Editorial: A Different Kind of President

Karol Nawrocki will take office as President of the Republic of Poland on 6 August. A transition full of symbolism—not because it marks a radical break with his predecessor, but because it intensifies the conservative trajectory of recent years. Nawrocki is a historian, not a career politician in the traditional sense. Yet his rise is indebted to the support of the national-conservative Law and Justice party (PiS) and to a social climate that has become increasingly ideologised.

His first appointment already hints at the direction of travel: Sławomir Cenckiewicz, a controversial historian and polemicist, is to lead the National Security Bureau (BBN)—a body akin to a national security council, with direct access to the levers of state. That Cenckiewicz is neither soldier, diplomat nor security expert, but rather a prominent figure in Poland’s memory politics, has caused unease—not only among opposition circles.

A Historian in Charge of Security

In recent years, Cenckiewicz has made a name for himself—less through sober historical analysis than through combative rhetoric. His repeated attempts to discredit Lech Wałęsa by invoking files from the communist secret police have raised eyebrows, even among fellow historians. Respected colleagues such as Andrzej Friszke have warned against the instrumentalisation of the past. Yet among segments of the right, Cenckiewicz is viewed as a truth-teller—and in Nawrocki’s circles, apparently as a confidant.

The two men know each other from their time at the Institute of National Remembrance (IPN), a government institution which, under PiS, has assumed an increasingly political function. There, history became a weapon in the culture war—against liberalism, against Brussels, and against everything perceived as “unpatriotic”, or in the Polish context: “un-Polish”.

Conservative, But With a Sharper Edge

That Nawrocki is not another Andrzej Duda is evident in tone and agenda. In his second term, Duda had tried to position himself as a conciliator, particularly after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. His foreign policy was transatlantic in orientation; his dealings with the opposition were, if not warm, then at least tactically civil. Nawrocki, by contrast, appears to want to be a president who shapes rather than moderates. And having narrowly defeated Warsaw’s liberal mayor Rafał Trzaskowski, he reads his victory as a mandate not just to reform institutions, but to recast the national conversation—domestically, and perhaps internationally too. Toward Trump’s Washington, von der Leyen’s Brussels, and Putin’s Moscow.

One factor should not be underestimated: the political mood in the country. Poland’s young men are voting increasingly to the right—out of frustration, conviction or protest. Western Europe’s refugee policies—especially under Angela Merkel—have left their mark. Borders are tightening. Islamist terror attacks, of the kind seen across Western capitals, are something Poland is determined to avoid. The LGBTQ debate, too, is often seen as an imported agenda. In a globalised world where identities seem to dissolve, the return to nation, Church and order feels, to many, like a stabilising force. No experiments, thank you—especially not those that might end in tragedy.

What Promises Stability May Breed Exclusion

But what promises stability may quickly congeal into rigidity or exclusion. The political fringe has crept into the centre. Figures like Grzegorz Braun—known for antisemitic provocations and surprisingly pro-Russian rhetoric—are no longer outliers. They are part of a new political normal. The Konfederacja, in which Braun had played a leading role, combines libertarian economics with ultra-conservative social doctrine. Yet in a striking turn, Braun has recently broken with parts of the Confederation leadership—most notably with Sławomir Mentzen—accusing them of abandoning core principles and compromising with the political mainstream. Whether this signals the emergence of a splinter faction or a strategic repositioning remains to be seen, but it underscores the internal turbulence and ideological tensions within the far right. 

As a vivid example of Poland’s polarisation, one might point to the emergence of citizen militias—not only at the border but increasingly within cities and rural communities. These self-organised patrols, often composed of young men, are presented as patriotic volunteers safeguarding order. But their existence hints at a creeping militarisation of civil society—one that could destabilise institutions rather than reinforce them. 

Outwardly, Poland presents itself as the model pupil of NATO: record-breaking defence spending, an ambitious military overhaul, firm opposition to Moscow. Yet beneath the surface, tensions are growing. The term “patriotic army”, as used by Cenckiewicz, is cause for concern. Patriotism can inspire—but it can also divide, especially when linked to selective historical narratives and strict tests of loyalty.

Relations with Brussels remain strained. The PiS-affiliated elite have long looked to Budapest with interest, observing Viktor Orbán’s illiberal model. Media, judiciary, education: all domains to be brought under national control. The goal is a Poland that charts its own path—even if that path runs counter to European law.

Poland’s Own Way?

So far, Karol Nawrocki has avoided making clear statements on the EU. Instead, he speaks of sovereignty, of Polish values, of “our own way”. This need not signify a break with Europe—but it could become one. Especially now, as Poland moves from being a net recipient to a net contributor to the EU budget, the question arises: how long will money outweigh principle?

And how stable is Donald Tusk’s pro-European coalition, already straining at the seams? The future of Poland will not be decided by the president alone—but his influence on the national discourse is undeniable.

Poland remains part of Europe—geographically, culturally, militarily. But politically, it may be drifting away. 6 August will not mark the end of democracy, nor the beginning of authoritarianism. But it will be a defining moment: a shift for determining what kind of patriotism, what interpretation of history, and what vision of Europe will shape the country’s future.

Statement

The tone is growing harsher. The rhetoric sharper. The debate more ideological and explosive. Those who love the country should not only value strength—but also measure and restraint. For in the story Nawrocki and Cenckiewicz seek to write, it is not only what is written that matters—but what is omitted. Future generations will read it closely.