The first round of Poland’s presidential election on May 18, 2025, didn’t produce a winner—but it did spark a reckoning. The runoff between Warsaw Mayor Rafał Trzaskowski and former state historian Karol Nawrocki is scheduled for June 1. On paper, it’s a contest between two men. In reality, it’s a battle over the soul—and future—of Poland.
This race isn’t just about choosing a president. It’s a political stress test for the country, a preview of potential upheavals ahead, and an X-ray of a deeply fractured society. The surface-level results—Trzaskowski with 31.2%, Nawrocki at 29.7%, and far-right firebrand Sławomir Mentzen capturing 14.8%—barely hint at the tectonic forces reshaping Poland’s political landscape.
Forget the numbers. The real story lies in how these candidates got here, what they represent, and the storm clouds gathering behind their campaigns.
From Solidarity to the Confederation: The Pendulum Swings Again
That no candidate among the thirteen could crack the 50% threshold speaks volumes. Poland is fragmented, disillusioned, and weary of the old political scripts. The fact that nearly one in two voters cast their ballots for a right-wing or far-right candidate should give Europe pause.
Turnout was high—66.8%—a clear signal that voters understand what’s at stake. This is no routine transition. This is a defining vote on Poland’s trajectory: its place in the world, its commitment to democratic values, and its readiness to weather the storms ahead.
Who Are Trzaskowski and Nawrocki—And Why Are They Such a Dangerous Matchup?
Rafał Trzaskowski, the urbane, multilingual mayor of Warsaw, is the standard-bearer of Poland’s liberal, pro-European establishment. Backed by Prime Minister Donald Tusk and the ruling Civic Coalition, Trzaskowski’s support is rooted in the country’s big cities, its academic class, and the political veterans of the post-communist center-left. His 31.2% was solid, if unspectacular.
Karol Nawrocki is a different creature altogether. The former head of Poland’s controversial Institute of National Remembrance, he’s the nationalist right’s answer to liberal dominance—a pugnacious ideologue backed by Law and Justice (PiS). His campaign has leaned hard into anti-immigrant rhetoric, Ukrainian refugee-bashing, and a no-apologies brand of social conservatism. He openly admires Donald Trump and has made “traditional values” a centerpiece of his pitch.
The runoff is too close to call. The margin between the two front-runners is less than two percentage points. And the key to victory now lies with the voters of a third man.
Sławomir Mentzen: The Wild Card in a High-Stakes Endgame
Once dismissed as a political fringe, Mentzen and his Confederation party are suddenly kingmakers. His 14.8% shocked the establishment and revealed a growing appetite—especially among younger voters and disaffected entrepreneurs—for hard-right, anti-EU, libertarian-flavored politics.
Mentzen's appeal is raw and insurgent. Anti-immigration, anti-Brussels, anti-system. His rise signals not just a protest vote, but a realignment. He’s now the man both Trzaskowski and Nawrocki can’t ignore.
Open talks are underway between Mentzen’s camp and Nawrocki’s. The terms? Likely a Faustian bargain: policy concessions, ministerial seats, and a sharp turn on immigration. The Confederation wants power, and they’re ready to play hardball to get it.
What Happens in Warsaw Won’t Stay in Warsaw
Donald Tusk put it bluntly: “These two weeks will decide the fate of our homeland.” But in 2025, the notion of “homeland” extends far beyond Poland’s borders. This election is about more than one country—it’s about the stability of the European project.
Poland is the EU’s largest eastern member, a key NATO player, and a linchpin in the Western alliance backing Ukraine. A Nawrocki win could mark a decisive break from this alignment. He’s already accused Ukrainian refugees of draining Poland’s budget and hinted at a pivot away from Kyiv. A President Nawrocki could slow or reverse military aid to Ukraine, oppose future sanctions on Russia, and throw cold water on American troop deployments.
None of this is lost on Washington—especially not on President Trump, who has expressed admiration for Nawrocki’s message. Poland could become a Trojan horse inside the EU, echoing Trump’s euro-skepticism and disrupting continental unity from within.
Three Roads After June 1: Poland’s Near Future in Scenarios
Scenario 1: Trzaskowski Wins
A win for Trzaskowski would greenlight continued judicial reforms, deeper EU integration, and closer alignment with Brussels and Washington. Poland would likely double down on support for Ukraine and reclaim its role as a democratic anchor in the region. But the backlash could be fierce. Expect mass protests, civil disobedience, and a reinvigorated hard right.
Scenario 2: Nawrocki Wins
This outcome sets the stage for a political cage match. Nawrocki would likely block Tusk’s reforms, challenge judicial independence, and provoke a constitutional standoff. He might even push for snap parliamentary elections, betting that a rightward wave could bring Law and Justice back to power.
