By the slimmest of margins, Poland’s 2025 presidential election has moved into its second act. In the first round of voting, held last Sunday, the liberal Rafał Trzaskowski, mayor of Warsaw and candidate of the pro-European Civic Coalition (KO), finished narrowly ahead of Karol Nawrocki, a conservative historian with the backing of the Law and Justice party (PiS). Trzaskowski secured 31.36 percent of the vote to Nawrocki’s 29.54. They will face off in a runoff on June 1.
But what should have been a moment of cautious optimism for Poland’s embattled centrists has instead exposed something far more telling: the emergence of a radical right that no longer exists at the margins. It is organized, visible, and, increasingly, normalized.
Extremists Becoming Palatable and Nawrocki's Resilience Amid Controversy
Candidates affiliated with the far-right Konfederacja party – once dismissed as provocateurs – garnered more than 21 percent of the vote. Five years ago, the party’s presidential candidate, Krzysztof Bosak, received just under 7 percent. This time, the libertarian nationalist Sławomir Mentzen took 14.8 percent. His ex-fellow party member Grzegorz Braun, notorious for xenophobic and pro-Kremlin rhetoric, received 6.34 percent – more than a million votes. Braun has called for criminalizing abortion, vandalized a museum exhibit on LGBT rights, and used anti-Semitic slogans during the anniversary of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising this April. That his platform drew broad support – not from the uneducated fringes but largely from men aged 30 to 50 with at least some higher education – indicates that Polish nationalism is no longer an insurgent current. It is a tide.
The immediate question is whether Trzaskowski’s delicate balancing act has backfired. Once a symbol of modern, urban, progressive Poland, the Warsaw mayor recalibrated his rhetoric in response to a post-pandemic, war-weary national mood. Gone were his full-throated endorsements of LGBT rights or migrant inclusion. In their place: a focus on law and order, a skeptical tone toward aid for Ukraine, and signals that the generous 800+ zloty monthly child benefit might need trimming. The idea was to lure disillusioned right-wing voters without alienating moderates.
Yet political commentators now argue that this rhetorical shift may have achieved the opposite. In mimicking the language of the far right – however strategically – Trzaskowski may have lent it legitimacy. “He made nationalism sound mainstream,” one columnist observed. “And when nationalism becomes mainstream, its extremists become palatable.”
Indeed, it was not Trzaskowski but Braun who captured the rebellious, angry mood of a country sliding toward illiberalism. For many voters, Trzaskowski’s pivot felt neither authentic nor credible. For others, it signaled weakness.
There’s a cautionary tale in that. “This should be a lesson,” sociologist Andrzej Rychard warned. “Trzaskowski needs to stop listening to strategists chasing the Konfederacja vote and return to who he is. Authenticity wins elections – not imitation.”
Nawrocki, by contrast, has stayed true to type. His message – traditional values, national strength, resistance to Brussels – has remained consistent. Even a minor scandal, involving his acquisition of a second apartment from an elderly man in pre-trial detention, failed to dent his support. The controversy raised ethical questions, but Nawrocki's base remained largely unaffected, “Some people think it was wrong,” Rychard said. “But others saw it as clever. A sign of grit. In Polish politics, that matters.”
Youthful Discontent and the YouTube Challenge
Beneath the surface, another dynamic is reshaping the political landscape: the generational split. Voters under thirty have grown up knowing only two parties – PiS and KO – and increasingly reject both. The youth vote split sharply in the first round between Mentzen and the left-wing Adrian Zandberg. Mentzen won 36.1 percent of voters aged 18–29; Zandberg followed with 19.7. Trzaskowski and Nawrocki barely registered.
Their reasons differ, but the sentiment is consistent: disillusionment, impatience, and a craving for radical alternatives. “We’re tired of the same old PiS vs. PO fight,” one student said, referring to the old Civic Platform, KO’s predecessor. “Neither of them speaks our language anymore.” Another voter put it more bluntly: “We want something new – even if it’s worse.”
That apathy, or nihilism, could tip the election. Trzaskowski’s remaining hope lies in consolidating the support of voters who backed eliminated center and left candidates – Magdalena Biejat, Hołownia, Zandberg, and Joanna Senyszyn – amounting to a potential 16 percent of the electorate. But that bloc is fractured, and turnout remains an open question.
Mentzen, the kingmaker of the moment, has refused to endorse either finalist. Instead, he invited both candidates to appear on his YouTube channel to sign a declaration addressing his supporters’ demands. “You can’t transfer votes like money,” he said. “But you can help voters make up their minds.”
For Trzaskowski, the invitation poses a political risk. Participation could signal desperation – and play into Mentzen’s hands. “He’d be walking into a lion’s den,” one commentator said. “Mentzen won’t endorse him. He may even humiliate him.”
Strategies for the Runoff
As the June 1 runoff approaches, a familiar question emerges: could Poland still follow what observers have dubbed the “Romanian scenario”? In Romania’s presidential election, the pro-European candidate won the election despite trailing after the first round. His victory was credited to a last-minute wave of civic mobilization.
In theory, such a surge is still possible in Poland. In practice, the road is narrow. Nawrocki has begun borrowing Braun’s language more overtly. At a rally in Warsaw, he echoed anti-Ukrainian, anti-EU themes, betting that the nationalist right can be united under one banner. Trzaskowski, meanwhile, is attempting a complex synthesis: defending European liberalism while signaling pragmatism on issues like migration and welfare.
His advisers envision a message that transcends Poland’s stale political binary. He will promise to liberalize abortion laws and protect democratic institutions while aligning with the tough-on-migration posture associated with both PiS and former Prime Minister Donald Tusk. The strategy: offer enough ideological ambiguity to appear inclusive, without alienating either end of the center.
But ambiguity is a fragile foundation in a polarized environment. Much may hinge on the candidates’ head-to-head debate, scheduled for May 23. For Trzaskowski, it may be the last best chance to reintroduce himself to a divided electorate – and remind voters not only who he is, but who Poland could become.
Whether that vision still resonates in a country drifting rightward remains to be seen.
