“The White Eagle” Effect: How President Nawrocki United Ukraine Overnight

Our gratitude to the Polish people remains unwavering. The key question, however, is how to overcome a situation that is damaging both Kyiv and Warsaw.

On June 19, 2026, Polish President Karol Nawrocki announced the revocation of the Order of the White Eagle previously awarded to Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky. He justified the decision by citing Ukraine’s move to grant one of its Special Operations Forces units the honorary title “Heroes of the UPA.” Nawrocki argued that Kyiv had “crossed the pain threshold for Poles” and reiterated that Poland could not accept the honoring of individuals and organizations that many Poles regard as responsible for crimes against the Polish nation.

The move, clearly directed at a domestic right-wing audience ahead of future electoral contests, was intended to signal Warsaw’s uncompromising position on historical memory and national identity.

Yet the outcome proved to be the exact opposite of what appears to have been intended at the Belweder Palace. Rather than pressuring Ukraine’s leadership into defensive explanations or prompting concessions, Nawrocki’s démarche triggered an unprecedented wave of unity within Ukraine. At the same time, it sparked a serious political and intellectual debate in Poland itself, where many voices openly challenged the president’s approach and questioned the wisdom of turning historical disputes into a source of contemporary political confrontation.

UNPRECEDENTED UNITY: HOW THE “WHITE EAGLE” UNITED UKRAINE

Volodymyr Zelensky’s response was swift. The Ukrainian president posted a photograph from a Nova Poshta branch showing the Order of the White Eagle on its way back to Warsaw, addressed to Karol Nawrocki. Zelensky underscored what he saw as the absurdity of the situation, noting that Poland had never revoked similar honors from Benito Mussolini, often described as the father of fascism, or from former German Chancellor Gerhard Schröder, widely criticized for his close ties to Russian interests.

Presidential Unity

What followed over the next twenty-four hours was truly unprecedented. Leonid Kuchma, Viktor Yushchenko, and Petro Poroshenko all announced that they were returning their Polish state decorations. Three Ukrainian presidents representing different eras, political traditions, and constituencies suddenly found themselves speaking with one voice.

Leonid Kuchma, who has long regarded close ties with Poland as a cornerstone of Ukrainian foreign policy, returned his award with a simple message: “No foreign country can dictate to us whom we should honor.”

Viktor Yushchenko warned that any weakening of Ukrainian-Polish unity would benefit only one actor—the Kremlin.

Petro Poroshenko was even more blunt: “If we allow the Poles to edit our history textbooks today, tomorrow Moscow will send us a joint textbook of its own.”

A Diplomatic Cascade of Returned Decorations

The former presidents were soon joined by senior officials, diplomats, and public figures. Among those who returned their Polish honors were Kyrylo Budanov, head of Ukraine’s military intelligence service; Foreign Minister Andrii Sybiha; ambassadors Vasyl Bodnar and Vasyl Zvarych; former Prime Minister Volodymyr Groysman; and a number of other prominent Ukrainian officials.

Their message was unequivocal: Nawrocki’s decision represented a strategic miscalculation—one that risked undermining decades of painstaking Ukrainian-Polish reconciliation while handing Moscow an unnecessary political victory. As Budanov aptly observed, a shared history should serve as a basis for reflection and dialogue, not as a tool for crude political manipulation.

Memes Instead of Mourning

Rather than responding with anger or resentment, Ukrainian society met the controversy with a wave of irony. Social media quickly filled with jokes and memes, many of them poking fun at the unexpected unity the dispute had produced.

One post captured the public mood particularly well:

“This is the one day in Ukrainian history when we’re not mocking our presidents.”

Some imagined a sorting-center employee who, overnight, had become a four-time recipient of the Order of the White Eagle after processing the stream of returned decorations.

Others suggested awarding Karol Nawrocki the Order of Bohdan Khmelnytsky, arguing that he had accomplished what no Ukrainian politician had ever managed to do—unite all of Ukraine’s presidents.

Even Nova Poshta’s social media team joined the trend, quipping:

“An eagle can fly at 50–80 km/h, but we delivered it even faster.”

