Ukraine and Poland on the Brink of a New Historical Crisis: Why the Dispute Around the UPA Has Become a Political Blow to the Alliance
Ukrainian-Polish relations are going through one of their most difficult moments since the beginning of the full-scale Russian-Ukrainian war. The formal reason was President Volodymyr Zelensky’s decree granting the Separate Special Operations Center “North” of the Special Operations Forces of the Armed Forces of Ukraine the honorary name “named after the Heroes of the UPA.” But the real tension is much deeper Ukraine and Poland have once again collided not only over history, but over how this history affects modern politics, security, European integration and trust between the two states.
The decree was signed on May 26. The document states that the decision was made “with the aim of restoring the historical traditions of the national army,” as well as taking into account the unit’s performance of tasks in defending Ukraine’s territorial integrity and independence. For Kyiv, this logic is understandable: a state fighting a war for survival seeks symbols of continuity in its own resistance. In the Ukrainian view, the UPA is primarily part of the struggle for an independent Ukraine, including against Soviet power. For the Polish side, the UPA has an entirely different reading. In Polish historical memory, this name is inseparably linked to the Volyn tragedy, which Poland officially qualifies as genocide against the Polish population in Volyn. That is why Kyiv’s decision was perceived in Warsaw not as a military tradition, but as a painful political gesture connected with the memory of the victims. This is where the main knot of the problem arises. The same historical symbol means different things for Ukraine and Poland. For Ukraine, it means the struggle for statehood. For Poland, it means the memory of tragedy. If these two dimensions are not separated, any decision by one side will automatically be perceived by the other as a denial of its pain.
Poland’s reaction was sharp. President Karol Nawrocki criticized Zelensky’s decision and announced his intention to initiate the deprivation of the Ukrainian president of the Order of the White Eagle. The chapter of the order has already discussed this proposal, and Nawrocki’s spokesman Rafał Leśkiewicz said that the position had been conveyed to the president, who will make a decision in due time. This is no longer just a symbolic step. The Order of the White Eagle is Poland’s highest state award, so even the initiative to strip it away turns a historical dispute into an interstate signal. If such a decision is made, it will have not only an emotional but also a foreign policy effect. Polish Foreign Minister Radosław Sikorski drew attention to precisely this. His position shows that there is no full unity in Polish politics regarding escalation around Zelensky.
“I personally believe that it will be strange if it turns out that, if we narrow the matter down to the living, the Order of the White Eagle is held by former German Chancellor Gerhard Schröder, who receives money from Putin, but not by the one who is fighting Putin.”
This phrase is important not only as criticism of Nawrocki’s initiative. It shows the political disproportionality of the situation. If the president of a country fighting Russia can lose a Polish award, while it is held by a politician associated with Russian money, this creates a complicated signal for Poland’s foreign policy. Especially at a moment when Russia remains the main threat to the entire eastern part of Europe. The sharpest danger lies in the fact that the historical dispute has begun to turn quickly into an instrument of modern political pressure. Polish politicians are already speaking about the possibility of blocking Ukraine’s accession to the EU. This fundamentally changes the scale of the conflict. It is no longer only about a discussion around memory, but about a potential influence on Ukraine’s strategic path.
If the issue of historical memory is transferred into the sphere of European integration, the conflict may become much more dangerous for Kyiv. Poland is an important neighbor, ally, logistical partner and EU member. Its position matters not only in bilateral relations, but also in broader European politics. At the same time, Ukraine cannot simply abandon its own historical policy under external pressure. That would also have consequences. If Kyiv changes its decision only because of ultimatums, it will create a precedent in which another state effectively influences the Ukrainian national pantheon. For a country fighting a war for independence, such a signal would be internally dangerous. That is why the Ukrainian position is based on the right to independently determine its own heroes. Kyiv does not consider Zelensky’s decision a mistake and explains that the unit’s name was the choice of Ukrainian servicemen. This is an important argument it is not only about a presidential gesture, but about the identity of a specific military unit carrying out combat missions during the war. People’s Deputy Ihor Huz formulated this position as directly as possible:
“The first thing that needs to be done is to tell the whole world, including our Polish friends, that we ourselves will determine who our heroes are. And the Ukrainian Insurgent Army, and I thank the president, are heroes of the Ukrainian state who fought for a Ukrainian independent united state. And only we in our own country will decide whether they are our heroes or not. At the same time, we will not tell Poles what the Home Army did, or what other formations in Poland did, including not only in Poland, but also on the territory of Volyn.”
This position reflects Ukraine’s deep sensitivity to external dictate in matters of history. It also demonstrates the line Kyiv does not want to retreat beyond: the Ukrainian state is not ready to admit that its historical symbols can be approved or canceled under the political pressure of neighbors.
But there is another line that also cannot be ignored. Ukraine’s right to its own memory does not cancel the need to speak with Poland about the Volyn tragedy. For Polish society, this is not a secondary issue and not a topic that can easily be postponed. The memory of the victims has special significance for Poland, and this is exactly what Minister of National Defense Władysław Kosiniak-Kamysz voiced. The Polish position is that the memory of the victims of the Volyn tragedy cannot be a matter for discussion. This is where the difficulty lies. Ukraine cannot give Poland the right to decide whom Ukrainians consider fighters for independence. But Ukraine also cannot pretend that Polish trauma does not exist or will not have political consequences. A strong position does not necessarily mean a refusal of sensitivity. On the contrary, state maturity often lies in holding one’s own line while not devaluing the pain of the other side. Polish Prime Minister Donald Tusk tried to move the conversation from emotional escalation into the sphere of political responsibility.
