The Russian documentary “Russia – Poland. A Conflict Lasting a Thousand Years” presents the history of Polish–Russian relations as an unbroken chain of hostility and conflict, stretching from the medieval era to the present day. Right from the start, the narrator emphasizes an alleged eternal enmity, stating that “Russians and Poles are two Slavic nations that have lived side by side for centuries… but since the 10th century, Poland and Russia have been in conflict.”

This fatalistic claim is further developed by attributing the division between the two nations to religious differences: Poland, the narrator states, was “baptized by the Vatican,” while Russia was “baptized by Byzantium.” In doing so, the film immediately constructs a vision of a historical clash of civilizations—Catholic Western Europe represented by Poland, and Orthodox Eastern Europe embodied by Russia.

However, this historical framing does not serve as a reliable analysis of the past; rather, it is part of a broader propaganda strategy. The Kremlin employs an emotionally charged and compelling historical narrative to influence the Arab information space. Historical references are carefully selected and interpreted in a way that resonates with the lived experiences and emotional sensitivities of audiences across the MENA region.

Historical Narrative in the Service of Kremlin Propaganda

The narrator employs a form of historical fatalism, presenting the conflict as inevitable and centuries-old. This framing is intended to suggest a simple conclusion to Arab viewers: that Poles and Russians have always been enemies, and therefore, current tensions are merely a natural continuation of an age-old war. Such a deterministic narrative leaves no room for alternative interpretations and ignores long periods of peaceful coexistence and cooperation between the two nations.

Importantly, the very assumption of a “thousand-year” Polish–Russian neighborhood is historically inaccurate. Russian statehood in the Muscovite sense—commonly recognized as the direct predecessor of the modern Russian Federation—emerged only in the 14th century. Regular diplomatic relations and conflicts with Poland did not begin until the 15th or 16th century. The earlier history of Kievan Rus’ bears no direct connection to Moscow, either geographically or politically.

Nevertheless, the film deliberately blurs the lines between Kievan Rus’, the Grand Duchy of Moscow, the Tsardom of Russia, the Soviet Union, and today’s Russian Federation—treating them as a single, continuous political and geopolitical entity. This narrative device is designed to create the illusion that Russia has always existed as a unified actor on the European stage. In reality, this is a deeply misleading oversimplification.

To the uninformed viewer in the Arab world, unfamiliar with the intricacies of Eastern European history, this storyline may appear coherent and convincing. But in fact, it is one of the most insidious distortions used to conceal the truth: that Russia, as an imperial structure, entered the European political landscape centuries after the establishment of the Kingdom of Poland.

Moreover, from its very first minutes, the documentary deliberately blends historical narrative with current political messaging. Contemporary Poland is portrayed as “the vanguard of NATO aimed at Russia”—a country portrayed as blindly hostile toward Russia, allegedly due to Western propaganda. The narrator claims that “Poland is now one of the most hostile countries toward Russia,” a country on whose territory military bases were established after World War II, and where American forces are now stationed. The film even cites a specific figure—over 100 military bases—which the United States is allegedly planning to deploy in Poland in the coming years.

Such exaggerated claims are intended to give Arab viewers the impression that Poland is heavily militarized and poses a direct threat to Russia. As the narrator concludes, “the Russian people see this as a serious threat coming from Poland—a threat backed by the United States.”

This portrayal of Poland—as a puppet of the West and a forward operating base for an anti-Russian offensive—deliberately taps into themes that are deeply familiar to audiences in the Arab world. The emphasis on NATO and “overseas partners” (namely, the U.S.) resonates with widespread anti-Western sentiment and suspicion of foreign intervention across the MENA region.

Many Arab viewers, shaped by their own historical experiences with Western interference, are likely to interpret this narrative as a modern analogue to imperial policy—casting NATO as a contemporary colonizer and Poland as its local proxy. In this way, the Kremlin’s messaging cleverly exploits existing stereotypes and lingering resentments: if NATO and the U.S. are seen as destabilizing forces, then any country hosting their bases—such as Poland—is, by association, suspect.

This implied association may trigger an instinctive aversion toward Poland among Arab audiences, even before they are exposed to any factual or balanced information.

It is worth noting that Russian historical propaganda does not avoid invoking the theme of “brotherly nations.” The film, despite its overall antagonistic tone, does mention that Poles and Russians share many characteristics as Slavs. However, this motif of brotherhood is immediately contrasted with scenes of conflict. This contrast is likely intentional: in the Middle East, stories of feuding brothers are deeply familiar. Despite shared language and religion, the Arab world has also experienced divisions and internal wars.

