Gazeta Wyborcza is a tabloid that uses USA Today - style color photos but that takes an intellectual approach to news, running long, thoughtful editorials and essays by philosophers and historians -- the types of pieces that you might find in the New York Review of Books. That editorial thrust has been a joint effort by Luczywo and Adam Michnik, the legendary Polish dissident, historian, and author, who for years was a thorn in the side of the communist regime. Michnik, who holds the title of editor in chief, is the public face of the paper, while Luczywo has been the behind-the-scenes power, managing the paper's day-to-day affairs. (She recently took charge of Agora's Internet division.)
"I've been fighting for freedom of expression for many years," says Luczywo. "I believe that our newspaper should stand for important things and should not avoid difficult topics. It should tell the truth, even when the truth goes against the popular grain, the government, or advertisers. Our newspaper should have a reputation for integrity and should keep those standards." Adds Michnik: "We aren't liked by everybody. Some say that we impose a liberal standard for political debate. I don't think that's wrong. We take seriously our role in this country as an institution of democracy."
Meanwhile, under Rapaczynski's strategic guidance, Agora also has managed a series of shrewd business moves, transforming itself into what is considered to be one of the best-run media companies in Europe. In the early days of the company, when it desperately needed investors in order to acquire printing facilities, it turned down several suitors because it was determined to find one that would offer a sizable cash investment with no strings attached. "We had a very long list of people we didn't want as investors," says Rapaczynski. "We didn't want a media shark who eats up companies. What we wanted was someone who would make a sizable investment, without having any editorial say. We wanted what every company founder wants -- which is, essentially, a free lunch."
Agora got just that in 1993. In a very sweet deal, Cox Enterprises Inc., a family-owned media chain based in Atlanta, bought a 12.5% stake in Agora and agreed not to meddle in its editorial affairs. Since then, Cox has taken stakes in Agora's radio and cable-TV businesses and has become a valuable friend to the company, providing the staff with management training, consultants, and a lot of free advice. The result: Agora has increased its profits every year. This year, its net income for the first five months alone was $17 million, up 60% from the same period last year.
Luczywo and Rapaczynski, meanwhile, are now bona fide moguls, each holding shares worth more than $30 million. (Michnik declined to take any stock, saying that, as editor, he needed to be removed from business interests.) Luczywo and Rapaczynski don't apologize for their wealth. They argue that money buys power and independence. If they wanted to live by their values, they had no choice but to create real economic value. "One of the greatest fears among the people at Agora has been, 'How are we going to keep our independence? How are we going to keep from being taken over?' " says Rapaczynski. "I've always believed that there is only one protection: You have to make sure you're financially independent. I remember telling people, 'The best way to keep the devil at the door is to be rich.' If you want to do good, you have to do well."
To understand Agora's thirst for independence, you first need to appreciate the personal stories of both Luczywo and Rapaczynski. Like most Poles, their personal histories are wrapped up in Poland's traumatic political history. Luczywo's parents, both Jews, fled during World War II to what was then the Soviet Union, escaping the fate of roughly 3 million Polish Jews who were murdered in Nazi death camps. While in the Soviet Union, the Luczywos became friends with Rapaczynski's parents (her father was a Polish Jew; her mother was a Polish Catholic).
After the war, both couples returned to Warsaw, had children, and met every Sunday in the park. Raised as "Poles," even celebrating Catholic holidays, Luczywo and Rapacyznski both insist that they didn't think much about politics until 1968, when the Polish government launched a vicious anti-Semitic campaign against "rootless cosmopolitans" and "Zionist lackeys." Along with many other Polish Jews, Rapaczynski's parents were fired from their jobs. Meanwhile, much of Warsaw University was shut down, forcing out many students, including Luczywo and Rapaczynski. (Michnik, who was also Jewish and who was an outspoken student activist, was arrested several times during that period and spent some time in prison.)