In the spiral of misperceptions. Polish-Ukrainian relations with the backdrop of Russian invasion

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy receiving the Polish Prime Minister Donald Tusk in Kyiv on January 22, 2024. Photo: Shutterstock

The joint declaration of the Polish and Ukrainian foreign ministers signed on 26 November is a good step towards resolving the dispute over exhumations. If words are followed by actions, it will allow for the purification of bilateral relations by rebuilding mutual trust and focusing on the challenges of the present, not the baggage of the past.

Positive emotions between Poland and Ukraine are unlikely to reach the same level as in the first months after Russia’s full-scale invasion. They may even never reach that point again, as the moment and Poland’s assistance to the attacked country were unprecedented. The Polish government sent the first shipments of arms to Ukraine while Russian forces were still advancing on Kyiv, and in subsequent months, provided tanks, armoured vehicles, fighter jets, and other weaponry. This support helped Ukraine endure and signalled to sceptical western countries that the Ukrainians could effectively defend themselves and were worth supporting. Meanwhile, ordinary Poles opened their homes to millions of Ukrainian refugees, with tens, if not hundreds, of thousands involved in some form of assistance. People went to the border to receive refugees, to train stations to guide them across the country, or fundraised in their homes and workplaces for money, clothing or medicine.

Such extensive social and emotional mobilization cannot last indefinitely. Just as Ukrainians defended their state, Poles and two successive Polish governments – from rival political circles – have ceased to view Ukraine solely through the lens of aid and ongoing Russian aggression. Polish-Ukrainian relations have returned to a state of relative normality. Thirty-three months of war have not erased 33 years of history after communism. Aside from inspiring surges in 2004, 2014 and 2022, the relationship has been marked by various conflicts over history, memory, trade and politics, as is typical between neighbours – especially two ambitious, increasingly self-reliant nations.

Commemorations: the mother of all disputes

This autumn, yet again a dispute has ignited tensions among leaders in Poland and Ukraine, drawing the West’s attention. The issue – familiar to the history of bilateral relations – centres on the commemorations and burial sites of Poles and Ukrainians who died or were killed in each other’s territories. There is a clear asymmetry in this matter: significantly more Poles have lost their lives on Ukrainian soil over the past century than the other way around. These victims include those from the war over Lviv in 1918; the Polish-Soviet War of 1920; the so-called Polish Operation of the NKVD in 1937–38, the September 1939 invasion; and other tragic events. The most harrowing of these was the so-called Volhynia massacre of 1943–44, when Ukrainian nationalists killed approximately 100,000 Poles in Volhynia and, the following year, in Eastern Galicia.

Since Ukraine’s independence, Warsaw has consistently called on Kyiv to permit the respectful, Christian burial of these victims. This requires search operations (archaeological in nature), followed by exhumations if necessary, and the placement of a cross or reinterment in existing or new cemeteries. The search and exhumation work needs authorization from Kyiv, which has only rarely and reluctantly granted it. In 2017, Ukraine de facto imposed a moratorium, citing as a reason the improper restoration of a damaged, legal Ukrainian memorial. This memorial, honouring soldiers from the nationalist Ukrainian Insurgent Army (an army responsible for the Volhynia massacre) who died fighting the NKVD, was located on Mount Monastyrz in Poland’s Subcarpathian Voivodeship. The site had been vandalized in 2015, likely by pro-Russian provocateurs, and again in 2020. The Polish side, questioning the authenticity of the burial site, restored the monument without the inscription “They died for a free Ukraine” or the list of those killed.

A chronicle of (un)romantic mishaps

This latest dispute over burial sites has erupted against a backdrop of already strained bilateral relations. The conflict encompasses a series of events and statements, but emotions play a significant role on both sides. The first major rift occurred in November 2022, when a Ukrainian missile, likely aimed at intercepting a Russian one, fell in the Polish village of Przewodów, killing two people. Kyiv refused to accept responsibility, has yet to present evidence, and did not offer condolences to the victims’ families. Instead, it maintained that the missile was Russian and argued that this attack should prompt deeper NATO involvement in the war on Ukraine’s side. This was met with, at best, confusion in Poland and disappointment in Ukraine, as Warsaw was unwilling to escalate tensions with Moscow on such tenuous grounds.

