PROFILE: The Gdańsk Conference — Poland and Ukraine Patch a Friendship Fractured by History

Gdańsk, crossroads of history and reconstruction

Gdańsk is not an ordinary city to host a Ukrainian reconstruction conference. It was in this Baltic port city that the Solidarity movement was born in 1980, breaking the communist grip on Poland and heralding the end of the Soviet empire. It is a city steeped in the memory of resistance. That it was chosen for the Ukraine Recovery Conference 2026 is no accident — it is a powerful symbolic message about solidarity between nations that survived Russian domination and those still fighting its consequences.

But the Gdańsk conference, held in late June 2026, revealed a more complex reality: the relationship between Poland and Ukraine — so vital, so complementary against the common Russian threat — is also weighed down by a historical wound that cannot be healed through diplomatic statements. The dispute over the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA) and the deadly violence of Volhynia nearly derailed the conference before it even began.

Zelensky absent, fifteen agreements signed: a conference in half-tones

The decision of President Zelensky not to attend the Gdańsk conference — revealed by Notes from Poland on June 23, 2026 — was a strong diplomatic signal. His partial boycott of the event reflected the depth of the bilateral tension over the UPA question. Yet the conference still delivered concrete results: 15 bilateral Polish-Ukrainian agreements were signed, covering cooperation between state companies and credit agencies. And Prime Ministers Fico and Svyrydenko agreed on a forthcoming meeting in Lviv.

This portrait of a complex relationship between two allied nations — one hosting more than a million Ukrainian refugees, the other fighting the same existential threat — is a story of our time: how democracies manage the tensions between present solidarity and contested memory.

Poland and Ukraine share the same enemy, the same geopolitical fear, the same aspiration to a secure Europe. And yet Zelensky did not come to Gdańsk. That says everything about the complexity of alliances — and about the persistence of wounds that even war does not automatically heal.

Volhynia, 1943: the haunting event

The dispute between Poland and Ukraine over the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA) is rooted in the events of 1943 in Volhynia — then Polish territory, today western Ukraine. UPA units perpetrated violent actions against the Polish civilian population in this region, causing tens of thousands of deaths. For Poland, these events constitute a mass crime deserving explicit acknowledgement. For Ukraine, the UPA is also — and above all — a symbol of resistance against Nazi and Soviet occupation, an emblem of Ukrainian national identity.

This dual reading of the same organization — national liberation movement for some, perpetrators of violence against civilians for others — is at the heart of a memory dispute that has resurfaced with new intensity since 2022. The war has amplified identity sensitivities on both sides, making memorial compromises harder to reach precisely when practical solidarity between the two countries has never been more necessary.

The 2026 diplomatic dispute

In 2026, Poland placed implicit conditions linked to the UPA question in its diplomatic interactions with Ukraine. The formulation of a clearer official Ukrainian position on the Volhynia events — including explicit recognition of Polish victims — is a recurring demand from Warsaw. Kyiv has made gestures in this direction, but never sufficiently explicit in the eyes of the Polish political class, which manages its own internal electoral pressures on this sensitive subject.

Zelensky's decision not to attend the Gdańsk conference in person must be read in this context. It was not a diplomatic caprice — it was a calculated response to Polish pressure deemed excessive given the wartime context. His absence sent a message: Ukraine will not sacrifice its national memory under pressure from its allies, even the closest ones.

National memories are living constructions, not archival documents. When a nation is fighting for its survival, asking it to revise its founding memory — even for legitimate reasons — is a pressure that can break rather than reinforce. The timing of this memory dispute is particularly unfortunate.

Economic diplomacy as the terrain of compromise

Despite Zelensky's absence and the tensions around the UPA question, the Gdańsk conference produced concrete results. Fifteen bilateral Polish-Ukrainian agreements were signed, covering areas ranging from cooperation between state companies to arrangements between export credit agencies. These agreements represent a genuine commitment to Ukraine's reconstruction, anchored in durable economic and institutional relations.

