Looking at “Azart-Sat” television today, we have the unpleasant impression that the colossus created to build a democratic community had feet of clay. The ideals have been reduced to rubble, leaving behind a strange television-like entity.
Today’s television, instead of serving the community, serves the president. It is enough for it to show him continuously. It is not expected to do anything more.
The local medium (always dependent on the city) became a commercial-law company in 1998. To this day, the Municipal Commune owns 40 percent of its shares, while cable-network owner Leszek Burchardt owns 60 percent. The television is co-owned by the local government, which it should, after all, be scrutinizing. It is also a monopolist. No other local television station had the opportunity to establish itself on Leszek Burchardt’s cable network, despite one trying to do so.
When the local television station was created, nobody imagined that one day the interests of a party would again dominate the interests of the state. The media were supposed to remain free forever. Did any of the creators of the local government television station think that they were bringing into existence a medium that, like an office, would be open from Monday to Friday?
Our youth, that happy time
It was supposed to be television for citizens. Local, independent, one of the first non-public television stations in Poland. Creating a medium that did not serve the communist system must have been an ecstatic experience. The television was built by people dazzled by freedom.
Danuta Maślicka was the first to propose making this crazy dream come true. A special edition of the program of the Civic Self-Government Committee attached to MP (Jan Kisiliczyk) in Bolesławiec in 1990 included the statement: “It seems possible to us to organize a cable-and-satellite television station.” A year later, it succeeded. An independent medium was created, addressing matters important to the community.
It was created by enthusiasts such as Bohdan Pieliński, whose enthusiasm and passion were infectious and released energy in others. He believed most strongly that it would succeed. He hosted the first live program, “Open Studio.” After being chosen through a competition, he headed the television station for a year, then resigned from the position himself.
Among the people most important to the beginnings of the local-government television station were Jan Samerdak, a cameraman still working today; Andrzej Stefańczyk (now with TVN24); the late Andrzej Czarciński, an electrician and great community activist who also headed the television station for a time; Jana Trawniczek and Jurek Piasecki, journalists and producers of the cultural program; Stanisław Broniszewski, a passionate advocate for the local community who wanted to build and enrich it and hosted his own program; Zygmunt Brusiła, originator of a historical series; Andrzej Gołębiowski, who hosted programs about fishing; Zbyszek Kacprzak, a jack-of-all-trades; Janusz Baranowski, responsible for sports; Dariusz Wędzina, who also periodically headed the local television station; and cameraman Lucjan Soleniec, who was always in love with television and died in 2008.
“In Bolesławiec there were people who cared about something, who dreamed about something and tried to turn those dreams into reality. It may sound pathetic, but it is impossible to write about those early days any other way,” recalls Danuta Maślicka.
Most of the people who created the television station worked at the Bolesławiec Cultural Center. They made television as volunteers. They were loved, criticized and needed. Maślicka emphasizes that the mission of the young non-public television station was to make people aware that they themselves mattered, that there was someone who wanted to listen to them. The assumptions were very lofty: to show role models in its programs and open people’s eyes to the common good—Bolesławiec, a city in free Poland. The local television station taught Bolesławiec residents democracy as its creators understood it: the democracy they had fought for.
Danuta Maślicka emphasizes two important points. First, it was impossible to avoid talking about politics and parties from the very beginning of the television station’s existence. The originators were members of the Democratic Union. Second, despite the volunteer work, funding for its operations came from the city hall. And it is harder to criticize the person on whom one depends financially.
In those days, says Andrzej Stefańczyk, nobody felt that the television station would become so politically dependent. The idea was to support the democratically elected authorities in free Poland. Speaking positively about new investments, plans, projects and political decisions was tantamount to informing people about them. One of the aims of the local television station was to support the young authorities.
1998—the television station’s golden years
In 1998, Telewizja Samorządowa Bolesławiec was transformed into a commercial-law company, in which Leszek Burchardt (the cable-television owner) acquired 60% of the shares, while the Municipal Commune of Bolesławiec acquired 40%. Krzysztof Błażejczyk from Jelenia Góra, a Burchardt associate, became the company’s president, and Józef Burniak became city president. This was when the first opinions appeared about attempts to manipulate the television station.
