President Volodymyr Zelenskyy has signed into law a controversial bill that strips Ukraine’s main anti-corruption bodies of their institutional independence, prompting the first widespread protests against his administration since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion.
The legislation, Bill No. 12414, was passed and enacted with unprecedented speed. Adopted by 263 votes in the Verkhovna Rada—led by the President’s own Servant of the People party and supported by remnants of former pro-Russian factions—the bill was signed into law by Zelenskyy the same day. The process bypassed substantive public debate and appeared to disregard both domestic sentiment and international expectations.
Under the new law, the Prosecutor General is empowered to direct investigations by the National Anti-Corruption Bureau (NABU), reassign cases, and override the decisions of the Specialised Anti-Corruption Prosecutor’s Office (SAPO). Both institutions, established in 2015 with the strong backing of Western allies, are now effectively subordinated to the political executive.
The move has been met with alarm. Demonstrations broke out across major cities—Kyiv, Lviv, Odesa, Dnipro, and Sumy—with protestors calling the legislation a betrayal of the Revolution of Dignity. That movement, which cost dozens of lives in 2014, demanded a European path for Ukraine, of which the creation of NABU and SAPO was a key condition. Their independence symbolised Ukraine’s commitment to building a modern, rules-based state.
Demonstrations broke out across major cities—Kyiv, Lviv, Odesa, Dnipro, and Sumy
The speed and manner of the law’s adoption have raised concerns among observers, who see it as a serious misjudgement by the government. For the first time since 24 February 2022, the streets of Ukrainian cities have filled not only with patriotic slogans or mourning, but with dissent directed at the government’s conduct. Critics say it was not just the content of the reform, but the disregard for public trust, that provoked outrage.
The significance of the reform extends beyond symbolism. Anti-corruption remains a defining concern among Ukrainian citizens, rivalled only by the question of national survival. It is central to domestic expectations of post-war recovery, the integrity of public spending—including in the defence sector—and the country’s alignment with Western institutions.
By dismantling institutional safeguards without a clear assessment of NABU or SAPO’s performance, the government appears to many to have prioritised control over credibility. The consequences, critics warn, may extend well beyond domestic politics.
The United Kingdom, the European Union and G7 states have repeatedly linked financial and military assistance to the independence of Ukraine’s anti-corruption bodies. While the reaction from Washington under President Donald Trump remains uncertain—his administration has shown little attachment to such institutions—European capitals are likely to take a stricter view. Many diplomats view the weakening of NABU and SAPO as a direct breach of Ukraine’s reform commitments.
Privately, several Western diplomats have expressed concern that Kyiv’s decision could complicate ongoing support packages and allow opponents—both within Europe and abroad—to question Ukraine’s integrity. The move also risks playing into longstanding narratives promoted by the Kremlin, which has consistently depicted Ukraine as irredeemably corrupt and unworthy of Western backing.
Criticism has not come solely from international actors. Domestic observers have noted that recent events—including a series of SBU raids on NABU staff, allegations of treason and corruption, and revived accusations against political activists—suggest a coordinated campaign to regain executive control over independent institutions. While some individual allegations may be well-founded, the logic of dismantling the system rather than prosecuting cases through it has raised eyebrows.
The consequences for public trust may be significant. In wartime, the legitimacy of government relies heavily on the perception of unity and accountability. Actions perceived as self-interested or authoritarian risk eroding the very cohesion that is essential for national resilience.
The deeper concern, voiced by analysts and former officials, is that the ruling party appears increasingly insulated from political risk. The absence of serious parliamentary opposition, the concentration of power in the executive, and the declining influence of international watchdogs have created an environment in which major decisions are taken with minimal scrutiny. Comparisons with Georgia’s slide into post-reform stagnation are no longer academic.
Ukraine, unlike some of its neighbours, does not have an Orbán-style figure to act as an ideological buffer against Western criticism. Nor can Kyiv afford further friction with Brussels or Washington. If the message now sent is that the anti-corruption reforms demanded by Ukraine’s allies are negotiable, Kyiv may find those allies less willing to absorb the costs of its war effort in the months ahead.
Zelenskyy’s decision to sign the law will be seen by many as a strategic misstep. At a time when unity is paramount, and when Ukraine’s place in the West is not yet secured, the government has acted in a manner that risks dividing its own society and undermining the very foundations of its international support. Whether this moment proves reversible remains to be seen. What is certain, however, is that the political distance between the government and the country’s most active citizens has just grown markedly—and in wartime, that is a dangerous development.
