WARSAW — In a stark and unusually personal warning, Poland’s digital affairs minister stood before reporters and described a war that is not fought with tanks or missiles, but with lies, manipulated identities, and the quiet indifference of the world’s most powerful communication tools. Krzysztof Gawkowski called social media platforms a “silent ally” of Russia in an ongoing digital war, accusing some of the biggest tech companies in the world of doing nothing to stop the spread of disinformation while their algorithms amplify it. His words carried the weight of someone who has watched the battlefield shift from physical borders to the feeds of ordinary citizens, where a single fabricated video or a coordinated swarm of fake accounts can influence what people believe about their country, their neighbors, and their own democracy. Poland, he argued, is on the front lines of this conflict, and the platforms that were supposed to connect humanity have become accomplices to those trying to tear it apart. The press conference was not a routine policy update; it was an appeal, a grievance, and a threat all at once. And at the center of it was a simple, uncomfortable truth: the institutions that shape public discourse are refusing to defend the public from foreign manipulation, and the state is running out of patience.
The evidence presented by Gawkowski was not anecdotal. It came from NASK, Poland’s national research institute responsible for cybersecurity and digital affairs, which has been tracking disinformation campaigns aimed at Polish society. In the first half of this year alone, NASK sent social media platforms more than 65,000 reports of fake accounts, coordinated bot networks, and other forms of disinformation. The response was underwhelming. According to the data, the platforms acted on fewer than a quarter of those reports. Broken down further, only about 7% of the reported cases were deleted, while just over 17% were moderated in any meaningful way. That means tens of thousands of potentially harmful posts and accounts were left untouched, free to continue spreading their content to Polish users. For Gawkowski, this was not a technical shortcoming or a staffing issue. It was a pattern of neglect, and in the context of a suspected Russian influence operation, it looked less like incompetence and more like complicity. He argued that the platforms are not merely failing to respond; they are making a calculated choice. By refusing to remove or even label disinformation, they allow it to circulate, grow, and generate engagement. In the economy of attention, every angry click, every shared lie, every confused comment is revenue. Disinformation, he suggested, is not an accident of the system. It is fuel for the system. And in that equation, the victims are not just Polish citizens, but the very idea of an informed public.
The language Gawkowski used was deliberately blunt. He said the data pointed not to a failure, but to deliberate action by platforms that profit from disinformation, use it, and treat it as a source of revenue. That is a serious accusation, and it marks a shift in tone from the usual diplomatic appeals to tech companies. It is one thing to ask for cooperation and another to accuse Silicon Valley of being an active participant in a foreign intelligence operation. Yet that is exactly what the minister implied. He spoke of the Kremlin’s GRU, Russia’s military intelligence agency, and its coordination with bot farms and fake accounts, and then he placed the platforms in the same sentence, not as victims of manipulation, but as silent partners. The implication is that every time a platform fails to remove a bot network that has been identified by state researchers, every time an appeal process is ignored, every time a response takes weeks or months, the platform is making a choice. It chooses not to protect its users. It chooses not to defend the integrity of the public square. And it chooses to continue collecting the attention and ad dollars that disinformation generates. This is the kind of accusation that resonates deeply in Poland, a country that has watched Russia’s hybrid tactics evolve over years and has become increasingly anxious about the next election, the next crisis, the next wave of lies that could destabilize society from within.
But Gawkowski did not stop at criticism. He issued a set of concrete demands, and he made clear that the era of polite requests was over. The platforms, he said, must establish effective Polish-speaking content moderation teams. This is not a small demand. Poland is a country of nearly forty million people, and its language is not widely spoken beyond its borders. Moderation systems often rely on automated tools or small teams that may not understand the cultural, historical, and political nuances of Polish online spaces. A post that might seem harmless to a moderator in Ireland or India could be a dangerous piece of propaganda in Poland, especially when it plays on historical grievances, national pride, or fears about security. Without local expertise, even the best-intentioned moderation efforts will miss the point. Beyond that, Gawkowski demanded that these teams maintain a direct, real-time link to the institutions that report disinformation. He wants the people responsible for detecting bot networks and influence operations to be able to reach someone on the other side immediately, not through a generic portal or a support ticket that sits in a queue for days. He also called for the elimination of what he called sham appeals processes. In many cases, when a legitimate report is submitted and the platform does nothing, there is no effective way to challenge that inaction. Gawkowski wants to end that. He demanded the immediate removal of any identified bot networks, not a gradual review or a request for more information, but immediate action. And he demanded shorter response times across the board. In a digital war, speed matters. A lie can travel around the world in hours, and if the response comes a week later, the damage is already done.
Perhaps the most significant moment of the press conference came when Gawkowski threatened financial penalties. He said that any state request left unfulfilled by the platforms would trigger proceedings to impose fines. This is a direct challenge to the power of the tech giants, and it signals that Poland is prepared to move beyond persuasion. The threat of fines is not new in the European Union, where the Digital Services Act has given regulators more tools to hold platforms accountable for illegal and harmful content. But Poland’s minister was speaking as a representative of a country in a state of heightened threat, and his message was unmistakable: if you will not act in good faith, we will act against you. It is easy to imagine the frustration behind those words. For years, governments have asked, negotiated, and begged. They have published reports, held hearings, and signed agreements. And meanwhile, the platforms have continued to operate largely as they always have, prioritizing growth over truth. The silence from the companies was telling. Discord, Google, Meta, X, Telegram, and TikTok did not immediately respond to requests for comment. They may have been preparing statements, or they may have simply decided that the accusations were not worth addressing. But in the eyes of Polish officials, that silence is not neutrality. It is indifference. And in a war, indifference can be as damaging as hostility. Russia, for its part, has denied the accusations, as it has done many times before. Moscow says the West exaggerates the Russian threat for its own political reasons. But from Warsaw’s perspective, the denials are predictable, the evidence is mounting, and the stakes are too high to wait for an admission that may never come.
What makes this story so human is not the data or the legal threats, but what they represent. Behind every fake account is a real person who might read that content and change their mind about a refugee, an election, or an ally. Behind every bot network is an attempt to manipulate the emotional life of a nation, to create anger, fear, and division where there could be trust and solidarity. The Polish minister’s words are a reminder that the digital world is not separate from the real one. It is where people now form their opinions, find their news, and shape their identities. When platforms fail to act, they are not just failing governments. They are failing ordinary people who are trying to make sense of a complex world. Gawkowski’s frustration is the frustration of someone who has seen too many warnings ignored and too many opportunities for action wasted. He spoke like a man who is tired of explaining the obvious. The question now is whether the platforms will hear him, whether they will change their behavior, and whether they will finally decide that the integrity of democracy is worth more than the engagement that disinformation provides. Fines may force compliance, but they cannot replace responsibility. In the end, the battle against disinformation will not be won by governments alone. It will require platforms to accept that they are not neutral conduits, that their algorithms have consequences, and that they have a duty to the publics they serve. Until they do, Poland will continue to stand on the front lines, watching, reporting, and waiting for action, while the silent ally of the Kremlin keeps collecting its reward.