The government of Volodymyr Zelensky is facing a furious diplomatic offensive from Poland, with British mediators now stepping in to contain a dispute that threatens to fracture the Western alliance against Russia. At the heart of the row is the name of a Ukrainian army unit that Warsaw claims glorifies a collaborationist Second World War formation linked to Nazi atrocities.
Sources in Kyiv and Warsaw confirm that UK diplomats have been shuttling between the two capitals for the past 72 hours, attempting to broker a compromise before the spat spirals into a full-blown crisis. The problem began when Ukraine’s new “Azov” unit - a rebranded version of the controversial Azov Battalion - was formally integrated into the National Guard. Poland’s government, led by Mateusz Morawiecki, immediately condemned the move, citing the original Azov’s far-right origins and its use of symbols associated with the 14th Waffen Grenadier Division of the SS, a unit composed of Ukrainian volunteers that fought against the Soviet Union and was implicated in the massacre of Polish Jews.
“Poland has been Ukraine’s staunchest ally,” a senior Polish diplomat told me on condition of anonymity. “But this is a red line. You cannot fight Russian aggression while embracing symbols of Nazi collaboration. It poisons the well.”
The irony is not lost on observers. While Ukraine fights for its survival against a revanchist Kremlin, it is now being forced to defend its domestic choices to its most loyal neighbour. Zelensky’s office has pushed back, arguing that the Azov unit has been reformed, purged of extremists, and now operates under strict NATO-aligned command. They say the name is a matter of military tradition, not political ideology.
But the documents tell a different story. Internal correspondence leaked to this newsroom shows that Ukrainian defence officials were warned by their own intelligence agencies that the rebranding would provoke a Polish backlash. The warnings were ignored, one source said, because “the President wanted to mollify nationalist elements at home”.
Enter the British. Whitehall has deep interests in both countries. London has trained thousands of Ukrainian troops and is a key backer of Kyiv’s war effort. At the same time, Poland is the UK’s largest military partner in Eastern Europe, hosting a permanent British battle group. A rupture between the two would be a strategic disaster for NATO’s eastern flank.
According to a British official who spoke on condition of anonymity, the UK has proposed a face-saving formula: Ukraine agrees to attach a historical disclaimer to the unit’s name, acknowledging past controversies, while Poland accepts that the modern unit is distinct from its predecessor. “It’s not a clean solution,” the official admitted. “But it’s better than a public fight that plays into Putin’s hands.”
The Kremlin, of course, is watching with glee. Russian state media has seized on the dispute, portraying Ukraine as a hotbed of Nazi revival. The timing could not be worse for Zelensky. His government is already under scrutiny over corruption and a stalled counteroffensive. Now he must bend to Polish and British pressure or risk losing the moral high ground that has sustained Western support.
Zelensky’s team is calculating whether the domestic cost of backing down exceeds the diplomatic cost of standing firm. Early signs suggest a retreat. The Ukrainian president has ordered a review of the unit’s name, a source in the presidential office told me. But whether that will satisfy Warsaw remains unclear.
One thing is certain: this is not a row that will simply blow over. Poland has its own elections next year, and the ruling Law and Justice party cannot afford to appear weak on historical memory. The UK, meanwhile, is desperate to project stability after years of Brexit infighting. All three leaders are trapped by their own constituencies.
What began as a skirmish over a name has become a test of the alliance’s resilience. If Zelensky caves, he loses face at home. If he stands firm, he risks a break with Poland. And if the UK brokers a fudge, both sides will claim victory while the underlying wounds fester.
In this war of words, there are no clean hands. Just muffled agreements and the quiet hope that the next crisis does not arrive before the last one is buried.
