In most European capitals, debates about defense spending have become urgent but predictable. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and Donald Trump’s unclear intensions toward EU forced governments to reconsider military readiness, industrial capacity and funding models. In Poland, however, a financial instrument designed to accelerate rearmament has sparked a far more explosive political confrontation.
At the center of the dispute lie SAFE – an EU-backed defense financing program – and an escalating conflict between the government of Prime Minister Donald Tusk and President Karol Nawrocki. What began as a technical question about how to finance weapons purchases has turned into something much larger: a test of Poland’s constitutional balance of power, its relationship with the European Union, and the political direction of its conservative opposition.
The argument has unfolded rapidly over the past weeks. Yet its roots lie deeper – in Poland’s security anxieties, its fiscal constraints and a political system where the president and government come from opposing camps.
The advantages of borrowing through SAFE
SAFE – short for the Security Assistance Financing for Europe mechanism – is part of a broader EU strategy to strengthen Europe’s defense capabilities in response to Russia’s war in Ukraine. It is closely tied to the EU’s wider “ReArm Europe” initiative, which seeks to mobilize large-scale financing for military investment across the bloc.
The logic of the program is straightforward. The European Union raises funds on international markets using its collective credit rating – which is stronger than that of many individual member states – and then lends that money to governments for defense spending. In practical terms, it is similar to a household obtaining a cheaper loan by applying together with a wealthier guarantor.
For Poland, the financial stakes are enormous. Under the program Warsaw could borrow up to 43.7 billion euros, almost a third of the total SAFE envelope, making it the largest beneficiary by far. The funds would finance a range of military investments, from weapons purchases to industrial expansion. Among the proposed projects were anti-drone systems along Poland’s eastern border and new contracts for domestic defense manufacturers.
For the Tusk government, SAFE represents an attractive solution to a pressing fiscal dilemma. Poland is already one of NATO’s biggest defense spenders relative to GDP, yet its modernization program is far from complete. Economists estimate that the armed forces may require around 800 billion złoty (186bn euros) over the next decade to reach full capability.
In this context, borrowing through SAFE offers two advantages. First, the interest rates are significantly lower than those Poland would obtain by issuing its own sovereign debt, because the loans are backed by the EU’s AAA credit rating. Second, repayment terms are unusually generous: the loans stretch over 45 years, with a decade-long grace period before capital repayments begin. For supporters of the program, the economic case therefore seems obvious. The money is cheaper, the repayment horizon longer and the funds available quickly – precisely the combination needed for a rapid military build-up.
Yet in Poland, consensus around this apparently pragmatic solution proved short-lived.
President Nawrocki transformed a financial tool into a political symbol
Ironically, the SAFE program initially attracted little opposition from Poland’s conservative camp. Some politicians from the former ruling Law and Justice party (PiS), including former defense minister Mariusz Błaszczak, had previously described the initiative as an opportunity for the development of Poland’s armed forces. That changed rapidly in early 2026 as the domestic political battle intensified.
The shift coincided with the presidency of Karol Nawrocki, a nationalist historian backed by PiS. Since taking office he has frequently clashed with the Tusk government, vetoing several pieces of legislation. SAFE quickly became the most consequential confrontation yet.
On March 12th the president announced he would veto the law implementing the program in Poland. His reasoning centered on sovereignty. According to Nawrocki, the EU loan mechanism could give Brussels leverage over Poland’s defense policy. If the European Commission were to suspend funding, he argued, Poland might still be obliged to repay the debt while losing control over its military spending decisions. “Security conditional on external decisions is not security,” he said when explaining his decision.
For the government and many defense experts, this argument was misleading. Officials stressed that SAFE loans contain no political “conditionality” similar to the controversial rule-of-law mechanism attached to EU recovery funds. Instead, the Commission merely verifies that the money is spent on agreed defense projects.
Nevertheless, the president’s veto instantly transformed a financial tool into a political symbol.