Arab viewers may subconsciously relate the Catholic-Orthodox Slavic split to their own lived experiences—such as rivalries between Arab states or conflicts rooted in sectarian divisions. These kinds of cultural references, particularly those involving “fraternal” disputes, make the Russian narrative more relatable and seemingly credible to a MENA audience. History is thus used here as a universal parable, with a moral drawn from the Kremlin’s perspective—crafted to guide the viewer toward certain political conclusions.

In summary, the Kremlin is consciously rewriting history for a specific audience. It employs a calculated blend of facts, half-truths, and emotionally resonant interpretations to produce a compelling narrative. The objective is clear: to generate among Arab viewers a sense of understanding—or even justification—for Russia’s current stance toward Poland and the broader region, by framing it as the natural outcome of a thousand-year-old history.

Before diving into concrete examples of such manipulation, it is important to examine the general mechanisms of disinformation deployed throughout the film.

Mechanisms of Manipulation and Disinformation in the Film

The RT documentary is saturated with techniques typical of historical propaganda. One of its primary mechanisms is the selective presentation of historical facts—events that support the Russian narrative are exaggerated, while inconvenient truths are either omitted or distorted. For instance, the opening theme of a “thousand-year conflict” focuses almost exclusively on episodes of military confrontation, completely omitting long periods of peaceful coexistence or even Polish–Russian alliances (such as the joint victory over Nazism in 1945, which is notably downplayed in the film). This approach creates a false sense of inevitable hostility, reinforcing a narrative of historical fatalism, in which both nations are supposedly doomed to conflict regardless of context.

Oversimplification and distortion of causal relationships is another prevalent tactic. Complex historical processes are reduced to a simplistic narrative: that Poland has always plotted against Russia in collaboration with foreign powers. For example, the film blames Poland itself for the partitions of the 18th century. The narrator suggests that in 1795, Poland “once again threatened Russia with war,” thereby forcing St. Petersburg to respond. This flips historical facts on their head. The Third Partition of Poland was not a consequence of Polish aggression against Russia, but rather the result of a coordinated invasion by the partitioning powers. The film, however, reverses the roles of victim and aggressor—justifying tsarist expansionism as a defensive act against a supposedly belligerent Poland.

A similar narrative distortion is applied to the events of 1939. The Soviet Union’s role in the fourth partition of Poland, conducted in cooperation with Nazi Germany in September 1939, is either whitewashed or ignored. Instead, the film emphasizes that Poland had previously refused to cooperate with Moscow against Hitler—framing this as a form of “betrayal” by Warsaw. The film highlights Poland’s 1934 non-aggression pact with Germany, insinuating an alliance with the Nazis, while entirely omitting the fact that the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact of 1939 included a secret protocol to divide Polish territory.

Even when this secret protocol is finally acknowledged, the narrator immediately adds an exculpatory clause: the pact with Hitler, he claims, came only after “every major European state had already signed agreements with Nazi Germany.” This is a classic example of whataboutism—deflecting blame by pointing to the wrongdoings of others in order to diminish one’s own responsibility. The intended message to the viewer is clear: “If others made deals with Hitler, then the USSR had every right to do the same.”

The film also makes strategic use of cherry-picked statements from “experts” who support the Kremlin’s narrative. It features commentary from individuals introduced as Polish historians or journalists, who in reality echo pro-Russian talking points. One such figure is Jan Engelgard, presented as a respected Warsaw-based publicist, who states on camera that the notion of widespread Polish hatred toward Russia is “exaggerated… on the one hand, we have the official position of the government and the media; on the other, the views of ordinary people.”

This comment implies a deep societal divide: the Polish elite—allegedly manipulated by the West—adopts an anti-Russian stance, while the average Pole supposedly thinks otherwise. This is a manipulative framing that aims to undermine the legitimacy of Poland’s democratically elected government, portraying it as a puppet acting against the will of its own people.

What the film conveniently omits is that Engelgard is the editor of a marginal publication known for its openly pro-Russian sympathies. Yet to the average Arab viewer, unfamiliar with Polish media landscapes, he appears to speak on behalf of ordinary Poles—thus distorting the real picture of public opinion. In fact, public polling shows that a majority of Poles distrust Russia, largely due to its historical and contemporary acts of aggression.

The “voice of the people versus corrupt elites” trope is a familiar one in the MENA region. Audiences in the Arab world have often heard narratives suggesting that their governments capitulate to Western interests against the will of the populace. The Kremlin’s messaging thus intentionally hits a resonant emotional chord, hoping that Arab viewers will empathize with the image of a Polish society betrayed by its leadership.

