Democracy is a competitive ecosystem in which the government can lose.
From Washington, former Polish Foreign Minister Radek Sikorski surveys a paradox that history has made painfully visible: Poland was right about Russia long before the rest of Europe was willing to listen, yet the very government that presided over that vindication has squandered the influence such foresight should have earned. By waging a prolonged war against judicial independence and Brussels alike, the Law and Justice party has frozen billions in EU funds and diminished Poland's voice precisely when its geography — bordering both Russia and Ukraine — makes it indispensable. The story of Poland in this moment is the story of a nation whose moral authority and political credibility have been pulled in opposite directions, leaving its future contingent on whether democratic institutions can be restored before the window closes.
- Poland was vindicated on Russia, but the PiS government's assault on judicial independence triggered a €34 billion EU funding freeze, turning a moment of strategic triumph into one of diplomatic isolation.
- Brussels has few real tools to reverse democratic backsliding once a country is inside the EU, leaving Poland and Hungary as uncomfortable proof that membership does not guarantee the rule of law.
- A compromise judicial reform bill has drawn cautious praise from European commissioners, but legal experts warn it barely touches the most deeply captured institutions — the Constitutional Tribunal and the National Council of the Judiciary.
- The ruling party is already tilting the electoral playing field: restricting overseas voting, weaponizing state media, and making the 2023 elections a test of whether a competitive democratic ecosystem can survive its own erosion.
- Opposition parties are in intensive talks about unified candidates, but the cautionary examples of Israel and Hungary hang over the effort — unity is necessary, yet nowhere near sufficient.
Radek Sikorski speaks from Washington with the particular frustration of a man who was right too early. For decades he warned Europe about Russia; when Putin invaded Ukraine, the warning was vindicated. Poland, he argues, should now be shaping Europe's eastern policy — it is, after all, the only EU member that borders both Russia and Ukraine. Instead, the country's influence has been hollowed out by its own government.
The Law and Justice party, in power since 2015, dismantled judicial independence and ignored European Commission rulings, triggering a freeze of more than €34 billion in post-pandemic recovery funds. The money sits idle, a financial hostage to a political standoff that Sikorski believes Poland cannot afford. "We were right about Nord Stream and we were right about Putin," he said, "but because of this conflict with the EU, we don't have the influence we deserve."
Sikorski's own biography traces Poland's westward arc. He fled martial law in 1981, studied at Oxford alongside Boris Johnson and David Cameron, and returned after communism's collapse to build a political career. As foreign minister under Donald Tusk, he became one of Europe's sharpest critics of Russian intentions — and of German complacency. His 2011 remark that he feared German inactivity more than German power has only grown more resonant as Berlin has hesitated over military aid to Ukraine, though Sikorski is careful to note that Germany has in fact contributed more than any other European country.
A judicial reform bill is moving through parliament, and the EU's justice commissioner has called it a promising step. But experts are skeptical: the bill leaves untouched the Constitutional Tribunal and the National Council of the Judiciary, the institutions most thoroughly captured by the ruling party. Sikorski is blunt — packed courts are incompatible with EU membership — yet the uncomfortable reality is that Poland and Hungary have demonstrated otherwise.
His real wager is on the 2023 elections. Opposition parties, including his own Civic Platform, are negotiating joint candidates and a unified platform that would reverse the abortion ban, restore judicial independence, and end what he calls Poland's "ridiculous conflict" with European institutions. The ruling party is already making the contest harder — restricting overseas voting, knowing that expatriates broke heavily against them in 2019, and deploying state media Sikorski likens to "the BBC taken over by Breitbart." The examples of Israel and Hungary offer sobering precedents for opposition unity. But Sikorski believes that if Poland can turn the page, Warsaw might finally claim the place in European affairs that its history and geography have long demanded.
Radek Sikorski sits in Washington, a man caught between vindication and frustration. The former Polish foreign minister has spent decades warning Europe about Russia. When Vladimir Putin invaded Ukraine, his warnings proved prescient. The eastern members of the EU, Poland chief among them, had been right all along about the threat from Moscow. Yet Poland, Sikorski argues, has squandered the chance to translate that rightness into real influence over Europe's future direction.
The problem is not Poland's judgment but its government. The Law and Justice party, which has ruled since 2015, picked a fight with Brussels over how it runs its courts. The party packed the judiciary with loyalists, dismantled judicial independence, and ignored European Commission rulings. In response, the EU froze more than 34 billion euros in grants and loans meant for Poland's post-pandemic recovery. The money sits in limbo, a financial hostage to a political standoff. "We were right to have protested against the Nord Stream pipelines, and we were right to have warned western Europeans against Putin," Sikorski said. "But because of this conflict with the EU, we don't have the influence on Europe's eastern policy that we deserve, as the only country that is the neighbour of both Russia and Ukraine."