The political narrative around SAFE resembles the early stages of Britain’s Brexit
The institutional stakes are unusually high. Poland’s semi-presidential system allows the president to veto legislation passed by parliament, forcing the government either to gather a supermajority to override the veto or find alternative legal routes. In this case, the Tusk government chose the latter option.
Within days of the veto the cabinet adopted a resolution authorizing ministers to sign the SAFE loan agreements directly with the European Commission.
The move triggered an immediate backlash from the president’s office, which accused the government of circumventing constitutional procedures. Presidential advisers described the decision as an illegal attempt to bypass the veto.
Yet Brussels signaled that it intends to proceed regardless. The European Commission confirmed that it is preparing the loan agreement and expects to disburse an advance payment – around 6 billion euros – as early as April.
For the government, the message is clear: SAFE will go ahead, with or without presidential cooperation.
Donald Tusk has responded with characteristic bluntness. In interviews and parliamentary speeches he accused the president and the opposition of launching an anti-European campaign designed to sabotage the government. The prime minister argues that the SAFE mechanism was partly shaped by Polish diplomacy in Brussels and that blocking it undermines Poland’s credibility with its allies.
More controversially, he suggested that the dispute reflects a broader ideological shift within the conservative camp. “This veto is a key stage in a major political turn,” Tusk said, arguing that parts of the Polish right are moving towards openly anti-European rhetoric.
Foreign minister, Radosław Sikorski, has gone even further, warning that the political narrative surrounding SAFE resembles the early stages of Britain’s Brexit debate. In Brussels he cautioned that persistent claims portraying the EU as a greater threat than Russia could eventually convince voters that leaving the union is desirable. Such rhetoric is intended both to mobilise pro-European voters and to frame the dispute as a fundamental choice about Poland’s geopolitical orientation.
The opposition’s argument: sovereignty and strategic autonomy
From the perspective of Nawrocki and the conservative opposition, however, the issue looks very different. Their central claim is that relying on EU-backed loans for defense spending could entangle Poland in political dependencies. Put bluntly, Nawrocki and Kaczyński fear that if they were to regain power in 2027, the European Commission could suspend the financing or use the SAFE funds as leverage. In that scenario, the calculation would be simple: if Poland wants access to the money, it must operate within the framework of EU law – for instance on matters such as the rule of law. That, needless to say, would hardly suit the Polish right.
For some critics the program also raises broader strategic questions about Europe’s defense industry. Should Poland prioritize weapons purchases within the EU, or continue its close military partnership with the United States? Some conservative figures worry that European defense integration could gradually reduce transatlantic cooperation or steer procurement toward French and German manufacturers.
Others frame the debate in more ideological terms. In right-wing media SAFE has been portrayed as a “German project” designed to subordinate Polish policy to Berlin – an argument that resonates with long-standing suspicions among nationalist voters. This narrative has proven politically potent even if it oversimplifies the program’s financial mechanics.
Karol Nawrocki’s alternative: “SAFE at zero per cent”
To counter accusations that he is undermining military investment, the president has proposed an alternative financing plan. His idea, developed with Poland’s central bank governor Adam Glapiński (appointed by former president Andrzej Duda), is to fund defense spending using profits generated by the National Bank of Poland (NBP) from its gold reserves. The bank accumulated large quantities of gold over the past decade (its reserves amounted to 550-570 tons of gold at the end of 2025), benefiting from rising global prices (at the same time, NBP recorded losses of more than 50 billion złoty between 2022 and 2024, due in part to high interest rates). If part of those reserves were sold, the argument goes, the government could obtain billions without taking on new EU-denominated debt. Supporters describe the proposal as “SAFE at zero per cent” – a domestic alternative to European borrowing.