This narrative conveniently diverts attention from the reality that, in Poland’s case, the position of the government is largely in line with public sentiment. Many Polish citizens harbor genuine and historically grounded concerns about Russian behavior—concerns that are not artificially manufactured, but rooted in lived experience.

Another prominent technique used in the film is amplifying exceptions and presenting them as general rules. For example, the documentary features scenes of a local protest in the Polish town of Drawsko Pomorskie, where residents objected to the removal of a Soviet T-34 tank monument. The footage shows a crowd with children and flags. The narrator describes “violent demonstrations. People, including children, stood in defense of the monument,” and then concludes that the average Pole does not harbor hatred toward Russians.

In reality, such protests were extremely rare. In most Polish cities, Soviet-era monuments were removed without significant resistance. However, the film uses this isolated incident as evidence for a sweeping claim: that Polish society respects the Red Army, and it is only the Western-controlled authorities who want to erase historical memory. This is a classic persuasive device—using emotionally charged anecdotes (such as children defending a war monument) to generalize across an entire nation.

This type of manipulation is particularly effective with audiences unfamiliar with the real context. For Arab viewers, the image of Polish children defending a tank may evoke a strong emotional response, possibly seen as analogous to defending monuments of anti-colonial fighters. As analysts note, scenes of children standing up for ancestral symbols tap into deeply rooted communal values such as respect for the sacrifice of forefathers—values strongly present in Arab cultures. In this way, Russian disinformation skillfully manipulates viewer emotions to make its narrative feel familiar and relatable.

The language of the propaganda also deserves attention. It is filled with extreme expressions and historical analogies designed to shock or provoke outrage. For example, Polish freedom fighters are labeled as “terrorists.” The November Uprising (1830) and January Uprising (1863) are depicted as led by violent religious fanatics. The narrator claims that “Polish noblemen, who expressed deep hatred for Russians, were the main force behind the uprising, supported by Roman Catholic priests who called for the extermination of Orthodox Christians.” The film even suggests: “It wasn’t the first time the Vatican blessed mass murder.”

Such rhetoric dehumanizes Polish independence fighters, portraying them as genocidal religious extremists. This is a blatant inversion of historical reality. In truth, it was the Russian Empire that brutally crushed these uprisings, executing participants and sending them into exile. The Polish resistance movements were primarily national liberation struggles, not religious crusades against Orthodox Christians.

Russian propaganda deliberately emphasizes religious themes, fully aware of their strong resonance in the Middle East. The invocation of crusades—suggested by the portrayal of Catholics allegedly calling for extermination—is meant to trigger associations among Arab viewers with Western colonialism and forced religious conversion “by fire and sword.”

In another part of the film, a Russian clergyman recounts the atrocities of medieval crusaders: the desecration of Orthodox churches in Thessaloniki, the killing of priests, and the defilement of relics. Following this vivid “history lesson,” the narrator poses a rhetorical question: “Did Russians kill clergymen? … No – only the Poles did that.”

This message is deeply manipulative: Poles are placed in a historical continuum of Western religious aggressors, heirs to the legacy of the Crusades, while Russians are cast as defenders of faith and innocent victims. For Arab viewers, who carry historical memories of the Crusades and imperial rivalry, this black-and-white narrative can be especially persuasive. Its purpose is to elicit sympathy for the “oppressed” Russian East and hostility toward the “aggressive” Polish-Western alliance.

In conclusion

The film deploys a full spectrum of disinformation techniques: from historical falsification and selective framing of facts, to emotionally charged language, weaponized historical analogies, the use of controlled “experts”, and deliberate appeals to pre-existing biases among target audiences.

All these mechanisms serve a single strategic objective: to construct a coherent propaganda narrative that legitimizes the Russian worldview while discrediting Poland and the West. By doing so, the film seeks not only to influence perception, but to shift sympathies in the Arab world toward Moscow’s position—anchored in carefully crafted myths rather than historical truth.

Why Arab-Speaking Audiences? The Kremlin’s Political Objectives

This raises key questions: Why is Russia targeting Arab audiences with such historical narratives, and what political goals does it hope to achieve? The answer lies in the broader geopolitical strategy of the Kremlin and the specific characteristics of the information environment across the MENA region.

First, the Middle East and North Africa have long been a focus of intensified Russian propaganda efforts. The Kremlin has recognized that the Arab world presents fertile ground for influence—marked by anti-Western resentments, widespread disillusionment with the policies of Western powers, and a significant information gap that Russian media are eager to fill.

RT Arabic and Sputnik Arabic broadcast around the clock, consistently presenting events through a pro-Russian lens. Crucially, unlike in Europe, most Arab countries do not restrict or ban the operations of Russian media outlets. As a result, the Kremlin’s narrative flows unhindered across the region, often competing on equal footing with both local and Western broadcasters.