Scenario 3: Nawrocki and Mentzen Join Forces
The most destabilizing option. A right-far-right alliance would upend Poland’s domestic and foreign policy. Civil liberties would be at risk. Tensions with the EU would spike. Relations with Ukraine could sour. And Poland, once seen as the EU’s eastern bulwark, might morph into an isolated republic of fear and reaction.
Whichever path Poland chooses on June 1, one thing is clear: the country isn’t just voting for a president. It’s deciding what kind of democracy it wants to be—and whether it still wants to be part of the European future at all.
Symbols of Triumph and Failure in Poland’s Presidential Race
Rafał Trzaskowski, the charismatic liberal mayor of Warsaw and face of Poland’s urban center-left, entered the race aiming for a first-round knockout. His campaign strategy was clear: flex political muscle early, dominate the right flank, and send a message of liberal momentum. But the results told a different story. Scraping past the 30% threshold, Trzaskowski finished only 1.5 points ahead of his conservative rival, Karol Nawrocki. It wasn’t a defeat—but it stung. Especially when compared to Romania, where Nicușor Dan, a fellow liberal figurehead, staged a stunning comeback in his own runoff, gaining twenty points against a populist firebrand.
Nawrocki’s arc couldn’t be more different. His numbers exceeded expectations, with rural Poland once again proving to be a blind spot for urban-centric pollsters. Nawrocki is the candidate of the “silent majority”—a Poland that doesn’t make noise but always shows up. His base? Elderly, rural, culturally conservative voters. And they just might carry him to the presidency.
Two Tones, Two Tempos
After the votes were counted, the contrast between the two finalists became instantly clear. Trzaskowski delivered his remarks in a calm, measured tone—like a conductor guiding a symphony. “We’re in the lead. Now we just need to keep the tempo,” he said.
Nawrocki, meanwhile, came out swinging. His speech was a barrage of accusations, challenges, and political daredevilry. His campaign has shifted into a combat mode, designed to provoke, to polarize, and to pull voters deeper into the fray. Charges of fraud, demands for televised debates, relentless attacks—this isn’t panic. It’s a deliberate strategy. Stoke the base. Expand the battlefield. And, crucially, glance hard to the right—toward Grzegorz Braun and Sławomir Mentzen.
The Right Wing: Beyond the Pale, But Not Without Power
This is where things get dicey. Poland’s radical right has broken out of the margins. With over 20% of the vote, it’s no longer a protest—it’s a movement. And it’s not just Euroskepticism. It’s a combustible mix of xenophobia, anti-Ukrainian rhetoric, religious fundamentalism, and open hostility to “the other.”
Mentzen plays the part of a polished, technocratic nationalist. Braun? He’s a walking provocation—a man who burns EU flags, stages “citizens’ arrests,” and walks the edge of legality. And yet, he’s no longer fringe. With 5–6% nationally, he’s a parliamentary player. Poland is entering an era where extremists don’t just make the news—they shape the agenda.
The Second Round: No Certainties, Only Risks
Now the real battle begins. Exit polls give Trzaskowski a narrow edge—but it’s fragile, like spring ice on the Vistula.
First, the math: right-wing candidates collectively won over 50% in the first round. On paper, that’s a deep reservoir for Nawrocki to draw from. But the politics are messier. Many of Mentzen and Braun’s voters see PiS—the party behind Nawrocki—as sellouts. They remember COVID lockdowns, Brussels compromises, and crushed grassroots initiatives. They might sit this one out rather than vote for what they see as the establishment in disguise.
Second, age. Older voters didn’t turn out in full force in round one. If Nawrocki can tap into nostalgia—memories of a “simpler” Poland untouched by liberal modernity—he may find the turnout he needs.
But Trzaskowski has a hidden reserve of his own: the youth. Voters under 30 didn’t rally behind him in the first round—but they didn’t vote for Nawrocki either. Their political heroes are polar opposites like Mentzen and leftist Adrian Zandberg, united only by their disgust with Poland’s political old guard. Trzaskowski’s challenge is to speak their language, channel their discontent into constructive support, and make himself relevant to their future.
Crunch Time: Every Move Counts
With less than two weeks to go, the outcome may hinge on details: debates, rallies, last-minute controversies, or a viral moment. Two massive events are already scheduled—Trzaskowski’s “March of Patriots” and Nawrocki’s “March for Poland.” Warsaw’s streets will become the stage for a symbolic clash of worldviews.
The debates? They could be decisive. Trzaskowski is the more polished speaker, the more agile rhetorician. But there are no guarantees. Tension, aggression, and a single slip-up could outweigh eloquence.
Enter Maciej Macek: The Pro-Russian Troll or Trojan Horse?
