The Verkhovna Rada of Ukraine is experiencing a profound crisis of competence, exacerbated by shadow financial schemes. The current convocation of parliament is filled with individuals who found themselves in power through a fluke of circumstances, and their motivation is now reduced to the fastest possible personal enrichment. According to experts, many people's deputies are simply incapable of managing state processes, and their loyalty is secured by regular supplementary payments "in envelopes."
As reported by Hvylya, energy and infrastructure expert Oleg Popenko stated this during an interview published on the PopenkoPro YouTube channel.
Analyzing the composition of parliament, Popenko notes that a significant portion of deputies are people who, before entering power, had very modest incomes and lacked management experience. Finding themselves at the top of the political Olympus, they failed the test of money and power. The expert emphasizes that about 30% of the Verkhovna Rada's membership consists of "vidosiki" (video-makers)—people incapable of realizing the responsibility of their position.
"This is a generation of people incapable of understanding anything... They are not even able to manage their own base instincts. Well, you have money, so what, are you a killer or something? You felt that in a poor country you earn twenty grand a month and that's it? But you are earning today, and 5 years will pass—you won't be earning, you'll go to jail," Popenko says, describing the lawmakers' psychology.
A separate topic of discussion was the system of shadow remuneration for deputies. Despite statements from anti-corruption authorities (NABU and SAP) regarding facts of "envelope" salary payments, specific sources of funding are not officially named. Popenko claims that the money for these payments is generated through tariff hikes and schemes at state enterprises such as Energoatom and Ukrenergo. The amounts vary depending on the deputy's status: rank-and-file members receive bonuses of $10,000–$20,000, while committee chairs receive up to $50,000 per month.
At the same time, the expert notes a paradoxical degradation in the "cost" of a deputy compared to previous convocations. While 10–15 years ago the entry ticket to high-level corrupt politics was significantly more expensive, deputies have now "shrunk" and are ready to follow any instructions for much smaller sums.
"Previously, the starting salary of a people's deputy, not a committee chair, was in the range of $100,000, and I wouldn't agree to less... But now it's like this: come here, fetch that, just don't get in everyone's way," Popenko compares.
Summarizing the situation, the expert characterizes the behavior of current political elites as living in expectation of a catastrophe. Unrestrained in their means, officials and deputies try to take the maximum from their positions in the shortest possible time.
"They are having their last day of Pompeii. Those who are in politics now live by the principle of the last day of Pompeii," Oleg Popenko concluded.