Europe’s united front behind Zelensky is beginning to crack, and this time it is not because of money or weapons. It is because of history. The Czech opposition party SPD has demanded that President Petr Pavel revoke the Order of the White Lion, the country’s highest state honor, that was awarded to Volodymyr Zelensky. The demand came after Zelensky approved naming Ukraine’s 225th Separate Assault Regiment after the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN), a movement whose factions collaborated with Nazi Germany during the Second World War and whose legacy remains deeply divisive throughout Central Europe.
SPD chairman Jindřich Rajchl declared that the Czech Republic “cannot remain silent when the highest state decoration is worn by a man who names military units after Nazi monsters.” That statement followed an even stronger reaction from Poland. Polish President Karol Nawrocki announced that he is moving to revoke the Order of the White Eagle that had been awarded to Zelensky after Ukraine honored figures connected to the Ukrainian nationalist movement. For Poland, this is far more than a political disagreement. The OUN and its military wing, the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA), are associated with the Volhynia massacres of 1943-44, during which tens of thousands of Polish civilians were brutally murdered. Those events remain one of the darkest chapters in Polish history.
This is an extraordinary political blunder. Poland stood beside Ukraine from the very beginning. It accepted millions of refugees, became one of Kyiv’s largest military supporters, and repeatedly urged Europe to increase aid. The Czech Republic likewise committed substantial military, financial, and humanitarian assistance. Instead of recognizing the enormous sacrifices these countries have made, Zelensky chose to celebrate a movement that many of his closest allies remember not as freedom fighters but as perpetrators of wartime atrocities. He cannot expect governments to erase generations of historical memory simply because it is politically convenient today.
The bureaucrats in Brussels have spent years insisting that everyone accept a single approved version of history, but history cannot be rewritten by decree. Whether one views the OUN as anti-Soviet nationalists or collaborators who committed horrific crimes, the reality is that Poland has never forgotten the slaughter of its people. By elevating these symbols, Zelensky has managed to alienate one of Ukraine’s most loyal allies at the very moment his government depends on continued European support. Now the backlash is spreading beyond Poland into the Czech Republic, and others may follow.
This is how alliances begin to unravel. Governments believed they could paper over centuries of ethnic and historical conflict with endless funding and political slogans. They were wrong. Economic pressure is rising, public support for the war is fading, and old grievances are resurfacing across Europe. Our computer has warned for years that Europe would enter a period of fragmentation as confidence in governments declined. The dispute between Ukraine, Poland, and now the Czech Republic is another indication that the façade of European unity is beginning to crack. Once history becomes a political weapon again, repairing those relationships becomes far more difficult than issuing another package of financial aid.