There is a kind of danger that does not explode, but quietly seeps into everyday life. At first, it looks like a harmless rumor, a suspicious headline, a meme shared by an angry relative. But over time, that noise begins to erode trust in public institutions, in journalists, in doctors, in neighbors. Poland has lived with this for years, and its officials have come to understand that disinformation is not simply an online inconvenience. It is a national security crisis. At the 8th Cybersecurity Forum in Warsaw, Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of Digital Transformation Krzysztof Gawkowski made that clear with a striking announcement. Poland would establish a unified state center to combat disinformation. “Poland will be the first country in Europe to establish a unified center to combat disinformation,” he said, according to the online media outlet Ukrinform. His words did not sound like a routine bureaucratic update. They sounded like a declaration of intent, shaped by years of watching hostile narratives spread faster than facts. Gawkowski and his colleagues had seen how campaigns linked to Russia and Belarus were intensifying, adapting, and targeting the most sensitive points of Polish society. These campaigns sought to destabilize the country, to make citizens doubt their own government, to create divisions between social groups, and to weaken Poland’s confidence in its allies. The decision to create a unified center is an attempt to build a defense system for public reality itself. It acknowledges that a modern state must protect not just borders, infrastructure, and armies, but also the shared stories that hold people together.
The mechanics of the new center are still unfolding, but the announcement offers a clear sense of direction. The Polish Prime Minister signed the formal decision on September 29, and the document took effect the very next day. Deputy Minister of Digital Transformation Paweł Olszewski, who is responsible for cybersecurity, coordinated the preparations. Gawkowski emphasized that the center will be a unified state body, the first of its kind in Europe. What does “unified” mean in practice? It signals a move away from the old, fragmented approach, where different ministries, police units, intelligence agencies, and local authorities responded to disinformation on their own. In the past, each institution might investigate a false story separately, often losing precious time. Sometimes officials contradicted one another, accidentally amplifying the very lie they were trying to correct. A unified center can assemble a full picture in hours: where a narrative started, which social media accounts pushed it, which communities were most exposed, and what official response is ready. It can follow the entire life cycle of a falsehood, from first detection to public rebuttal. It can also build what Gawkowski called a strategic framework, so that the state does not simply react to each new lie but understands the deeper patterns behind hostile influence operations. This matters because disinformation is not random noise. It is planned, funded, and repeatedly tested. It is designed to exploit old grievances, deepen political animosity, and create a slow process of social decay. A unified center with a strategic perspective gives Poland a chance to anticipate those attacks instead of always running behind them.
The urgency of this effort is impossible to ignore when looking at Poland’s place on the map. Poland shares borders with Belarus, Ukraine, and the Russian exclave of Kaliningrad. It has become a major hub for military and humanitarian support to Ukraine, and a key staging ground for NATO operations in the region. That makes it a prime target for hostile information operations. Officials have repeatedly pointed to Russia and Belarus as the main sources of disinformation aimed at destabilizing Poland. Russian-language propaganda has pushed false stories about Polish politics, while Belarus has used the border crisis to create tension and confusion. These campaigns are often woven together with cyberattacks, economic pressure, and psychological operations. They try to convince Poles that their government is corrupt, that their allies are unreliable, that refugees are a threat, and that the entire Western order is collapsing. Sometimes the lies are enormous and absurd; at other times they are small and subtle, designed to slip into ordinary conversation. The purpose is not necessarily to make every person believe every false story. The goal is easier than that: to make enough people feel uncertain, exhausted, and distrustful. When a society loses faith in the possibility of truth, it becomes fragmented and passive. It becomes easier to manipulate, easier to divide, and harder to defend. Poland has seen this happen in other countries, and it is determined not to let it happen at home. The new center is a direct answer to those operations, a way of saying that the state sees them, names them, and will respond.
Still, no official center can defeat disinformation alone. It must operate inside the human world, because disinformation lives in emotions, relationships, and identity. People share false stories not always because they have verified them, but because those stories make them angry, afraid, or proud. A meme is not just information; it is a badge of belonging. That is why the new center must work closely with citizens, schools, journalists, and community leaders. It must invest in media literacy, teaching people to recognize manipulation techniques before they fall under their spell. It must issue clear recommendations about how to check suspicious claims, how to identify fake accounts, and how to respond when a relative posts something dangerous. It must partner with civil society organizations that have already built trust in their communities, especially among elderly people, minorities, and border residents who may be particularly exposed. At the same time, the center must be careful to respect democratic values. Poland is not building this structure to silence lawful speech or punish political opponents. The goal is defense against foreign manipulation, not control of domestic debate. That line must stay clear in every action the center takes. It needs independent oversight, transparent procedures, and a visible commitment to protecting the very freedoms it is trying to defend. If the center becomes a black box, it could feed the same distrust it is meant to fight. If it remains open and accountable, it can become a trusted institution, a place where citizens feel they can turn when the information landscape becomes chaotic.
The strategic framework at the heart of the center offers a way to turn scattered responses into one coordinated movement. It can create early warning systems, crisis communication playbooks, and a shared database of known threats. It can connect ministries, police, military, intelligence, public health, and local government in a way that never happened before. It can also cooperate with international partners and European institutions, because disinformation does not respect borders. A fake story aimed at Poland can be launched from one country, amplified through another, and shared across dozens of languages within hours. The center must therefore be part of a wider network, exchanging signals and tactics with allies in NATO, the European Union, and beyond. As the first unified center in Europe, Poland has a chance to lead by example. Other countries will watch closely. If the Polish model works, it may inspire similar institutions across the continent, creating a shared architecture of resistance. But the center must never become isolated in the digital world. It must remain grounded in the real lives of ordinary people. If a farmer in eastern Poland sees a hoax about EU subsidies, the truth should reach him before he loses money or hope. If a mother reads a fabricated warning about local schools, she should be able to find accurate information within minutes. That requires more than algorithms and databases. It requires empathy, language skills, local knowledge, and patience. The center will need sociologists, psychologists, linguists, and communicators, not just programmers and analysts. It must understand Polish culture as something alive and precious, not simply as an area to be monitored and defended.
In the end, the creation of Poland’s unified center to combat disinformation is a deeply human decision. It says that lies do not automatically win, and that a state can evolve to meet threats that were unimaginable only a generation ago. Gawkowski’s announcement at the Cybersecurity Forum in Warsaw was not a technical detail; it was a promise to citizens. It promised that their trust matters, that their minds are not fair game, and that their country will not stand silently while foreign actors try to pull its people apart. The work, however, is just beginning. A center on paper is different from a center with experienced staff, powerful tools, and public legitimacy. Building it will take time, money, and constant learning. There will be mistakes, and some attacks will still get through. But the very existence of the center represents a choice in favor of resilience. It rejects the fatalism that says democracy cannot defend itself against digital manipulation. It recognizes that the human mind is the most important line of defense in any nation, and that protecting it deserves the same seriousness as protecting borders or power grids. Poland’s unified center is not a perfect answer, but it is a brave and necessary start. In a world where lies travel at the speed of a click, a coordinated response may make all the difference between confusion and clarity, between division and unity. For Poland, and perhaps for all of Europe, this is a signal of hope: the truth may be harder to defend, but it is still worth defending.