COMMENTARY: Poland-Ukraine — When a Historical Quarrel Plays Into Putin's Hands

COMMENTARY: Poland-Ukraine — When a Historical Quarrel Plays Into Putin's Hands

Introduction: Gdańsk Without Zelensky — an Empty Chair That Carries Weight

The symbol too many at a conference for Ukraine

The Ukraine Recovery Conference 2026 was held in Gdańsk — a symbolic city above all others, the cradle of Solidarity, the place where resistance to Soviet totalitarianism took root forty years earlier. And yet, on June 23, 2026, Volodymyr Zelensky's chair was empty. The Ukrainian president had cancelled his participation. In his place, Prime Minister Yuliia Svyrydenko led the delegation. Polish Deputy Prime Minister Władysław Kosiniak-Kamysz confirmed it simply: Zelensky is not coming to this conference.

The irony is cruel. A conference dedicated to defending Ukraine against Russian aggression and post-war reconstruction, organized in the most symbolic city of resistance to Soviet imperialism — and the president of Ukraine is absent. Not because of Russia. Because of Poland. Because of a Polish decision, a Ukrainian reaction, and a diplomatic spiral that, as Prime Minister Donald Tusk said, has only one true beneficiary: Vladimir Putin.

The genesis of a crisis: a military unit and a controversial name

It all began in late May 2026 when Zelensky named a Ukrainian military unit in tribute to the heroes of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA). In Ukraine, the UPA is primarily associated with the fight for national independence against the Soviet regime during and after the Second World War. In Poland, the UPA is inseparable from the Volhynia events, during which its members killed approximately 100,000 Polish civilians — predominantly women and children. Poland applies a term to these events that Ukraine categorically rejects.

This is not a secondary nuance. It is a deep, intergenerational wound, central to Polish national memory. Naming a military unit in tribute to the UPA in the middle of a war where Poland is Ukraine's primary neighboring logistical supporter — that was like lighting a fuse on an explosive charge that everyone knew was there.

The Order of the White Eagle: A Historically Charged Withdrawal

Poland's highest distinction, withdrawn in wartime

In response, Polish president Karol Nawrocki — a figure of the nationalist right, political adversary of Tusk — followed through on a previous threat: he withdrew the Order of the White Eagle from Zelensky, Poland's highest honorary distinction. This gesture was made in the week preceding June 23. Nawrocki's decision is a presidential prerogative — the Tusk government does not control this lever.

The Ukrainian reaction was immediate and forceful. Several senior Ukrainian officials, along with three former Polish presidents, returned their own Polish distinctions in solidarity with Zelensky. This collective gesture had an amplifying effect: what might have remained a managed bilateral tension handled behind closed doors became a publicly visible crisis seen around the world.

The Tusk government caught between two fires

Prime Minister Donald Tusk found himself in an impossible position. His government is deeply pro-Ukrainian, Poland is one of the most important logistical corridors for military aid to Ukraine, and the URC 2026 conference was meant to be a showcase of Polish commitment to Ukrainian reconstruction. But Nawrocki — his chief political adversary — had just triggered a diplomatic crisis at the worst possible moment.

Tusk responded by criticizing both parties: Zelensky's decision on the UPA was in his view a strategic error, and Nawrocki's response was too. Russia is the only beneficiary of disputes between Poland and Ukraine, he said. That is lucid. It is also a statement that did not change much about the concrete situation.

Zelensky's Absence: the Calculations Behind the Decision

Why not go despite everything

No official reason was communicated by Zelensky's office to explain the cancellation. His communications adviser Dmytro Lytvyn simply said that the question of Nawrocki's invitation to the conference was an internal Polish matter. Prime Minister Svyrydenko, in announcing that she would lead the delegation, expressed hope that the conference would lead to concrete agreements strengthening Ukraine's defense capabilities.

But the political reading is transparent: Zelensky, having received the public withdrawal of Poland's highest distinction, could not go to Gdańsk without losing face. Showing up after this public humiliation, without resolution of the crisis, would have been interpreted as a capitulation. He chose absence. That is an understandable calculation. It is also a calculation with a real cost for Ukraine.

What a presence would have meant for Ukraine concretely

The 2026 Recovery Conference was not a symbolic gathering. It was an event designed to mobilize concrete financial commitments for Ukrainian reconstruction — infrastructure, energy, housing, industry. With Zelensky in person, the conference would have carried considerably greater political and media weight. Without him, Svyrydenko did what she could — but a prime minister's delegation does not draw the same media coverage, the same commitments, the same political leverage.

