The Chernyshov Phenomenon

We live in a world entirely different from the one we were used to. And we have no idea what this new world truly is.

In wartime, processes that used to drag on for decades now move at lightning speed. The same applies to the careers of public figures: today someone is spoken of as a future prime minister, a special Ministry of Unity is created just for him — and a year later, he’s at the center of a high-profile corruption case. Sometimes it may even turn out, unexpectedly, that the notion of “reputation” has begun to take shape in real Ukrainian politics — still faint, more a possibility or a probability than something solid. But already there is every reason to say that one person’s public image has been irreversibly destroyed. And the case of Vice Prime Minister Chernyshov is a striking example of this.

At first glance, looking at the entire corruption case against the so-called Minister of Unity (the further this phrase goes with Chernyshov’s name, the stranger it sounds), there seems to be no sign of any functioning reputation mechanism at all. He almost fled the country (only to be brought back), he appeared at the High Anti-Corruption Court for the bail hearing only on the second attempt, he was not removed from office, and bail was paid for him (by people who themselves did not know what exactly they were paying for — but the money was paid). So where is the end of a public official’s career that usually follows such scandals?

But if you dig deeper, that downfall is already obvious. In six months as Minister, Chernyshov attracted less media coverage than he did in just two weeks after it became clear that the NABU would serve him with suspicion papers. Many Ukrainians — both inside the country and abroad — had never even heard his name, though he held a position that was, in theory, significant and relevant to many. Now, however, his name is known by hundreds of thousands, if not millions.

Who knows how many Ukrainians Chernyshov actually managed to bring back to Ukraine through his work — for most people, what mattered was that he, albeit reluctantly, brought himself back. There was plenty of irony in that expectation. Few believed he would return, just as few now believe he will be removed from office or that the case will actually reach court. But we have seen this before, and we are prepared for it. So what makes this different? Where does reputation come in?

The nuance is that, publicly speaking, Chernyshov is now, most likely, a political corpse. His future in government or in a large state enterprise, such as Naftogaz, which he previously headed, is currently out of the question. And that is particularly striking when you remember that just a year or two ago, he was seriously tipped as a possible prime minister, so favorably was he regarded in the Presidential Office, according to rumors.

So, in a short time, Chernyshov went from potential head of government to an official suspected of corruption — someone who had to be persuaded, or perhaps forced, by the president’s inner circle to return from abroad, whose ministry now appears set to be quietly dissolved or merged with another, less than a year after it was created. And Chernyshov’s own future looks ghostly: maybe they will hand him some embassy post, maybe they will let him “quietly disappear into the woods.”

But the public and the media will not allow it. This story will not be forgotten, just as the country has not forgotten another old no-name, Nasirov (though he certainly wishes it had). Chernyshov may even end up sharing Nasirov’s fate more directly, with no chance to slip away quietly if the NABU and the SAPO continue to do their job properly and prove they had good reason to make this scandal public. Public rumor works: when people hear Chernyshov’s name, they recall the suspicion and everything that came with it.

Another important point is that Chernyshov is perhaps the closest figure to the current ruling circle to actually be served a corruption suspicion. Those who claim he is the highest-ranking official to get such a “title” are wrong — the former head of the Supreme Court, Kniaziev, was much higher in the hierarchy. But Kniaziev was an outsider to this administration; Chernyshov is undoubtedly an insider. And now it is impossible to hide this, hush it up, or pretend nothing happened — it did happen. The livestream of the High Anti-Corruption Court’s bail hearing drew hundreds of viewers, while news of the hearing and its results reached tens of thousands. They will keep reading about it for days, weeks, and months to come.

Of the “big fish” of this kind, Chernyshov may be the first, but he likely won’t be the last. Ukrainians who live each day with the injustice of not knowing whether they will wake up the next morning after another enemy missile strike crave justice wherever they can reach it. They cannot influence the investigation (which is good), or the court (which is also good) — but they can brand a minister who disgraced himself not so much with the suspicion but with everything that surrounded it. And they can kill his career. This is a side effect of such publicity, and it is already working. 

For now, it is hard to say how far this emerging reputation mechanism will actually go for Ukrainian public figures — the clearest test will come with the elections after the war. It is impossible to predict now what those elections will look like, what kind of society will vote, or who it will choose from. But I doubt Chernyshov’s name will be on that list. He may once have dreamed of being on such a list, but that chance is gone.

Perhaps the Chernyshov case is not a phenomenon but rather a signal of something bigger, a symptom of something larger. And when the curtain finally falls, the whole country may feel lighter. Of course, that is only wishful thinking — but who knows.