After seven years of operation, the television station had built a loyal audience and an exceptionally strong position within the community. Citizens lost in democracy turned to the local medium when, in their view, something bad was happening. Whether it was a hole in the pavement or a dishonest seller, it was customary to call the television station. “Azart-Sat” became a good fairy for some and a magic lamp granting wishes for others.
Things were going badly in city politics. The red days had returned. That was the widespread opinion. President Józef Burniak says that although labeling people is the stupidest thing one can do, it remains common practice. He struggled with the communist label throughout his entire term. Political opponents believed that he had taken over the local television station and dictated its terms. Yet his recollections suggest that the television crew opposed him. Wioletta Juchaniuk, Burniak recounts, even resigned because she believed the city’s censorship was excessive.
Did Burniak influence “Azart-Sat”? And why should he not decide what the television station, owned by the city, would show? Why not use a tool perfectly suited to supporting those in power? If the local television station had previously produced reports about the local government’s activities, why should it stop doing so?
The process was best described by Andrzej Stefańczyk: “When everyone in the authorities said they wanted independent television, they were unaware that they were truly hostages to their own vanity and that they did not care about free television.”
Councillors elected in free elections put on a real show in front of the television cameras because council sessions were broadcast in full. As Bernard Łętowski recalls, the recorded proceedings lasted longer, became displays of councillors’ oratorical skills, and did not necessarily follow the session’s agenda. The opportunity to appear on camera and impress viewers translated into popularity and, consequently, votes in elections.
Józef Burniak now believes he made a mistake by agreeing with the coalition not to show the proceedings on television. On the other hand, he emphasizes that this was a quiet cut to another source of “Azart-Sat” funding, because the city paid extra for the broadcasts. When this source of money disappeared, the television station had to look for other opportunities. Paradoxically, this increased its independence.
President Krzysztof Błażejczyk was the person tasked with commercializing the television station. He had contacts in the national media; during his tenure, beauty contests were held in Bolesławiec, and participants from the first season of Big Brother came to “Azart-Sat” birthday celebrations. Several thousand people attended events organized by “Azart-Sat.” For a time, they were more popular than the then Festival of Ceramics.
This was a time when the television station filmed events that were commercially worthwhile to broadcast because of their large audiences. They were neither meetings with writers nor art openings. President Błażejczyk had ordinary tastes.
“Azart-Sat” became an object of desire both for those in power and for predatory capitalism. Its enthusiasts had equipped it with no defense mechanism. It was dependent on the city and politicians, who were beginning to shed their sheep’s clothing, and subject to a market economy whose rules nobody knew. It could become neither professional and commercial nor independent. Then the time for changes arrived.
2002—not handed everything on a plate
In the 2002 Bolesławiec Election Express, fully sponsored by the “Bolesławiec Land Local Government Forum,” which supported Piotr Roman, we read that President Józef Burniak’s term (1998–2002) was a time of the decline and enslavement of local television.
The “Forum” was a genuinely broad alliance of many groups and parties. It brought together entrepreneurs, councillors, unaffiliated people, as well as PO, PiS, RS, the Catholic Action, AWR, the Bolesławiec Family Communities and NSZZ “S.” Deliverance was approaching in the form of a competent and experienced candidate, untainted by a communist past.
Throughout his term, President Józef Burniak did not have cable television connected to his home. His party colleagues watched the television programs. They called him whenever they decided that a program was inappropriate. On such occasions, the president would call editor-in-chief Bernard Łętowski, and strongly unparliamentary words would be exchanged.
The day after the 2002 election, Łętowski learned personally from the new president, Piotr Roman, that he no longer worked at “Azart-Sat.” Two other employees were dismissed along with him. Bogdan Mazurkiewicz, Roman’s friend with journalistic ambitions, became editor-in-chief. Later, cable television was connected to the new president’s home.