“If we quarrel over the past, someone else will win the future. The Ukrainian president should finally understand this. The Polish one as well. Before it is too late.”
This phrase perhaps most accurately describes the risk of the moment. Ukraine and Poland may have different assessments of the past, but their future is now objectively connected by security, war, the Russian threat, the border, the European Union and regional stability. If two states allow a historical dispute to destroy a strategic partnership, neither Kyiv nor Warsaw will win. The most difficult thing in this crisis is that both sides have their own internal logic. Ukraine sees the UPA as part of the struggle for independence. Poland sees in this name a reminder of tragedy. Ukrainian soldiers want to have a name that symbolizes resistance for them. Polish families of the Volyn victims may perceive this as a humiliation of memory. That is why simple solutions do not work here.
A complete rejection of the name could look to part of Ukrainian society like a concession under pressure. Complete disregard for the Polish reaction may strike relations with Warsaw even harder. The best way out, if it is possible, should not be about one side defeating the other, but about a formula that would allow Ukraine not to renounce its own historical memory and at the same time make a gesture of respect toward Polish memory of the Volyn tragedy. This is the very direction proposed by Polish historian and political analyst Łukasz Adamski. He speaks about several possible strategies for exiting escalation. One of them is the recontextualization of the name, that is, clarifying that it refers to the heroes of the UPA who fought against Soviet invaders. Another option is an initiative by the soldiers themselves to change the wording so as not to quarrel with Poland. The third path is to leave the decree in force, but to make a separate historical gesture toward the Volyn families, that is, the families of the UPA’s victims.
“One could, let us say, get off this path [of escalation]. And there are three possible, perhaps not options, but strategies of action here. First, one could carry out a recontextualization of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army, that is, add there, for example, ‘heroes of the UPA who fought against the Soviet invaders.’
The second path would be if, for example, the soldiers themselves appealed to President Zelensky and said that, ‘Mr. President, we respect the members of the UPA, but we do not want to quarrel with Poland, with our reliable friend, over this name, and we propose to change it.’ Well, the third path is that this decree remains in force, but on the other hand the Ukrainian authorities would make some historical gesture toward the Volyn families, that is, the families of the UPA’s victims.” These options are important because they do not require Ukraine’s complete self-denial. They seek a way to reduce tension without humiliating the Ukrainian position. This could be a practical path if political will exists on both sides.
The story of Andrzej Szeptycki, Poland’s deputy minister of science, who was criticized after comparing UPA soldiers to Polish anti-communist underground fighters, was also revealing. He emphasized that the UPA, regardless of the assessment of the Volyn tragedy, fought for Ukraine’s independence, primarily against Soviet power, and called that struggle hopeless. The very fact that Szeptycki was criticized demonstrates how narrow the space for a complex conversation is in the Polish public sphere. This is an important signal for Ukraine: even attempts to distinguish between different dimensions of UPA history in Poland can provoke strong resistance. Therefore, any decision by Kyiv regarding such symbols will almost automatically have a reaction in Warsaw. And this should be taken into account not as a ban, but as a political reality. The Ukrainian Insurgent Army operated on the territory of Ukraine in 1942–1956 and fought against the Soviet and Nazi armies for an independent Ukraine. For Ukrainian historical memory, this has fundamental significance. But that is precisely why this topic requires particular precision. Because if the Ukrainian state speaks only about the struggle for independence, Poland hears silence about Volyn. If Poland speaks only about Volyn, Ukraine hears a denial of its own struggle for statehood.
The crisis around the name of a military unit has shown that Ukrainian-Polish relations need not formal statements about friendship, but difficult and honest work with memory. Alliance does not mean identical history. It means the ability not to destroy the present because the past remains painful. The worst scenario is the transformation of a historical dispute into a political weapon. If Polish politicians begin using the topic of the UPA to block Ukraine’s European integration, and Ukrainian politicians respond only with harsh rhetoric without any gesture toward Polish memory, the crisis will deepen. It may hit trust, defense cooperation, support for Ukraine in the EU and the ability of the two countries to act together in confronting Russia. The best scenario is to find a formula that recognizes two things at the same time. First Ukraine determines its own heroes and cannot hand this right over to another state. Second Polish memory of the Volyn tragedy needs respect, not disregard. This is not a simple formula. It will not satisfy radical voices on either side. But it is precisely such decisions that often save state relations from collapse. Because real political responsibility does not lie in winning an argument on social media, but in not losing an ally in a real war and a real Europe. Ukraine has the right to its own historical memory. Poland has the right to the memory of its victims. There does not necessarily have to be an abyss between these two truths. But if politicians on both sides begin building careers on it, this abyss will quickly become wider than the dispute itself. Today the main question is not only whether Ukraine will change the name of the unit. The main question is whether Kyiv and Warsaw will be able to get out of this crisis without humiliating each other. Because if not, the past will once again become not memory, but an instrument that strikes at the future.
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