Warsaw, October 31, 2025 – In a stark reminder of the fraying edges of wartime solidarity, Polish national police data reveals a troubling surge in bias-motivated crimes against Ukrainians, marking the third consecutive year of escalation since Russia's full-scale invasion in February 2022. Shared exclusively with the Onet news portal on Thursday, the figures paint a picture of deepening xenophobia in a nation that once opened its borders to over a million displaced people from its war-torn neighbor.
Between January 1 and July 31, 2025, law enforcement recorded 543 bias-motivated incidents of all kinds – a 41% jump from the 384 cases logged in the same period of 2024. Police Commissioner Wioletta Szubska, from the Press and Information Department of Police Headquarters, emphasized to Onet that incidents targeting Ukrainians specifically have risen steadily since the invasion's outset. "Based on current trends, we anticipate a new annual record," she warned, underscoring the relentless upward trajectory.
This isn't an isolated spike. Assaults resulting in minor or moderate bodily harm against Ukrainians climbed from 142 in 2022 to 175 in 2023, and then to 204 in 2024 – a 43% increase over two years. In the first eight months of 2025 alone, 118 such attacks were documented, putting the full-year tally on pace to shatter previous highs. Under Poland's criminal code, these offenses can carry penalties of up to five years' imprisonment, though enforcement remains inconsistent.
Notably, Poland's legal framework lacks a formal definition of "hate crime," a gap Szubska highlighted in her remarks. Instead, authorities rely on the guidelines from the Office for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights (ODIHR), the human rights arm of the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE). ODIHR defines these as offenses where perpetrators select victims due to prejudice, such as xenophobia, racism, or religious intolerance. "Hate crimes are a manifestation of discrimination and a violation of fundamental human rights," Szubska stated, calling for urgent reforms to close the definitional void.
The data arrives against a backdrop of shifting public sentiment in Poland, where initial waves of compassion have eroded into resentment over economic pressures and resource competition. Sociologist Prof. Przemysław Sadura of the University of Warsaw described the phenomenon to Onet as a transition from the 2022 "carnival" of solidarity – when Poles mobilized en masse to aid arriving refugees – to widespread anxieties about welfare systems, public services, and employment. "Stories about Ukrainians 'taking places' in doctors' or kindergarten queues or unfairly collecting benefits speak to the fragility of our welfare state," Sadura explained. He pointed to the service sector in particular, where fears of job loss are compounded by automation and the influx of "desperate, cheaper labor" from Ukraine.
Poland has absorbed more Ukrainian refugees than any other European nation, hosting over a million since 2022, according to UNHCR estimates. As of May 2025, nearly 1 million Ukrainians remained registered under temporary protection status, with official figures from the PESEL-UKR system showing 947,031 active registrations by late 2024 – a number researchers caution may be inflated due to outdated entries. Border crossings from Ukraine totaled over 7.57 million since January 2024, though many were returns or transits. Economically, these newcomers have been a boon: A June 2025 UNHCR report noted that Ukrainian refugees contributed a net 2.7% to Poland's GDP in 2024, with employment rates surging from 61% to 69% in a single year, thanks to swift labor market access. Yet, perceptions lag behind facts, fueling narratives of burden that stoke bias.
While police have yet to release a comprehensive 2025 nationality breakdown, officials confirm Ukrainians – comprising the largest foreign community in Poland – endure the brunt of these crimes in both volume and rate of increase. Incidents against other groups, such as Belarusians, Russians, and migrants from the Middle East or Africa, occur but at far lower levels, per police and NGO reports. A 2018 ODIHR-backed survey in Warsaw and Krakow already highlighted underreporting: Of 269 hate incidents self-identified by Ukrainians, Muslims, and Sub-Saharan Africans, only 19 reached police desks, with insults (17% for Ukrainians) as the most common form. Reasons for silence? Victims often deem incidents "too common" or fear disbelief.
