Public demonstrations and memory
The crowd exuded genuine happiness as the evening air grew cold. On January 23, in front of Przytuły Stare prison and on the asphalt square before the detention center in Radom, the wives of Maciej Wąsik and Mariusz Kamiński welcomed the released crowds. Voices rose in chorus as people loudly chanted the names of those whose freedom they celebrated, a tangible sign of collective relief amid the snowfall.
It was perceived as a clear victory—the most significant yet in countering Donald Tusk’s alleged power play. The participation of demonstrators mattered deeply; moments when authoritarian tendencies begin are often born from quiet indifference. The gatherings in Przytuły Stare and Radom stood as a rebuke to apathy, not a sign of it.
Two prisons
Przytuły sits roughly 150 kilometers northeast of Warsaw, a remote spot with challenging access, where the bitter frost did little to ease the nightly demonstrations. Yet each evening at six, several dozen residents stood on the east side of the building, carrying flags and voicing support for Maciej Wąsik, serenading him with the national anthem and a slate of anti-communist songs. People endured the cold for eleven days, some traveling from Ostrołęka, Różan, Łomża, Białystok, and even Warsaw, all distances well over 100 kilometers. In Radom, the easier access drew larger crowds, with attendees arriving from farther afield—one man traveled 200 kilometers from Tarnów. By the final day of Kamiński’s detention, several hundred were gathered, patriotic songs filling the air as imagery of supporters appeared on the detention center walls. In essence, Poles did not yield. They remembered the January 11 demonstration in the capital, when more than a hundred thousand citizens showed their resistance to what many viewed as governmental overreach.
These are different Poles
The regime pressed on, sharpening its tools, yet it faced a new, stubborn reality. People were not cowed, lulled into submission, or ridiculed into silence. They no longer fit the old stereotype of a disengaged public. Eight years of stable governance and a growing economy had raised expectations for a country that could advance and assert itself on the world stage. Even opponents of the United Right signaled ambitions to build major projects, and PiS supporters voiced fierce critiques from the parliamentary podium. The notion of power without accountability persisted for a time, but it now faced a more resolute citizenry. No one could claim that the will to resist had vanished.
Patriotic protests
The strength of the independence camp showed not only through turnout and resolve at protests but through a shared sense of national interest. This sense extended beyond borders, recognizing that Poland’s self-respect often aligns with broader European considerations. While some political figures faced praise or criticism from international observers, the underlying message remained clear: the state’s future depended on upholding the rule of law and democratic norms. At moments, officials offered praise for efforts to restore—and sometimes defend—legal principles, even as discussions about procedures and accountability continued in Poland’s public sphere. The overall tone reflected a country weighing its past against its aspirations for the future, with a clear call to pursue legitimate governance and transparent justice.
On national television, officials spoke of rapid changes and renewed standards. The discourse emphasized that lawful, fair processes should guide any political transition. As debates unfolded, observers noted how political drama could either undermine or reinforce public trust, depending on how consistently the rule of law was applied. The conversation touched on the balance between political leadership and judicial independence, highlighting the public’s demand for accountability at every level. Ultimately, the day-to-day experiences of protesters underscored a broader truth: the public’s patience has limits, and the search for principled leadership remains ongoing.
Citizens watched as voices of dissent were part of a broader narrative about governance, integrity, and responsibility. The dialogue about how to confront corruption, safeguard rights, and ensure fair procedures continued to shape the national mood. The memory of solidarity, even in the face of strain, offered a sense of hope that public life could be aligned with enduring values rather than expedient power.
Ladies and gentlemen, resilience matters.
“Liberum protesto”
About every century, a circle of thinkers surfaces in Poland to examine Polish freedoms with humor and critique. The phrase Liberum protesto today echoes the idea that the right to protest is part of a long tradition of defending liberty, even when the means or voices differ. Some call it excessive, others see it as essential. Yet if a portion of society takes issue with a particular expression of freedom, that reaction itself proves that liberty remains meaningful and contested rather than passive.
So, what about Poland? Is there the resolve to preserve independence, or will the country drift if people assume everything will unfold on its own?
Note: this reflection is attributed to public commentary on ongoing policy debates and civic action.