How Poland's anti-Ukraine rhetoric plays into Kremlin hands
On Saturday, September 20, in Warsaw, a homeless man in a bus beat Zenobia Żaczek. Ms. Zenobia dared to reprimand him: he was insulting and harassing an elderly passenger, a Ukrainian woman, for speaking Ukrainian. And he was shouting in his native language that "this is Poland," about Volyn, about Bandera, and that she should "get the... out of here." Ms. Zenobia—for "interfering in matters that were not her own"—was headbutted. Her nose started bleeding. Her fellow passengers went deaf and numb, noses in their phones, gazes out the window.Someone in Wrocław tore the license plates off a Ukrainian car and spray-painted "Na front" ("To the front"). Maybe a Russian agent did it, maybe not, but the comments from Polish internet users are already terrifying. On September 5 in Białołęka, a group of men insulted and beat Ukrainians out of national hatred. There are dozens of examples from recent weeks; there is no point in multiplying them. Poland in 2025. A pre-war time.How little it took for Braun's lexicon about the "Ukrainization" and "Banderization" of Poland to take root. How easily it turned out to transform Putin's war victims into "Ukrainians," outsiders who "wheedle" for aid, avoid battle, graze on others' property, and live "high on the hog." It is worth reading the report by the Bronisław Geremek Foundation on disinformation about refugees from Ukraine in Poland.President Karol Nawrocki, with public approval, vetoed the 800+ law for foreigners. Now, according to the wishes of the defeated democratic candidate, Ukrainians, to receive the payment, will have to pay taxes, have a PESEL number, and send their children to school. And, of course, they must work. How is a Ukrainian woman with two small children, whose husband is fighting at the front, supposed to do this? Poles are not required to work to receive 800+. What is permitted to the voivode... After all, we are in our own home.Nawrocki signed a new law on aid to Ukraine, but—for the last time, because he will not agree to any further support. From next year, Ukrainian war refugees—mostly women, children, and the elderly—are to stay in Poland "on general terms." That is, to receive a temporary residence permit or stay in the country for 90 days within a six-month period.For the Polish president, the war is over. Meanwhile, the European Union states have extended the right of residence for refugees from Ukraine until 2027."Experts are unanimous: restricting the right to 800+ will yield meager savings for the state. In contrast, no one is counting the losses, and they will be unprecedented."And not only in the social sphere, where an anti-migration spiral is being spun, but also in the economic sphere, because many Ukrainians, so needed by the labor market, will simply leave. The times are pre-war, but we are already saying our farewells to the war refugees. Let their own compatriots worry about them now—that says it all. Ukraine is bleeding in the war, is under constant rocket and drone fire, and is going into debt for its defense. Now, on top of this, it will have to organize social assistance and build temporary housing for war refugees returned from wealthy, "fraternal" Poland.A Poland that will soon join the G20—the club of the twenty richest nations in the world. A Poland whose sovereignty currently hangs on the shoulder of the Ukrainian soldier."Debanderization" and the "Volhynian massacre," or reconciliation Polish-styleOur old grievances are more important to us than the current traumas of Ukrainians. In a country engulfed by war, exhumations of the victims of ethnic cleansing carried out by the UPA are ongoing. This was supposed to be a condition and a gateway to reconciliation. But is it so?Here, in the fourth year of the war, the Polish Sejm on June 4 unanimously elevated July 11 to the rank of a national holiday. This is the democrats' response to the radicalization of attitudes towards Ukrainians. It is not enough that we have the National Day of Remembrance of Poles—victims of the genocide committed by the OUN and UPA in the eastern lands of the Second Polish Republic; now it is an official state holiday.No one bothers their head with "details" like the fact that Polish citizens were killing Polish citizens. The previous president, Andrzej Duda, signed the law, even though it contradicts the constitution, which defines the Polish Nation as a community of all citizens—without distinguishing between Poles, Ukrainians, Germans, Belarusians, Jews, or Silesians.So, we are to remember only the ethnically Polish victims of the massacre, and not the Ukrainian or Jewish ones—even though they were also citizens of the Second Polish Republic. Where is the equality of citizens before the law? Does this mean we are pushing national minorities outside the brackets of Polishness? Or can only an ethnic Pole be a Polish citizen, as the midwife of Polish nationalism, Roman Dmowski, wanted?By the way, Dmowski, like Putin, believed that Ukrainians were not an independent people, but Ruthenians or Little Russians, and that one should cooperate with Russia on this matter."Where did Polish counterintelligence go when Russian agents of influence stroll through the Sejm like it's Nevsky Prospekt?"Earlier, under