WARSAW -- The red and white flag of Poland is fluttering from thousands of public buildings and apartment blocks in Warsaw this week. White-haired veterans with rows of medals on their chests are attending solemn masses in the capital's churches. It is the 50th anniversary of the Warsaw Uprising, an event that is central to the way that Poles see themselves and their history.


The uprising broke out on Aug. 1, 1944, almost five years after Nazi forces occupied Warsaw. It lasted 63 days and was one of the most ferocious battles of World War II, resulting in the deaths of about 200,000 Poles -- the majority of them civilians, not resistance fighters -- and 17,000 Germans. After they had suppressed the uprising, the Nazis deported the Polish survivors and systematically razed to the ground almost every building that remained intact. The city, once one of the eight largest in Europe, was turned into a ghost town.


Yet Poles do not remember the uprising exclusively as an anti-German event. They also see it as a brave and desperate attempt to prevent their country from falling under the control of the Soviet Union. No Pole will ever forget that the Soviet forces who were approaching Warsaw from the east in the summer of 1944 refused to assist the uprising. Stalin deliberately allowed the destruction of Warsaw, and the massacre of the non-Communist Polish forces, in order to facilitate his takeover of the country. It was cynicism of the highest order, and it meant that the Warsaw Uprising quickly became a spiritual point of reference for all Polish patriots in the Communist period.


Given the atrocities committed by the Nazis, and given the shameful record of Moscow, it was quite a bold gesture by Polish President Lech Walesa to invite German and Russian leaders to this week's anniversary commemorations. The decision upset many war veterans, and even some younger Poles were not sure it was a good idea.


But on balance Walesa did the right thing. To invite German President Roman Herzog to Warsaw is to recognize that contemporary Germany is a good friend to Poland and a democracy that does not try to hide the unpleasant facts of German history. To invite Boris Yeltsin is to recognize that the reborn Russian state is not the same animal at all as Stalin's Soviet Union.As it happens, Yeltsin thought it best not to take up the invitation and sent his aide, Sergei Filatov, instead. The likeliest explanation is that Yeltsin understood the extreme sensitivity of the occasion for Poles. Moscow buried Polish hopes for freedom in 1944, and Yeltsin probably correctly judged that the goal of Polish-Russian reconciliation would be best served by his absence from Warsaw.


In issuing the invitations, however, Walesa was offering a clear-headed and realistic assessment of Poland's place in Europe. It makes no sense for Poland to have frosty relations with its two giant neighbors, both of which are now more favorably disposed to the idea of an independent, democratic Polish state than at any previous moment in this century.


One lesson of the Warsaw Uprising is that Poland can expect nothing but catastrophe if Germany and Russia have hostile intentions toward it. Another, related lesson is that Poland will never be safe if it is not tied into a larger European security structure. Walesa has learned these lessons and deserves credit for trying to put them into practice.