Mariusz Cieślik: Szymon Hołownia understood that politics is not a talent show

Ever since he burst into tears over the constitution, I stopped taking him seriously. Before, although I would never have considered Szymon Hołownia a serious political candidate, I had a lot of sympathy for him. This probably stemmed from the old days, the early 20th century, when we were colleagues at several newsrooms. As a journalist, columnist, and publicist, Szymon Hołownia could be brilliant and witty, and he also had a keen eye for interesting topics.

I followed Hołownia's later work with less interest. In the duo with Marcin Prokop, who was simply born for television, he was the weaker link. I had the distinct impression that he was more of a joker for his partner, who would have done just fine without him. The books about the Church, of which Szymon Hołownia produced a significant number, seemed too preachy, and the conclusions presented in them rather misguided. Today's Speaker of the Sejm played the role of a TVN Catholic, for whom the Ten Commandments didn't prevent him from being cool. The problem is, it's impossible. Because that's not what the commandments are for. Over time, to maintain his coolness, Hołownia began to become less and less Catholic, retreating from his former views on issues such as homosexual relationships. This, in turn, provided a good foundation for taking on the role of a politician.

Szymon Hołownia tried to please everyone. Now no one trusts him and no one likes him.

"You can't please everyone, but pissing everyone off is no problem," goes a well-known internet saying. In his new role, Szymon Hołownia tried to please everyone, so naturally, he ended up pissing everyone off. Of course, not all Hołownias are everyone. They're those who live in the same media bubble as him—which, as election after election proves, is less than half of Poles. They weren't bothered by the crying over the constitution, which, not only for me, was a performance that discredited Hołownia in his new role. But other things were more embarrassing. Above all, the two-time presidential candidate didn't understand what politics was all about. And when, after a particularly rude (even for him) post on Tomasz Lis's X page, he became "Kałownia," he fell into a cognitive stupor. Because how can he, a media darling, be attacked in this way? Meanwhile, that's precisely how you deal with those who refuse to conform in politics. Hołownia refused to agree to a joint list with Civic Platform in 2023, so the #StrongTogether party's entrenched supporters took him under their heels. As it later turned out, today's Speaker of the Sejm was right.

And the second issue. Szymon Hołownia confused popularity with real power. He's not the first person to enter politics from the world of culture or show business and not fully grasp the difference. Consider, for example, the cases of Paweł Kukiz or Manuela Gretkowska (the rightly forgotten Women's Party). For an artist or showman, popularity is an end in itself, for a politician, it's a means to power, and power is, after all, sanctioned violence. Szymon Hołownia was enamored with his bonmots and Sejmflix. Apparently, he thought it would always be this way, and in the name of that, he accepted legally questionable things, such as the stripping of immunity from pardoned PiS MPs. Then came the big "check" and the pressure—for I have no doubt there was some—to challenge the presidential election results. And then, for the first time, Szymon Hołownia, as a politician, showed his mettle. He could have followed the path of Adam Bodnar, who questioned his entire life's work as a lawyer with questionable moves. Fortunately, he had the sense to say "no." Today, his popularity is plummeting, and worse still, Jarosław Kaczyński praises him, which often proves to be the kiss of death. But he has gained experience that gives him a chance to achieve something in politics. Because he seems to be finally beginning to understand what it's all about.