From the article “Television Humbug,” printed in an election leaflet, we learn that Piotr Roman, as a rival candidate, had serious trouble appearing on “Azart-Sat.” Roman explained to voters why he had not taken part in the televised debate. He said he did not want his presence to lend credibility to a biased television station. He complained that during his four years as starosta, he had been invited to participate in a program only once, while materials prepared by “Azart-Sat” “consisted mainly of manipulating information or were blocked and distorted”. As an example, he cited a press conference at the provincial hospital: “[…] although I was sitting right next to the director and speaking about the hospital’s situation, I was meticulously edited out”.
Yet during Burniak’s time, Piotr Roman’s election spot, showing gold door handles in the town hall, was broadcast. When Józef Burniak wanted to broadcast his own paid spot on “Azart-Sat” in the next election, it turned out to be impossible. “Mr. Roman understood the role of the media in shaping the image of power better than I did,” comments Józef Burniak on the incident.
In his 2002 election statement, Piotr Roman wrote: “If TL Azart Sat were objective, open and genuinely served all the residents of the Bolesławiec Land, I would certainly appear before its cameras”.
2008—now it’s all family
Television in Bolesławiec became more of a family affair. The television station’s president and editor-in-chief became the daughter of one of its owners. After our portal reported the change, city councillors met with the Burchardt family (father and daughter) to ask about “Azart-Sat.” The discussion was chaotic, however. The councillors did not really know what to expect from this strange television station. Supposedly ours, local and municipal, but mostly private. Supposedly independent, yet regularly receiving money from the city. One thing was nevertheless confirmed during these bizarre discussions about the television station. Despite President Piotr Roman’s repeated declarations that the station was independent of him, the new president, Alicja Burchardt, admitted with disarming frankness that the president was the person “delegated” to liaise with the television station and responsible for it.
City councillors do not really know what to do with the political-but-not-political “Azart-Sat.” Some councillors remain firmly stuck in the 1990s and see the television station as a common good established to create a local community. Others would like the city to dispose of its shares altogether, because it is inappropriate for one authority to finance another. The remaining councillors meekly remain silent because the existing situation suits both them and those in power.
The colossus’s feet are crumbling, however. Access to cable television is limited because Leszek Burchardt did not lay a network throughout the entire city. According to current data from the National Broadcasting Council, the Bolesławiec cable network has 6,296 outlets for approximately 40,000 residents. Assuming that an average household has three people, the television station does not reach even half of the population. How many people actually watch it, and are its programs as popular as they once were? Nobody knows.
Shaping freedom is just as difficult as winning it
In his final interview with Jacek Żakowski, Tadeusz Mazowiecki says that democracy means constant repair; it is a dynamic process, and learning about ourselves and Poland still lies ahead of us.
The local television station that was meant to teach Bolesławiec residents democracy is now as barren as the “Interview of the Week” broadcast on it, where the presenter’s only ambition is to ask a few questions she has prepared, while the guest’s answers do not hinder her in the slightest.
Eighteen years ago, an amateur and very sincere television station with ambitions was brought into existence. It was full of the pathos and ideals of pre-media times. The local-government television station, Hamlet-like, was defeated by the prose of life, political maneuvering and the market economy.
The creators falsely assumed that integrity and virtue, as higher values, would replace professionalism and the ability to position oneself in the political game. They thought that citizens, needing a free medium, would not allow it to be harmed. They concluded that democracy was something granted once and for all.
The transformations that took place in Poland over twenty years ground down authority and every virtue. And that is what happened to the local television station. Today we have a television shell: a good president shown in every news bulletin, with a procession of pensioners and carefree preschoolers in the background. It has nothing to do with professionalism, yet it is a monopolist on the market. It reflects neither the residents’ needs nor life in the city.
Those who talk about it—the founders and authors of many programs—light up and smile warmly during interviews with us. It is a piece of their lives, still not indifferent to them. Even when they have an unfavorable attitude toward the television station, they begin to speak well of it as they talk. Because how else can one assess something in which one believed so deeply?
(editorial information ii)