Poland’s Vote Wasn’t Left vs Right—It Was Elites vs Nation

In much of Europe, this is becoming the norm. It's not Left vs Right. It is now the elites versus the people, and may the elites continue to lose!

From The European Conservative

By Artur Ciechanowicz

Liberal politicians and media underestimated the public mood—and lost to a candidate they ridiculed.

Karol Nawrocki’s election as president of Poland marks more than a political shift—it is a cultural revolt. It reflects the rising frustration of ordinary Poles with a liberal establishment increasingly perceived as aloof, elitist, and contemptuous of its own people. What unfolded at the ballot box was not just a clash of candidates, but a broader rebellion against the status quo.

Nawrocki, the conservative candidate backed by the Law and Justice party (PiS), won the second round of Poland’s presidential election by just 369,591 votes—a margin of 1.78 percentage points. He defeated liberal Warsaw mayor Rafał Trzaskowski in the tightest runoff since 1989. Turnout reached a historic high of 73.8%, underlining the depth of public engagement and the polarisation driving the race.

Liberal and left-leaning intellectuals and celebrities frequently mocked Nawrocki supporters as “ignorant” or “fascist,” reinforcing a narrative of cultural elitism. As novelist Szczepan Twardoch (himself a Nawrocki critic) observed: “How many votes were gained by calling voters ‘idiots’ and ‘backwards’?” This cultural divide has deep roots. As Marcin Kwaśniewski of the Obserwator Gospodarczy noted: “The liberal elite want to rule a country they’re ashamed of, and over people they despise… But democracy occasionally punches them in the face and upsets the sacred hierarchy.”

The ideological division in Poland has evolved from Cold War-era patriotism versus post-communist liberalism into a broader tension between rooted national identity and cosmopolitan, yet provincial, disdain for it. The populist right has capitalised on this, presenting itself as the authentic voice of ordinary Poles.

This disconnect between elite messaging and actual voter behaviour was especially clear among the young. Contrary to expectations, Nawrocki performed surprisingly well among young voters. As conservative commentator Rafał Otoka-Frąckiewicz wrote: “Young people don’t have the baggage of betrayal that older generations carry. If a politician doesn’t deliver, they simply switch brands. The old parties don’t understand this.”

But how did Nawrocki win—and what does this tell us about the evolving political identity of Poland?

A confluence of social mood, political strategy, and personal narrative helped Nawrocki secure his victory.

Nawrocki’s candidacy was well-tailored to the shifting psychological and economic landscape of post-pandemic, post-Ukraine-aid Poland. Many Polish voters have grown weary of economic stagnation, EU regulatory pressure, and the costs—economic, political, and emotional—of supporting Ukraine in its war with Russia. While PiS lost power in the 2023 parliamentary elections, it retained significant grassroots support. However, voters had tired of the party’s establishment faces and internal conflicts.

Nawrocki, a historian and former director of the Institute of National Remembrance (IPN), was not a typical PiS loyalist. He lacked the party’s trademark ideological rigidity and instead projected a more independent, pragmatic persona. Notably, he had previously distanced himself from several controversial PiS decisions—such as its handling of the COVID-19 pandemic—earning him credibility with anti-establishment voters, particularly those aligned with the Right-wing Confederation and Grzegorz Braun’s parties, who ultimately endorsed Nawrocki.

Paradoxically, Nawrocki’s ambiguous and at times troubled personal history—youthful involvement in hooliganism, before reinventing himself as a family man, academic, and civil servant—proved politically advantageous. His rise “from the slums to the books” stood in stark contrast to Trzaskowski’s polished, cosmopolitan persona.

Throughout the campaign, Nawrocki endured relentless attacks from liberal and government-aligned media but maintained a calm and composed demeanour during debates. Trzaskowski, on the other hand, appeared increasingly irritable, avoiding right-wing media debates and struggling to control his emotions in public appearances. This disparity in tone hurt Trzaskowski’s appeal among moderate voters.

The defeat of Trzaskowski cannot be separated from the unpopularity of Prime Minister Donald Tusk, leader of the ruling Civic Coalition. According to May 2025 polls, only 32% of respondents viewed Tusk’s government positively, while 44% viewed it negatively. A full 53% said they were unhappy with Tusk as prime minister. This dragged down Trzaskowski’s campaign, which failed to offer a compelling alternative or vision beyond being “not Nawrocki.”

The government-led smear campaign against Nawrocki has backfired. “Karol Nawrocki would have to be a cartoon villain of genius proportions to have committed all the things he’s accused of,” quipped sociologist, Professor Henryk Domański. Instead of focusing on a positive message, Trzaskowski’s campaign leaned heavily on fear and contempt, alienating undecided voters.

This generational shift is part of a deeper realignment underway in Polish politics. Indeed, according to political scientist Dr Bartłomiej Biskup, both Civic Platform (PO) and PiS are ageing parties. Younger voters are increasingly drawn to anti-establishment movements like the right-wing Confederation or the left-wing Razem. In this election, many younger voters supported a candidate not because they were inspired, but to vote against the other.

While this election has reinforced Poland’s polarisation, it also revealed growing tensions within the Right. PiS now finds itself squeezed between centrist nationalism and radical libertarianism. Confederation and Braun’s movement advocate for deeper Catholic traditionalism and stronger economic libertarianism—pressuring PiS from the right.

Following Trzaskowski’s loss, rumours have swirled that Tusk may resort to legal and administrative measures against his enemies—targeting Confederation figures and even Nawrocki’s wife, who does not enjoy any formal immunity. At the same time, his political standing in Europe is weakening. Sources suggest that senior Polish MEPs from his European People’s Party (EPP) faction are pressuring Manfred Weber to consider replacing Tusk if the EPP wants to retain influence in Poland.

Tusk has announced that he will seek a vote of confidence in parliament to reaffirm his government’s legitimacy: “I want everyone—our supporters and our opponents, at home and abroad—to see that we are ready for this moment and will not retreat an inch,” Tusk declared. But few doubt that early elections would be catastrophic for his coalition.

So what will Nawrocki’s presidency be like? This remains the great unknown. Nawrocki’s ideological compass is clear—he opposes abortion, supports traditional marriage, and is committed to preserving Christian and national values. During the campaign, he invoked the legacy of Pope John Paul II and prioritised historical commemoration through institutions such as the Museum of the Second World War and IPN.

But as a politician, Nawrocki is still largely untested. His administrative and diplomatic skills are unproven. He may struggle to navigate the complexities of foreign policy, especially within the EU. However, he enjoys support from allies in the U.S.—especially in Donald Trump’s circle, which openly backed his candidacy.

Karol Nawrocki enters the presidency as a wildcard, but one with a strong electoral mandate. For the first time since 2015, a newly elected conservative president will face off against a liberal government—setting the stage for two years of institutional conflict, legislative vetoes, and proxy wars in the media.

But Nawrocki’s rise also marks something deeper: the transformation of Polish politics into a generational, cultural, and civilisational contest. The results of the 2025 election are not just a reflection of partisan shifts—they offer a portrait of a society reckoning with itself, caught between the desire for stability and the need for reinvention.

The next chapter of Polish democracy will be anything but quiet.