RT Arabic has, in fact, gained massive popularity. As analyst H.A. Hellyer has observed, the RT Arabic website has at times been more widely read than Al Jazeera, and the RT Arabic YouTube channel now boasts more subscribers than any other RT affiliate. This popularity has only grown since the outbreak of the war in Ukraine in 2022—demonstrating that Kremlin-backed narratives are finding fertile ground among Arab audiences.

For Moscow, this is a major strategic asset: it allows the Kremlin to shape public opinion across large swaths of the Arab world directly, bypassing the editorial filters and critical scrutiny commonly present in Western media. The dissemination of the “Thousand-Year Conflict” film fits neatly into this strategy. It is part of a broader campaign to win the sympathy of the so-called Global South while isolating the West within the global information landscape.

Secondly, Russia seeks political returns by framing historical narratives in its favor. The release of a film about Poland, dubbed into Arabic, serves multiple political and strategic objectives:

Delegitimizing Poland on the International Stage:
By portraying Poland as a Russophobic puppet of the United States, Russia seeks to undermine Poland’s credibility in the eyes of Arab elites and societies. As a country actively supporting Ukraine and calling on the international community to condemn Russian aggression, Poland represents a strategic nuisance to the Kremlin. The propaganda aims to ensure that Polish diplomats’ voices—on Ukraine or broader Eastern policy—are met in the Arab world with skepticism or distrust (“These are the ones who have always hated Russia, servants of NATO”). In doing so, Russia attempts to fracture the unity of the Western narrative and neutralize Poland’s influence as a leading advocate for Ukraine.

Cultivating a Pro-Russian Narrative among Arab Societies:
The Kremlin is also working to ensure that public opinion in MENA countries views Russia favorably—or at least, views Western actions with suspicion. Historical storytelling that frames Russia as benevolent and Poland as treacherous is intended to evoke sympathy for Russians as victims of Western injustice (symbolized in the film by Poland). If Arab viewers embrace this narrative, they are more likely to accept Russia’s current actions—for example, the claim that the war in Ukraine is merely a continuation of the fight against a Western conspiracy, with Poland playing the role of a proxy. In short, these films serve as tools of Russian soft power: shaping the image of Moscow as a defender of historical justice and a victim of Western intrigue—an image that resonates strongly in a region marked by a legacy of colonialism.

Exploiting Religious and Anti-Colonial Themes:
As previously mentioned, the film heavily emphasizes themes such as the Crusades, the conflict between Catholicism and Orthodoxy, and alleged crimes committed by the Vatican. This kind of narrative can appeal both to secular pan-Arab nationalists—for whom the Vatican and Western colonial powers are historic adversaries of the Arab world—and to conservative Muslims, for whom the memory of the Crusades and Western Christian aggression remains potent. Russia positions itself as a friend of the Islamic world and a defender of the oppressed—highlighting, for example, its military role in Syria as a bulwark against jihadists, its diplomatic ties with Iran, or its vocal support for Palestinians at the United Nations.

The anti-Catholic and anti-Western framing of Poland thus serves a broader strategic purpose: to present Russia as standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Arabs against the Crusaders—past and present. While this is a cynical oversimplification, it can nonetheless be effective in shaping perceptions and building symbolic solidarity.

Deflecting Attention from Russia’s Own Actions:
Finally, by focusing Arab viewers’ attention on Poland’s alleged historical and contemporary misdeeds (or those of the West more broadly), the film aims to distract from Russia’s own conduct. When the film claims, for example, that Poland harbors ambitions to annex western Ukraine with NATO’s help, the objective is to cast doubt on the true intentions of Poland and the West in relation to Ukraine. The goal is to blur the narrative in which Russia stands alone as the aggressor.

The propaganda suggests: “Everyone has dirty hands—look at the Poles. They too tried to carve up Ukraine, just as they did with Hitler during World War II.” In Arab media ecosystems, where news coverage of Central and Eastern Europe is limited, such narratives can easily fill the information vacuum and allow the Kremlin to set the terms of debate.

In conclusion, Russia targets this film at Arab audiences because it is within this information space that its propaganda is most likely to resonate loudly and encounter the fewest counterarguments.
Through this strategy, the Kremlin simultaneously pursues several goals: it accumulates capital in the ongoing information war with the West, builds its own media sphere of influence in the Arab world, and reinforces anti-Western sentiments from which it stands to gain politically. Poland—depicted as a hostile pawn of the West—is merely a convenient symbol, a “bogeyman” meant to persuade the Arab public that Russia serves as a necessary counterbalance to Western dominance.