This year's uptick coincides with broader societal fractures. A March 2025 DW report documented "drastically" rising attacks and online hate speech against Ukrainians, linked to the 2023-2024 grain import disputes that sparked nationwide protests. Protesters blockaded borders, decrying "unfair competition" from Ukrainian agricultural products, even as EU free-trade deals aimed to support Kyiv. Vandalism followed: In one case, a Warsaw Ukrainian cultural center was defaced with graffiti reading "Go back to Ukraine," tied by activists to these tensions. By September 2025, incidents escalated further; Ukrainian Ambassador Vasyl Bodnar publicly demanded justice after a cross was sawn off a Ukrainian church in Warsaw, labeling it a hate crime amid a wave of church desecrations.
Online, the vitriol amplifies. A June 2025 Institute for Strategic Dialogue (ISD) investigation uncovered Russia-aligned disinformation campaigns – dubbed "Operation Overload" – flooding Polish social media with falsehoods, such as claims that Ukrainians drive up violent crime rates or exploit welfare systems. Satirical videos morphed into calls for mass deportations, shared via coordinated networks on X (formerly Twitter), Telegram, and Facebook. ISD monitored over 4,000 X accounts in April-May 2025, finding anonymous posts alleging Ukrainian "terrorist plots" on election day – echoes of Kremlin tactics seen in the 2024 Paris Olympics and German polls. Pro-Kremlin outlets like the "Pravda" network, believed state-controlled, peddled stories of Ukrainian sabotage, including unverified claims of water pipeline poisonings and migrant smuggling. One X user in September 2025 blamed Ukrainians outright for "most crimes in Poland," citing these tropes.
Historical grievances compound the crisis. Tensions trace to World War II-era atrocities, including the Volhynia massacres, where Ukrainian nationalists killed up to 100,000 Poles in ethnic cleansing campaigns – a trauma Poland's new conservative President Karol Nawrocki has elevated, blocking Ukraine's EU and NATO bids until "atonement." A January 2025 agreement between Presidents Zelenskyy and Nawrocki allowed exhumations of massacre sites, but it reignited debates, with Polish far-right figures like Grzegorz Braun – under investigation for tearing down a Ukrainian flag – railing against "Ukrainization." On X, users invoked these ghosts to justify modern hate, with one lamenting Poles' "betrayal" by Ukraine while ignoring mutual wartime horrors.
Personal stories underscore the human cost. Svitlana, a 31-year-old Ukrainian mother in Warsaw, told the BBC in May 2025 that her daughter endured schoolyard taunts: "Go back to Ukraine." Once a rarity, such bullying now pervades, per the Never Again Association, which logs daily assaults at its Warsaw office. Activist Natalia Panchenko, co-founder of StandWithUkraine, fields anonymous online abuse weekly, despite her group's integration efforts. "In real life, most Poles are kind," she noted to DW, but surveys tell a grimmer tale: A March 2025 CBOS poll showed only 50% of Poles favoring refugee acceptance, down seven points in four months.
Advocates sound the alarm. The Never Again Association and Ukrainian House NGO urge codifying hate crimes in law, expanding victim support via the Justice Fund, and launching anti-bias campaigns. ODIHR's TAHCLE program has trained Polish police since 2012, but experts like Rafal Pankowski call for more: "It's growing, not majority, but enough to scar communities." As Poland heads into 2026, with elections looming, the stakes rise – will solidarity prevail, or will fear fracture a vital alliance against Russian aggression?
In Krakow's Ukrainian House, CEO Myroslava Keryk fields pleas weekly: "A year ago, shoves and 'Speak Polish!' shouts were rare. Now, they're daily." For the million Ukrainians building lives amid war's shadow, Poland remains a lifeline – but one increasingly laced with peril. As Szubska put it, addressing this demands not just data, but a societal reckoning. Without it, the "carnival" of 2022 risks becoming a cautionary tale of compassion's limits.
