As Russian drones test its defenses, Warsaw’s political infighting risks weakening NATO and giving Moscow victories it could never win on the battlefield, Adam Reichardt writes for Ask Questions Later.
This week, nearly 20 Russian attack drones violated Polish airspace, a stark reminder that Poland sits on the frontline of a global contest between democracy and authoritarian aggression. The government responded by shooting several down, and President Karol Nawrocki and Prime Minister Donald Tusk appeared to coordinate responses. NATO is strengthening its defenses.
Yet disinformation campaigns immediately sought to blame Ukrainians, demonstrating how internal divisions can be exploited by external actors to weaken national security. The drone attack is a concrete warning: polarization at the highest levels threatens Poland’s ability to respond decisively to existential threats, and by extension, risks undermining NATO and EU cohesion.
One month into his presidency, Karol Nawrocki has already made it clear that he intends to chart a polarizing course. His first public speeches and early decisions reveal a president more inclined to sharpen divisions than bridge them, even as Poland faces escalating threats from Russia amidst the ongoing war in Ukraine. Instead of focusing on unity, Nawrocki’s rhetoric and actions highlight a deepening political and social cleavage within Poland, one that could undermine national security at a time when cohesion is needed the most—not just for Poland, but for the alliances and democratic institutions that rely on its stability.
Nawrocki’s inauguration speech before the parliament (Sejm) set the tone for his presidency. Rather than attempting to bridge the country’s fractured political landscape, the new president highlighted partisan themes, emphasizing national sovereignty and historical grievances—including some digs against Berlin, Kyiv, Brussels, and the European Union. While he invoked Poland’s resilience, the speech was notable for its absence of a conciliatory message. For many Poles, his words underscored the sense that Nawrocki views his role more as a politicizing actor continuing the battles of the past eight years or so.
This trend was reinforced in his speech during the September 1st commemorations at Westerplatte, where the first shots of the Second World War were fired. Instead of using the moment to highlight solidarity, both domestically and with allies, Nawrocki emphasized traditionalist narratives of Poland’s suffering and resistance.
His framing of the Second World War’s memory politics reflected heavily his longstanding reputation as a conservative (almost nationalist) historian, unequivocally demanding war reparations from the German state for its destruction of Poland more than 80 years ago, risking diplomatic friction with one of Poland’s most important European neighbors and allies. Nawrocki’s speech also suggested that his presidency will continue to weaponize history in service of contemporary political divides. At a moment when Russia’s aggression against Ukraine has made history tragically relevant again, the speech offered little in terms of building bridges at home or abroad, and even less reassurance to Poland’s allies watching from Brussels, Washington, and Kyiv.
Perhaps the clearest sign of Nawrocki’s polarizing instincts has been his approach to Ukrainian refugees in Poland. In August, he vetoed a bill aimed at extending support for Ukrainians, framing it as a burden on Polish taxpayers and suggesting that Ukrainian influence in Poland was excessive. His rhetoric, at times hinting that Ukrainians are a threat to Polish identity, has been amplified by sympathetic media outlets, growing far-right movements, and fueled disinformation campaigns.
Ukrainian outlets reacted with alarm, warning that Warsaw’s position could drift away from its once-vital role as Kyiv’s ally. BBC reporting further highlighted how Nawrocki’s stance risks undermining Poland’s international credibility at a time when Kyiv desperately needs solidarity. By treating Ukrainians less as war victims and more as scapegoats, Nawrocki has inflamed a growing anti-Ukrainian mood in Polish society, one that Russian propaganda is eager to exploit. Such divisions do not exist in isolation—they reverberate across NATO and the EU, weakening the collective ability of democracies to respond to aggression.
Nawrocki’s relationship with Donald Tusk and his government has already proven fraught. Instead of cooperating on core issues like defense, energy, and Poland’s role in the EU, the president has positioned himself as a counterweight to the prime minister (who he himself is a polarizing figure among many in right-wing circles). This rivalry will certainly paralyze policy-making, threatening a cohesive foreign and security policy where unity is essential. The dysfunctional relationship is not merely a matter of personality—it reflects a deliberate strategy of deepening polarization as a political tool. Yet such tactics risk leaving Poland vulnerable, especially when rapid decision-making in the face of crises—like the recent drone incursion—is critical.