the patriotic blackmail of the right, the Sejm unanimously passed an amendment to the law on the Institute of National Remembrance, which introduced a three-year prison sentence for "denying the crimes of Ukrainian nationalists." The Constitutional Tribunal criticized this term because politicians did not specify who exactly was meant. Besides, it is known that Poles are "angels by nature," they didn't kill anyone, and if they did kill Ukrainians, it was only "in self-defense." And anyone who thinks otherwise will be dealt with by the prosecutor. Is this how to research the painful Polish-Ukrainian history?During the election campaign, Nawrocki cynically reopened the Volhynian wound. He made Ukraine's accession to NATO and the EU conditional on exhumations and "debanderization." We have not heard him change his mind since the elections, although the exhumations continue. On the contrary—twice in the last four months, he has spoken in the Mecca of "Kresy" circles—at the monument to the Volhynian massacre in Domosław in Podkarpacie.The 14-ton monument by Andrzej Pityński is as huge (20 meters high) as it is crude in its message. It is an eagle in flames, with a cross carved into its body, in which a three-pronged pitchfork—an allusion to the Trident—is stuck, with a child impaled on it. At the foot, there is a mother with an infant in the fire and children's heads impaled on stakes, also in flames. On the eagle's wings are the names of the localities where the murders committed by the UPA took place.Why do Poles believe that Ukrainians are attacking us?Nawrocki speaks of genocide and cites the highest figure—120,000 Poles, although this is not backed by scientific research.The numbers can be debated. Identifying the victims and counting them is the duty of historians, although this will not change the facts. The UPA massacres happened. Criminal nationalism was and is a disease of many nations, including Ukrainians."But there were also killings of Ukrainian civilians by Poles. There were forced deportations to the USSR, there was Operation Vistula. There is a difficult balance of mutual grievances. Nawrocki does not mention this. Is this a tone of reconciliation? Or confrontation?"From politicians, we hear: Poles have nothing to apologize to Ukrainians for, and the formula "We ask for forgiveness and we forgive" are empty words. Even though the democratic opposition, the Churches, John Paul II, and Polish presidents—including Lech Kaczyński—called for it.Qui bono? Who benefits from this?In a telephone conversation with Donald Trump on August 13, before the summit in Alaska, Nawrocki mentioned the 105th anniversary of the Battle of Warsaw—the victory over the Bolsheviks. We do not know if he added that without the heroism of the Ukrainian Sich units, which covered the rear of the retreating Polish army, this victory probably would not have happened."The reward from the Poles for Symon Petliura was the internment of his troops, and later the Polish-Soviet division of Ukraine at the conference in Riga."The Endeks made a deal with the Soviets. Then the Endeks from the Chjeno-Piast government, not wanting to irritate the USSR, in "gratitude" for the cooperation of our peoples—forced Petliura to leave Poland. He was assassinated in exile in France.It takes one's breath away how easily short-sighted national egoism, megalomania, and, of course, an unjustified sense of superiority over a fraternal nation are sprouting today. Russian disinformation reigns on the internet—it stupefies, provokes, and incites conflict. But why is it so effective? Why do so many Poles believe that we were attacked by "Ukrainian drones" and that "Ukraine dragged us into a war"? Why is the ground of provocation, on which the seed of hatred falls, so fertile?This is a matter for collective therapy. The thing is, therapy makes sense if we agree on the facts about ourselves. And with this, to put it mildly, we are worse off. This is even understandable. Just as no French historian managed to settle accounts with the collaborationist Vichy regime—the American historian Robert Paxton did it for them—so no Polish historian has broken the "Kresy" legend and Sienkiewicz's picturesque tales.Poles in the grip of pseudo-historyOnly Daniel Beauvois did this. His opus magnum "The Ukrainian Triangle" about relations in Volhynia, the Kyiv region, and Russian Podolia did not reach a wide audience. Too harsh, too difficult, and too true.Beauvois, far from Marxist sympathies, spent 25 years in Russian and Ukrainian archives. He describes the order that prevailed in the estates of the then Polish nobility. They resembled slavery on the cotton plantations of Louisiana. The Polish master was God, and the Ruthenian peasant was cattle; he could be beaten with impunity, or even killed. Beauvois writes about the hatred between the Polish Catholic manor and the Ruthenian Orthodox village. The accumulated religious, class, and ethnic contradictions repeatedly erupted in rebellions, which were brutally suppressed. The Polish nobility did not hesitate to call on Russian gendarmes for help to disperse the "rabble" with whips or sabers."I consider the disenchantment of pseudo-history to be the most urgent task for historians of Central and Eastern Europe. Why should a morbid