Propaganda in Practice: Specific Examples from the Film

To better understand how the mechanisms described above function in practice, it is useful to examine key scenes from the film and analyze the manipulations embedded within them.

The Myth of “Two Polands” and the Puppet Government:
At the very beginning of the documentary, the narrator makes a puzzling statement: “There have always been two states called Poland—one fought for the truth, the other fell in disgrace and betrayal to foreigners.”
This sentence divides the Polish nation into two categories: those who are portrayed positively (read: sympathetic to Russia), and traitors who serve foreign interests. As the film progresses, it becomes clear that the second category includes both current Polish authorities and historical leaders who opposed Russian influence.

This is a clear manipulation aimed at undermining the moral legitimacy of the Polish government. If it has “fallen in disgrace before foreigners,” the implication is that it does not represent the interests of its own people. For Arab viewers—many of whom are accustomed to narratives about corrupt elites collaborating with the West—this framing can appear credible and familiar.

The film offers no evidence to support claims of “disgrace” or “betrayal.” Instead, viewers are expected to accept these statements on faith alone. This is a classic example of baseless demonization, designed to delegitimize a political opponent without the burden of proof.

Generalizing from a Single Case (the Protest in Drawsko Pomorskie):
The previously mentioned incident involving the defense of a T-34 tank monument in the small Polish town of Drawsko Pomorskie is presented in the film as supposed evidence of pro-Russian sentiment among “average Poles.” The viewer sees authentic footage of agitated residents protesting the monument’s removal, accompanied by the narrator’s claim: “This shows that the average Polish citizen still holds positive feelings toward Russia.”

This is a classic example of the pars pro toto fallacy—a propaganda tactic in which a single part is falsely presented as representative of the whole. In this case, one isolated town, influenced by specific local sentiments, is used to portray an entire nation’s supposed sympathies. The filmmakers conveniently omit the fact that such protests were rare and that in most Polish cities, Soviet-era monuments were removed without significant opposition.

What’s more, the film fails to disclose that the defense of the monument in Drawsko was partly orchestrated by local post-communist activists, rather than stemming from a spontaneous, widespread love for Russia. These contextual details are left out because they would undermine the film’s central thesis.

To an Arab viewer unfamiliar with the nuances of Polish society, the scene from Drawsko Pomorskie may be perceived as representative of national sentiment. This is a powerful example of how propaganda can use authentic imagery while embedding it in a distorted context—creating an emotional response that supports a false generalization.

Demonizing Polish Uprisings and Reversing the Victim–Aggressor Narrative:
In the second half of the first part of the film, the documentary presents the history of Polish national uprisings against the Russian Empire in the 19th century. However, instead of portraying them as classic struggles for national liberation, the viewer is given a narrative of bloody religious rebellions.

The narrator describes the 1830 and 1863 uprisings not as acts of patriotism, but as “terrorist uprisings” led by rebels who allegedly killed Orthodox priests, peasants, and even fellow Poles who did not support the cause. The film makes extreme accusations: that the Polish nobility and Catholic clergy called for the extermination of Orthodox believers, and that the insurgents were nothing more than fanatics spreading terror.

The climax of this segment is the rhetorical question quoted earlier: “Did Russians ever do such things? No—only the Poles did.”

This part of the film illustrates a severe dehumanization of Poles in Russian messaging. Victims of Tsarist repression are recast as executioners of Orthodox Christians, while Russian imperial enforcers who crushed the uprisings are portrayed as defenders of order.

Crucially, this manipulation is framed through religious themes, purposefully targeting a sensitive chord for Muslim and Arab viewers. Polish uprisings are inserted into the broader historical scheme of “Western Christian religious wars,” likely to evoke associations with Crusades and colonial violence in the minds of Arab audiences.

Orthodox Christian Russia is positioned here as a spiritual cousin of Arab Eastern Christians (e.g., Syrian Orthodox communities), who have also historically suffered under Western imperial aggression. This is a deliberate distortion of historical context, crafted to provoke moral condemnation of Polish resistance, but viewed through a religious rather than national lens.

The intended effect is for Arab viewers to perceive Poles not only as aggressors toward Russians, but as part of a larger anti-Eastern Christian project—thereby casting Russia as the protector of the oppressed. This segment demonstrates how Russian propaganda can combine historical distortion, conspiracy theory (e.g., “the Vatican blesses genocide”), and emotionally charged tropes into a single, manipulative message that exploits deeply rooted historical memories—such as those of the Crusades.

