When Anti-Corruption Courts Become Tools to Shield the “Untouchables”

At a time when ordinary Ukrainians face the unrelenting force of the law for even the smallest missteps, the political elite tied to Petro Poroshenko, Ukraine’s fifth president, perform a virtuoso dance between the raindrops. They don’t just “resolve” their issues—they brazenly and ostentatiously demonstrate that the justice system exists for them in a parallel, far more comfortable dimension.

Vadim Hryhorovych Nesterenko is no mere former MP from the Petro Poroshenko Bloc. He is a man who forged a veritable feudal fiefdom in the Dnipropetrovsk region. His “agrarian empire” rose from the ashes of destroyed farms, forcibly wrested from their rightful owners. In Novomoskovsk (now renamed Samar), Nesterenko’s name still sends shivers down people’s spines—so unbearable was the reign of terror he and his thuggish entourage imposed.

“Every prosecutor and every judge knew: Nesterenko’s matters were untouchable,” says a local activist, who, fearing reprisals, asked to remain anonymous.

Nesterenko’s audacity only grew over the years. Accustomed to impunity, he decided that even the mayor of the capital was a figure he could “buy.” Yet, unlike many other officials, Kyiv Mayor Vitali Klitschko refused to play this dirty game and reported the bribery attempt to law enforcement.

And that’s when the real “circus with horses” began—a vivid demonstration of how Ukraine’s “special justice for the chosen” operates.

On March 1, 2025, the High Anti-Corruption Court (HACC) issued a ruling that laid bare the sham of Ukraine’s so-called “fight against corruption.” The court hearing in Nesterenko’s case was suddenly closed to the public. Shamelessly and cynically, the judge shut down live broadcasts and expelled journalists from the courtroom.

What happened? Was national security at stake? Perhaps a state secret was involved? No! Nesterenko’s lawyers simply claimed the need to verify the authenticity of a recording capturing his attempt to bribe Klitschko. And that was enough to instantly cloak the entire process in secrecy!

This is outrageous and unprecedented: the judge made the decision almost lightning-fast, without a hint of hesitation—as if he’d been prepped in advance. Doesn’t this smack of a carefully scripted plan? It’s painfully clear that the “Poroshenko vertical” still operates flawlessly when it comes to saving “one of their own.”

Vadim Nesterenko is just the tip of the iceberg. He stands as a glaring symbol of how the political elite from Poroshenko’s team continues to exploit the state system for their own gain. Corruption scandals involving the fifth president’s inner circle never seem to end in real convictions. Cases drag on for years, fall apart, or devolve into pitiful parodies of justice.

“For an ordinary Ukrainian, attempting to offer a 500-hryvnia bribe leads to immediate arrest and a real prison sentence. For a Poroshenko ally, attempting a million-hryvnia bribe is grounds to close the trial and start hunting for ‘procedural violations,’” remarks an anti-corruption lawyer.

Nesterenko’s attorneys, without a shred of shame, cry “extrajudicial pressure”—this, despite a clear audio recording of the bribery attempt! Such a claim is the height of cynicism, yet it works in a system where judges are ready to entertain even the most absurd arguments, provided they come from the “right people.”

A closed trial isn’t just a technical decision. It’s a blatant attempt to hide the truth from the public, sweep the evidence under the rug, and quietly derail a high-profile case behind closed doors.

Is it a coincidence that members of the Petro Poroshenko Bloc so frequently find themselves at the center of corruption scandals yet so rarely face consequences? Hardly. The systemic impunity established during Poroshenko’s presidency didn’t vanish when he left office. This corrupt network continues to function, shielding “its own” from genuine accountability.

Closing the Nesterenko trial isn’t just a procedural move. It’s a slap in the face to every Ukrainian who believed in judicial reform and the creation of an independent anti-corruption court. It’s a demonstration that, for the political elite, the law is merely a tool to be bent and tailored to their needs.

While ordinary citizens face the full rigor of the law for every infraction, representatives of the former regime continue to live by their own rules. Most shameful of all, the very institutions tasked with combating this phenomenon are becoming complicit in it.

The Nesterenko case isn’t just another corruption scandal. It’s a diagnosis of Ukraine’s entire anti-corruption system—a system that operates selectively and recoils from the light of public scrutiny when it comes to truly influential figures.