unVeiled » Politics
The Face of Silesian Independence in the 21st Century
By Alice Sharp (⁂ASharp)
Published 05/03/2039, 23:48
The Wujek Coal Mine, Katowice — a modern-day symbol of contemporary Silesian independence.
Silesia. A region just as beautiful as it is hurt. Filled to the brim with natural resources, it has always been a European jewel of industry. Its endless mines, refineries, and power plants promise nothing but progress to the nation that manages to rule over this patch of land located in southwest Poland. But for all its existence, Silesia did not particularly like being ruled over.
For over a century, the countries that surrounded Silesia tried to lay claim to it. Unsurprisingly, the vision of European powers grinding its independence out of the region did not really spark joy in the heart of most of Silesia's citizens — especially because the region has its own identity. One it has been forced to suppress, over and over, until all that was left to its meaning was how productive its industrial potential could prove.
And for over a century, it has fulfilled that meaning well. By no means was it a perfect arrangement, of course, but it was some sort of relationship — as long as it pumped out tonnes of steel and coal, Poland was generally happy to recognize the needs of most of Silesia's citizens. But then, the Veil collapsed — and alongside it, so did all of Silesia's hopes to remain relevant. With paratechnology flooding the market like never before, the region's primary output has become obsolete, leaving it to rot as a now-irrelevant inconvenience more than a genuine Vovoidenship. An inconvenience that still wants its independence, now more than ever.
…or so it has been said 14 years ago, when the whole fiasco occurred.
But how does Silesia really look nowadays?
The morning air is cold, but some political factions out there would say it's nothing compared to the heart of the man I am about to meet.
It's 8:35; there's still ten minutes before the agreed time. I use it to look around myself, and feel the fume-ridden air of the heart of Silesia to its fullest.
The first thing that strikes me isn't how abandoned the whole place is — I'm already aware that by now, it's little more than a monument to an idea long-dead — but the fact it's still at all standing. To those that say they know what's best for Silesia, the mine is a symbol of utmost failure at enforcing their rules. To those that don't share that worldview, it's one of the last things holding their identity together.
If I were the former, I'd have long blown it sky-high. But then again, maybe it's better to leave some corpses alone. Especially when they don't realize they're already dead. And especially when they still have their emissaries.
Without as much as a single sound, a door opens next to me. Through it steps a Fae man in his forties — tall, well-built, with the face of a soldier. He's wearing clothes that would make him fit right in with the crow of Wujek, if he was living before 2021 — today, though, his work overalls, big mustache, and lit cigarette are little more than a curiosity to the average civilian, bereft of anything but the strange fashion of times long gone. But I'm not the average civilian — I know what they symbolize, here and now.
He throws the smoke on the ground and puts it out.
"Hm." Without turning his head, Ry'hle Kiera nods. Around him, the air somehow manages to feel even colder. I do not think that that is unintentional. Judging by the look in his sky-blue eyes, I can see I am not mistaken.
He looks at me, his expression blank, and turns his eyes towards the recorder sitting in my hands. We both know that it's more than outdated by now, but I'm an old-timer; there are certain things in life, I've found, that are better off left how they were. I do not think that Mr. Kiera shares this belief.
"So," he says, his voice rough, as if the smoke he'd just dropped wasn't his first. "What d'you want?"
He already knows the answer, but I suppose there's no such thing as too much cautiousness. Not with his profession and title, at least.
Mr. Kiera is something of a local symbol, you see. The front runner of Silesia United, a… well, you couldn't call it a movement in the official sense of the word, but it's every bit a group with real impact. The people united under SU's flag — one that displays the Wujek Coal Mine rather proudly — may differ on many issues, but they have one common goal: a goal most of Poland's politicians would kill to silence. They want Silesia independent, cut off from the country it had been a part of for so long. It's the only way to ensure its prosperity, they say in a voice many newspapers and officials have tried to squander.
But I'm not here to let them silence it. I'm here to do what I always do — really hear that voice out.
"No sense in beating around the bush," I begin. Within his eyes, I can see the faintest spark of appreciation for the gesture. "I'm here with unVeiled. You're here with Silesia United. I report interesting people. You have things you'd like the world to hear." I shoot him a glance, a smirk entering my face. "Let's just do what we do best."
The corners of his mouth move ever so slightly up. He lights up another smoke and looks out beyond the horizon, organizing his thoughts to the best of his abilities. By the time he's done, the cigarette is half-finished. Neither of us particularly cares.
"We want out," he suddenly says, our eyes meeting once more. "If the system doesn't care 'bout us, I fail to see why we should care 'bout it." By the way he accents 'fail', I can hear he's from one of the Fae families that have survived the Third Diaspora and lived in Silesia for generations, culturally aligning himself with Esterberg and its Fae-Silesian culture. By the way he strings his words together, it's clear he's a man that has places to be.
"And why would you say the system doesn't care about you, Mr. Kiera? Assuming 'you' means 'the people of Silesia', of course."
He knows I don't intend for the inquiry to question the validity of his claim. Out of pure habit, he still groans regardless. "And why would I say the system cares about us? You've seen what the 2020s did to us. To our people. One crisis after another." He sighs, shaking his head. "Turns out that you don't even need to pretend to care about some of your people, the moment their region turns out useless."
"Useless? How would you say you and your people have become… useless, to the government of Poland?"
"Miss, we're no Second Polonia. We can't churn out the magic product the average client wants, nowadays. We do what we've always done — we make metal and we mine coal." By the way he emphasizes the final few words, I don't think the irony of a Fae working with so much steel escapes him, even one century later. "And the government don't really need that anymore, does it. Not when it can just use mages to split the atom and alchemists to turn thin air into metal."
"So what does that leave you with, exactly?"