memory be dressed in metaphysics? The fight against national megalomanias requires sobriety and reason, not patriotic ecstasies," said Beauvois."The researcher finally formulates the thesis of the Polish colonization of Ukraine—which seems incredible to us Poles: how could a nation that was itself oppressed for centuries and prides itself on not having colonies (because it was too weak for that, although the Second Polish Republic had great ambitions) oppress other nations?"As we can see, it could—even if it was not a conquest by "fire and sword," but a slow assimilation of Ruthenian elites into Polishness and the displacement of Orthodoxy in favor of Catholicism.It was precisely this "siphoning off" of elites—also Belarusian and Lithuanian—that led to these countries building their literature, culture, state-building thought, and national identity at the end of the 19th century—in opposition to Poland. In Ukraine, this resulted, among other things, in the formation of a radical nationalist current with all its fatal consequences.Does not our post-colonial superiority complex—of the master over the peasant—give rise today to that fertile ground on which the seed of Russian propaganda falls? After all, Ukraine is the "Kresy." Our "Polish Kresy.""Ukrainians must be absorbed." Self-government was liquidated, the army was sent for "pacification"We say "Polish society," although, of course, there is no single "we": some think one way, others another, but undoubtedly—the anti-Ukrainian trend is growing. The right has abandoned the "poisoned" legacy of Jerzy Giedroyc and Juliusz Mieroszewski and their ULB doctrine—the recognition of the right of Ukrainians, Lithuanians, and Belarusians to self-determination. Today, we are offered to bet on national egoism and assertiveness towards Kyiv. Dmowski's coffin has been revived, the spirit of the late 1930s Sanation has been revived.If the First Polish Republic and the Polish landowners during the partitions did not leave good memories of themselves, the Second Polish Republic did not correct this. Although it could have and was even obliged to do so after the Versailles system by the Council of Ambassadors, which entrusted it with the temporary administration of Eastern Galicia.It was supposed to enjoy the same autonomy that was introduced in Silesia.In the Ternopil, Lviv, and Stanislaviv voivodeships, sejmiks were to operate, divided into two equal curiae—Polish and Ukrainian.Decisions were to be made jointly.A Ukrainian university was to be established in Lviv.The Ukrainian language was to be an equal official language in these three voivodeships.A ban on state land colonization was to be in effect.The law that was supposed to implement these obligations was never passed. The authorities renamed Eastern Galicia to "Eastern Little Poland." Instead of autonomy, colonization and Polonization of all of Western Ukraine, including Volhynia, began—in the spirit of Roman Dmowski's incorporation concept.First, to dominate the Ukrainians, then to make them a minority in their own country, and finally—to absorb them. New—entirely Polish—villages were settled on lands parceled out under the agrarian reform. Land from the parcellation was distributed mainly to Polish colonists, which fueled neighborly envy and hidden hatred. Repeated "pacifications" by the Polish army, the extermination of Ukrainian elites, and the liquidation of public organizations, self-government, and cooperatives completed the picture.Let's stay a little longer in the realities of the Second Polish Republic. We were a sovereign state, masters in our own country, and we ourselves shaped the policy towards minorities. There was no one to blame. There were no occupiers. This is our responsibility.First Zaolzie, then Lithuania. A "power" mania like Mussolini'sIn 1938, the Second Polish Republic, together with Adolf Hitler, took part in the partition of Czechoslovakia when Polish troops occupied Zaolzie. A nationalist euphoria erupted in the nation. Similar to the one that gripped the Italians after Mussolini's conquest of Ethiopia, and also the Germans and Austrians after the Anschluss of Austria. Soon, Poland issued an ultimatum to little Lithuania. Then "marches with the slogan: 'Leader, lead us to Kaunas!' passed through the streets of Polish cities, as if the Polish coat of arms featured not a white eagle, but Koziołek Matołek," wrote Jan Józef Lipski.At the end of the 1930s, an obsession with Poland-as-a-power flourished among the Sanation elites. The Second Polish Republic was to lead the so-called Third Europe—from Finland through the Baltics, Hungary, and Romania all the way to the Adriatic and the Black Sea. No one cared that other countries did not want this.It is not difficult to recognize the modern props of this operetta repository in the activities of Andrzej Duda, which he proudly called the "foreign policy of the Presidential Palace." The government of Mateusz Morawiecki also picked it up. After all, foreign policy as an imitation of the outdated and compromised Sanation model did not come from nowhere. The elites of "Law and Justice" also had their "power" mania.The late Professor Waldemar Paruch was a researcher of the political practice of the Sanation. It is no wonder that under Morawiecki he became the