The fact that these agreements could be signed despite the ongoing diplomatic crisis demonstrates an institutional maturity in Polish-Ukrainian relations: the two countries are capable of separating contentious subjects from concrete commitments. This is a form of diplomatic pragmatism worth noting — even if it is unsatisfying for those who want to see both countries fully reconciled.

The content of the agreements: reconstruction in motion

The agreements signed in Gdańsk cover key reconstruction sectors: infrastructure, energy, housing, financial cooperation. Polish state companies signed partnerships with their Ukrainian counterparts. Export credit agencies established financing frameworks for Polish companies participating in reconstruction. These commitments transform solidarity rhetoric into concrete investments.

Poland is particularly well positioned to play a central role in Ukrainian reconstruction — geographically, linguistically, economically. Polish construction, civil engineering, and services companies already have a presence in Ukraine. The Gdańsk agreements formalize and amplify that presence. For Poland, it is also a long-term strategic investment in a neighbour that could become a major economic partner once peace returns.

Fifteen agreements signed during a diplomatic crisis — that is proof that practical interests ultimately prevail over symbolic tensions. Not always. Not completely. But enough to keep moving forward. Sometimes that is all history needs.

Slovakia as an unexpected mediator

The presence of Slovak Prime Minister Robert Fico at the Gdańsk conference and his meeting with Ukrainian Prime Minister Yulia Svyrydenko represent an interesting diplomatic dynamic. Fico is not a natural ally of Ukraine — he has in the past expressed ambiguous positions on sanctions against Russia and on Ukrainian military support. His presence in Gdańsk and his decision to agree to a bilateral meeting in Lviv with Svyrydenko suggest a tactical recalibration.

This recalibration may have several explanations: pressure from his European partners, Slovak economic interests in Ukrainian reconstruction, or a realistic assessment that Slovakia cannot indefinitely stand apart from the regional political dynamics the war has created. Whatever the reason, the Lviv meeting — if it takes place — will represent a test of Fico's capacity to engage constructively with Ukraine.

Prime Minister Svyrydenko and reconstruction diplomacy

Yulia Svyrydenko, Ukrainian Prime Minister and architect of the country's wartime economic strategy, was the central figure on the Ukrainian side at the Gdańsk conference in Zelensky's absence. Her capacity to navigate diplomatic tensions while concluding concrete agreements illustrates the pragmatism of the Ukrainian approach: never losing sight of strategic objectives — reconstruction financing, international support — even when political conditions are complicated.

Svyrydenko's decision to agree to a meeting in Lviv with Fico is a departure signal: Ukraine is ready to engage with difficult interlocutors, provided the engagement yields concrete results. Lviv — a city in western Ukraine, a symbol of Ukrainian culture and a gateway to Europe — is a choice of venue that says something about the message Kyiv wants to send.

Svyrydenko at Gdańsk represents pragmatic Ukraine — the one that knows it cannot afford to lose allies or funders even when relations are strained. It is a form of diplomatic maturity that contrasts with the sometimes more emotional posture of the Ukrainian political scene.

More than a million Ukrainian refugees in Poland

Poland has been hosting more than a million Ukrainian refugees since February 2022 — the largest concentration outside Ukraine itself. This hospitality, initially carried by a genuine surge of solidarity, has created social and economic tensions that have progressively altered the Polish political climate. Questions of labour market competition, pressure on public services, perceived cultural differences — these tensions are real and are being politically exploited by some parties.

The Polish government navigates between solidarity with Ukraine — sincere in its geopolitical motivations — and domestic pressures from a population whose initial generosity has partially eroded. The UPA dispute fits within this broader context: for some Polish voters, the demand for explicit recognition of UPA crimes is also a way of setting conditions on a solidarity that has a visible cost.

