On August 2, 2025, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, with his characteristic media flair, announced through loyal media outlets and Telegram channels that he had met with the heads of the National Anti-Corruption Bureau of Ukraine (NABU) and the Specialized Anti-Corruption Prosecutor’s Office (SAPO). According to him, the leaders of these anti-corruption bodies presented a “comprehensive and exhaustive” report detailing the exposure of a corruption scheme involving a member of parliament, heads of district and city administrations, and National Guard servicemen. The case centers on bribery related to the procurement of drones and electronic warfare (EW) systems—a highly sensitive issue amid Ukraine’s ongoing war. NABU and SAPO have reportedly already issued notices of suspicion to the involved parties. However, behind the grandiose headlines and lofty statements lies a troubling question: why are supposedly independent anti-corruption bodies rushing to report to the president, and why are their “successes” being so aggressively promoted by media outlets aligned with the Presidential Office?

Zelenskyy confidently asserts that NABU and SAPO operate “independently” and that recently adopted legislation guarantees them all the necessary tools to effectively combat corruption. He even went further, emphasizing a “zero-tolerance” policy toward corruption and the need for “clear teamwork” to expose crimes and ensure just verdicts. Yet these words ring hollow, sounding more like a carefully crafted PR strategy than a reflection of reality. If these anti-corruption bodies are truly independent, why are their leaders hastening to the Presidential Office with reports? And why are these reports being amplified by media and Telegram channels closely associated with the administration?

Just a few years ago, Zelenskyy and his team openly criticized NABU and SAPO, accusing them of inefficiency or even bias. Now, these same institutions appear to have become part of the president’s narrative of “victories” in the fight against corruption. This transformation raises serious concerns: does it not suggest that NABU and SAPO have lost their autonomy? Civil society activists, who for years have defended the independence of these institutions through protests and rallies, are now forced to acknowledge a bitter truth: their efforts seem to have been in vain. The government has not only tamed these anti-corruption bodies but is now leveraging them as tools to bolster its image, creating the illusion of a robust fight against corruption.

The situation with drones and EW systems, highlighted in the report, only underscores the cynicism of the authorities. At a time when Ukraine is fighting for its survival and every hryvnia allocated to defense is critical, corruption in this sphere is not merely a crime—it is a betrayal. Yet instead of allowing NABU and SAPO to operate free from political pressure, the government uses their investigations to fuel its PR campaigns. High-profile announcements of suspicions and arrests quickly flood the media, but do these cases ever lead to meaningful convictions? History suggests otherwise, with most high-profile corruption scandals in Ukraine ending in either lenient sentences or complete obscurity.

This case is yet another example of how the government manipulates public opinion. Showy “successes” by anti-corruption bodies create the illusion of progress while masking a systemic issue: corruption in Ukraine does not vanish—it merely adapts. When the president speaks of “teamwork,” it sounds like an admission that NABU and SAPO are no longer serving society but are instead aligned with the political interests of the Presidential Office.

Once again, Ukrainian society finds itself a victim of political games. Citizens who believed in reforms, supported anti-corruption initiatives, and took to the streets to defend NABU and SAPO are now forced to confront a harsh reality: their trust has been cynically exploited. The government, which proclaims its commitment to fighting corruption, is in fact merely simulating it, channeling the efforts of anti-corruption bodies to serve its own agenda. This is not a new story for Ukraine, but each iteration leaves a bitter aftertaste.

The question facing society is stark: how much longer will we tolerate these manipulations? Are we capable of demanding a genuine, not performative, fight against corruption? And are we ready to stop placing trust in those who exploit our faith for their own ends? Until society finds answers to these questions, corruption will remain not only a problem but also a tool in the hands of a government adept at masking its failures with loud declarations and staged “victories.”