In a move that has sent diplomatic circles into a frenzy of pearl-clutching and brandy-spluttering, Volodymyr Zelensky has returned a Polish honour after Warsaw decided to revoke the award. Because nothing says ‘we value our allies’ quite like snatching back a medal like a petulant toddler reclaiming a toy from the sandpit.
The Order of the White Eagle, a gaudy piece of silver shaped like a predatory bird, was awarded to the Ukrainian leader in what was clearly a moment of collective madness in the Polish parliament. Now, in a fit of geopolitical pique, they have reversed the decision, citing ‘unresolved issues’ over the Volyn massacre. Because nothing says ‘moving forward’ like dragging up a 80-year-old massacre to score points in a modern feud.
Zelensky, displaying the kind of grace that only a man who has fought off a Russian invasion can muster, has simply returned the trinket. “We do not need medals,” his office stated. “We need weapons and air defence.” A sentiment that will no doubt be lost on the Polish diplomats, who are now no doubt drafting strongly worded letters about ‘protocol’ and ‘decorum’ while polishing their own collection of shiny baubles.
The Volyn massacre, a dark chapter in which Polish civilians were killed by Ukrainian nationalists during World War II, has been a festering wound between the two nations. But to use it as a pretext to revoke a medal during a war, while Russia is literally trying to erase Ukraine from the map, is the kind of diplomatic masterstroke that would make a gibbon blush.
Meanwhile, the real drama is unfolding in the Polish media, where pundits are debating whether this constitutes a ‘diplomatic snub’ or a ‘monumental own goal’. The answer, dear readers, is both. It is a snub because you don’t give a man a medal and then take it back. It is an own goal because you have just alienated a country that is sacrificing its men and women to hold back a tide of Russian barbarism.
But let us not forget the silver lining. This row has provided a much-needed distraction from the fact that the European Union is still trying to figure out how to pay for its own energy crisis, and Britain is busy electing a prime minister who thinks ‘mini-budget’ is a type of snack. In the grand theatre of European politics, this is merely a curtain-raiser for the farce that is yet to come.
Zelensky, for his part, is likely already back to the business of running a country under siege. He has no time for medals, nor for the petty squabbles of men in suits who measure their worth by the size of their lapel pins. He is a man who knows that in the end, history judges not by the awards you receive, but by the wars you survive. And if that means returning a bit of silver to its rightful owners, so be it.
So let the Poles polish their eagle, if they must. But they would do well to remember that the eyes of the world are on them, and the only thing worse than a broken alliance is a broken promise. And a broken medal is just a bit of silver. It is worth nothing compared to the blood of the Ukrainians who are fighting for Europe’s freedom. But then again, what do I know? I am just a journalist who prefers his gin with a twist of lemon, and his news with a dose of reality.