This statutory holiday is also the third holiday in a row, starting with the May 1 Labor Day and the May 2 Flag Holiday. Given the concentration of holidays around this time, and the fact that national independence is already feted in November, why a special day to honor a legal document?
A couple of reasons, actually.
For one, the Polish Constitution adopted in 1791 was only the world’s 2nd modern, codified constitution (the U.S. constitution claiming first dibs).
Inspired by the values of the Age of Enlightenment, which sought to rationalize the system of governance, the Polish Constitution represented a move toward a parliamentary system and the rule of law.
Indeed, the Polish Constitution established the world’s first constitutional monarchy. That is, one in which the king retains his status as the head of state, but is subject to the rule of law—a major paradigm shift away from the system in which what the king says, goes.
Yet, in keeping with Poland’s dramatic history, where stability is often short-lived, the constitution went through its own sizeable drama. Within a year of its drafting, the constitution was attacked—quite literally. In what has come to be known the War in Defense of the Constitution, a Russian army some 97,000 strong invaded Poland and King Stanislaw August Poniatowski led 70,000 Polish troops to oppose them.
Historically, Poland has always been between a rock and a hard place—Russia to the east, Prussia (basically modern-day Germany) to the west, and Austria to the south. Three formidable, expansive empires that often saw Poland as little more than a buffer zone between one another and a region where everyone felt it was in their best interest to try and pull the strings.
Particularly prone to persuasion by foreign powers were the noblemen in the Poland of those days, who were often bribed and played off each other and the king. The noblemen of the pre-constitution years enjoyed power and influence that is almost unbelievable thanks to the liberum veto (Latin for “I freely forbid”) arrangement. In fact, it’s hard to believe that they got anything done at all. The liberum veto basically allowed any single nobleman to veto the decisions of a nobleman’s assembly, which led by the king, called the shots as a group.
The constitution did away with the liberum veto, reducing the influence of the noblemen substantially, and by extension, the foreign powers that had some of them in their pockets. The consequence was a group of disenfranchised noblemen friendly with Russia set up a rival confederation called the Targowica Confederation and colluded with the Russians to mount an invasion. Their stated aim was to protect Poland from descending into chaos by doing away with the new constitution and protecting the liberum veto.
For almost a year, the constitution was successfully defended by the king and his loyalists, but eventually its defense lay in tatters. In the end, the king himself joined the Targowica Confederation and Poland soon got divvied up between Russia, Prussia and Austria. Poland regained its sovereignty—and the constitution with it—a staggering 125 years later.
And if the old adage ‘you don’t know what you’ve got till its gone’ is anything to go by, Constitution Day—at least to Poles—makes a lot of sense.