Solidarity under pressure and its natural limits

Solidarity between nations is neither abstract nor unlimited. It has economic costs, social tensions, and memorial contradictions. Poland has shown exceptional generosity toward Ukraine since 2022 — in terms of refugee reception, political and military support, and arms transfer facilitation. This generosity deserves to be recognized and rewarded, notably in reconstruction discussions where Polish companies should be priority partners.

But generosity cannot be unilateral indefinitely without institutional and symbolic reciprocation. Ukraine will have to find, sooner or later, the words on the question of Volhynia that allow Poland to continue justifying its support to its own population. Not at the expense of Ukrainian memory — but in a language of mutual acknowledgement that sacrifices neither.

Poland has been Ukraine's most generous ally in Europe. That generosity deserves symbolic reciprocation on the memory question. I am not saying Ukraine must renounce its history. I am saying that the Polish wounds of Volhynia deserve to be explicitly acknowledged — not for political Poland, but for the families who still carry that grief.

What the conference actually delivered

The Ukraine Recovery Conference 2026 in Gdańsk produced measurable results: 15 bilateral Polish-Ukrainian agreements, the agreed meeting in Lviv, and financial commitments from several international partners. But according to Euromaidan Press's analysis of June 28, 2026, evocatively titled "Rebuilding Ukraine While It Burns — Calling It Progress," the conference did not deliver to the level the situation demands.

The main critique is that financing announcements remain largely conditional — subject to future evaluations, governance mechanisms yet to be developed, and political conditions to be satisfied. Meanwhile, Ukrainian infrastructure continues to be destroyed by Russian bombardments at a pace exceeding already-committed reconstruction capacity. The conference produced promises; Ukraine needs concrete and steel.

The gap between needs and commitments

Total reconstruction cost estimates for Ukraine vary by source, but the most recent figures from the World Bank and the Ukrainian government fall between $400 and $500 billion. Cumulative commitments since 2022 represent a fraction of that amount. The gap is vertiginous — and it widens as the war continues and new damage accumulates.

The Gdańsk conference had the merit of keeping reconstruction on the international agenda at a moment when support fatigue for Ukraine is felt in some capitals. But it did not resolve the fundamental problem: the gap between Ukraine's real needs and the willingness of international partners to respond to them at the necessary scale.

Rebuilding Ukraine while it burns — the image is accurate and cruel. You cannot count a reconstruction conference's successes while Russian missiles destroy faster than anything is being rebuilt. Military victory is the precondition for any durable reconstruction. Never forget that.

Two key allies in European security

Poland is the NATO country spending the highest proportion of its GDP on defence — more than 4% in 2026. It has developed one of Europe's most powerful armies and has played a central logistical role in arms deliveries to Ukraine. Ukraine, for its part, is the country absorbing Russian military pressure on behalf of all of Europe. The strategic complementarity between the two countries is total.

In the context of Ukraine's EU accession process — whose negotiations advance despite obstacles — Poland is one of the most ardent advocates of Ukrainian integration. Warsaw understands better than anyone why a Ukraine inside the EU is a security gain for all of Central Europe. This strategic conviction is the ground on which the bilateral relationship rests, whatever the tensions of the moment.

The UPA dispute as a test of diplomatic maturity

The capacity of both countries to manage their memory dispute without compromising their strategic alliance is a test of diplomatic maturity that both governments must pass. It is not a test they fully passed in Gdańsk — Zelensky's absence illustrates that. But they partially passed it: agreements were signed, the Lviv meeting was agreed, institutional relations survived the tension.

Examples from European diplomatic history show that difficult memorial reconciliations are possible — between France and Germany, between Poland and Germany itself. These reconciliations took time, required courageous symbolic gestures from both sides, and demanded sustained political will. The model exists. The question is whether Poland and Ukraine choose it.

Franco-German reconciliation seemed impossible in 1945. Today the two countries are Europe's backbone. Polish-Ukrainian reconciliation is possible — but it requires both countries to decide to put the future ahead of the past, without erasing that past. That is the most difficult path and the only one that leads anywhere.

