As opinion polls reveal a growing unease among Poles toward Ukrainian refugees, political analyst Mykola Riabchuk examines how the weaponisation of history in Polish politics continues to shape public perceptions of their eastern neighbours.
Ukrainians celebrate their national independence day in the centre of Warsaw, Poland, on August 25. Photo: ANP / EPA / PAWEL SUPERNAK POLAND OUT
It is common wisdom that a good guest should not bother his hosts for longer than three days. After that, he should either leave or fully formalize his relationship with the hosts as a tenant.
Ukrainian refugees who flooded Poland en mass in the first weeks of the all-out Russian invasion have already spent more than three years with their Polish hosts, and most of them have formalized their relations with Polish ‘landlords’: they found jobs (mostly jobs which are unpopular among Poles), paid taxes (more than the Polish government spends on supporting refugees) and did their best to learn the language (even though Ukrainian and Polish are so close that any Pole with some experience and goodwill could also basically understand Ukrainian).
This did not help much, however. Opinion surveys conducted independently by the Mieroszewski Centre in February and December 2024 and, recurrently, by the Centre for the Study of Public Opinion (CBOS) indicated a dramatic decline of Polish sympathy, empathy, and solidarity with Ukrainians in all possible terms. Only 53% of respondents are still in support of accepting Ukrainian refugees (40% oppose it) – a sea change since 2022, when the overwhelming majority of Poles (94% vs. 2%) welcomed Ukrainians, or even since 2015-2018, when 56-60% of respondents supported an open door policy. The latest CBOS poll (from September 2025) revealed a further deterioration of Polish attitudes toward Ukrainians: support for hosting Ukrainian refugees has dropped since January from 53% to 48%, while opposition has reached a record high of 45%.
Far Right on the March
The five-percent change within a mere eight months not only reflects a general downward trend over the past three years but also signals the harmful impact that the presidential election campaign had on public opinion. At least three major candidates openly played the anti-Ukrainian card. This, alas, applies not only to the far-right leader of ‘Confederation’, Sławomir Mentzen (who received 15% of the vote in the first round), and the neo-fascist leader of ‘Polish Crown’, Grzegorz Braun (who received 6% of the votes), but also to the former head of the notorious Institute of National Memory - and current president - Karol Nawrocki, who ultimately defeated his liberal rival, Rafał Trzaskowski, in the second round thanks to the decisive support of Mentzen’s and Braun’s voters.
It is of little surprise that one of Nawrocki’s first steps after assuming office on August 6 was to veto the government bill that extends welfare assistance for Ukrainian refugees. The decision was predictably welcomed by nationalists but condemned vehemently by liberals. Perhaps the most resonant form of condemnation was the Open letter of Polish women to the president, prime minister, Sejm, and Senate. It was signed by the former first ladies Danuta Wałęsa, Jolanta Kwaśniewska, and Anna Komorowska, as well as by many female celebrities like Olga Tokarczuk, Agnieszka Holland, or Krystyna Janda. In strong emotional language, the letter called on politicians not to use helpless women and children who have escaped Russian terror for their populist politics. The letter also addresses the favourite tool of today’s Polish nationalists: reigniting historical disputes with a cynical political calculation. Memory should not be a stick, the signatories averred. ‘A state that resorts to facile symbols instead of healing the wounds of history does not build community. A state cannot be a street theatre. A serious state chooses responsibility over political spectacle: procedures, clear communication, protection of the most vulnerable.’
The letter also addresses the favourite tool of today’s Polish nationalists: reigniting historical disputes with a cynical political calculation
The protests did have an impact: the law, though with some amendments, was ultimately approved and assistance for refugees extended for another six months, like in most EU countries. But the harm incurred by Polish nationalists appears irreparable, damaging both Polish and Ukrainian societies, as well as Polish-Ukrainian relations. Only 30% of Poles expressed sympathy to Ukrainians in January – a 10 percent decline over the course of just one year (and down by 21% since 2022), while 38% expressed antipathy (an increase of 8% within one year, and 21% since 2022). Of all European nations surveyed, Ukrainians are assessed most negatively, above only Roma (Gypsies) and (since 2014) Russians. In the Polish imaginary, Ukrainians are roughly on par with Turks, Chinese, Belarusians and, ironically, Germans – another victim of Polish historical resentment.
