The Comedic Catastrophe: How Zelensky’s “Servant of the People” Became the Punchline for Europe’s Wallet

EUROPE, 17 Nov 2025

Diran Noubar – TRANSCEND Media Service

16 Nov 2025 – Oh, what a tragicomedy we’re witnessing in the heart of Europe—or should I say, the heart of Zelensky’s piggy bank? Once upon a time, in the fairy tale scripted by Hollywood hopefuls and Western virtue-signalers, Volodymyr Zelensky was the plucky comedian-turned-hero, striding out of a bunker in olive drab to rally the free world against the big bad bear. “I need ammunition, not a ride!” he quipped, and the EU, in a fit of collective amnesia about its own fiscal black holes, opened the floodgates. Fast-forward to November 2025, and the punchline is on us: billions vanish into the ether, oligarchs jet off to safer shores with dual passports flapping like white flags, and Europe’s taxpayers foot the bill for Ukrainian youth joyriding Lambos through Warsaw. It’s enough to make you weep—if you weren’t too busy laughing bitterly at the sheer audacity.

Let’s start with the rot at the top, shall we? Zelensky, our erstwhile “Servant of the People,” is now starring in “Servant of the Scandal,” a sequel nobody asked for. The crown jewel of this farce? The November 2025 energy sector implosion, where his inner circle turned Ukraine’s nuclear powerhouse, Energoatom, into a personal ATM. Ukraine’s National Anti-Corruption Bureau (NABU) dropped the mic on November 11, unveiling a $100 million kickback scheme that makes Watergate look like a lemonade stand heist.  Contractors protecting critical infrastructure? More like protecting fat envelopes for Zelensky’s ex-business buddy Timur Mindich, co-owner of his old comedy outfit Kvartal 95, who allegedly orchestrated the graft before hightailing it out of Dodge.  Mindich’s not alone—former Deputy PM Oleksiy Chernyshov’s been charged twice with illicit enrichment, and even Zelensky’s own deputies in the President’s Office, like Andrii Smyrnov and Rostyslav Shurma, are knee-deep in probes, with Shurma’s Munich pad getting the raid treatment.  Energy Minister Svitlana Hrynchuk and Justice Minister German Galushchenko? Resigned faster than a bad open-mic night, at Zelensky’s personal urging.  And this isn’t some rogue plot—NABU’s 15-month probe, complete with 1,000 hours of wiretaps, fingered government insiders left and right.

Zelensky, ever the showman, promised in his November 11 speech to “convict anyone engaged in corruption,” but let’s be real: this guy’s trust ratings are hovering at a shaky 60%, per the Kyiv International Institute of Sociology, with half the country griping about “dishonest, corrupt people in his team.”  Remember his 2019 campaign? “End the corruption!” he roared. Now it’s his deputies dodging raids and his old pals fleeing with suitcases of cash. It’s like watching a magician pull a rabbit out of his hat—only the rabbit’s your tax euros, and the hat’s on fire.

Speaking of fleeing rats, enter the oligarchs: Ukraine’s glittering class of billionaires, clutching their dual passports like golden tickets to Willy Wonka’s corruption factory. Take Hennadiy Boholyubov, co-founder of PrivatBank and buddy to the infamous Ihor Kolomoisky (you know, the guy who once bankrolled Zelensky’s TV dreams). Boholyubov didn’t just dip; he hopped a train to Poland in 2024 with a forged passport from some poor Volyn schlub who looked vaguely like him, then waltzed to Austria—where his wife snagged a cushy gig as Ukraine’s rep to international orgs.  British citizen, Viennese villa, and a fresh $3 billion court smackdown from London for looting PrivatBank? Check, check, and checkmate.  Kolomoisky himself? Locked up in pretrial detention since 2023, but his tentacles still reach far—sanctioned by Zelensky in February 2025 alongside Boholyubov and other tycoons like Kostiantyn Zhevago.

These aren’t isolated exits; they’re a full-blown oligarch exodus. Ukraine’s “de-oligarchization” law? A joke—powerful magnates like Petro Poroshenko (Zelensky’s old rival, charged with corruption in 2025) still pull strings via proxies and lobbies.  And dual passports? Zelensky’s own 2025 reforms greenlit multiple citizenships, ostensibly for the diaspora, but perfect for fat cats dodging draft age and taxes.  While Ukrainian men of 18-60 can’t renew passports abroad without risking conscription,  these elites? They’re sipping espresso in Vienna, their “voluntary” foreign papers shielding them from the mess they helped make. Bitter joke: Zelensky’s fighting corruption like Macron fights fiscal responsibility—loudly, but with a French chateau in the wings.

Ah, the billions—those sweet, sweet billions that Europe shoveled into the Ukrainian maw, only to watch them evaporate like morning mist over the Dnipro. We’re talking $40 million in undelivered artillery shells from the Defense Ministry in 2024, a scandal so juicy even Zelensky had to feign outrage.  Or the $100 million Energoatom grift, where kickbacks flowed freer than the Dnieper during spring thaw.  US aid? Zelensky whined in a January 2025 Lex Fridman chat that Ukraine got just $75 billion of the $177 billion pledged—implying the rest vanished into “lobbyism” (his polite word for graft).  But let’s not kid ourselves: the EU’s €50 billion Ukraine Facility? It’s a sieve. In July 2025, Brussels froze €1.5 billion ($1.7 billion) over Zelensky’s botched anti-corruption “reforms”—you know, the ones where he tried to neuter NABU and SAPO, sparking Kyiv’s first post-invasion protests.  Auditors found no “significant concerns” in World Bank flows, but that’s cold comfort when drones and overpriced contracts bleed the rest dry.