What was particularly striking was the tone of the reaction. The humor was sharp, but it was also dignified. Ukrainians responded with irony rather than hostility, carefully distinguishing between criticism of a political decision and respect for the Polish people. The jokes reflected confidence rather than resentment.

The final word in the viral exchange came, fittingly, from Ukraine’s Special Operations Forces:

“We’re just stopping by for a second: the Tyumen oil refinery is still burning after our visit. Have a peaceful night, everyone.”

That, too, was a form of unity—albeit of a different kind.

The Boomerang Effect in Poland

As philosopher Oleksiy Panych has observed, Nawrocki’s radical move appears to have produced the opposite of its intended effect. Rather than isolating Ukraine, it consolidated Ukrainians while exposing divisions within Polish society itself, prompting many Poles to draw their own “red lines” for the president.

Indeed, a counter-reaction quickly emerged in Poland.

Former MP Piotr Vogler returned his Gold Cross of Merit in protest, describing Nawrocki’s actions as senseless and counterproductive. Liberal activists, meanwhile, proposed creating an alternative “Order of the Future” for Volodymyr Zelensky as a symbolic expression of solidarity and a reminder that the views of the Polish president do not necessarily reflect those of Polish society as a whole.

Polish politicians, meanwhile, were far from unanimous in their support for the move. Prominent figures from the political mainstream, including MEP Robert Biedroń, Prime Minister Donald Tusk, and Foreign Minister Radosław Sikorski, called for de-escalation and urged both sides to avoid further confrontation. Sikorski perhaps captured the essence of the situation most succinctly:

“The only winner in a war over history and decorations can be Moscow.”

A DEBT OF GRATITUDE: WHAT WE UKRAINIANS OWE POLAND

Speaking about gratitude in the midst of a diplomatic dispute may seem unusual. Yet moments of tension are often the best time for a sober assessment of reality. What, in concrete terms, has Poland done for Ukraine since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion?

The answer is substantial.

They Opened Their Borders on the Very First Night

Russia’s full-scale invasion triggered the largest refugee movement in Europe since the Second World War, and the overwhelming majority of those fleeing Ukraine passed through Poland.

Warsaw did not wait for instructions from Brussels or for international coordination mechanisms to be put in place. It simply opened its borders.

According to Poland’s Border Guard Service, Ukrainian citizens crossed the Polish-Ukrainian border into Poland 3.05 million times between January 1 and March 31, 2022, alone. By the end of that year, the number of crossings had risen to 9.09 million.

Warsaw alone received approximately 300,000 Ukrainian refugees during the first month of the invasion, increasing the city’s population by roughly 15 percent almost overnight. Schools, hospitals, public services, and local communities adapted with remarkable speed to accommodate the influx, providing assistance on a scale unprecedented in modern Polish history.

In 2022, approximately 1.5 million Ukrainian citizens obtained a PESEL identification number and UKR protection status in Poland. Altogether, around 1.73 million Ukrainians benefited from temporary protection there during 2022–2023, gaining access to employment, healthcare, education for their children, and social assistance on terms broadly comparable to those available to Polish citizens.

Poland’s overall support for Ukraine in 2022, including assistance provided to Ukrainian refugees, exceeded 2 percent of its GDP and amounted to 56.6 billion zlotys.

Yet these efforts were not financed by the state alone. Polish civil society played an indispensable role. Hundreds of thousands of Polish families opened their homes to Ukrainians fleeing the war. Volunteers drove refugees from border crossings to cities across the country, while churches, charities, and local communities organized food distribution, temporary accommodation, and humanitarian aid. In many instances, this wave of solidarity emerged spontaneously, long before formal support mechanisms were put in place.

The Rzeszów Hub: The Heart of International Assistance

Perhaps Poland’s most important—yet least visible—contribution to Ukraine’s war effort has been logistical.

From the second day of Russia’s full-scale invasion, the logistics hub in the Polish city of Rzeszów became the principal gateway for international assistance to Ukraine, facilitating more than 95 percent of all supplies entering the country. Over time, it became the critical artery through which military and humanitarian aid flowed from Ukraine’s partners.