Nearby and Apart
Even though Ukrainians have already lived in Poland for several years (and some of them for several decades) and are increasingly integrated in Polish society, the social distance between them and Poles is not diminishing but, on the contrary, seems to steadily grow. Just within one year, the number of Poles who know (or, rather, confess they know) a Ukrainian person declined from 66% to 61%; the number of Poles who have a friend or friends from Ukraine fell down from 15% to 11%, and the number of those who sometimes participate in cultural and other events in Poland related to Ukraine shrank from 14% to 9%.
Even more worrisome is a slight change in public opinion about Ukrainians (just within less than a year): the positive view decreased from 25 to 23 per cent, while the negative increased from 27 to 30 per cent. Most Poles still consider Ukrainians in neutral terms (45% defined them primarily as ‘neighbours’ in February, compared to 47% in December), but the general shift is clearly negative: 14% of respondents consider Ukrainians to be ‘enemies’ (up from 12%), while only 6% see them as ‘allies’ (down from 8%), and a further 6% see them as ‘friends’ or ‘brothers/sisters’ (down from 8%). Now, only 47% of respondents (down from 53%) consider a marriage between a family member and a person from Ukraine acceptable.
The changes may look incremental and insignificant (and the experts from the government-funded Mieroszewski Centre downplay them exactly this way) but, taken together, they indicate a very clear and dangerous downturn in Polish-Ukrainian relations. It goes beyond random personal mistrust and animosity and portends very serious political implications. In the same December-2024 survey by Mieroszewski, only 23% of respondents believe that Ukraine and Poland have shared interests while 36% deny it and 42% (sic) are not sure. Only 42% of respondents (down from 47% a year earlier) support Ukraine’s EU membership, 59% (down from 62%) support Ukraine’s post-war accession to NATO, and 49% (down from 54%) support military aid to Ukraine. The most disturbing is probably the emergence of 14% of Poles who consider Russia’s victory as a preferable outcome of the war because it would arguably stabilize the situation in the region.
All these changes are certainly not exceptional or unique to Poland. The same tendencies can be discerned in many more countries where people are tired with a seemingly endless war, frustrated with a reckless waste of resources, and upset with psychologically uncomfortable reports on daily killings that nobody seems able or willing to stop. The victim who loses and perishes evokes empathy, because it is safe and honourable to express condolences. But the victim who fights and bleeds and does not give up is a nuisance, a killjoy, an irritant; he provokes outsiders to act, to engage, to do something besides the expression of condolence. Poles are exceptional here only in one regard: back in 2022, they demonstrated a spectacular level of solidarity and support for their beleaguered neighbours.
Solidarity has vanished
Three years later, the situation has reversed completely: Poles seem to expose more hostility toward Ukrainians nowadays than any other nation in Europe. Nowhere else are Ukrainians so afraid to speak Ukrainian in public under the plausible threat of being insulted or even beaten by hyper-patriotic natives. Nowhere else are cars with Ukrainian plates damaged and sprayed so often. Nowhere else are show-windows with Ukrainian signs and symbols smashed so coherently and systemically, and are Ukrainian flags pulled down and put on fire – a favourite performance of the notorious Grzegorz Braun, who proudly enjoys immunity as a member of parliament and who was the preferred presidential candidate of 1,243 million ‘patriotic’ Poles. Not all of them follow Braun’s example, but barely any of them abhor his behaviour. Even in Germany, where the Kremlin’s fifth column has deep historical roots, a strong social-demographic background, and a massive representation in Bundestag, the anti-Ukrainian excesses are not so widespread, and the internet is not so overwhelmed with hatred and scorn.