Many economists are skeptical. Critics note that central bank profits are volatile and cannot reliably finance long-term military programs. Others argue that liquidating gold reserves could undermine financial stability or require costly monetary interventions to prevent inflation. Government officials have dismissed the proposal as a political gesture rather than a workable financing plan. One spokesman described it bluntly as a program worth “zero złoty”.
Defense experts: a dangerous delay
Within Poland’s defense community, frustration is palpable. Military analysts argue that the country’s security environment leaves little room for political delay. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has dramatically altered threat perceptions along NATO’s eastern flank, and Poland has responded with one of the most ambitious rearmament programs in Europe.
According to retired air force general Tomasz Drewniak, the SAFE dispute represents a purely political conflict detached from military realities. Rejecting cheaper financing for urgently needed weapons purchases, he says, “looks like a decision taken against basic financial logic and against the interests of the armed forces.” For defense planners, the central problem is time. Weapons procurement cycles are measured in years, and funding gaps can slow or cancel projects entirely.
Even supporters of Nawrocki’s broader concerns about sovereignty concede that Poland must secure hundreds of billions of złoty for military modernization regardless of the political argument over SAFE.
The program’s implications extend well beyond military budgets. A substantial share of SAFE funding was expected to flow into Poland’s defense industry, which has grown rapidly since the start of the war in Ukraine. Government estimates suggested that as much as 90% of the spending could benefit domestic companies, from state-owned arms manufacturers to private suppliers.
Regional politicians have already begun warning about potential economic consequences if the program is delayed or scaled back. Some industrial regions were expecting large defense contracts tied directly to SAFE financing.
For them the debate is not abstract geopolitics but jobs, investment and long-term industrial strategy.
Public opinion: divided but skeptical
Despite the ferocity of the political argument, the Polish public appears relatively skeptical of the president’s decision. According to an IBRIS poll conducted for Polsat News, 57% of respondents evaluated the veto negatively, while roughly one-third supported it. The divide reflects Poland’s broader political polarization. Voters aligned with the governing coalition overwhelmingly oppose the veto, while supporters of PiS and nationalist parties are more sympathetic. At the same time, surveys show that a majority of Poles believe cooperation between the president and the government the two institutions is poor, reflecting the tensions inherent in Poland’s divided executive system.
In other words, the SAFE dispute has reinforced the country’s political stalemate.
The European perspective and future conflicts
Outside Poland, the controversy has been met largely with confusion. From Brussels’ perspective SAFE is simply a financial tool designed to accelerate defense spending across Europe. Commission officials have emphasized that Poland remains the program’s largest beneficiary and that implementation should proceed without delay. The broader European context also matters. As the United States pushes European allies to assume greater responsibility for their own defense, EU-level financing mechanisms have become politically attractive.
In this sense, the SAFE program represents a step toward deeper European defense integration – one that many governments now see as unavoidable.
Poland’s internal dispute therefore appears, to foreign observers, less like a strategic disagreement than a domestic political battle spilling into European policy.
Ultimately the SAFE dispute reveals something deeper about Polish politics.
For the governing coalition, the program symbolizes pragmatic European cooperation: borrowing cheaply, strengthening the army and boosting domestic industry. For the nationalist opposition, it represents another example of Brussels expanding its influence into sensitive areas of national sovereignty. Both narratives contain elements of truth, but neither fully captures the complexity of Europe’s evolving security architecture.
What makes the conflict especially volatile is its timing. Poland faces rising security pressures, massive defense spending needs and a highly polarized political landscape. In such conditions even technical financial decisions can trigger constitutional confrontations. The SAFE controversy therefore offers a preview of the debates likely to shape Polish politics in the next years: how much sovereignty to share within the European Union, how to finance security in an era of geopolitical tension, and how to manage a political system where rival centers of power coexist uneasily. For now, the government insists that the program will move forward despite the presidential veto.
Whether that assertion proves correct – or merely deepens Poland’s institutional conflict – will determine not only the fate of SAFE, but the future balance of power within the country’s fragile political architecture.