Billions of dollars’ worth of weapons, ammunition, military equipment, and humanitarian supplies from dozens of countries have passed through this corridor. Without the Rzeszów hub, the entire architecture of international support for Ukraine would have looked dramatically different.

Its importance became particularly evident in early 2025, when the temporary suspension of U.S. military assistance was publicly reflected in activity at the logistics center in Jasionka, near Rzeszów. It was also from there that confirmation came that deliveries had resumed following negotiations in Jeddah.

More Tanks Than Any Other Ally

According to Poland’s Ministry of National Defense, between 2022 and 2024 Poland transferred 318 tanks to the Armed Forces of Ukraine free of charge. These included T-72M and T-72M1 tanks, upgraded T-72M1R variants, PT-91 Twardy tanks, and Leopard 2 main battle tanks.

These deliveries made Poland the largest supplier of tanks to Ukraine among all partner countries. At a critical moment in the war, when Ukraine urgently needed armored vehicles to replenish losses and equip newly formed units, Polish deliveries helped fill a capability gap that few other allies were prepared to address so quickly.

Poland’s total military assistance to Ukraine has exceeded €4.5 billion, more than €3.3 billion of which consists of military equipment transferred free of charge. Altogether, Warsaw has supplied more than 1,300 pieces of military hardware, including tanks, infantry fighting vehicles, artillery systems, aircraft, and helicopters. No other country has provided Ukraine with more tanks, infantry fighting vehicles, or MiG-29 fighter jets.

Poland was also among the first European countries—and often the very first—to break political taboos surrounding the transfer of new categories of military equipment to Ukraine. In doing so, it helped dispel the hesitation and fears that initially constrained many Western governments. The significance of this leadership is difficult to overstate. In 2022, when much of the West remained cautious and deeply concerned about escalation, Poland’s decisions helped establish precedents that opened the door for broader international military assistance.

Warsaw has also played a crucial role in training Ukrainian service members. Thousands of Ukrainian soldiers have received instruction at military facilities across Poland, strengthening Ukraine’s ability to absorb and effectively employ Western equipment.

A particularly important milestone was the establishment in Bydgoszcz of the NATO–Ukraine Joint Analysis, Training and Education Centre (JATEC), the first institution of its kind and one of the most significant practical cooperation projects ever created between Ukraine and the Alliance.

The Door to the European Union Opened with a Polish Hand

Poland’s support for Ukraine has extended far beyond military and humanitarian assistance.

On the international stage, Warsaw has consistently advocated stronger pressure on Russia and has been among the most vocal proponents of sanctions, military support, financial aid, and humanitarian assistance for Ukraine. Successive Polish governments have actively used both bilateral and multilateral diplomatic channels to keep Ukraine high on the international agenda and to sustain support among Western partners.

In the debate over Ukraine’s European future, Poland’s voice carries particular authority, rooted in its own successful journey into the European Union. Having successfully navigated that process itself, Poland has become one of Ukraine’s most important advocates within the European Union.

This commitment was reaffirmed in December 2025 during the Informal Meeting of EU Ministers for European Affairs in Lviv, when Poland announced its participation in the Ukraine2EU Program, an initiative designed to support Ukraine’s accession process.

In addition to contributing €1 million to the program, Poland pledged to share its experience with Ukrainian state institutions in implementing European integration reforms and aligning national legislation with the EU acquis. Such practical expertise may ultimately prove as valuable as financial assistance, helping Ukraine navigate the complex legal, administrative, and political requirements of future EU membership.

The 2024 Security Cooperation Agreement between Ukraine and Poland further underscored this commitment by affirming that Ukraine’s future membership in both the European Union and NATO is a strategic interest shared by the two countries. More than a statement of intent, it reflected a long-term commitment to supporting Ukraine’s Euro-Atlantic integration and advocating for its place within Europe’s political and security architecture.

Polish Society Deserves Its Own Debt of Gratitude

It is important to distinguish President Nawrocki’s decision from the attitudes of Polish society as a whole.