Further disagreements arose over trade and transport services. After the Russian invasion, the EU swiftly – albeit temporarily – lifted customs barriers on trade with Ukraine and waived permit requirements for Ukrainian truck drivers. Poland supported these measures to aid Ukraine, whose ports, essential for exports, had been seized or blocked by the aggressor. However, as imports to Poland and the transit of Ukrainian goods increased, along with the growing presence of Ukrainian drivers in Poland’s transport sector, Polish farmers and hauliers began to encounter challenges. In response, Poland, along with Hungary, Slovakia, Romania, and Bulgaria – who faced similar issues – imposed unilateral bans on certain Ukrainian imports while allowing transit (Kyiv, however, disregarded this distinction, intensifying tensions). This conflict coincided with Poland’s parliamentary elections in autumn 2023 and the local elections in spring 2024, which were fuelled further by Polish farmers’ protests. Although mainly directed against the EU’s Green Deal, farmers strategically chose to block routes to the Ukrainian border to gain publicity. Particularly provocative to Ukrainians were incidents where Polish farmers dumped Ukrainian grain, which was emotionally framed in Ukraine as the desecration of grain harvested from mined fields under Russian missile attacks. The blockades and embargoes culminated in President Zelenskyy accusing Warsaw at the United Nations in autumn 2023 of aiding Russia’s interests – a statement that sparked outrage across Poland’s political spectrum and attracted criticism in Ukraine as well.

The new Polish government maintained its predecessor’s policies towards Ukraine, prioritizing military and security support for the embattled nation and promoting this agenda in international forums. It upheld the embargo on certain Ukrainian imports, continued to oppose the permanent removal of permits for Ukrainian drivers, and, most contentiously, maintained its demand that Kyiv lift its restrictions on search and exhumation work in Ukraine. With no positive response from Kyiv, Poland’s government officials decided to make their support for Ukraine’s EU membership conditional on Kyiv’s compliance with this demand.

Divergent perceptions

Despite their geographic and linguistic proximity, Poland and Ukraine fundamentally differ in their perceptions of key issues in bilateral relations. Their main common ground is the threat posed by Russia. Yet even here, Kyiv and Warsaw diverge in assessing the extent of this danger. Ukraine views it as an existential threat and presents itself as the primary bulwark against Russia’s aggressive ambitions in Europe, while Poland – not entirely dismissing this view – remembers that it benefits from EU and NATO security guarantees.

Several other examples illustrate this contrast. In Ukraine, it is widely held that Poland – and Europe as a whole – should feel grateful for Ukraine’s defence against Russia. In Poland, however, the prevailing view is that Ukraine has been defending itself too, if not first of all, and should be grateful to Poland and Europe for their support in resisting Russia.

Ukrainians often believe that Poland’s early provision of arms and ammunition was motivated by self-interest, helping to confine the war within Ukraine’s borders. In Poland, however, there is a strong conviction that without this assistance – given at the expense of Poland’s own defence capacity – Ukraine might not have held out or gained support from other western partners. It is, after all, well known that Germany was sceptical of Ukraine’s resistance, even advising Kyiv to accept Russian terms before the invasion, and that the Zeitenwende policy seemed geared for a Ukrainian defeat rather than effective defence.

Warsaw takes pride in the role of Jasionka Airport near Rzeszów as the main hub for military support to Ukraine. In Kyiv, however, many hold the opinion that Poland’s role in this is minimal, with the United States ultimately controlling all logistics.