He scoffs. "Nothing. We're not needed, not anymore. You ever seen our budget compared to the rest of the Vovoidenships? Yeah, not exactly as high, is it." For a few moments, he considers his words, looking at the gravel ground before him. He clears his throat, as if it hurt to talk about this again, but continues all the same. "You ever seen who gets to decide what's best for us, too?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Not particularly. Care to enlighten me?"
"After our output proved useless post-Veil, they put up a whole Council to manage us. Said we can no longer support our own economy, that they need to intervene to stop our cities from bankrupting." He scoffs again. "What a load of bullshit."
"Why do you say that?"
"'Cause every single son of a bitch that sits on that committee is a Warsaw shit, through and through. Staffed with shits from Witch Slayer, too. Still got that Soviet spirit in them."
"And why is that bad?"
"Because it turns out there's better ways to actually spend money than on someone else's home."
I write a few things down, letting him finish his smoke. This time, he doesn't throw it on the ground. He just lets it turn into ash in his hands as he looks at me again. More than anything, his eyes are tired. Tired of all the fighting. Tired of all the poverty. Tired of all the lies.
"We have cities nobody from the Warsaw government wants to support. We have cultures nobody from the Warsaw government wants to support. We have lives nobody from the Warsaw government wants to support." He crosses his arms.
"I presume they don't particularly feel Polish, either?"
His silent nod is good enough of an answer. "For years, this land has been a bargaining chip in Europe's politics. After World War One. After Veilfall. And we've always been here, always stuck between the rock and the hard place. We saw you shits turn what we call home into currency. And we're pretty fucking sick of it. Especially when you now try to take it away from us."
"So what do you propose, Mr. Kiera? What is the solution? I'm sure our readers — those that still haven't decided where they stand in the issue, at least — would love to hear it." There's no irony present in my voice. It takes him a moment to realize it's just journalist mannerisms.
With a cold gaze, he looks deep into my eyes. "What you always do when someone fights against your interests. What Silesians always did when someone fought against our interests. Out of all countries, Poland should understand best there's only one solution to living under an uncaring tyrant that only treats you as a store of value."
I smirk, but raise my eyebrow regardless. "That being?"
His face is hard as marble. "War."
Later that night, I check what Mr. Kiera said. Turns out all of it's true. After the Veilfall-caused mid-2020s collapse of most of Silesia's industrial plants, they didn't have any choice but to accept Warsaw's help. 'Help' being a euphemism for the Central Committee For the Betterment of Silesia, a government-appointed organ meant to override local authorities for as long as the crisis lasts, staffed by personnel formerly overseeing Poland's primary pre-Veilfall normalzy organization — ZM "Witch Slayer" Division. Turns out that crisis has been lasting for the last 14 years, and nobody's quite sure when it will end, but they're trying their hardest to bring Silesia's infrastructure back to operation.
So says their website, at the very least.
Silesia's citizens seem to disagree. Silesia United is a particular player on that front, my sources tell me. The Polish government has tried to dismiss it as just nationalist radicals, but I don't think that's quite fair. They might be separationists, but they don't just care about their land being cut out from Poland — they also seem to genuinely care about their people.
The biggest accusation against SU — and particularly Mr. Kiera, who's the de facto frontrunner of the whole organization — its enemies lay against it is that it's brutal in its operations. Here, I cannot help but ask — is protesting really all that brutal? Is burning a few trash cans so your voice can be heard really all that brutal? Especially when, as SU says, their homeland feels genuinely threatened by outside influence?
Another thing that's said about SU is its rumored connections to the Chaos Insurgency. The Polish Ministry of Internal Affairs says there are several pieces of evidence connecting Mr. Kiera to the far-right radicals from the Insurgency. Radicals that — just like people like Tomasz Bardoń like to proclaim — seemingly support the cause of Silesian independence. But is that really true?
After some digging, it turns out it isn't. The Insurgency likes to shout about its support for SU's claim, but the latter couldn't be farther away from the former's claim. While the Insurgency outright states Silesia should rise up, its actual goal isn't freedom for Silesians — it's opposition against peace. The Insurgency sees a chance to mess with the Global Occult Coalition, Vanguard, and Europe's governments while hiding behind a legitimate claim that is bound to soon make a move, so it does what it does best — it lets fascism hide in plain sight.
Publically available past arrest records for Mr. Kiera don't really paint him as someone that would even tolerate the Insurgency, though. They paint him as someone who, through direct and quick action, likes to say things some people don't like said. As someone who protests against things some people don't like questioned. As someone that is ready to do whatever it takes for genuine, well-intentioned freedom. Even if that freedom means him getting arrested a few times.
So what the hell is going on here? Dear reader, I'm sorry to say that I do not think I know.
What I do know for certain however is that we've got ourselves a region that wants nothing to do with the people that try to tame it and is ready to fight for its needs just as it had always done, the people that actually do want to tame it, and the population of Poland, comfortably indifferent in-between. Some would maybe tell you Mr. Kiera's activism is a ridiculous farce, bordering on treason and terrorism. Others would say it's simply what is required to get the people of Silesia what they rightfully deserve. What they have been denied for so, so long.
There are two sides to this coin — both of which seem to be hiding more than just wanting what's best for Silesia. Both also deny this masquerade, and are ready to do whatever it takes to ensure their voice is heard. To do whatever it takes for that indifferent population to listen, and stand up for their cause.
And still, no matter how much I read about all this, where I sit on this particular issue, I cannot quite say.
It is already late at night by the time I finish this report. I yawn and close my laptop, ready to greet the night without any dreams plaguing my sleep.
I sincerely doubt Silesia can say the same.
See Also
Terms of Service | Contact | Privacy Policy | About Us | Newsletter | Site Map