Many Polish civic activists have said so explicitly:

“Ukrainians are sacrificing their lives for security—their own, Poland’s, and Europe’s. The current decision by the Polish head of state demonstrates how the Russian trap works. Poland’s right-wing political forces have already begun campaigning for the 2027 parliamentary elections and are ruthlessly exploiting the Volhynia tragedy for political purposes. Politicians are arguing about 1943 while people continue to die every day in Ukraine in 2026.”

Their statement reflects a reality often lost amid political controversy: the debate surrounding historical memory is far from settled within Poland itself. Many Poles continue to view support for Ukraine not only as a moral obligation but also as a matter of Poland’s own security and strategic interest.

It is also worth remembering that the relationship between the two countries has been genuinely reciprocal. During 2022–2023, Ukrainian entrepreneurs operating in Poland contributed approximately €2.3 billion to the Polish state budget through taxes and economic activity. The partnership has therefore been built not only on solidarity and assistance but also on mutual economic benefit.

This, too, is an important part of the Ukrainian-Polish story—one that should not be forgotten in moments of political tension.

Perhaps the most fitting summary of the current situation comes from Ukraine’s third president, Viktor Yushchenko:

“It was the Polish people who were among the first to extend a helping hand to Ukraine during the darkest days of 2022.”

Those words capture an essential distinction. Governments change. Political moods fluctuate. Election campaigns come and go. Yet the actions of millions of ordinary people often leave a more enduring legacy.

We remember that helping hand.

Despite everything.

HOW TO PREVENT FURTHER ESCALATION

The diplomatic scandal will eventually subside. The more important question is whether this crisis can be prevented from becoming the starting point of a deeper and more enduring deterioration in Ukrainian-Polish relations.

The timing could hardly be worse. Ukraine remains engaged in a war for its survival. Poland is already entering the political cycle that will culminate in the 2027 parliamentary elections. And Moscow will undoubtedly seek to exploit any division between two nations whose partnership has become one of the cornerstones of security in Central and Eastern Europe.

One of the most thoughtful voices in this debate has been that of Vasyl Zvarych, who served for two years as Ukraine’s ambassador to Poland and understands the dynamics of Polish politics and society better than most. After returning his Polish decoration, he accompanied the gesture with a message that sought not to deepen the conflict but to place it in historical perspective:

“If veterans of the UPA and the Home Army found the courage, after everything they had endured, to extend a hand to one another, then today’s politicians should find the wisdom not to destroy what was built with such difficulty.”

This is more than an appealing phrase. It points to a practical roadmap for preserving reconciliation: joint commemorative events, direct dialogue between Ukrainians and Poles, continued efforts to locate and identify victims of past tragedies, and the dignified exhumation and reburial of the dead.

Zvarych has also been explicit about what is at stake:

“Karol Nawrocki has effectively called into question decades of painstaking work aimed at Ukrainian-Polish reconciliation and understanding. This is particularly regrettable because the process of reconciliation was initiated not by politicians, but by the people who personally lived through the most tragic chapters of our shared history.”

In Zvarych’s view, the solution is to return to the logic of the veterans rather than the logic of election campaigns. In practical terms, that means continuing exhumation efforts, reviving the bilateral congress of historians, and drawing a clear distinction between official political disputes and the broader civic dialogue that has long underpinned Ukrainian-Polish reconciliation.

The lesson is a simple but important one: while politicians may shape the tone of public debate, durable reconciliation is ultimately sustained by institutions, historians, civic organizations, and ordinary people who remain committed to dialogue even when political relations become strained.

The director of the Institute of World Policy, Yevhen Mahda, has consistently returned to one point—and repetition has not made it any less relevant:

“We must understand that the formula ‘We forgive and ask for forgiveness,’ proclaimed by Pope John Paul II and later reaffirmed by Presidents Kuchma and Kwaśniewski, has no viable alternative.”

Mahda also draws attention to another important reality. The decision by three former Ukrainian presidents, along with a number of prominent Ukrainian politicians and officials, to return their Polish decorations demonstrates that Nawrocki’s move has, at the very least, consolidated Ukraine’s political class.

Yet internal unity is only the first step. The second is to demonstrate—to Poland’s partners and to Polish society itself—that Nawrocki’s position does not necessarily represent all of Poland. The vigorous debate that followed his decision, including criticism from politicians, civic activists, and public intellectuals, suggests that Polish society is far more diverse and nuanced than any single political gesture might imply.