Finally, Ukraine’s highest authorities see the invasion as the world’s most significant event, warranting the alignment of all global efforts towards victory over Russia. Internationally, however, including in Poland, the war has become less prominent. Poles increasingly view their Ukrainian neighbours not only as victims of unlawful Russian aggression who deserve support, even at the cost to Polish well-being, but through the lens of Ukrainian refugees in Poland. While Polish businesses can hardly envision growth without them, in the wider public, sympathy and concern have gradually given way to envy and a sense of injustice – Polish women feel it towards Ukrainian women, Polish drivers towards the luxury SUVs of Ukrainian men who, rather than fighting on the front lines, are seen “cruising” around Polish cities. However reductive this perception is, and however unfair it feels to Ukrainians in Poland, it reflects sentiments that democratic governments in Poland cannot ignore. Kyiv may or may not find this appealing, but foreign policy is a function of domestic politics. Ukrainian leaders would do better to adapt to these changing attitudes than to take offence, and make efforts to effectively manage them.

Polish requests…

For years, Polish authorities, regardless of political alignment, have sought permission to conduct searches and exhumations of Polish victims on Ukrainian territory. This reflects the view in Poland that the Volhynia massacre is among the greatest tragedies of the 20th century, and that respect for the deceased, along with Christian commemoration, is a fundamental duty rooted in Polish values and cultural traditions. Ukraine’s moratorium is seen as a disproportionate response to Poland’s failure to fully restore the monument in Monastyrz – an issue on the Polish side, that must be urgently addressed by restoring it to its original form.

By refusing permission for search and exhumation work, Ukraine is alienating Polish society. Growing public criticism constrains politicians, who – like leaders in any democratic nation, including Ukraine – feel more like following, rather than opposing, public sentiment. Even if the Polish government’s military aid in the early months of the invasion was primarily a strategic investment in Poland’s own security, this does not undermine the fact that this assistance was timely and made it easier for Ukraine to defend itself. Ordinary Poles, however, did not make calculated decisions; they opened their homes out of compassion. These same Poles now struggle to understand Ukraine’s ban, feeling it reflects a lack of gratitude and mutual understanding.

The autumn remarks from Warsaw suggesting Ukraine’s EU integration would be conditional on permission for exhumations, stem from frustration over what is perceived as a lack of empathy from Kyiv. Poland feels cornered, and this stance should be seen as a last resort. After decades of efforts, Warsaw has lost faith that appeals will achieve its goal. This has spurred growing interest in a transactional approach to foreign policy – a lesson learned from other countries, including Ukraine. Sentiments of symbolic atonement for historical wrongs by Poles against Ukrainians are waning, replaced by a belief that Ukrainians do not need to be fond of Poles, and that a dispute with Kyiv over such a significant matter as the commemoration of the Volhynia massacre victims is not inherently negative. An unsentimental deal – granting permission for exhumations in exchange for EU integration – no longer evokes distaste and is increasingly accepted by the public.

…and Ukrainian fears

Ukrainians fear that if they agree to exhumations, Poland will then demand monuments bearing inscriptions about the perpetrators, followed by further pressure to change Ukraine’s memory policies and remove certain figures from the pantheon of national heroes. They overlook, however, that the moratorium effectively covers not only Polish victims in Volhynia but also those from other military conflicts in which Ukrainian nationalists were not involved. There is also a lack of recognition that Polish views on this issue have evolved in recent years. It is now understood in Poland that the process of glorifying Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN) leaders in Ukraine is irreversible, as Russian aggression – beginning in 2014 and expanding in 2022 – has entrenched a need to integrate them into Ukraine’s resistance tradition against Moscow, offering inspiration to those fighting today. Statues of Stepan Bandera or Yevhen Konovalets no longer shock in Poland, though street names honouring individuals directly responsible for the massacres, like the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA) commander Roman Shukhevych or Dmytro Klyachkivsky (Klym Savur), the UPA leader in Volhynia, remain hardly accepted. Poland has a right to object to such figures being celebrated, yet this does not mean it will demand a revision of Ukrainian memory policy. A clear declaration on this matter seems essential.

The strong consensus in Polish politics and society regarding the necessity of conducting exhumations is not widely acknowledged in Ukraine. Accusations that one party is politicizing this issue to mobilize one group of voters against another are largely misplaced. This highlights, not for the first time, a lack of familiarity in Ukraine with the nuances of Polish politics and, with few exceptions, a shortage of historians, sociologists and political scientists who study Poland and other neighbours in the long term.

