Once a well-known member of Poland’s court system, Tomasz Szmydt has made news by leaving for Belarus and founding the Prawda Polska Foundation, a platform for advancing pro-Kremlin narratives. His departure in May of this year emphasizes not only human change but also the complex dance of geopolitical power among Poland, Belarus, and Russia.
Having access to confidential EU and NATO data while serving Warsaw’s Administrative Court, Szmydt laid the groundwork in Minsk with the declared intention of encouraging Slavic country collaboration. BelTA claims that the foundation’s objective is to expose corruption and the links of European and American politicians with intelligence services, which is a cover for disseminating Russian propaganda.
His goal to start a bilingual media outlet points to a more general approach to changing public opinion not just in Poland but all over Europe. This media endeavor is perceived as an attempt to make Kremlin’s narratives outside of Poland’s boundaries more prominent. Aiming to change public opinion about relations between Belarus, Russia, and Poland, his remarks to BelTA show a clear intention to use this forum for political influence.
Szmydt’s access to secret information has significant importance. His positions in the court system create serious security questions, especially in areas involving security clearances and confidential material. His quick career development inside the Ministry of Justice under the PiS government, culminating in high-level access, highlights the possible depth of the intelligence he would have been exposed to, which could now be at danger of exploitation by Russian or Belarusian agencies.
Szmydt’s narrative of seeking asylum due to political persecution in Poland is part of a broader strategy by Belarus to portray itself as a haven for those disillusioned with Western political systems.Szmydt later explained that he fled to Belarus to ‘protest to the Polish authorities who under the influence of the US and the UK are leading the country to war.’
But his participation in contentious events in Poland, particularly the “hater affair,” in which he was linked in attempts to discredit judges skeptical of government judicial reforms, undermines this story.
People have some doubts about the founding of the Prawda Polska Foundation. Experts such as Alexander Yarashevich foresaw its use by the Belarusian government as a propaganda instrument. Szmydt’s rapid absorption into Belarusian and Russian media circuits, where he has become a prominent pundit regularly spreading false information about the Russia-Ukraine war and criticizing Polish political figures, grounds this cynicism.
The response of the Polish government has been to accuse Szmydt of spying, with warrants issued for his arrest. But his unwillingness to go, citing safety and freedom of expression issues, presents a picture of a man who has decided to support a government that, according to detractors like Edit Zgut-Przybylska, might dismiss him once his value wanes.
This example also follows more general patterns of people who have access to sensitive material defecting to authoritarian governments, usually under the cover of political asylum, only to be tools for state propaganda. Another Polish defector to Belarus, Emil Czeczko, reminds us grimly of the possible outcomes of people who flee to such regimes.
From judge in Poland to propaganda agent in Belarus, Szmydt’s career exemplifies the complex interplay of personal ambition, political philosophy, and international espionage on Eastern Europe’s geopolitical geography. His activities call into question the security of secret knowledge in democratic countries and demonstrate how authoritarian governments may exploit such vulnerabilities for propaganda purposes.