The Anti-Corruption Cabaret
Inside Ukraine’s endless game of political pickpocketing
With the world's distracted fixation on the tedious and perilous theatrics between Israel and Iran, one might forgive the assumption that Ukraine's chaotic saga has quietly receded into irrelevance. It has not. Allow me, therefore, a brief but essential historical reprise before we continue.
In the rancorous aftermath of the 2014 coup—an affair plainly orchestrated and sanctified by Washington, bringing a democratically elected government violently to heel—the newly installed Kiev authorities were swiftly cajoled by their American patrons into erecting a veritable alphabet soup of anti-corruption bodies, each purportedly tasked with disinfecting Europe's most notoriously venal state. To wit:
NABU—the National Anti-Corruption Bureau—arrived in 2015, mandated to probe graft at the very apex of Ukrainian power. Hot on its bureaucratic heels came SAP, the Specialized Anti-Corruption Prosecutor’s Office, whose dubious privilege is prosecuting NABU's chosen culprits. Next, the GBR—the State Bureau of Investigation—an intriguing watchdog tasked curiously with surveilling the anti-corruption watchdogs themselves. And finally, NAZK—the National Agency for the Prevention of Corruption—largely ceremonial and obediently crafted to meet the fussy affiliation criteria set by the European Union, focusing primarily on the tedious task of monitoring the lavish lifestyles of officials.
One cannot escape the nagging suspicion that these agencies, staffed either through astonishing incompetence or deliberate cynicism, serve ends other than eradicating corruption. Indeed, NABU and SAP, the darlings of Washington’s persistent admonitions, are widely understood as American instruments of influence, while the GBR exists precisely to temper their reach. As for NAZK, its role appears chiefly decorative, a bureaucratic bow to European sensibilities.
Now enter Oleksiy Chernyshov, Ukraine's Deputy Prime Minister, former business confidant and personal financial adviser to Zelensky himself, recently graced by NABU with a "notice of suspicion"—a quaintly Ukrainian bureaucratic twilight zone, hovering uncertainly between accusation and charge. Chernyshov initially bolted but promptly returned, presumably recognizing that suitable hiding spots for a man of his prominence are distressingly scarce. But the nub of it is clear: NABU has deliberately targeted Zelensky's inner financial circle. For Zelensky, Chernyshov is best kept free, or at the very least, silent. Observers are invited to watch this space with heightened curiosity.
The allegations against Chernyshov are old news, dating from his tenure atop the state construction authority, where apartments were allegedly accepted as bribes. Chernyshov, often dubbed Zelensky's "wallet," is in truth more accurately cast as an executive accountant. The real wallet—Timur Mindich—saw the writing on the wall and fled Ukraine promptly. Though less conspicuous and more safely hidden abroad, his exile too will likely prove temporary. The question remains why NABU—essentially a Washington proxy—would now be nipping so dangerously at Zelensky’s financial heels.
Earlier this year, I ventured that the United States might pursue criminal probes against Zelensky’s coterie, though the current tactic—employing Ukrainian bodies to minimize overt meddling—makes impeccable sense. 1 The next move, logically, belongs to the GBR, Zelensky's pet agency, whose chief occupation seems compiling kompromat on the NABU agents themselves. Should NABU press on unchallenged, Washington will clearly have Zelensky cornered. Ukraine’s cynical elites have grasped the not-so-subtle message: standing proximate to the president may yield riches, but risks becoming deeply inconvenient. Henceforth, their ambition will shift from further pilfering—of which there has already been a surfeit—to the secure enjoyment of their ill-gotten gains, a pleasure contingent entirely upon American goodwill.
As to who might next face the spotlight, Andriy Yermak, Zelensky’s grey cardinal and current Chief of Staff, seems an inevitable candidate. Kiev wits now openly joke that Zelensky serves merely as Yermak’s autopen. Indeed, recent murmurs from Washington have underscored a long-standing antipathy toward Yermak, a sentiment extending beyond mere partisan politics into a profound distaste. 2 Yermak and Zelensky—both terrified of palace intrigues—have obsessively policed contacts between Ukrainian officials and Washington's mandarins. Witness Foreign Minister Kuleba's abrupt dismissal after excessive chumminess with Secretary Blinken.
Zelensky and Yermak, isolated and increasingly vulnerable, will cling desperately to their waning power. Removing them will require considerable effort—but that machinery is clearly now grinding forward.
Venik. "Exit Stage Left, Volodymyr." Let Me Tell You..., 3 Mar. 2025, venik.substack.com/p/exit-stage-left-volodymyr.
Mackinnon, Amy and Jamie Dettmer. "Washington has had it with Andriy Yermak." POLITICO, 20 June 2025, www.politico.com/news/2025/06/19/ukraine-andriy-yermak-frustrates-trump-administration-00414197.