remembrance (IPN)

Photos: IPN