The decline of support for Ukraine and Ukrainians is explicable: human beings have natural limits of sheer attentiveness, let alone of empathy and generosity
The decline of support for Ukraine and Ukrainians is explicable: human beings have natural limits of sheer attentiveness, let alone of empathy and generosity. What surprises in the Polish case is the speed and the scale of the change: it is not just indifference, or boredom, or fatigue that we observe regarding Ukraine. Instead, it seems to be anger, irritation and even aggressiveness from a substantial part of society. In all other countries, ethnically motivated attacks on Ukrainians are very rare and are carried out, in most cases, not by natives but by fellow-refugees from the Global South or, unsurprisingly, by Russians.
Love Thy Neighbour
Yes, there are too many Ukrainians in Poland – more than in any other European country (beside Czechia, in relative terms), and not all of them are as diligent, cultured, and perfectly law-abiding as their hosts would like them to be. But they are neither beggars nor robbers, they take underpaid and unprestigious jobs that Poles are reluctant to do, they have an employment rate of 69% – the highest in the EU, much higher than the total percentage of Poles in Poland who participate in the labour force (56%). Ukrainians reportedly produce 2.7% of Polish GDP and pay about €4 billion in taxes. Focus-group interviews published by the Mieroszewski Centre indicate that the Poles who have first-hand experience with Ukrainians (as community members, partners, or co-workers) praise them usually as ‘reliable, friendly, hardworking, honest, entrepreneurial, and eager to help’. This largely determines their attitude to Ukraine and the Polish aid.
But this is just a tiny fraction of Polish society. The majority takes their knowledge about Ukrainians either from random meetings with them in public spaces (transport, stores, clinics, government offices) or, worse, from mass media or the internet, where all kinds of rumours circulate, including very toxic ones. This feeds into stereotypes, which were candidly shared by the discussants in focus-groups:
- ‘It seems that Poles are now being pushed to the back burner. Ukrainians get more assistance than we do, but we are the ones living here, we pay taxes, we work our whole lives.’
- ‘At first, I felt very sorry for them, but now I’m angry with them because it seems that we’re bearing more costs of this war than they are’
- ‘Politicians should finally start thinking about us, the Poles. Aid to Ukraine is important, but we cannot be paying more than the rest of Europe
- ‘I get the impression that Poland is taking on more than its fair share. Other EU countries should get more involved’
- ‘I’d like the support to be more balanced. Poland is doing a lot, but what do we get in return?’
All these statements are false, there are no data to support them. They are just shameless unscrupulous propaganda, targeting people’s basic instincts. One may blame Russian trolls who perfectly learned how to manipulate Polish great-power complexes, historical traumas and anti-Ukrainian resentments, but the sad truth is that they would not succeed so spectacularly without active support of Polish far-right politicians and benign neglect (a.k.a. tacit approval) of their liberal opponents. An average Pole who repeats the media mantra about ‘ungrateful Ukrainians’ who arguably ‘never thanked us for what we’ve done’, does not communicate regularly with any real Ukrainians, does not follow the statements of Ukrainian politicians, or check the recurrent opinion surveys that indicate Ukrainians’ high respect and gratitude for Poles. An average Pole relies mostly on what he hears from friends, colleagues, and Russian trolls. And Polish liberals, primarily politicians, do not fight back because they know that it is more beneficial, in the short run, to flirt with nationalistic and xenophobic feelings than to oppose them.
Wake-up Call
The first alarm rang probably in 2023 when the so-called Polish farmers, with Russian flags and slogans such as ‘Putin, please come and make the order!’, blockaded the Polish-Ukrainian border protesting against the transport of Ukrainian grain that allegedly flooded the Polish market. In fact, the grain was exported to other countries, primarily via Baltic ports, and if there were any diversions from the agreed routes and transfers, it was up to Polish authorities to investigate the presumed violations, to punish transgressors, and dissuade the public anxiety about the issue. Instead, they allowed the ‘farmers’ not only to block the economic lifeline route of a bleeding country, but even to dump grain from several tracks onto the road – sheer banditry in the eyes of Ukrainians who know how difficult it is to collect this grain from the mined fields in southern Ukraine and transport it under Russian bombs.
The defeat of the Polish liberals by the nationalist far-right was not an instant development: the liberals, including well-respected historians, lost their ground to nationalists gradually, step by step, allowing them tacitly to erode the principles of academic honesty and impartiality.