head of the "brain of the state"—the Center for Strategic Analyses. He wrote a monograph "From State Consolidation to National Consolidation. National Minorities in the Political Thought of the Piłsudski Camp (1926–39)." Just like in the late Sanation era, the "PiS" consolidation of the state took place according to the recipe: "divide and rule, totalize the state, and make peace with the far right." Paruch knew what he was talking about.World champions of cockiness. Zelenskyy is right not only about the dronesHistorical analogies can be misleading, but there are some that cannot be ignored. It is worth taking a closer look—for the sake of changing fate.Comparing the "pre-war times," that is, those immediately preceding the September defeat of 1939, with the current pre-war time anno Domini 2025, one can recall several eloquent facts.The Second Polish Republic produced about 100,000 artillery shells per year, and now we produce less than half of that—30,000–40,000. Enough for a few days of combat.The pre-war flotilla had 18 relatively modern units; today the Polish navy has 10, and most of them are obsolete.Then there were 950,000 soldiers in reserve, today at most—550,000. We do not compare aviation, artillery, tanks, armored vehicles, and missile forces to avoid erroneous conclusions due to the gigantic technological progress. Something else is known: we are only hastily building up our anti-drone defense with the help of the Ukrainians who are experienced in this.We should not be offended by the words of President Volodymyr Zelenskyy: perhaps not very diplomatic, but everyone—except the minister of defense and the president—feels that they are painfully true. Comparing the air defense systems of Ukraine and Poland on Sky News, Zelenskyy said: "This is not addressed to our Polish friends—they are not in a state of war, so it is understandable that they are not ready for such things. But even if you compare: 810 drones, of which we shot down over 700, and they had, I think, 19 and shot down four. They did not have missile or ballistic strikes then. And, of course, they will not be able to save people if there is a massive attack.""A week later, Zelenskyy reported that over 90 Russian drones were heading towards Poland, of which 70 were shot down by Ukrainians over their own territory."You shouldn't snap back at Zelenskyy, Mr. Minister, Mr. President, because one thing that hasn't changed since the pre-war period is our cocky turning up of our noses. In this, we have no equal. In 1939, we were "strong, united, and ready" and were not going to "give up even a button."And yet, even before the start of hostilities, the commander-in-chief, Marshal Edward Rydz-Śmigły, so confident in the strength of his army, in August 1939 ordered his valuable belongings—furniture, equipment, and paintings—to be transported by a special military convoy to Romania. After the attack by Hitler's Germany, he and his staff, starting from September 10, followed their furniture to Kuty and crossed the border over the bridge on the Cheremosh River. The army had no communication with the commander-in-chief because the staff officers, in their haste and chaos, had lost the ciphers and codes for field communication somewhere.Today, we also trumpet to the whole world that we have the strongest army in NATO, that we are passing the test, that we are spending 5% of GDP on defense—hmm, before the war it was 10%—that a Polish pilot "will fly even on a barn door," that "we will not give up an inch of Polish land"... But what do we know about our army? Only how it has been tested. And our army has not been tested—and may it not have to be.Revindication and Polonization through the burning of churchesLet's look at the pre-war period—the states of mind then—in one particular aspect: the attitude towards Ukrainians. The sources are drawn from the collections of the Archive of New Records in Warsaw, the Central Military Archive in Rembertów, and archives in Lviv.What was the Polish government, its field administration, what were the generals and colonels doing on the eve of the war? In 1939, the "Ukrainian question" did not seem as important for the country's security as it does today. And yet, every attack on the Ukrainian minority was a gift to the Soviets, whose propaganda falsely interpreted the partition of September 17 as having to "protect the persecuted Ukrainians and Belarusians."We have already mentioned the multiple "pacifications" of Ukrainian villages by the Polish army, the arrests of intellectuals and activists.But in 1938, a new dynamic began: from May to July in the Chełm region and Southern Podlachia, the Polish authorities coordinatedly demolished or burned 127 Orthodox churches, chapels, and prayer houses—including many historical monuments. A brigade of workers would arrive in the villages under the protection of the police or the army, and in a few weeks, the "job" was done. Recalcitrant believers were beaten and put on trial. Icons were destroyed, spiritual monuments were looted, and iconostases were desecrated. Some of the churches were converted into Roman Catholic churches. This was part of a "revindication-Polonization" campaign."Revindication"—because they claimed that the majority were "Russified" peasantry and Polish petty