The strained relations between Nawrocki and Tusk were on full display in the lead-up to the president’s trip to the White House on September 3rd. A dispute erupted over an “instruction” prepared by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which was meant to brief the president’s team on key talking points. The document leaked to the media, and Nawrocki’s spokesman blasted it as a page and a half of notes, accusing Polish diplomats in Washington of indifference to the visit.
Tusk responded by stressing that he had “very long experience with presidents” and reminding that any president would find it “much easier and more effective to act on the international stage if he did so in close cooperation with the government.” Tusk also prodded that the president’s office should better understand the constitutional rules governing foreign policy. This clash highlighted not only institutional rivalries but also how polarization reaches into the mechanics of diplomacy, showing that Poland could be ill-prepared to present a coherent voice abroad—a vulnerability visible to both Russia and other authoritarian actors watching closely.
Nevertheless, with all the symbolism of a conservative Polish president visiting Donald Trump in the White House, the meeting itself was notably friendly (a stark contrast to the tense Zelenskyy Oval Office encounter last February). For Nawrocki, it can be considered a major success. He returned to Warsaw with a public commitment from Trump that U.S. troops would not be withdrawn from Poland. For many Poles, this was reassuring. Given Poland’s frontline role in NATO, any signal of sustained American military presence carries significant weight, and Nawrocki managed to secure that pledge.
This week’s drone attack was a real test of Polish leadership.
The government responded by shooting down several drones, and Tusk and Nawrocki appeared to coordinate their responses. Nawrocki also leveraged his relationship with the White House with a call on the day of the provocation. Yet polarization has created fertile ground for effective disinformation campaigns, which immediately sought to pin blame for the drone incidents on Ukrainians rather than Russians. The narrative struck a chord with segments of Polish society, mostly in the far-right, but also those already primed by Nawrocki’s rhetoric. Russia’s hybrid tactics are most effective where domestic divisions exist, and Poland’s current political climate has made the country more vulnerable than it should be.
Thus, what has emerged so far from Nawrocki’s first month is a certain pattern: instead of reducing political and social divides, he utilizes them to undermine Tusk and his government. Yet the existential threats Poland faces—from Russian aggression to hybrid warfare and disinformation—demand that unity, rather than division, is the only way to strengthen resilience.
The inability of the president and government to work together can create institutional paralysis. What’s more, Nawrocki’s rhetoric has already inflamed societal resentment toward Ukrainians and is only growing. This rhetoric is reinforced by online disinformation meant to undermine Poland’s security posture and weaken its standing within NATO and the EU.
After this week’s provocation, it is clear that Poland faces critical choices. If Nawrocki and Tusk cannot find a way to cooperate, especially on matters of national security, Poland risks becoming its own worst enemy. The continuing rise of the far-right Confederation party and other extremist forces is already having a destructive effect and is in many ways a direct result of the dangerous polarization fostered at the highest levels. At a time when resilience and cohesion are paramount, deepening political divides threaten not only Poland’s democracy but also its security. If Poland cannot rally around a common cause, Russia may achieve its goals without ever setting a single boot on Polish soil.
Poland today is a bellwether. Its choices will reverberate far beyond Warsaw, signaling either the resilience or vulnerability of democracies facing external threats. This week’s drone attacks are a stark reminder: domestic unity is not optional—it is a prerequisite for defending not only national sovereignty, but also the collective security of NATO and the EU, and for maintaining the credibility of democratic states in the face of authoritarian aggression.
Adam Reichardt is the Editor-in-Chief of New Eastern Europe, a magazine based in Poland covering political, historical, and social developments in Central and Eastern Europe. He also co-hosts Talk Eastern Europe, the magazine’s podcast.