Ukraine potentially lost funding opportunities because of a quarrel over a military naming decision. The war, meanwhile, continues while these opportunities disappear. That is a cost measurable in potential billions not mobilized.

The Polish-Ukrainian Paradox in 2026

A unique strategic partnership, fragile under the weight of history

The Poland-Ukraine relationship is one of the most important for the future of Central Europe. Poland hosts millions of Ukrainian refugees. It is the primary overland corridor for Western military aid. It has argued tirelessly for Ukraine's integration into NATO and the European Union. Both countries share a 535 km border, a common history of oppression under the USSR, and an acute awareness of the Russian threat.

And yet, the history of the 20th century — and particularly the Volhynia events of the 1940s — remains an unhealed wound. This is not a question that good political will alone is sufficient to resolve. It is a question of national memory, collective grief, unresolved historical justice. And when Zelensky names a military unit after an organization that Poland associates with these events, he touches exactly that wound.

Nawrocki: internal political actor or inadvertent destabilization factor

The role of President Nawrocki deserves a cold analysis. Nawrocki comes from the Polish nationalist right, elected in opposition to Tusk's liberal government. He has no direct jurisdiction over day-to-day foreign policy — in Poland, it is the government that conducts diplomacy. But he has symbolic jurisdiction: honorary distinctions, nominations, high-stakes ceremonial gestures.

Withdrawing the Order of the White Eagle from Zelensky was an internal political gesture — a way of signaling to his nationalist base that he took the memory of Volhynia seriously. It was also, objectively, a gesture that weakened the Polish-Ukrainian alliance at the worst moment. Intentionally or not, the result served Moscow.

What Putin Is Watching from Moscow

Western cohesion as Ukraine's first line of defense

The first thing Moscow has sought to destroy since the beginning of the full-scale war is not only the Ukrainian army on the ground — it is the cohesion of the Western coalition supporting Ukraine. Every crack between partners is a strategic victory for Russia, a validation of the Putinist thesis that the West will divide.

A public quarrel between Poland and Ukraine — two of the most important nations in the support for Kyiv — is precisely the type of crack that Moscow celebrates. Russian propaganda channels covered Zelensky's absence from Gdańsk extensively. Pro-Kremlin disinformation accounts amplified the crisis. This is not a coincidence.

Tusk is right — but being right is not always enough

Tusk was right to say Russia is the only beneficiary. But being right about the diagnosis is not enough when the patient is bleeding. The crisis happened. Zelensky was not in Gdańsk. The financing commitments made at URC 2026 may have been smaller than they could have been. And the image of a Poland and Ukraine in tension was broadcast around the world.

What was needed was rapid, discreet, effective crisis management. What happened was a public escalation. Both sides bear a share of responsibility. Both had the diplomatic tools to avoid this. Neither used them fully.

Memory and Geopolitics: Navigating Between Two Truths

The UPA: heroes or perpetrators — depending on who speaks

The debate over the Ukrainian Insurgent Army is one of the most painful in Central Europe. In Ukraine, the UPA is commemorated for its fight against the Soviet occupier — an armed resistance that continued for years after the Second World War. The figure of the UPA is embedded in Ukrainian national memory as a symbol of resistance to national erasure.

In Poland, those same years are marked by the memory of the Volhynia violence, where Polish civilian populations were killed by UPA members in numbers estimated at approximately 100,000 victims. These two memories are irreducibly different — and both are real. Diplomacy cannot erase them. It can only manage them.

What mature management of this issue would require

Mature management of this issue would require that both parties publicly acknowledge the other's sensitivity. From Ukraine: recognition that the commemoration of the UPA profoundly wounds the Poles — without renouncing Ukrainian national memory. From Poland: the capacity to maintain strategic support for Ukraine even in disagreement over memorial issues.

This is not a theoretical position. It is the minimum condition for the Polish-Ukrainian relationship to remain the pillar it must be for European security. Both governments are capable of this management. They did not demonstrate it in June 2026.

Russian Disinformation Capitalizes on Every Western Crack

Pro-Kremlin media amplify the crisis

From the moment Zelensky's absence from Gdańsk was announced, Russian propaganda channels covered the event with manifest enthusiasm. RT, TASS, Sputnik — all presented the crisis as proof that the West is fragmenting, that Ukraine is isolated, that the coalition supporting Kyiv is fraying. These narratives were amplified by disinformation accounts on social media in multiple languages.

This is Russia's operational playbook for years: identify fault lines, amplify them, exploit them. The Polish-Ukrainian crisis did not need Russian manipulation to erupt — it was born from real tensions. But Russia is expert at transforming a manageable bilateral quarrel into a visible international crisis. It succeeded again this time.