Who governs Ukrainian reconstruction?

One of the central questions at the Gdańsk conference was governance of the reconstruction. Billions of dollars in commitments only transform into buildings, roads, and electrical grids if decision-making, oversight, and anti-corruption mechanisms function. Ukraine has made progress on transparency and governance — its score on anti-corruption indices has improved since 2022. But challenges remain considerable in a country at war where administrative structures are under extreme pressure.

The European Bank for Reconstruction and Development (EBRD), the World Bank, and various international trust funds have been mobilized to manage financing flows with enhanced oversight mechanisms. These structures are necessary — but they also create a layer of international bureaucracy that slows disbursements. The challenge is ensuring governance without paralyzing action.

The role of private companies and necessary guarantees

Ukraine's reconstruction cannot be financed solely by public funds. It requires massive private investment — which implies that investors have reasonable confidence in the country's legal and economic stability, in the protection of their assets, and in the eventual return on their investments. Investment guarantees, political risk insurance mechanisms, and robust legal frameworks are prerequisites for mobilizing private capital.

The Gdańsk conference addressed these questions, and the agreements signed between Polish and Ukrainian export credit agencies represent precisely risk-reduction instruments for private companies. This is the invisible mechanics of reconstruction — less visible than political speeches, but fundamental for translating money into concrete achievements.

Reconstruction is a promise. A guaranteed export credit is concrete. Ukraine needs concrete. Less speeches about solidarity, more financial instruments that allow Polish-Ukrainian companies to open construction sites next week.

National narratives that evolve

National narratives are not fixed artefacts — they evolve over time, under the influence of historical research, internal political dynamics, and the demands of international relations. The UPA in Ukraine and its evaluation in Poland illustrate how two nations can look at the same historical event through fundamentally different interpretive frameworks, each legitimately rooted in its own national trajectory.

Ukrainian and Polish historians have been working together for decades on the Volhynia events. Joint commissions have produced work acknowledging the complexity of the facts — the UPA's violence against Polish civilians, but also the context of Nazi occupation, reciprocal violence, and the complexity of resistance under multiple occupations. This academic work exists. It needs to inform political decisions more.

Memorial reconciliation as a process, not an event

Two national memories are not reconciled by a decree or a joint declaration. Reconciliation is a process — of mutual acknowledgement, shared narrative, collective mourning. This process is particularly difficult to conduct during a war, when national identities are mobilized in logics of survival. But it can begin — and it has already begun in the academic and civil society communities of both countries.

Politics can accompany or slow this process. In Gdańsk, it slowed it somewhat — with Zelensky's absence and the tensions surrounding the conference. But it also partially accompanied it — with the 15 agreements, the agreed Lviv meeting, and the continuity of bilateral engagement despite everything. The history of Polish-Ukrainian reconciliation will be written over several decades. Gdańsk 2026 is a difficult chapter, not the conclusion.

Wounded national memories heal slowly. Sometimes not at all. But Poland and Ukraine do not have the luxury of letting their past determine their future. They share a border, a threat, and a European aspiration. That is stronger than Volhynia — if they decide it is.

A population shaping both societies

More than a million Ukrainians in Poland — this is not merely a demographic figure. It is a sociological transformation of both countries. Ukrainian children attend school in Poland. Ukrainian professionals work in Polish companies. Neighbourhoods of Warsaw, Kraków, and Gdańsk have acquired a Ukrainian character. These individuals are living ambassadors of a bilateral relationship being built daily, far from conference rooms.

When these refugees one day return to Ukraine — and most hope to be able to — they will have lived in Poland, understood Polish society, formed human bonds that will last. This shared experience is an asset of Polish-Ukrainian reconciliation that historians had not foreseen. It creates individual bridges that politics alone cannot build.