Beneath the duel between Trzaskowski and Nawrocki, a strange new figure has emerged: Maciej Macek, the leader of the “Movement for Prosperity and Peace.” A month ago, few in Warsaw knew his name. Now, he’s the talk of Telegram channels and the subject of nervous chatter among security experts.
Macek scored just 0.4%. But his significance lies not in his numbers, but in the questions he’s forced onto the table. He may be a sideshow—or he may be a warning.
He’s Poland’s first openly pro-Russian candidate in over three decades. He doesn’t hide his sympathies. His platform is straight out of Kremlin playbook: Ukraine is losing, the West dragged Poland into someone else’s war, and peace lies in dialogue with Moscow. His aesthetic matches the message—chain-smoking Belarusian “Minsk” cigarettes, praising Lukashenko, promising to shut down a NATO base in 24 hours.
It sounds ridiculous. It also sounds dangerous.
Kamil Basaj, a leading analyst with INFO OPS Polska, sees Macek’s candidacy as a test run. A probe of Poland’s institutional defenses. Can a hostile actor follow the rules, gather the signatures, land a spot on the ballot—and gain a national platform? Apparently, yes. Macek met the thresholds. He got airtime. He got interviews. He got security.
The system let it happen. And now, the question is: what happens next?
The Election as Vulnerability: When Democracy Opens the Back Door
Maciej Macek’s unlikely candidacy should serve as both a wake-up call and a warning. His brief, bizarre campaign exposed a critical flaw in Poland’s electoral architecture—one that many had assumed was sealed tight. For decades, the 100,000-signature requirement was seen as a firewall against fringe or foreign-backed actors. Macek tore a hole through that firewall. And no one—not journalists, not election officials, not security agencies—can say with confidence where those signatures came from, who collected them, or how thoroughly they were verified.
The danger is twofold. Yes, there’s the symbolic threat of a pro-Russian figure, however marginal, making it onto a national ballot. But the deeper concern is procedural: if someone like Macek—resourced, motivated, and potentially backed by interests hostile to Poland—can game the system, what’s to stop a more polished, more charismatic, and far more dangerous figure from doing the same?
Macek may have been a test balloon. The next one could be a missile.
A Lone Wolf with No Pack
The numbers don’t lie. Macek finished in political oblivion, pulling just 0.4% of the vote. That’s the hard ceiling for pro-Kremlin rhetoric in a country whose collective memory is shaped by Katyn, the Warsaw Uprising, the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, and the legacy of General Jaruzelski. No matter how fractured the Polish electorate—left, right, agrarian, urban, generational—it shares one unshakable instinct: rejection of Moscow as a political alternative.
Macek doesn’t just lack an electoral future. He has no political pathway at all. No coalition. No allies. No door left to knock on.
Macek as a Warning Sign
Still, his candidacy matters. Not because he has a platform, but because he’s a symptom. A sign that Russia is no longer just interested in the eastern front—but is probing the European rear guard as well. Democracy becomes a vulnerability. Free speech becomes a cloak. The law becomes a tool.
In that sense, Macek’s 0.4% isn’t a defeat. It’s a metric. A test result. A stress fracture. The question isn’t what to do with Macek. The question is what to do about the conditions that let him happen in the first place.
That’s why, even before the runoff, a chorus is building in Warsaw’s political circles: change the electoral laws. This isn’t about censorship or repression. It’s about insulation—strengthening verification, tightening procedures, defending the system from hostile code injected under the guise of democracy.
Poland can’t afford to become a sandbox for foreign experiments.
The Rhetorical Exit: What This Race Really Means
Macek lost—but left a mark. He exposed how twenty-first century sabotage doesn’t require tanks, spies, or manifestos. Just signatures. A camera. A pack of Belarusian cigarettes. A few Telegram interviews praising “real men like Putin.”
And now the question isn’t what to do with him. It’s what we do with what he revealed.
Poland stands at a threshold. Here, every mistake costs a percentage point. Every percentage point could rewrite the future.
A win for Trzaskowski would signal a vote of confidence in the liberal project—urban Poland, European integration, democratic modernization. A win for Nawrocki would be a win for something older and angrier: the soil, the gut, the instinct to shut the door, to go back, to protect and exclude.
But neither outcome will settle the fight. It will only determine who gets the mandate to lead Poland into its next political cycle.
And the nature of that cycle? As always, it will be decided by the devil in the details.
“Poland is turning brown,” wrote Marta Nowak, a columnist for Gazeta Wyborcza. Is that an exaggeration? Maybe. But the rise of the far-right isn’t speculation. It’s measurable. It’s real. And it’s alarming.
The second round isn’t just Trzaskowski vs. Nawrocki. It’s a referendum on what kind of country Poland wants to be: open or closed, united or divided, European—or just Polish.
On June 1, 2025, Poland won’t just elect a president. It will decide the face it shows to the twenty-first century. Or whether it turns away.