Mahda’s key caveat is equally important. In his view, Poland is unlikely to curtail military support for Ukraine because Ukraine’s resistance to Russian aggression remains deeply intertwined with Poland’s own strategic interests. However, preserving mutual understanding will become increasingly difficult. The practical conclusion is straightforward: strategic partnership must be protected even when the symbolic and historical dimensions of the relationship are under strain.

Political analyst Volodymyr Fesenko offers a similar assessment, arguing that the current turbulence is driven not only by Nawrocki himself but also by broader shifts within Polish society. For that reason, he believes Kyiv should avoid further escalating the public dispute.

As Fesenko explains:

“This crisis will be with us for a long time. It is connected not only to Nawrocki, but also to the current mood of a significant part of Polish society. Ukraine and Ukrainian officials have responded to President Nawrocki’s provocative démarche with dignity. The next task is to move beyond the highly emotional phase of this crisis.

To do that, public discussions about mutual grievances should be suspended at the official level. At present, Nawrocki and his circle are not ready for dialogue or constructive steps. It is similar to interpersonal relationships: when your counterpart is acting aggressively, the best approach is sometimes to pause the discussion for a while.

We need to wait until these negative emotions subside and then gradually begin rebuilding relations.”

Fesenko’s argument is not that disagreements should be ignored, but that they should be managed strategically rather than emotionally. In his view, the current moment calls for patience, restraint, and a focus on long-term interests rather than short-term political reactions.

The analyst emphasizes that there is no quick fix and no miracle formula for overcoming the current impasse. What is required instead is patient, systematic, and long-term engagement with public opinion in Poland, dialogue with political forces across the Polish political spectrum, and a sustained focus on the interests and challenges that continue to unite Ukrainians and Poles.

As he puts it:

“The Office of the President and Ukraine’s Foreign Ministry should develop a common strategy for gradually overcoming the current crisis. For now, Ukrainian authorities and everyone involved in Ukrainian-Polish relations need to demonstrate restraint, patience, and composure, halt the chain reaction of mutual accusations, and seek ways to lower the emotional temperature of the debate.”

Put simply, Fesenko’s recommendation is to step away from an emotionally charged public confrontation with Nawrocki and his political circle. If accusations are made, they should be answered calmly, factually, and without reciprocal gestures designed to escalate the dispute.

“It seems to me that this is precisely how Ukraine’s official representatives are trying to act now,” he added.

A somewhat different emphasis comes from civic activist Taras Shamaida, co-coordinator of the Freedom Space movement. While agreeing on the need for dialogue, he argues that any reconciliation effort must be grounded in the principle of sovereign equality and mutual respect.

In Shamaida’s view:

“Without question, we need to seek understanding both with the Polish authorities and with all constructive forces within Polish society. But such understanding can be built only on the foundations of equality and mutual respect.

That includes respect for the right of each nation to decide for itself which historical figures it chooses to honor. Ukraine has always recognized this right for Poland, whereas Poland is increasingly reluctant to recognize it for Ukraine.

Yes, Poland is critically important to us—for our security, for logistics, and for our path toward the European Union. But accepting unequal interstate relations and allowing our neighbors to dictate terms on questions of historical memory will not solve our problems. On the contrary, it will only deepen them.

This is a lesson we must finally learn.”

Taken together, the views of Fesenko and Shamaida point toward a delicate but necessary balance. Ukraine has a strong interest in preserving one of its most important strategic partnerships, particularly at a time of war. Yet preserving that partnership cannot come at the expense of sovereign equality or the right to maintain an independent historical narrative.

The challenge, therefore, is not to choose between partnership and dignity, but to ensure that both remain possible. Sustainable Ukrainian-Polish reconciliation will require patience, mutual respect, and a willingness to separate immediate political passions from the long-term interests that continue to bind the two countries together.

Philosopher Myroslav Marynovych cautions against impulsive reactions, arguing that simply mirroring an opponent’s political gestures risks reproducing the very behavior one seeks to criticize.