Volhynia
The tragic events of 1944 in Volhynia, where Ukrainian nationalists launched a violent ethnic cleansing of Polish colonists, were transformed into the focal point of the new Polish martyrological history, overweighing even the crimes of Nazi Germany, let alone the Katyn massacre of Polish POWs that was ordered by Stalin, which is now nearly forgotten.
The Volhynian massacre (or ‘Volhynian tragedy,’ as Ukrainians prefer to call it) has regretfully shed a long and very noxious shadow on the whole joint history of Poland and Ukraine, as well as on present relations. A hideous WWII drama that occurred eight decades ago in eastern Poland under Nazi occupation was transformed by Polish nationalists into a sacred unchallenged narrative where Poles, as the liberal Gazeta Wyborcza sarcastically comments, are presumed to be ‘angels by nature’ who ‘did not kill anyone – and even if they killed Ukrainians, it was only self-defence... Nobody is bothering with the details that it was Polish citizens [of different ethnicities] who killed Polish citizens’. All the government rhetoric and memory politics boldly imply that ‘we should remember only the ethnic Polish victims of the massacre, but not the Ukrainian or Jewish victims – although they were also citizens of the Second Polish Republic’.
The victory of Karol Nawrocki in the presidential election does not bode well for the future of Polish-Ukrainian relations
The victory of Karol Nawrocki in the presidential election, the former director of the Polish Institute of National Remembrance, does not bode well for the future of Polish-Ukrainian relations. Shortly after his victory, Nawrocki submitted legislative amendments to the parliament to criminalize what the proposal calls ‘the dissemination of false claims concerning crimes committed by members and collaborators of the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists, Bandera faction, and the Ukrainian Insurgent Army, as well as other Ukrainian formations collaborating with the Third German Reich, in particular the crime of genocide committed against Poles in Volhynian’.
Dozens of Ukrainian historians signed an open letter to the Polish president, government and the parliament, protesting this biased, one-sided approach to complex historical developments, placing them outside of a broader historical and geopolitical context, and desire to avoid any responsibility for that situation, putting all the blame exclusively on Ukrainians.
To their credit, they avoided a confrontational tone, choosing instead to emphasize the need for a deeper examination of the historical and socio-political roots of the Volhynian tragedy. It is time to pay due attention not only to the xenophobic ideology of Ukraine’s interwar nationalists, but also to three centuries of Polish colonization of Ukrainian lands and the harsh apartheid practiced against Ukrainians - as well as Jews and other minorities - in interwar Poland.
According to the latest opinion survey, as many as 43% of Polish respondents (up from 37% a year earlier, with 44% undecided) believe that Ukrainians should feel guilt towards Poles over certain historical events, while only 9% (with 54% undecided) acknowledge that Poles might also bear guilt towards Ukrainians for episodes in their shares and tangled pasts.
Ukrainian attitudes toward Poland
Over the past few years, the entire dynamic of public opinion has hardly been favourable for possible dialogue and reconciliation. But luckily, Ukrainians do not engage much in this mutual quasi-historical bashing and refrain from ‘symmetric’ responses – either because the ‘Volhynian tragedy’ does not occupy a significant place in their historical consciousness, or simply because Ukrainians are engaged in a war for survival against an enemy that strives to extinguish them as a nation.
On the contrary, Ukrainian attitudes towards Poland are still quite positive. In September of this year, 74% of Ukrainian respondents expressed a positive attitude toward Poland, while only 20% viewed it negatively. In April, those numbers stood at 88% positive and only 9% negative. However, the victory of Karol Nawrocki in the Polish presidential election has contributed to a notable deterioration in these and several other indicators.
This is a striking contrast with the predominantly negative views of Ukraine and Ukrainians held by many Poles. However, the shift in Polish public opinion is unlikely to have a major impact on Poland’s official policy vis-à-vis Ukraine, as even ardent Polish nationalists recognize the vital importance of an independent Ukraine for Poland’s own security. Yet for ordinary Ukrainians, and Ukrainian refugees in particular, the consequences may be far more tangible. They are likely to face the renewed wrath of an old Polish xenophobic nationalism, carelessly released like a genie from a long-sealed historical bottle.
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