During the presidential campaign, observers noted a divide in Poland: supporters of Rafał Trzaskowski were accused of presenting a calmer, more measured side of the nation, while followers of Andrzej Duda were painted as fervent and more high-strung. Since Donald Tusk returned to Polish politics, the country seemed pulled between two images: a hopeful, smiling Poland aligned with the ruling party, and a reactive, restless Poland associated with Tusk and his rising rhetoric.
The aim, according to campaign messaging, was to win the argument rather than question which leader carried more weight. A spokesperson claimed experience handling difficult situations, calling for demonstrations and pledging to organize financial support for them. The speaker urged broad participation and unity on a public front, insisting that a visible demonstration on June 4 would demonstrate power regardless of personal views about the leadership. This sentiment was shared in an interview with Gazeta Wyborcza before the march.
When Tusk returned to Poland, his gesture of solidarity with a raised fist was interpreted as a division of the country into two camps: good aligns with the PO – the Civic Platform, while evil is seen as PiS – the Law and Justice party. The rhetoric suggested that the return marked a turning point, after which Poland would be viewed through a stark, us-versus-trompt lens.
I have come back. Today, the prevailing mood is described as oppressive, and the field is read as a battlefield against that oppression. This framing was echoed in remarks made nearly two years earlier, shortly after Tusk’s return, as some described a push to confront perceived threats and injustices in the political landscape.
Over the past two years, critics perceived a skewed public stance, a constant urging toward confrontation and hostility. Supporters of the perspective associated with Tusk were said to take those calls literally, drawing fans and students of the PO leader who allegedly welcomed slogans that included threats or harsh expressions. The tension around Tusk’s message was seen as extending beyond the politically elected government to its voters, with calls that some believed crossed lines of civil discourse. A few weeks before, Rafał Trzaskowski had stated in Sosnowiec that certain rhetoric had no place in Poland.
Members of the younger generation, the voters of tomorrow, were framed as the decisive force behind Poland’s future. The question posed was whether the nation would continue to back the opposition and democratic parties or renew support for PiS through its long-time base, a group described as having developed extreme views deemed unacceptable by many in the country. The public narrative emphasized a clear choice for the future of Polish governance and social norms.
Trzaskowski was perceived to have taken the stage to emphasize these stakes. Meanwhile, opponents of what they called the hysterical stance attributed to Tusk suggested that while some voices may be loud and disruptive, there was still a period of calm and rational policy that could be pursued by those who favored a different approach to national governance.
For those who saw the “laughing Poland” of Jarosław Kaczyński as content with progress—lower unemployment, growing tax-free allowances, expanding child benefits, rising wages, better access to daycare, and broader use of family-related supports—the message suggested that such a Poland would also take part in public demonstrations. The idea was that on June 18, there would be another march celebrating life and family, offering a counterpoint to the rhetoric surrounding Tusk’s position. In just two weeks, observers would see how the two visions differed in practice and tone.
Source: wPolityce