The coalition partners act largely as couriers for a higher agenda. Even if their own members wouldn’t voice it aloud, they don’t see a clearer path forward any time soon.
Commands like “Sit!”, “Fetch!”, or “Go to the kennel!”—the language that dominates the ruling coalition—are not spoken aloud, yet the meaning lingers in their carefully measured statements. When Donald Tusk issues a blunt remark that seems aimed at Szymon Hołownia, it sounds like a warning to hold back from overreaching: a reminder that not every leap will be rewarded with a higher perch. In this coalition, loyalty is measured in concessions and partial wins; when one side presses too hard, others groan and protest. Change of roles is not on the table.
When the well-known linguist of Polish politics makes a comment about the tactical mood within the Civic Coalition and Third Way, suggesting that the aim was to remove PiS from power and that the next election should test personal conviction, commentators launched into a wave of analysis. Hołownia responded by turning to the board and asserting that the goal was not merely to win once, but to deliver lasting government results. Poles, he argued, want real reforms: hospital improvements, better schools, and simpler taxes, embodied in the twelve guarantees of the Third Way program.
Political scientists and sociologists began drafting hypotheses about a crisis within the governing camp. Yet a true crisis requires a real balance of power among parties, and that balance never existed. Narratives about extraordinary favors granted to the Third Way by the Civic Coalition are, in this view, unfounded. Tusk’s side would have preferred a higher electoral result; in practice, they fared better than four years ago only by avoiding a larger defeat to Law and Justice. In other words, they lost individually, not won collectively.
After Third Road captured 14.40 percent of the vote, the overall coalition prospects appeared stronger, but the so‑called extra “help” was seen by many as merely a tactic to discredit the Third Way. Some argued that Hołownia’s campaign helped Tusk by drawing votes that might otherwise have gone elsewhere. If one assumes the Polish People’s Party had around 1.6 million votes, and that Hołownia’s influence rose to about 1.5 million votes by 2050, it is viewed by many as a contribution from Hołownia’s camp rather than a windfall for Tusk.
It is said that Tusk did not become the beneficiary of the Third Way, and the coalition’s result—nearly 1.6 million votes better than four years prior—was the ceiling he could push to. Consequently, he could not convey any extraordinary strategy or promise, because he had no surplus to deploy. What appeared on social and media spaces was perceived as a reveal of his true intent and style—an approach that resembles training commands rather than forward momentum.
In Tusk’s view, the crucial arena is territorial governance. He argues that cooperation matters most at the level of provincial assemblies, where the Third Way has few choices but to work with the Civic Coalition after elections. At other local levels, every party pursues its own interests, and it is common for the ruling coalition to absorb defeats as a given. Local coalitions are often provisional, a practical arrangement to divide spoils rather than a long-term alignment.
In this context, the principle of loyalty feels worn out, and its practical relevance has faded in both parliamentary and local governance. Politicians seem to act for themselves and their immediate clientele. 2024 demanded even tougher choices to demonstrate loyalty to supporters, and the notion of governing for the public good becomes secondary to maintaining control. Assertions about guiding beliefs as the sole criterion can be read as a reminder to prioritize one’s own base, even at the cost of coalition partners. For local constituencies, the size of the available resources—and what can be delivered with them—often dictates behavior. Alliances form and dissolve in the same breath, with the focus always on individual gains rather than a grand national plan.
From this perspective, governing appears as an exercise of power rather than a mission for national progress. Ideals, comprehensive programs, and long-term ambitions can feel almost quaint when measured against the pressure to deliver immediate outcomes. Tactical concessions occur, and occasional events affect someone within the political machinery, but the central actors remain the party apparatus and its grip on power. The aim becomes preserving influence and maintaining control, not achieving monumental public works. Strength and resolve to push through decisions become the defining traits, while broader goals grow dim in the glare of day-to-day politics.
For Tusk, Hołownia remains a key piece, even if only a pillar in the structure. He is kept close and sometimes exploited, a means to further a plan rather than an equal partner in governance. The partnership, as described by many observers, never truly existed. The roles resemble a system of actors who perform tasks to sustain a power base, with loyalty demanded as a form of compliance. The result is a dynamic where the collaborators carry out orders and accept limited influence for the sake of remaining within the circle of power.
In this analysis, the political drama is less about policy outcomes and more about control—who holds it, how it’s demonstrated, and who benefits from the arrangement. The broader public interest often gets subsumed under the calculus of who can steer influence and who will be left with the spoils. The complexity of alliances, the push-pull of competing agendas, and the persistence of self-interest all shape a landscape where power remains the central axis. The practical takeaway is clear: cooperation may exist in appearance, but it operates within a framework that prioritizes staying in power over constructing a stable, ambitious national program.