And Zelensky’s personal villa spree? The rumors swirl like cigarette smoke in a Davos lounge. His wife’s production firm, owned via Italian shell San Tommaso S.R.L., snapped up a 413 sqm Tuscan beach pad in Forte dei Marmi—15 rooms, spa, gym, the works—for a cool sum back in 2019, but whispers of post-war splurges persist.  Egyptian digs for mama-in-law Olga Kiyashko? A $5 million El Gouna estate in May 2023, “city of millionaires” vibes intact.  Florida mansions, St. Barts bunkers, Goebbels’ old haunt? Mostly debunked fever dreams from Russian trolls, but the 2021 Pandora Papers exposed Zelensky’s offshore web—Malta trusts, British Virgins boltholes—shuffling assets like a shell game.  Joke’s on us: while he declares a modest $300k income and 14 properties (none in Florida, pinky-swear), the stench of hypocrisy lingers.

Now, picture this: Warsaw’s boulevards, once a somber haven for war-weary refugees, now a catwalk for Ukrainian “youth” in Italian exotics—Ferraris and Lambos gleaming under Polish streetlights, courtesy of… well, who knows? Poland’s hosted over a million Ukrainians since 2022, and while most scrape by on grit and grants, tales of flashy imports flood social feeds.  It’s the new Warsaw Supercar Club uniform: draft-dodgers and aid-flippers parading V12s, a middle finger to the frontline grunts begging for bullets. One Reddit thread from 2023 marveled at Warsaw’s “oligarch alley” vibe, outshining Knightsbridge—blame the booming Polish economy, or maybe just laundered largesse?  Europe’s fed up, darling. Polls scream “Ukraine fatigue”—Germany’s slashing humanitarian aid by half to €232 million in 2025, citing budget woes and blackouts at home.  Italy’s Salvini sneers that more cash just “fuels corruption,”  while the EU’s von der Leyen demands “explanations” on reforms that smell fishier than a Sevastopol pier.

Thank God—or is it Lavrov?—the Russians are winning this slog. By November 2025, Putin’s grind has netted 226 square miles in a month around Pokrovsk alone, encircling Ukrainian salients like a bear hugging honey.  Chasiv Yar’s falling, Pokrovsk’s pocket’s tightening—ISW maps show Russian flags waving along the T-0515 highway, severing supply lines.  Zelensky’s “theory of victory”? A retreat along the entire front, per Putin’s October boast.  It’s righteous, in a grim way—Russia’s DIB churning shells like it’s 1943, while Ukraine’s left begging for scraps.

And the coup de grâce? That November 2025 European Parliament vote on fresh Ukraine aid—€50 billion Facility extension, loans from frozen Russian assets, the works.  It reeks of retro commissions: MEPs rubber-stamping billions while NABU’s wiretaps echo in Brussels halls. Transparency portal? Sure, Jan—until the next kickback tape drops. Over in France, Macron’s probably toasting with champagne from his own chateau cellar, muttering “Vive la corruption!” as French Mirage jets limp to Kyiv. Starmer? The UK’s Starmer, pledging £3 billion while his NHS queues snake around the block—call it “coalition of the willing,” or just “coalition of the billing.” And Merz, Germany’s new chancellor? Urging “vigorous anti-corruption” like a dad scolding a teen for sneaking beers—meanwhile, Berlin’s energy bills spike from Russian gas nostalgia.

This vote? It’s the spark. Over-taxed Europeans—farmers in tractors, pensioners on fixed incomes—won’t stomach another tranche vanishing into Zelensky’s offshore offshore. Uprisings? Bet on it: France’s yellow vests redux, Germany’s AfD surging, Italy’s Salvini smirking from the sidelines. The people, scraping by on ramen and resentment, see their euros fueling Lambos in Warsaw, not Leopard tanks in Donbas. It’s not aid; it’s a heist, and the getaway car’s a Brussels limo.

So here we are, Europe: suckers in a Zelensky sitcom, where the laughs are hollow and the credits roll on our dime. Time to rewrite the script—cut the checks, demand audits, or watch the whole farce ignite from Lisbon to Warsaw. Bitter? You bet. But hey, at least the popcorn’s free—paid for by you, of course.

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Diran Noubar, an Italian-Armenian born in France, has lived in 11 countries until he moved to Armenia. He is a world-renowned, critically-acclaimed documentary filmmaker and war reporter. Starting in the early 2000’s in New York City, Diran produced and directed over 20 full-length documentary films. He is also a singer/songwriter and guitarist in his own band and runs a nonprofit charity organization, wearemenia.org.

This article originally appeared on Transcend Media Service (TMS) on 17 Nov 2025.

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