The information war as a permanent secondary front

The war Russia is waging against Ukraine is not only military. It is also informational, economic, and diplomatic. Every crack in the Western coalition is exploited. Every disagreement between allies is amplified. Every image of discord between Warsaw and Kyiv yields dividends for Moscow — without firing a single shell.

Understanding this war in all its dimensions means understanding why diplomatic management of bilateral crises between allies is just as important as the delivery of weapons systems. Poland and Ukraine have an interest in resolving this crisis rapidly — not only for their bilateral relationship, but to cut the ground from under Russian propaganda.

Svyrydenko in Gdańsk: What a Substitute Delegation Can and Cannot Do

The commitments made in the head of state's absence

Prime Minister Yuliia Svyrydenko led the Ukrainian delegation at Gdańsk with professionalism. She declared hope that the conference would lead to concrete agreements strengthening Ukraine's defense capabilities and broadening economic cooperation. Commitments were made. Discussions took place. The diplomatic machinery functioned.

But an international conference of this scale, dedicated to the reconstruction of a country at war, with a sitting president absent for diplomatic reasons — it is not the same as with him present. The financial commitments, political announcements, and media effects: everything is diminished. The cost of Zelensky's absence is real even if difficult to quantify precisely.

Poland as an organizer trapped by its own internal crisis

Poland found itself in the uncomfortable position of organizing a Ukrainian reconstruction conference while simultaneously experiencing an acute diplomatic crisis with Ukraine. The Tusk government had wanted to make this event a showcase of its pro-Ukrainian commitment. It became an illustration of the limits of that commitment when domestic politics override strategic imperatives.

The absence of Nawrocki — not invited in the conference format according to his own office — added a layer of ambiguity. Poland was presenting two faces: the Tusk government, pro-Ukrainian and organizer of the event; the Nawrocki presidency, which had just withdrawn its highest distinction from Zelensky. For outside observers, this spectacle was not reassuring.

Conclusion: An Avoidable Crisis That Must Be Quickly Closed

The urgency of diplomatic reconciliation

The June 2026 Polish-Ukrainian crisis is serious, but it is not irreparable. The strategic interests of both countries remain perfectly aligned: stopping Russia, rebuilding Ukraine, securing Central Europe. Nawrocki made a symbolic gesture — it can be counterbalanced by reciprocal gestures. Zelensky named a unit — he can make decisions that acknowledge Polish sensitivity without renouncing Ukrainian national memory.

What is needed is the political will on both sides to move past this crisis before it takes root. The war in Ukraine does not pause for diplomatic quarrels. Putin, for his part, is watching — and rejoicing.

What this crisis reveals about the solidity of the pro-Ukrainian coalition

The coalition supporting Ukraine is not a monolithic bloc. It is composed of nations with different histories, different memories, different internal pressures. That is its strength — its diversity, its resilience. But it is also its weakness: each nation has its own red lines, its own historical wounds, its own electoral constraints.

The Gdańsk crisis did not break the coalition. But it served as a reminder that this coalition is not given. It is built, managed, repaired — through each crisis, each disagreement. Ukraine and Poland have too much to lose from each other to let a historical quarrel — however legitimate — dominate their strategic relationship in wartime.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist

Columnist's transparency note

Position and limitations

This article adopts an openly pro-Ukrainian perspective, while recognizing the legitimacy of Polish grievances concerning the Volhynia events of the 1940s. It takes no position on the historical characterization of those events — that is not the subject of this commentary. The objective is to analyze the political management of the crisis in June 2026 and its strategic consequences for support to Ukraine.

Sources and method

The reported facts come exclusively from verifiable journalistic sources: Notes from Poland, Ukrainian and international media. No quote or statement is invented. Positions attributed to public figures are taken directly from the cited sources. Historically sensitive terms have been treated with the care required in the context of an active conflict.

Sources

Primary sources

Notes from Poland — Zelensky set to skip Ukraine Recovery Conference in Poland amid diplomatic dispute — June 23, 2026

Kyiv Independent — Coverage of the Polish-Ukrainian diplomatic crisis — June 2026

Euromaidan Press — Context of Poland-Ukraine relations and the UPA crisis — June 2026

Secondary sources

The Guardian — Polish-Ukrainian relations and the 2026 recovery conference — June 2026

Foreign Policy — Analysis of tensions within the pro-Ukrainian coalition — June 2026

Ukrainska Pravda — Ukrainian reaction to the withdrawal of the Order of the White Eagle — June 2026