gentry who, with a little "help," would return to the embrace of the motherland."Polonization"—no explanation needed. The Polish state was to be ethnically homogeneous—according to the Endek template of "Pole-Catholic." The government promised land to the "Poles" who would "return to the mother," that is, to the bosom of the Catholic Church.After the destruction of the churches, the Ruthenians/Ukrainians were forced to attend mass at the Roman Catholic church. The Church rubbed its hands—the police and the army took on the task of "converting" the infidels for it."Priests, without bothering, conducted mass conversions. The number of "Poles" increased, the number of churches decreased."The Polonization campaign in 1938–39 was in full swing in all eastern voivodeships. The instructions for the Command of the VI Corps District of the Polish Army in Lviv from January 1939 regarding the "strengthening of Polishness" in the Ternopil Voivodeship ordered the campaign to be completed by the end of 1941—to be in time for the new census. They obliged to "break at any cost the Ukrainian terror that will rage against activists and new converts [Poles]." They proposed to increase the number of State Police posts and introduce collective responsibility, etc."To the non-Polish population—only in Polish." Who does Przemysław Czarnek resembleOnly one high-ranking official of the Second Polish Republic—a friend of Józef Piłsudski, the Volhynian voivode Henryk Józewski—pursued a policy of dialogue with local Ukrainians and bet on their state, not national, assimilation. But after the Marshal's death, Józewski's position in Volhynia weakened. Opponents accused him of "favoring the Ukrainians too much." He himself resigned precisely in protest against the destruction of churches. Józewski's "Volhynian experiment"—the complete opposite of the pacification policy of the Sanation colonels—is considered one of the most consistent and comprehensive attempts to solve the Ukrainian question in the Second Polish Republic.After Józewski's departure, a five-year "Polonization campaign of Volhynia and the Chełm region" was established. It was envisaged that by 1944, Poles would become a majority in Volhynia, where in 1939 Ukrainians constituted about 70% of the population, "Polish bastions" were to be created there, and—what is particularly insidious—a regional version of Ukrainian national identity, different from the Galician one.But the effects did not meet expectations. Only 10% of the Orthodox in the Chełm region were persuaded to change their faith. Meanwhile, the military was counting on the conversion of up to 350,000 people in Volhynia, the Chełm region, and Podlachia. New instructions ordered the administration to be cleansed of persons of "non-Polish origin."The head of the revindication campaign in the Lublin region, Colonel Marian Turkowski, on January 24, 1939, stressed that "in Poland, only Poles are the masters, full-fledged citizens, and only they have a say. All others are merely tolerated."In his instructions, he noted: "To cultivate among the Polish masses a superiority complex towards the non-Polish population. The Polish language should be an expression of superiority—both cultural and civic. A Pole should address the non-Polish population only in Polish. And a state or self-government official can by no means use any language other than Polish."On February 23, 1939, at the Lublin Voivodeship Office, representatives of the government, the army, and the local administration discussed how to "solve the Ukrainian problem." The Lublin voivode, Jerzy Albin de Tramecourt, proposed a settlement program for the Polish petty gentry. He said: "We must break up the established historical concentrations of Ukrainians!" The entire Lublin and Chełm regions were to become completely free of Orthodox and Ukrainians.Hitler and Stalin did not allow the matter to be brought to an end. In his Ukrainophobia, voivode de Tramecourt was matched only by a worthy successor—Przemysław Czarnek. It is enough to recall his actions and statements regarding Ukrainians when he was the Lublin voivode. After the war began, he quieted down, but not for long. The question returns like a mantra: Qui bono? Who benefited from this?In March-April 1939, the "massive stage" of the "revindication-Polonization" campaign began. Lieutenant Colonel Stanisław Sosabowski—yes, the famous commander of the 1st Parachute Brigade in World War II—coordinated it in the southeast of the Lublin region until March 1939.In his memorandum to the authorities, he encouraged "going further" after the occupation of Zaolzie. He wrote that "there are conditions for an almost complete revindication of the so-called minorities of this area," what is needed is "strength and consistency."He warned against "indecisiveness, which causes unforeseeable damage to the cause." He reminded of the need for a "mass conversion to Roman Catholicism, which in this area is identified with nationality."In 1939, conversions became massive: Colonel Turkowski reported that from March 24 to April 2, 8,000 Orthodox were "revindicated" to Roman Catholicism.From these events to the German aggression—five months, to the Soviet attack—another 17 days. And the ruling Sanation in Poland could find no better occupation than