The tension between integration and return

For the Polish government, the question of Ukrainian refugee status is a delicate balance: hosting durably those who need protection, while keeping open the possibility of return when conditions allow. Integration policies that facilitate access to the labour market and public services, while maintaining ties with Ukraine and preparing for an eventual return — this is a difficult balance to manage politically and administratively.

Ukraine's reconstruction itself is a key factor in this balance: the more living and security conditions in Ukraine improve, the more refugees will be in a position to choose return. The agreements signed in Gdańsk — by contributing to reconstruction — indirectly create the conditions that will eventually allow these families to go home.

A Ukrainian child learning Polish in a Warsaw school, making friends, discovering another way of being European — that child is a living bridge between two nations. When they return to Ukraine, they will carry with them an understanding of Poland that no treaty can create. This is the reconciliation happening in school playgrounds.

Rebuilding while it burns: the Ukrainian paradox

The Ukraine Recovery Conference in Gdańsk 2026 was held while Russian missiles continued striking Ukrainian territory daily. Newly repaired energy infrastructure was destroyed again. Buildings rebuilt since 2022 were damaged once more. This paradox — rebuilding while destruction continues — is at the heart of the Ukrainian tragedy.

Some economists and planners debate the wisdom of investing massively in reconstruction before the fighting ends. The opposing logic prevails: waiting for peace before beginning to rebuild would leave Ukraine in a state of total dilapidation that would make the return of refugees impossible and compromise the economic viability of the country. Rebuilding must happen simultaneously with fighting — with all the waste and inefficiency that entails.

The priority of critical infrastructure

Facing limited resources and continuous destruction, reconstruction must prioritize the most critical infrastructure: electrical grid, water, housing, hospitals, schools. These priorities were discussed in Gdańsk and Polish-Ukrainian commitments partially reflect this hierarchy. But effective reconstruction also requires sufficient air defence to ensure construction sites are not destroyed as soon as they open — one more argument in favour of sustained military support for Ukraine.

You cannot discuss reconstruction without discussing defence. Every Russian missile destroys euros of reconstruction investment. Military support for Ukraine and support for its reconstruction are the same thing seen from two different angles. Separating them is an illusion — Gdańsk at least had the merit of placing both side by side.

Gdańsk in the international diplomatic landscape

The Gdańsk conference was closely observed by Ukraine's international partners — the United States, the EU, the United Kingdom, and partners in Asia and Africa evaluating their engagement in reconstruction. The maintenance of an international platform dedicated to reconstruction, even in a context of bilateral diplomatic tensions, sends a signal of resilience: reconstruction is progressing, international engagement is not evaporating, the Ukrainian project remains alive.

This signal has value in the long war of attrition that Putin is seeking to wage — not only on the battlefield, but in the psychology of the democracies supporting Ukraine. Every conference held, every agreement signed, every commitment formalized says: the West is not tiring, Ukraine continues building its future even under bombs.

The notable absences and their meanings

Zelensky's absence was the most commented, but other absences or diminished presences were also noted. Partners who had sent high-level delegations to previous conferences represented themselves at lower levels — a potential sign of some fatigue or internal political reservations. Analyzing these diplomatic signals is important for understanding the evolution of long-term international support for Ukraine.

Diplomatic conferences are measured as much by who was absent as by what was signed. Zelensky's absence from Gdańsk was a strong signal. The less remarked absences of other delegations may be more worrying — they suggest a fatigue that official speeches do not name.

Two nations condemned to get along

Poland and Ukraine cannot afford a lasting rupture. They share a border of more than 500 km. Poland depends on Ukrainian stability for its own security. Ukraine depends on Polish support for its survival. This geopolitical interdependence is the most solid foundation of their relationship — more solid than friendship speeches, stronger than memory disputes.

The meeting agreed in Lviv between Fico and Svyrydenko is a step in the right direction. The very holding of the Gdańsk conference despite the tensions is another step. And the 15 agreements signed are proof that practical interests ultimately prevail over symbolic tensions. The Polish-Ukrainian relationship is difficult — it will remain so for a long time. But it is fundamentally solid.