Slandering Poland in the Context of World War II:
In the second part of the film, which covers the period of the two World Wars, we find further concrete examples of disinformation. One of the key claims is that Poland was to blame for falling victim to Hitler. Viewers are told that Poland rejected the Soviet Union’s offer to form an anti-Nazi coalition, which is described as a form of “Polish betrayal.” At the same time, the film emphasizes that Poland signed a non-aggression pact with Nazi Germany in 1934, and supposedly “entered into an alliance with a state built on genocide.”

Even more striking is the narrator’s claim that Poland’s pact with Hitler laid the groundwork for a new division of Europe. This is a gross distortion of chronology and causality, suggesting that Hitler invaded Poland in 1939 partly because Poland had earlier collaborated with him against the Soviet Union.

This absurd notion ignores the well-established historical fact that it was the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact between Hitler and Stalin that directly led to the Fourth Partition of Poland. But the film deflects attention from this point, referring to the Nazi–Soviet pact defensively—claiming that it was signed only after “other countries had also signed agreements with Hitler,” and insisting that it “played no decisive role.” This is a clear attempt to downplay the importance of Soviet–Nazi collaboration.

In this section of the film, we also detect subtle efforts to whitewash the Soviet invasion of Poland on September 17, 1939. As is typical in Russian historical narratives, this is not described as an act of aggression, but rather as an operation to “protect” the populations of Western Ukraine and Belarus. While the euphemism itself is not explicitly stated—possibly to avoid alienating Arab viewers—the overall logic of the film’s argument is geared toward justifying Soviet actions as a geopolitical necessity.

In messaging directed at Arab audiences, the film advances the argument that a small state (Poland) that refused to cooperate with a potential ally (the USSR) fell victim to aggression, and that Stalin had no choice but to secure his borders. To many viewers in the Middle East—who are often familiar with the realpolitik of great powers—this line of reasoning may appear pragmatic and even rational. The goal is to plant seeds of understanding or even acceptance of Stalin’s pact with Hitler by implying: “Since the West isolated the Soviet Union, it had to make a deal with the devil to buy time.”

This is, of course, a dangerous distortion, because it overlooks the price paid by the peoples of Central and Eastern Europe, including the brutal Soviet occupation of eastern Poland from 1939 to 1941. Yet in the film, that price is entirely omitted. The focus remains solely on the Soviet Union’s motives—creating a one-sided narrative aimed at moral exoneration of Stalin and strategic demonization of Poland.

Contemporary Disinformation: Poland Allegedly Seeks to Partition Ukraine

The film does not stop at historical manipulation. In its third part, it shifts seamlessly into the present day, drawing dangerous historical analogies. One particularly inflammatory suggestion is that Poland currently harbors ambitions to annex western Ukrainian territories with NATO’s support. The narrator claims: “Poland believes it can annex Ukrainian territories with the help of NATO,” and then adds: “This is exactly the same scenario that played out with Hitler when Czechoslovakia was divided.”

In this way, Poland’s modern support for war-torn Ukraine is cynically equated to its 1938 occupation of Zaolzie, following the Munich Agreement, when Poland took advantage of Czechoslovakia’s dismemberment. The message is clear: Poles are scheming once again to exploit a war in order to seize part of a neighboring country.

Of course, reality contradicts this conspiracy theory. Poland has been a steadfast supporter of Ukraine’s territorial integrity and has made no territorial claims. However, for an uninformed Arab viewer, such a sensational “revelation”—presented by a documentary narrator in a historical tone—may sound credible. This is especially the case when the film “documents” its claim by citing a Russian newspaper. The narrator states that Russian press outlets have reported on Polish mercenaries allegedly planning operations near Kherson.

Arab audiences are unlikely to be familiar with which Russian outlets function as Kremlin propaganda tools, and thus the mere invocation of “media sources” adds an illusion of legitimacy. This is a typical example of hybrid disinformation that blends facts with insinuation: the fact that Polish volunteers are fighting in Ukraine is combined with the insinuation that this constitutes preparation for seizing Ukrainian territory.

The result is that viewers are led to believe that Poland poses a threat to Ukraine’s territorial integrity—thereby implying that Russia’s actions might be justified as a defensive measure against potential Polish aggression. This is particularly dangerous propaganda because it looks forward: the Kremlin appears to be preemptively discrediting Poland so that if any provocation or incident occurs in the future, it can turn to Arab viewers and say: “See? We warned you.”

The examples discussed—from historical distortions to modern-day fake news—illustrate just how coherent and multi-layered the messaging is in the film “Russia – Poland. A Conflict Lasting a Thousand Years.” Each segment reinforces the others: past injustices are used to justify current tensions, and present-day accusations are framed as the logical continuation of a centuries-old narrative.

