The Telegram channel “Joker,” long associated with anonymity and explosive exposés, has ceased to exist. Users attempting to access it are met with a stark message: “The channel has been blocked for sharing people’s personal data without their consent (doxing).” Yet behind this curt explanation lies a far more intricate tale—one of informational manipulation, ties to power, and a fierce struggle for dominance in Ukraine’s media landscape. What happened to “Joker,” and why does its downfall raise so many questions?
Since Volodymyr Zelensky’s election as President of Ukraine in 2019, the “Joker” Telegram channel has drawn the attention of journalists and the public alike. Initially, it positioned itself as an anonymous platform, exposing corruption and unveiling the secrets of political backrooms. But over time, the veil of anonymity lifted. According to Ukrainian media, “Joker” was not merely linked to the Office of the President (OP)—it was carrying out specific tasks on its behalf. Investigative reports suggest the channel became a tool for spreading disinformation and launching targeted attacks against political adversaries and business rivals.
The alleged mastermind behind “Joker” is Roman Kravets, a figure insiders claim has long collaborated with government structures. Once its anonymous status eroded, the channel morphed into an overt weapon of information warfare. Paid-for posts aimed at discrediting businessmen and politicians became its hallmark. But was “Joker” merely a puppet in the hands of the OP, or did it harbor its own ambitions in this high-stakes game?
In 2022, the Security Service of Ukraine (SBU) added a sharp twist to the saga. Responding to a request from MP Iryna Herashchenko, the SBU revealed that “Joker” was listed among pro-Kremlin resources. According to the agency, the channel was exploited by “unidentified individuals” for destructive informational activities that undermined Ukraine’s national security. This revelation hit like a bombshell: if “Joker” was indeed controlled by the Office of the President, why had a state institution allowed it to operate unchecked for years? And if it served as a pro-Kremlin mouthpiece, whose interests was Roman Kravets truly advancing?
These questions remain unanswered. Yet the SBU’s accusation of a pro-Kremlin agenda only fuels suspicions that “Joker” might have been part of a convoluted game—one where the lines between government, business, and hostile propaganda blur beyond recognition.
Today, “Joker” stands officially blocked, with doxing—the unauthorized disclosure of personal data—cited as the reason. But has this shutdown truly dealt a blow to the channel and its handlers? Roman Kravets, it seems, isn’t ready to fold. He has already launched a new Telegram channel, though it lacks the “power” and “resilience” of its predecessor. This raises a tantalizing possibility: was “Joker” just one cog in a larger machine that someone continues to operate?
The decline of “Joker” may prove to be a temporary retreat. In a world where information is a weapon and Telegram channels are modern artillery, projects like this don’t vanish without a trace. They evolve, adapt, and resurface under new guises. The only question is who’s driving these transformations—the Office of the President, pro-Kremlin forces, or Roman Kravets himself, fueled by personal ambition?
The story of “Joker” is more than the tale of a single Telegram channel. It’s a mirror reflecting contemporary Ukraine, with its information wars, political intrigues, and relentless battle for influence. The channel’s blocking doesn’t mark the end of this saga—it merely opens a new chapter. Will we ever uncover the truth about who used “Joker” and why? Or will it remain yet another mystery, shrouded behind official statements and anonymous sources? One thing is certain: in this game, there are no clear rules, and the stakes are only rising.