With high-profile leaders such as New Zealand premier Jacinda Ardern and U.S. Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez rising to global prominence, you’d be forgiven for thinking the progressive left seems to be making a comeback.
But its prospects are markedly less exciting in Europe, where modern progressives are mostly flailing in the polls. Notwithstanding a few notable exceptions — Germany’s Greens have risen dramatically in the polls, and some segments of the radical populist left are making inroads in countries like France — placing your bets on a progressive and socially liberal agenda is a risky move, particularly in Central and Eastern Europe.
And yet, that is exactly what Robert Biedroń, the 43-year old former mayor of the northern Polish town of Słupsk and a former member of parliament, is intent on doing.
Charismatic and openly gay, Biedroń has been compared to French President Emmanuel Macron, who disrupted France’s political establishment in 2017. And his prospects certainly look good: His “movement,” not yet an officially registered political party, has already claimed 9 percent support in recent polls, compared to 37 percent for the governing right-wing Law and Justice (PiS) party and 25 percent for the main opposition grouping, Civic Platform.
Biedroń’s views — compared to those of PiS and Civic Platform — are unapologetically left-wing. He advocates for a complete separation of church and state, the abolition of tax privileges for the clergy, and the replacement of religion classes in public schools with English. He is also a strong supporter of LGBT and women’s rights, including access to abortion.
Robert Biedroń takes a selfie with supporters on November 27, 2018 in Szczecin, Poland | Sean Gallup/Getty Images
But perhaps his most controversial position is his refusal to join forces with Civic Platform, the main center-right opposition party. Despite accusing the right-wing government of “terrorizing [Polish] democracy,” Biedroń has not shied away from criticizing the opposition.
His primary target has been the economic track record of the previous Civic Platform-led government, which he claims put in place an unsuccessful “trickle-down development model” that prompted a brain drain in smaller towns, where only “older, non-working people” now remain. He has also called for a much higher degree of economic redistribution from Poland’s wealthy cities to its much poorer towns and rural areas, as well as a “citizen’s pension,” a form of universal basic income, of at least 1,600 złoty per month (about €380).
His suggested policies mark a serious departure from politics as usual in Poland, a country where the political left is still, to some extent, associated with painful memories of communism. Indeed, it may be the first time since 1989 that serious progressive ideas are receiving a hearing.
The gap Biedroń fills on the political market is especially resonant among young and educated urban voters. Poland’s millennials increasingly resemble their Western counterparts: For them, progressive ideals are not tainted by memories of the old regime, and they are disenchanted with what appears, to them, to be a right-wing political duopoly.
Still, despite his appeal with a growing section of the population, Biedroń should tread carefully.
Left-wing platforms across the region are not getting the kind of traction Biedroń is hoping for, and their trajectories point to trouble ahead.
In the Czech Republic, the once-dominant Social Democrats (ČSSD) are struggling to remain relevant. Slovakia’s established Smer party is progressive in name only, having internalized much of the intolerant right-wing populism and anti-immigration rhetoric characteristic of Visegrad countries. Meanwhile, Progressive Slovakia — a left-wing party founded by a group of young Slovaks in 2017 — is not faring too well either. Unhappy with what was on offer, its goal, like Biedroń’s, was to disrupt upcoming national elections in 2020. But more than two years in, polls indicate that the party, which also has a strong following among young urban Slovaks, will only barely make it into the national parliament, if it gains a seat at all. Its most charismatic figure, Zuzana Čaputová, is trailing fifth in polls ahead of the presidential election to be held in March.
None of this is a good sign for Biedroń, who has similar ambitions and faces many of the same obstacles. With a parliamentary election to be held by November, time is not on his side. As illustrated by the fate of Poland’s Nowoczesna, or Modern Party — a once promising example of a centrist political disruptor that has since fallen into irrelevance — it is one thing to build a movement that can succeed in a particular election, and quite another to build a resilient party structure.
Nevertheless, Biedroń’s budding political movement shouldn’t be written off. It has captured the imagination of Polish millennials, many of whom don’t see themselves represented by the political establishment. With their support, Biedroń could well have a shot at revitalizing Polish democracy.
Much will depend on whether he can avoid fragmenting the Polish opposition ahead of the election. Neither Biedroń nor Civic Platform can afford to let narcissism or small differences in policy blind them to the first-order problems facing Poland: PiS’s creeping authoritarianism, the erosion of rule of law, and the country’s growing geopolitical isolation.
Only by working together will they stand a chance of dethroning Law and Justice, and restoring Poland’s place as a post-communist success story and a key European player.
CORRECTION: This article has been updated to clarify Robert Biedroń’s current job title.
Martin Miszerak is the chief executive of business advisory firm Miszerak & Associates and a former privatization adviser to the Polish government. Dalibor Rohac is a research fellow at the American Enterprise Institute.