The path toward lasting reconciliation

The path toward durable memorial reconciliation will pass through several stages: continuing historical dialogue between researchers from both countries, courageous symbolic political gestures from both sides, the institutionalization of shared memory in common sites and commemorations, and the construction of a common European identity that can contain and transcend conflicting national identities.

This path is long. It will not be travelled during the war. But it can be marked — by gestures, words, commitments that signal the direction. Gdańsk 2026, despite its limitations, may have contributed a few additional markers to this path.

Poland and Ukraine have a choice between a complicated but existing relationship, and a rupture that would serve only Moscow. They do not really have a choice. That may be the good news in this story: when there is no choice, you eventually find the path.

A Europe managing several crises simultaneously

The Gdańsk conference was held in an extraordinarily charged European context: war in Ukraine, multiple geopolitical tensions, economic pressures, and the rise of populism in several member states. Europe in 2026 is a Europe under pressure managing simultaneously military and economic support for Ukraine, its own institutional reform, and the internal tensions that the war and its economic consequences have generated.

In this context, the fact that the Gdańsk conference took place, that agreements were signed, and that the Polish-Ukrainian relationship survived its own crisis is a positive note — modest, but real. Europe holds, imperfectly, under pressure. That may be all that can be asked for now.

Reconstruction as a European political project

The reconstruction of Ukraine is also a European political project — an act of faith in the future, an investment in a European Ukraine, a declaration that Europe will not let the war define its future. This project transcends bilateral disputes and memory tensions. It says: we build together, even in adversity, even with our contradictions, even with our wounds. That is, ultimately, what it means to be European.

Rebuilding Ukraine is building Europe. Not metaphorically — literally. Every agreement signed in Gdańsk, every euro invested in a Ukrainian school or electrical grid, is an investment in the Europe our children will inhabit. The Polish and Ukrainian diplomats who signed those 15 agreements did so in the name of something larger than themselves.

What the city teaches diplomacy

Gdańsk saw Solidarity born — a movement that took twenty years to transform an empire. The Polish resistance to Soviet domination was long, painful, and full of setbacks. It ultimately prevailed. Polish-Ukrainian reconciliation and the reconstruction of Ukraine are also long-haul projects — projects demanding patience, perseverance, and the capacity to keep moving forward even when results are insufficient.

The Gdańsk 2026 conference did not resolve tensions between Poland and Ukraine. It did not secure full reconstruction financing. It did not bring Zelensky into the room. But it produced 15 agreements, an agreed meeting, and proof that two nations can advance together even when they struggle to look each other in the eye. Sometimes that is all history needs to continue.

The long arc of solidarity

Solidarity between nations — like solidarity between individuals — is not measured in a single moment. It is measured over time, in the capacity to traverse difficult moments without breaking. Poland and Ukraine are traversing one of those moments. History will say whether they found the path. The 15 Gdańsk agreements, modest but real, suggest they are still looking for it — which is already a form of hope.

Gdańsk 2026: fifteen agreements, a diplomatic crisis managed, a Lviv meeting agreed. It is not a triumph. But in the brutality of this war and its human contradictions, it is perhaps already a great deal. Diplomacy, like reconstruction, is built brick by brick.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist

Editorial stance

I am not a journalist but a columnist and analyst. My expertise lies in observing and analysing the geopolitical, economic and strategic dynamics that shape our world. My work is to take political strategies apart, to understand global economic movements, to put the decisions of international actors in context and to offer analytical perspectives on the changes that are redefining our societies.

I do not claim the cold objectivity of traditional journalism, which stops at reporting facts. I claim analytical clarity, rigorous interpretation and a deep understanding of the complex issues that concern us all. My role is to give meaning to the facts, to place them in their historical and strategic context, and to offer a critical reading of events.

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