Ukrainian historians frequently argue that the events in Volhynia were, in essence, a spontaneous Polish-Ukrainian conflict, caused by anti-Ukrainian policies pursued by the Second Polish Republic (1918–1939). They refer to policies of forced assimilation and the Catholicization of the Ukrainian minority, including the burning of Orthodox churches and pacification campaigns. While such policies did take place, they cannot justify and serve as a symmetry to the organized massacre of tens of thousands of Poles in Volhynia and Eastern Galicia by the UPA, often with support coerced from Ukrainian neighbours. Framing the issue in this way relativizes history and diminishes the victims, which Polish politicians and historians strongly oppose as factually inaccurate and indicative of Kyiv’s ill will. This is particularly true when, even amid the Russian invasion, Ukraine has exhumed around 2,000 bodies of German soldiers from both world wars.

In light of Ukraine’s potential EU integration, fears are growing in Kyiv that Poland might obstruct the process. Polish politicians’ remarks on making Kyiv’s EU path conditional on exhumations are perceived in Ukraine as ultimatums, driven by an intent to exploit Ukraine’s weakened state and dependence on western support. Kyiv recalls its experience with Hungary, where demands regarding minority rights had to be incorporated into Ukrainian legislation before the start of EU negotiations. These simply resulted in further opposition from Viktor Orbán concerning EU support for Ukraine, be it through the European Peace Facility or multi-billion-euro loans secured against Russian assets. There is a sense in Kyiv that Poland is pushing Ukraine into a corner, using coercion akin to Greece’s tactics with North Macedonia, aiming to subdue, if not break, Ukraine’s resolve. In a country where “saving face” in politics is paramount, and where the Russian invasion has reinforced a sense of self-esteem and agency, submitting to such ultimatums will be hard to accept.

Yet, Ukraine harbours high hopes for Poland’s EU presidency in the first half of next year. Kyiv anticipates significant progress. This concerns the opening of the first cluster of issues, as well as discussions on fundamentals and the establishment of benchmarks for opening the remaining clusters. These expectations are exceedingly high, bordering on unrealistic given Kyiv’s current level of preparation, as well as the limited power of the EU Council presidency. This creates a risk that opening only the first cluster – which would be a major success from the European Commission’s perspective – could be perceived in Kyiv as a failure, with Poland unfairly cast as the scapegoat.

The big picture

The political landscape in Europe is shifting in an unfavourable direction for Ukraine. War fatigue regarding Ukraine is growing, and Russia’s recent advances at the front are fuelling calls in the West for negotiations with Moscow, even on terms detrimental to Kyiv. Eurosceptic and Ukraine-sceptic parties are gaining strength in Germany and France, while public support for continued aid to Ukraine and its EU integration is also declining. Under these circumstances, Kyiv should recognize the value of having Poland as an advocate for Ukrainian security interests. Warsaw best understands Ukraine’s security needs and actively champions them on the international stage. Against this backdrop, Kyiv’s decision in October not to share classified annexes of three out of five points of President Zelenskyy’s Victory Plan with Poland seems, at the very least, short-sighted. Equally unwise is attributing to Foreign Minister Radosław Sikorski an alleged intention to reclaim Crimea for Ukraine via unseemly leaks to the press. The diplomat is one of the most respected on both sides of the Atlantic, and his stance on security is essentially aligned with that of Kyiv.

With mounting challenges, Ukraine requires a prudent foreign policy and stronger ties with its neighbours, not actions that risk alienating them.

Tadeusz Iwański is the head of the Belarus, Ukraine and Moldova department at the Center for Eastern Studies in Warsaw.

Public task financed by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Poland within the grant competition “Public Diplomacy 2024 – 2025 – the European dimension and countering disinformation”.

The opinions expressed in this publication are those of the authors and do not reflect the views of the official positions of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Poland.

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Poland, Polish foreign policy, Polish-Ukrainian relations, politics of memory, Russian invasion of Ukraine, Ukraine, Volhynia