Together, they construct a portrait of Poland as inherently hostile, morally corrupt, and driven by a deep-rooted desire to harm Russia in the service of its Western masters. This demonization is a textbook example of propaganda designed not only to discredit one party (Poland), but also to morally legitimize the actions of the other (Russia).

A viewer who accepts these manipulations is psychologically conditioned to view a potential future conflict between Russia and Poland (or NATO more broadly) as not only inevitable—but even justified. This is the ultimate goal of such messaging: to prepare audiences, emotionally and morally, for the escalation of hostilities by embedding them in a distorted—but compelling—historical narrative.

Risks for the MENA Region and for Poland’s International Image

This type of propaganda poses a number of risks, both for Arab audiences and for Poland’s position on the global stage. Below is a brief overview of the most pressing threats:

Disinformation and Societal Polarization:
Arabic-speaking viewers, many of whom lack in-depth knowledge of Central European history, are especially vulnerable to accepting the film’s message at face value. If they take the Russian narrative as fact, their worldview becomes fundamentally distorted.

Russian propaganda frequently floods audiences with messaging. Analysts have noted that RT Arabic publishes significantly more content on social media than outlets such as Al Jazeera or the BBC—attempting to overwhelm users with pro-Russian material and drown out alternative perspectives.

As a result, segments of Arab public opinion may become deeply polarized. In the absence of counter-narratives, people may come to believe that Russia is the victim of a global conspiracy, and that Poland and the West are the true aggressors. This undermines reasoned dialogue and makes it harder to understand the real causes of current conflicts, such as Russia’s war of aggression in Ukraine.

A society fed on disinformation is more prone to radicalized views and hostility toward the “enemies of Russia,” which can lead to real-world political consequences in the region—such as pro-Russian demonstrations or deepening distrust toward Western diplomats and institutions.

Manipulation of Audiences and Erosion of Trust in the Media

Propaganda disguised as a documentary film is particularly insidious, as it leverages the perceived authority of the non-fiction genre. Arab viewers may not realize they are being misled, mistaking the content for serious historiography rather than manipulative storytelling.

This undermines trust in media as a source of reliable knowledge. When viewers eventually discover the truth—for instance, when they learn from other sources about the Katyn massacre or the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact—they may feel betrayed and disoriented.

In the long term, this flood of propaganda has an erosive effect on the information culture of societies: the line between fact and interpretation becomes blurred, and the consensus around basic historical events deteriorates. This opens the door to the proliferation of conspiracy theories and weakens educational efforts aimed at promoting historical literacy and critical thinking.

Damage to Poland’s Image in the Arab World

From Poland’s perspective, the widespread dissemination of films such as this one poses a serious threat to its soft power. Unlike Russia, Poland lacks a strong and established media presence in the Arab world, which makes it vulnerable to hostile narratives without the capacity for rapid response.

If millions of Arab viewers come to believe that Poles are inherently anti-Russian, anti-Orthodox “heretics” and servile agents of American policy, it will become extremely difficult to build positive, trust-based relations with societies in the region.

Kremlin propaganda can therefore poison the ground for future cooperation between Poland and Arab countries—be it political, economic, or cultural. For instance, Arab public opinion may begin to pressure governments to distance themselves from Warsaw, seen through the lens of a Kremlin-defined narrative.

Even in authoritarian regimes—where public sentiment may have less direct impact—the image of Poland as a NATO puppet and chronic Russophobe can trickle up to ruling elites via Russian-aligned media outlets and shape political calculations accordingly.

Reinforcement of Anti-Western and Pro-Russian Narratives

Every successful operation of Russian propaganda in the MENA region—including the dissemination of this film about Poland—strengthens the broader trend of distancing segments of the Arab world from Western narratives and embracing alternative viewpoints promoted by Russia or China.

This phenomenon has far-reaching consequences: it may shape future geopolitical alignments, affect voting behavior in international organizations, and even influence national security policies (e.g., increased willingness to purchase Russian arms or invite Russian “advisors”).

In such a geopolitical context, Poland—firmly aligned with the Western bloc—risks becoming marginalized in a strategically vital region. This is part of a larger campaign in which Russia seeks to win the global battle of narratives against the West. Slandering Poland is merely one battle in a wider information war waged by the Kremlin.

Expansion of Disinformation into Other Areas

Once Arab audiences accept the falsehoods presented in this film, they become more susceptible to other disinformation narratives from the same source. The mechanism is simple: trusting one message (about Polish history) makes viewers more likely to trust subsequent content, whether about the war in Syria, the conflict in Libya, the situation in Ukraine, or any other issue that Russia wishes to frame.