the "revindication" and Polonization of Ukrainians in Lemkivshchyna, the Chełm region, Eastern Galicia, and Volhynia. To the very last days, they sought at all costs to "solve the Ukrainian problem" and get rid of the "Jewish question"—for in the policy of the Sanation camp, both issues rhymed.It is worth remembering: in the September campaign, 125,000 servicemen of Ukrainian nationality fought in Polish uniforms, of whom 8–9 thousand gave their lives for Poland.Neither Ukrainian nor Jewish. Industry and trade must be PolishThe death of Marshal Józef Piłsudski on May 12, 1935, coincided with the end of the economic recession, the balancing of the budget, and obtaining a loan from France for rearmament (1936). Under the leadership of the new Marshal, Edward Rydz-Śmigły, an ambitious plan for the development of the defense industry and the modernization of the army was developed.At the turn of February and March 1936, Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of the Treasury Eugeniusz Kwiatkowski presented a four-year plan for economic development. It involved, among other things, the concentration of arms production in the Vistula and San interfluve, with a reliance on the Bug. The Central Industrial District (COP) included 35 counties of the Lviv and Lublin voivodeships, along with the Chełm region."The ambitious military plans were accompanied by the intention of profound social changes within the framework of the "totalization" of public life. The government's "Gazeta Polska" wrote that totalization is: the concentration of state power; a planned economy; a single organization of the nation [exclusively ethnic Poles]. Sounds familiar."The Sanation wanted to displace not only Ukrainians. The instructions of the command headquarters of the district in Lublin honestly stated: "It should be remembered that anti-Semitism, which manifests itself in an economic boycott and the displacement of Jews from trade and industrial establishments, will yield positive results for the state only when the places vacated by them are taken by Poles capable of running them. The occupation of Jewish places by other minorities should be considered harmful." This is how the Piłsudskiites ended up as executors of the program of the far right.In the "Tygodnik Społeczno-Gospodarczy" of January 29, 1936, a programmatic article "COP must be Polish" was published. It stated: "On the territory of the Central Industrial District, a NEW, SPECIAL TYPE OF MAN is emerging—the implementer of the COP. Deputy Prime Minister Eugeniusz Kwiatkowski drew attention to this phenomenon in his Sejm speech."Hence the conclusion: "Only a Pole can work in the COP, and a Pole not in the formal sense, but one who belongs to the Polish Nation—the only one who guarantees proper care for its development."Two solutions were envisaged: "a legislative ban on the settlement of the non-Polish element on the territory of the COP" and "a legislative obligation to resettle the non-Polish element from the territory of the COP [Ukrainians and Jews] to other parts of Poland, if their complete emigration from Poland cannot yet be carried out."The authorities were thinking primarily of the Jews—after all, they predominated in crafts, trade, and urban property and did not fit the image of the "new type of man—the Polish pioneer." But despite the efforts of Foreign Minister Józef Beck, Poland did not acquire overseas colonies to massively resettle the Jewish population there, so it latched onto the idea of "internal deportations."The bravura attack of the "petty gentry" with the nationalist Bolesław PiaseckiThe aforementioned petty gentry was to become an outpost of Polishness in Galicia and Volhynia, so in February 1938, at a congress under the auspices of the army and the Catholic clergy in Przemyśl, the Union of Petty Gentry was created. The chairman was the priest-dean Antoni Miodziński, and the patronage was taken by Marshal Rydz-Śmigły. The work of the union was managed by General Janusz Głuchowski, deputy minister of military affairs. At the beginning of 1939, structures were created in Volhynia and Polissia.In the "power-colonial" blindness, the idea of Polonizing the Ruthenian lands by demonstrating "superiority" to the Ruthenian "rabble" was born. We, the Lyakhs, are the gentry; we are the masters; we are Latin Catholics; we bring you the civilization of the West.Who was supposed to implement this?With unconcealed shame, one recalls the cooperation of the Sanation's Camp of National Unity with the chauvinistic and totalitarian National Radical Movement "Falanga."Supposedly, it was only an "episode," and the cooperation ended in January 1938, when Colonel Adam Koc was removed from the leadership of the organization.Meanwhile, as Professor Szymon Rudnicki writes in his monograph "Falanga. The National Radical Movement," at the end of 1938, the authorities approached the leader of "Falanga," Bolesław Piasecki, with a request to send his people to the leadership of the Union of Petty Gentry.The proposal was accepted. The Falangists joined the governing bodies of the Union and edited "Pobudka." Piasecki proclaimed: "Great Poland in our vision is a Nation and a State with such a powerfully organized will that it will not only be able to free the Republic from over four