In his words:

“To mirror the populist actions of your opponent is to fall into the same populism yourself. What we need today is measured firmness—not capitulation to ultimatums and not loud rhetoric, but the calm confidence of a nation that has finally come to recognize its own agency.

Ukrainians and Poles spent a significant part of the twentieth century trapped in a cycle of ‘reciprocal responses,’ and it benefited no one. Neither ‘just retribution’ nor akcje odwetowe convinced the other side of its righteousness. Both sides lost because a third party won.

I understand that the method of ‘mirroring’ may appeal to many emotional Ukrainians. History has shown this repeatedly, and we have not changed that much. Yet we must finally become a mature political nation—a nation capable of restraining its emotions when necessary and setting the right priorities.”

Marynovych’s argument is, at its core, a warning against allowing short-term emotions to dictate long-term strategy. The challenge, he suggests, is to respond with confidence rather than resentment, and with patience rather than reflexive retaliation.

Journalist Oleh Bazar offers a different but complementary perspective. In his view, the deeper roots of the dispute lie in the discomfort felt by parts of the Polish political establishment as Ukraine grows stronger and more self-assured on the international stage.

As Bazar argues:

“Nawrocki himself previously acknowledged that neither side has the right to dictate to the other whom and how it should commemorate. What has changed now?

It would be easy to attribute everything to Russian influence operations—which certainly exist—or to election-driven hysteria in Poland—which certainly exists as well. But the deeper reason, in my view, is that some Polish elites are uneasy with the fact that Ukraine is becoming stronger.

We are comfortable in the role of the victim, the weaker neighbor in need of assistance. We are less comfortable as a force whose interests and views must be taken into account.”

Bazar’s observation points to a broader dynamic that extends beyond the current controversy. As Ukraine gains military experience, political confidence, and growing influence within Europe, relations with its neighbors inevitably evolve as well. Partnerships forged in a context of asymmetry must adapt to a reality in which Ukraine is increasingly acting as an independent regional actor rather than merely a recipient of support.

“This is especially true at a time when Poland itself is gradually losing some of its standing as the leading power on Europe’s eastern flank.

What should be done in such circumstances? Remain calm. Stand firmly by the principle that neither side has the right to dictate terms to the other. Continue to insist that the only viable formula for addressing difficult historical questions is the canonical one: ‘We forgive and ask for forgiveness.’

And we should never tire of reminding our Polish friends of the classic formula advanced by Jerzy Giedroyc and Juliusz Mieroszewski: without a strong Ukraine, there can be no strong Poland.”

End notes

Taken together, the perspectives of Marynovych, Fesenko, Mahda, Shamaida, Zvarych, and Bazar point to a broadly similar conclusion. The current dispute is serious, but it does not alter the strategic reality that has shaped Ukrainian-Polish relations for decades. Historical disagreements remain difficult and emotionally charged, yet both countries face a common geopolitical challenge that is far more immediate than disputes over memory.

Russia's war against Ukraine has fundamentally transformed the security landscape of Europe. In that new reality, cooperation between Kyiv and Warsaw is not simply desirable—it is strategically necessary. Neither side can afford to allow disagreements over the past to undermine cooperation in the present.

Ukraine’s gratitude to the Polish people remains unchanged. At the same time, gratitude cannot require the abandonment of national dignity, historical agency, or the right to an independent interpretation of the past. A healthy partnership can only exist when both sides recognize each other as equals.

The challenge, therefore, is not to choose between partnership and self-respect, but to preserve both.

That will require patience, political maturity, and a willingness to separate electoral rhetoric from long-term national interests. It will also require remembering a lesson that generations of Ukrainian and Polish intellectuals, dissidents, church leaders, and statesmen sought to impart: reconciliation is not built on unanimity of historical interpretation. It is built on mutual respect, dialogue, and a shared commitment to the future.

The diplomatic storm will pass. What matters is what remains after it.

And what should remain is a simple understanding: a strong Ukraine and a strong Poland are not competing projects. They are complementary ones. The security of one reinforces the security of the other. In the end, that reality is far more important than any order, decoration, or political gesture.

Myroslav Liskovych, Kyiv

Lead photo via t.me/V_Zelenskiy_official