Sikorski himself embodies Poland's westward journey. He grew up under communism and fled to Britain in 1981 when martial law was declared, studying at Oxford alongside Boris Johnson and David Cameron. He returned to Poland in 1989 as the Soviet system collapsed, married American journalist Anne Applebaum, and entered politics. By 2007, he was foreign minister under Donald Tusk, a position from which he became one of Europe's most vocal skeptics of Russian intentions and German complacency. In a 2011 speech, he said he feared German inactivity more than German power—a line that has only grown more relevant as Berlin hesitates over military aid to Ukraine.
On Germany, Sikorski is more measured than his fellow Poles. While the ruling party accuses Berlin of trying to create a "Fourth Reich," Sikorski acknowledges that Germany has actually provided more military and financial assistance to Ukraine than any other European country. The hesitation, he believes, stems from domestic politics. "The government is torn between wanting to do the right thing, and not losing more votes," he explained, citing conversations with German officials. The controversy cuts across German society in ways it does not in Poland or Britain, where support for Ukraine runs deeper.
The judicial crisis may be approaching resolution. Parliament is considering a bill that would limit government control over the courts. Didier Reynders, the European commissioner for justice, called it "a promising step forward." But experts are skeptical. Jakub Jaraczewski of Democracy Reporting International noted that the bill addresses only a small slice of Poland's rule-of-law problems. It does nothing about the Constitutional Tribunal or the National Council of the Judiciary, the bodies most thoroughly captured by the ruling party. "You can't be in the EU with packed courts by the ruling party," Sikorski insisted, yet the uncomfortable truth is that Poland and Hungary have done exactly that. Once a country joins the EU, Brussels has few tools to force democratic backsliding into reverse.
Sikorski's real hope lies in electoral defeat. General elections are scheduled for 2023, and he believes the opposition can win if it unites. The ruling party is already taking precautions—making it harder for Poles abroad to vote, knowing that 70 percent of expatriates voted for the opposition presidential candidate in 2019. State media, which Sikorski describes as "the BBC taken over by Breitbart," systematically discredits opposition parties. "Democracy is not just honest counting of the votes on the day," he said. "Democracy is a competitive ecosystem in which the government can lose."
Opposition parties, including his own Civic Platform, are in "intensive dialogue" about joint candidates and a unified campaign. If they succeed, the changes would be sweeping: reversing the near-total abortion ban in favor of legal termination up to 12 weeks, restoring judicial independence, and ending what Sikorski calls Poland's "ridiculous conflict with European institutions." The precedent is mixed. In Israel, an opposition coalition ousted Benjamin Netanyahu in 2021, only to collapse within a year; Netanyahu won the next election. In Hungary, Viktor Orban's party crushed a united opposition just months before Sikorski spoke. But Sikorski remains confident. If Poland's opposition can defeat the ruling party and restore the rule of law, Warsaw might finally claim the influence in European affairs that its geography and history demand.
Notable Quotes
We were right to have protested against the Nord Stream pipelines, and we were right to have warned western Europeans against Putin. But because of this conflict with the EU, we don't have the influence on Europe's eastern policy that we deserve.— Radek Sikorski, former Polish foreign minister
The government is torn between wanting to do the right thing, and not losing more votes.— Sikorski, describing Germany's internal conflict over Ukraine aid
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
You say Poland was right about Russia all along. Why hasn't that vindication translated into power?
Because the government that was right about Russia has been wrong about everything else—about courts, about democracy, about how to be a member of the EU. You can't be a voice people listen to on foreign policy if they don't trust you at home.
But Germany has given Ukraine more aid than anyone. Doesn't that undercut your criticism of German inactivity?
Germany is doing the right thing despite itself, not because of itself. They're torn. In Poland, supporting Ukraine is not controversial. In Germany, it costs votes. That's the difference between a country that learned from history and one that's still negotiating with it.
The EU is freezing 34 billion euros. That's enormous leverage. Why isn't it working?
Because the ruling party doesn't believe the EU will actually keep the money frozen forever. They think they can wait it out, negotiate a compromise that looks good but changes nothing real. And they might be right.
What happens if the opposition wins the election?
Everything changes. Abortion law, courts, Poland's relationship with Europe. We stop fighting Russia and Germany at the same time and actually become what we should be—a bridge between East and West.
And if they lose?
Then Poland stays isolated, Europe's eastern flank weakened, and illiberalism wins another round. The precedent from Hungary and Israel is not encouraging.
You studied at Oxford with Johnson and Cameron. Do you think Britain understands what's at stake in Poland?
Britain understands Ukraine. But Poland's internal struggle—whether democracy survives here—that's less visible from London. It should matter more than it does.