million Jews, not only stop the Ukrainization of four and a half million of the Kresy population, but also—enable Poland to fulfill its historical mission."Olgierd Szpakowski wrote on the pages of the weekly "Falanga" that in Little Poland "a war is going on," and "Polishness had to move from defense to offense." To date, about 200,000 souls have been "revindicated," the goal is another 700,000. He saw the solution in "revolutionary Polish nationalism," whose task is to replace the slogan "Lyakhs beyond the San" with the policy "Ukrainians beyond the Bug, beyond the Sluch, to the Dnieper."Szpakowski was right: the Second Polish Republic, on the eve of the war with Germany and Soviet Russia, was at war with its own citizens—the Ukrainians.The state of mind of the military of that time is conveyed by the words of General Gustaw Paszkiewicz, a Polonizer, commander of the 12th Infantry Division stationed in Ternopil. "The territory, natural resources, and the border with friendly Romania," he reported, "cause Eastern Little Poland to be one of the key components of Poland's power. Today, the value of these lands as a forefield of the Central Industrial District is growing many times over. If we also take into account that these are the territories that lead us by the shortest route to the Black Sea and the Balkans, then they cannot be denied one of the primary roles in the entire problematics of the State's strength."Andrzej Duda—a worthy successor to General Paszkiewicz—also dreamed of an "Intermarium" under the Polish banner, spear, and hussar wing. One can accuse us of anachronism, but one still wants to shout: "A doctor! A doctor!"Carpathian Ruthenia. "These Sich riflemen must be shot"A little-known episode in Poland is the emergence in 1938 of Carpathian Ruthenia, an ephemeral autonomous state. It existed briefly—between the Munich Agreement (September 30, 1938, as a result of which Germany occupied the Sudetenland, the Hungarians—southern Slovakia, the Poles—Zaolzie) and the full annexation of Czechoslovakia by Hitler on March 15, 1939. Then Hungary seized all of Transcarpathian Ukraine.The Sanation panicked. They realized that Hitler's next target could be Poland. The fear subsided after the signing of a military alliance with Great Britain on March 31 and its guarantees of the independence of the Second Polish Republic. Kwiatkowski's planners returned to work. This time, a 15-year plan envisaged large investments that were to lead to the "Polonization of cities," that is, in the language of anti-Semites: to "de-Jewification." The "Ukrainian problem" was planned to be solved much earlier.And an urgent current matter appeared. From Hungarian-occupied Carpathian Ruthenia, Ukrainians—Polish citizens—were returning to Poland. These were mostly members of the paramilitary formations of the so-called Sich, who had previously voluntarily gone to the Carpathians to support the new state. Now they had to flee. They wanted to make their way home—to the territory of the Second Polish Republic."The Chief of the General Staff of the Polish Army, General Wacław Stachiewicz, informed the commanders of Marshal Rydz-Śmigły's order—to shoot at members of the Carpathian Sich who would try to cross into Poland.""These Sich riflemen," he reported, "should be shot, and if they surrender—immediately disarmed and interned. Another thing is that the Marshal would not want them to get to our territory at all, even if they were interned. But the Marshal's main desire is that we do not burden ourselves with all sorts of scum who will want to sneak over to us from there."The latest historical research has confirmed: the Polish Army carried out the Marshal's order with "a surplus." At three Carpathian passes, executions of citizens of the Second Polish Republic from the defeated units of the Carpathian Ukrainian Army, who sought to return home, took place. The Ukrainian historian Oleksandr Pahiria established: during one execution at the Veretsky (Tukhla) Pass, over 40 Sich riflemen died. In total, at the three passes—over 120 people.This was a crime—regardless of the fact that later a part of the Sich riflemen who remained in Hungary created the Ukrainian Legion, which operated under the wing of the Abwehr, took part in the September campaign on the side of the Germans, and in 1941, the infamous battalions "Nachtigall" and "Roland" were formed on its basis.They also set about "liquidating the OUN" and Ukrainian nationalism: by mid-September, 4–5 thousand people ended up in prisons and in the camp in Bereza Kartuska."One of the biggest mysteries of the Second Polish Republic was the complete disregard for the threat from the USSR and the possibility of its alliance with the Third Reich—even after August 23, when Moscow and Berlin signed an agreement on the partition of Poland."In the calculations after the September defeat, military intelligence blamed the MFA, led by Beck, and the diplomats—the employees of the II Department of the General Staff (intelligence and counterintelligence).Undoubtedly, the capabilities of Polish intelligence were seriously limited due to the destruction of spy networks at the turn of the 1920s-30s and the extermination of the Polish population during the so-called "Polish operation" of the NKVD in 1937–38. What's