Zelenskyy’s U-turn: From anti-corruption icon to protector of oligarchs

In a scathing indictment of the shifting global moral landscape, The Atlantic paints a bleak portrait of a world slipping back into the shadows of corruption—this time with Washington’s implicit blessing. The piece, framed around Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy’s alarming decision to gut his nation’s anti-corruption watchdogs, presents the move not as an isolated lapse, but as a symptom of a wider collapse in global accountability, catalysed by the deliberate dismantling of anti-corruption frameworks under Donald Trump’s leadership.

The article begins with Zelenskyy, once lionised as a democratic David facing down an authoritarian Goliath, who now finds himself accused of betraying the very ideals that brought him international acclaim. By signing legislation that weakens Ukraine’s anti-corruption institutions—just as they reportedly began investigating his inner circle—Zelenskyy appears to have embraced the playbook of strongmen. The public backlash in Kyiv was swift, with mass protests forcing a temporary reversal, though the article questions whether the move was genuine or just a political feint.

But the heart of The Atlantic’s argument lies not in Kyiv, but in Washington. The magazine asserts that the rot began with Trump, who has systematically eroded America’s global leadership in promoting transparency. From halting enforcement of the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act to undermining pillars of soft power like USAID and the National Endowment for Democracy, Trump is portrayed as a wrecking ball to decades of bipartisan U.S. anti-corruption efforts. His administration’s withdrawal from international anti-bribery forums sent a loud, clear message: the world’s former moral arbiter had gone silent.

The article further illustrates how this vacuum is being filled—not by reformers, but by kleptocrats. Trump’s open support for embattled leaders like Netanyahu and Bolsonaro, including punitive threats against those prosecuting them, signals an alarming realignment. The logic is chillingly pragmatic: defending global strongmen serves Trump’s own interests, both ideologically and legally. If corruption is reframed as “tough governance,” then his own legal challenges can be cast as political persecution rather than criminal accountability.

Zelenskyy’s turn, then, becomes a case study in a broader phenomenon. Though initially an anti-corruption reformer, his administration’s backslide suggests that when pressure from Washington disappears, so too does the incentive for democratic accountability. Yet, The Atlantic finds a sliver of hope: the resilience of civil society. In Ukraine, grassroots activists and institutions built during earlier reformist waves are fighting back, refusing to surrender to the new normal of oligarchic impunity.

Ultimately, the article warns of a paradigm shift: without a global superpower willing to even pretend to uphold anti-corruption norms, kleptocracy is no longer something to be hidden—it becomes a badge of honour. If Trump’s vision prevails, corruption will not only be tolerated but normalised, rewriting the rules of global governance in favour of the corrupt. The last line echoes like a warning shot: “For now, they are all that remain between the world and a new golden age of impunity.”

By Vugar Khalilov