Last week, the Polish government finally released a report into the 2010 plane catastrophe, which killed President Lech Kaczyński and 95 others. It blames the accident mainly on the poor training of the pilots, and has since triggered the resignation of the Polish defence minister. Is that the end of the issue? Not a chance.

The debate regarding the Smolensk catastrophe long ago stopped revolving around the 96 people who lost their lives that day and the circumstances in which it occurred. Rather, the tragic event sparked off sociopolitical reactions, which have exposed and enhanced the deep cultural divisions existing within Polish society.

When Poles heard that a plane carrying the first couple, the country's top military commanders and leading politicians had crashed fatally in Russia while heading to the 70th anniversary ceremony of the Katyn massacre, their instinctive reaction was to rally around each other in a memorable demonstration of national unity.

Supporters and critics of Lech Kaczyński headed towards the presidential palace in Warsaw, singing songs, holding hands and lighting candles. For a few days, Poland was united. Three days, to be precise. Once they had passed, it was announced the Kaczyńskis would be entombed in Krakow's Wawel Cathedral, the resting place of Polish historical leaders. Many Poles were furious, insisting Lech Kaczyński's achievements didn't warrant a burial alongside Poland's greatest.

They rejected as "nonsense" the arguments of the archbishop of Krakow, Cardinal Stanisław Dziwisz, who said the late president had "died a heroic death because he was flying to Katyn to honour Polish martyrs in the name of the whole nation".

Some, including the solidarity legend Lech Wałęsa, even went as far as saying that the plane crash was Lech Kaczyński's own fault, as he had no doubt put pressure on the pilots to land in spite of adverse weather conditions, in order to get his photo opportunity at the Katyn ceremony. This in turn enraged supporters of the late president.

While the immediate reaction to the catastrophe showed that national identity and symbols are important to Poles, the ensuing events also revealed how strongly they differ when it comes to the values around which this identity should be built.

Supporters of the late president and the party he co-founded, Law and Justice (PiS), have a very clear vision on the issue. It is a vision shaped by values that can be described as nationalistic, messianistic and Catholic-centered.

For them, the Smolensk catastrophe was no coincidence, but another historical sacrifice for the nation, similar to the failed 1944 Warsaw uprising or the 1940 Katyn massacre. They consider these experiences unique to Poland and all historically linked recognition of which is the litmus test for Polish patriotism. This group makes up at least a third of the Polish population.

A second group – the majority – disagrees with this definition of patriotism but is not as cohesive in its views and doesn't have its own uniform opinion on what modern-day Polish patriotism should resemble. Many of them reject the celebration of events such as the 1944 Warsaw uprising, deeming it unpragmatic. "A senseless loss of lives, after all it was doomed to fail due to overwhelming German firepower," they argue. These Poles see what is labelled "the Polish martyrdom mentality" as an obstacle to Poland being able to flow in the political and intellectual mainstream of Europe and they are ashamed that such an image of the country has been created abroad.

What really binds them together is the fear of the "martyr group", currently led by Jarosław Kaczyński, leader of PiS and twin brother of the late president, running Poland. That's the main reason they support the prime minister, Donald Tusk, and his Civic Platform (PO) party, considering them the only force strong enough to keep the "fanatics" at bay.

Poland is not alone in having strong cultural divisions within its society, the existence of which is not a danger in of itself. What is worrying is the lack of tolerance these groups exhibit for each other. Both have their own political and literary elites who find it hard to conceal their contempt for the other side.

Jarosław Rymkiewicz, a famous poet and intellectual guru of the Kaczyński camp, said recently that the Polish nation has always been made up of two groups: patriots and collaborators. Then there is Stefan Niesiołowski, deputy speaker of parliament from PO, who once said "the Kaczyńskis are the source of all evil, especially Jarosław Kaczyński". Such rhetoric doesn't give one much hope for dialogue.

George W Bush once famously said "you are either with us or against us". The emotions triggered by the Smolensk catastrophe have led most Poles to openly declare which side they are on, thus voluntarily putting themselves in a box.

Politicians are quite happy to have people thinking in a box as they are then much more predictable and easier to manipulate. The truth is that the Smolensk catastrophe has benefitted the two major parties in Poland and they will continue exploiting the divisions it exposed and deepened for as long as Poles allow them to.