worse—a painful analogy—the Soviets had agents in the highest echelons of the Second Polish Republic: Tadeusz Kobylański, Beck's closest associate and head of the eastern and political department of the MFA, served them. In such a situation, the Soviets' possibilities for disinformation and influence on Polish policy were enormous.And finally: in August 1938, Stalin dissolves the Communist Party of Poland. Also the CP of Western Ukraine and the CP of Western Belarus.The decision is unprecedented—Stalin never dissolved any other communist party. In the Second Polish Republic, this was assessed as another manifestation of the Soviets' weakness. Władysław Gomułka, his biographer Andrzej Werblan, and the then member of the CP of Western Ukraine, Ozjasz Szechter, were of a different opinion: they believed that this was preparation for a Soviet-German alliance. By dissolving the KPP, Stalin was signaling the possibility of a return to the "Rapallo line," that is, an alliance between Moscow and Berlin with désintéressement regarding the fate of Poland and the Poles. Polish intelligence and analytical centers did not grasp this.From the point of view of Stalin's interests, the anti-Ukrainian and anti-Jewish actions of Rydz-Śmigły's team were an ideal scenario: the Soviets could present their participation in the partition of the Second Polish Republic on the international stage as "assistance to the brotherly Ukrainians and Belarusians, oppressed by the Polish gentry." This was precisely the main line of Soviet propaganda after September 17.President Nawrocki's dangerous gameUkraine is waging a difficult, full-scale war with Russia. Russia has long been waging a hybrid war against us: sabotage, arson, cyberattacks, GPS signal jamming, mass disinformation, black propaganda, migration pressure on the eastern border, provocations, fanning fears, violation of airspace, traditional espionage, and finally—recently—drone attacks.The conclusions are self-evident.Every time Poland cooperated with Ukraine, we always benefited from it, and Russia lost. Every time the "gene of superiority," the "gene of domination" won in us—Ukraine lost, Poland lost, and Russia won. It couldn't be simpler—and it's impossible not to understand this.Karol Nawrocki has just submitted a draft law to the Sejm that prohibits the promotion of "Banderism." There are so many necessary laws, but, in Nawrocki's opinion, without this one, Poles "cannot do without." As if pulling out the most painful and conflict-ridden cards of history now is the highest national priority. Of course—for Moscow."Nawrocki announced a "diplomatic offensive," but he did not go to Kyiv. And he won't be going anytime soon, judging by his consistently hostile policy towards Ukraine."Let us recall: back in July, Ukrainians signaled that Polish and Lithuanian SIM cards were installed in Russian drones shot down over Ukraine. And this indicated that they were supposed to fly to Poland and Lithuania.At the same time, experts from the European analytical collective Res Futura warned: in September, the Russians will launch a powerful disinformation strike against Poland. And so it happened—the raid of Russian drones on September 9 and 10 was accompanied by an extremely strong offensive on the network. Deputy Prime Minister Krzysztof Gawkowski spoke about this.The goal is to hammer into Poles' heads that the drones were "Ukrainian," that "Ukraine is dragging us into a war," that "NATO can do nothing," and that Belarus and Russia are "generally friendly states."The replacement of Donald Tusk with Karol Nawrocki during the online conversation of European leaders with Donald Trump after his meeting with Putin in Alaska was an act detrimental to the state—because on August 18–20 in Washington, where key issues for Ukraine, Europe, and NATO were being decided, Poland was not represented.If Poland's absence in Washington could have been an "accident at work" for Nawrocki, then there is no accident in his openly anti-Ukrainian, and thus pro-Russian, actions. The veto on the law on aid to Ukraine fueled anti-Ukrainian sentiments, creating an ideal background for Putin's action against Poland. The Presidential Palace has drawn no conclusions and intends to continue down this fatal path.There was already one "uncompromising" presidentProfessor Stanisław Pigoń from the Jagiellonian University, associated with the peasant movement, was part of a group of professors who went to President Ignacy Mościcki in 1939. They explained: the situation is extraordinary, war is almost inevitable. A government of national unity is needed, an understanding with the opposition, gestures towards the émigrés—Witos and Korfanty.Mościcki rejected any compromise. Then, in the face of war with Hitler, he said: "Józef Piłsudski's camp will not renounce responsibility for Poland."How prescient and far-sighted was Ignacy Mościcki, who did not renounce his Swiss citizenship. A few months later, he left the country and settled in neutral Switzerland.Today in Poland, it is 1938. But September 1939 is not inevitable. There is no fate of history—there is only the history of foolishness in Poland. Let's not add another chapter to it.Article published in the newspaper Wyborcza on October 8, 2025authors Myrosław Czech, Jarosław Kurski