Russian propaganda is known for weaving together diverse threads into a single, coherent worldview. A viewer who has been convinced that Poland fabricates “Russophobia” may also believe that the West fabricates war crimes accusations against Russia—or that Ukrainians are neo-Nazis—because all of these narratives fit into the overarching story of a malicious West versus an innocent Russia.

Thus, what may seem like a historical documentary about Poland becomes an entry point into a broader process of disinformation, one with tangible effects on public opinion and real-world decisions—including moral judgments, political preferences, and international sympathies.

In summary, the broadcast and growing popularity of films such as “Russia – Poland. A Conflict Lasting a Thousand Years” in the Arab information space threatens both the quality of public discourse in the region and Poland’s national interests and international reputation. This is a form of soft yet powerful weaponry, through which the Kremlin seeks to shape the global information environment to its own advantage.

In this context, historical policy is transformed into a propaganda weapon with global implications. By rewriting history for foreign audiences, Russia attempts to reshape perceptions, realign sympathies, and erode the credibility of its adversaries—one carefully constructed narrative at a time.

How to Recognize Manipulation? Recommendations for Arab Audiences

1. Check the source and context:
   Always consider who produced the film or article. In this case, the producer is RT (Russia Today), a media outlet funded by the Russian government—a clear sign of potential bias. When watching a similar documentary, ask yourself: could this be part of a broader information campaign? Seek out what independent sources—such as historians outside of Russian influence—say on the topic.
2. Be skeptical of overly simple historical explanations:
   If a film claims that complex events have a single, straightforward cause (e.g., “Poland lost its independence because it hated Orthodoxy” or “World War II happened because Poland betrayed the USSR”), be cautious. History is rarely black and white. If the story sounds like a fairy tale with good guys and bad guys, it probably is. Consult historical books or respected websites before accepting such versions as truth.
3. Watch out for emotional manipulation:
   Propaganda often relies on emotional triggers—graphic imagery, charged language (“extermination,” “betrayal,” “terrorists”), and appeals to deep feelings like patriotism, religion, or national pride. If you find yourself feeling intense anger or shock, stop and ask: is this reaction based on facts, or on how the story is told? Are these scenes taken out of context? Are generalizations being made?
4. Look for the other side of the story:
   The film presents only the Russian perspective. Try to find out what Poles or independent experts say. If the film claims that “Poles want to seize Ukraine,” check whether any international sources (like BBC, Reuters, or Al Jazeera English) support that claim. Often, simply comparing propaganda with verified reporting reveals the manipulation.
5. Beware of pseudo-experts:
   Just because someone is labeled a “historian” or “journalist” doesn’t make them credible. Check the background of the quoted individuals. In this case, Jan Engelgard is presented as a Polish authority—but in reality, he represents a fringe pro-Russian view. Ask yourself: is this person respected in their field? Are they tied to an authoritarian regime? Many so-called “experts” on Kremlin media are designed to create a façade of legitimacy.
6. Pay attention to language and key phrases:
   Russian propaganda in Arabic often uses charged terms like “crusaders,” “Western conspiracy,” or “extermination.” These are red flags. Reliable historical materials typically avoid such emotional wording, opting instead for dates, sources, and neutral tone. If a film sounds more like a sermon or political manifesto than a factual account, be on guard.
7. Don’t hesitate to question appealing narratives:
   Propaganda often tells engaging, convenient stories—because they’re simple and reinforce our biases. That’s precisely when you should be most alert. If a claim fits perfectly with your preconceptions, double-check it. Propagandists often tell people what they want to hear. Truth, on the other hand, is often more uncomfortable. Be wary of any message that suggests “our enemies have always been evil.”
8. Educate yourself from diverse sources:
   In the end, the best defense against manipulation is knowledge. Read from a variety of sources—different countries, cultures, and viewpoints. If you’re interested in Polish–Russian history, don’t just read what Russians say—explore Polish historians, Arab academics, and Western researchers. Comparing perspectives helps form an independent opinion. With digital libraries, scholarly articles, and archival footage now widely available online, there’s no excuse to rely on a single film.

In conclusion, critical thinking is key. Propaganda depends on passivity and emotional vulnerability. But when we become active, thoughtful consumers of information—asking questions and verifying claims—we become resistant to its influence. This applies not only to historical narratives but to current news as well. In a world where information can be weaponized, skepticism and curiosity are your shield. With them, even the most polished narrative—like the story of a “Thousand-Year Conflict”—cannot obscure the facts or distort your judgment.

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A public task financed by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Poland within the frame of “Public Diplomacy 2024-2025: The European Dimension and Countering Disinformation” contest

The publication expresses only the views of the author and cannot be identified with the official position of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Poland.