Phantom Elections Beat Real War—Or What You Would Rather Not Know About the 2026 Budget

Having travelled “3,000 kilometres across Ukraine” for free under a state programme run by the Ukrainian Railways, we have moved from Bad Station straight to Worse Junction.

Despite an unprecedented corruption scandal reaching the highest levels of power and touching the president’s circle directly. Despite the severe constraints on external financing in the years ahead. Despite mounting problems at the front. Despite an increasingly complex geopolitical environment. Despite everything, the country is confidently marching toward self-destruction. The state budget adopted by the parliament for the next year is a one-way ticket precisely there.

Of course, under no circumstances could we have financed a full-scale war on our own—and certainly not for several years. But that is no excuse for squandering money on anything and everything, abandoning the basic link between revenue and expenditure or giving up on economic development altogether. In the eyes of our donors, we now look like a borrower who, on the way to negotiate with debt collectors, buys a new iPhone, a massage bed and a Rolex, all on credit.

This is why the lofty calls by Finance Minister Serhii Marchenko to pass the budget “quickly and now because it sends a signal” are infuriating. We have long noticed the minister’s negligence in fulfilling his duties, but even negligence must have its limits. A wartime state budget is not a “signal,” not a bargaining chip, not a box to tick in negotiations with the IMF or anyone else. It is a document that either guarantees stability—and ideally supports development—or leads to imbalances and deficits. Our version is the second. So what exactly are we “signalling,” dear minister?

For example, that we do not have enough money for the war.

Analysts at the Centre for Economic Strategy have calculated that, despite annual nominal increases in spending since 2022, once inflation is accounted for, expenditures are actually shrinking: from ₴2.9 trillion in 2025 to ₴2.6 trillion in 2026.

Even if we choose to live in a fantasy world of absolute numbers and try to detach ourselves from rising prices, the reality remains: we plan to spend less than in previous years, including on the war, which constitutes half of all expenditures. Whereas defence spending totalled ₴1.7 trillion in 2023 and 2024 (adjusted for inflation) and ₴1.6 trillion in 2025, then in 2026 it will fall to just ₴1.3 trillion. The main cuts affect weapons procurement and repairs of military equipment. But of course, who needs weapons when you have pitchforks and rakes…

In other words, the logic is as follows: the financing we had this yea, stable and relatively secure, did not allow us to turn the tide of the war, so we’ll cut it by ₴300 billion and somehow win. A “signal”? A signal indeed…

Equally telling is the defeatist balance between military and civilian expenditures.
In 2023, 2024 and 2025, defence spending exceeded civilian spending by hundreds of billions (inflation-adjusted or not). In 2026, they are equal. We plan to spend the same amount on the war as on the rear.

And not on economic development or human capital (we analysed that in detail here and here), but on something completely random.

For example, on this:

• “3,000 km across Ukraine” for free by the Ukrainian Railways — ₴17 billion
• Free school meals for grades 5–11 — ₴14 billion
• “Winter support payment” — ₴10 billion
• “eOselia” not for IDPs — ₴11 billion
• “eNursery” — ₴9 billion
• National “cashback” — ₴6 billion
• Strategic communications — ₴4 billion
• “School Pack” — ₴1.2 billion
• Unified news TV marathon — ₴738 million

How do these fantasies align with reality? About as well as the “winter support payment” this year aligned with the fact that foster families and family-type children’s homes stopped receiving their due payments in July.

We would happily believe the fairy tale that the government knows something we do not and that this is all a signal of a rapid return to peaceful life.

But we know our government far too well; this is a government in which literally just a handful of people are actual professionals, and none of them (a punishment for our sins) are responsible for the financial issues.

We know our enemy even better—one who, though dragging our self-important Atlantic partner into yet another round of meaningless talks, is in reality merely buying time to kill as many Ukrainians as possible.

And we know our president best of all, who, come hell or high water, thinks first and foremost about elections, not about the war.

Mr. President, take heed: your second term left for Israel together with Mindich, and neither of them is coming back. None of these “winter payments”, “TV marathons”, “cashbacks” or free kilometres of other populist nonsense will conceal the obvious: you are covered in “Mindichgate” from head to toe; since 2022, you silently tolerated corruption in the Energoatom state energy enterprise; and your better half (not Andrii Yermak) has been well aware of every episode of the Dynasty series, despite her quite young age. You don’t win elections with that kind of baggage. Even less so—with a lost war.

With those stains on your tactical sneakers, you will barely get inside your European partners’ offices. Which is a major problem: our freshly adopted budget is catastrophically deficit-ridden, and unlike previous years, as of December 2025 we have absolutely no idea who will provide the funds to cover roughly half of that deficit. We’re talking about $45 billion, of which only $25.8 billion has been secured so far: $11 billion from the G7, $10 billion from the EU, $2.3 billion from the UK, $2.2 billion from the IMF and smaller amounts from others.

Where, then, are the $8 billion from the IMF and the reparations-backed loan from immobilized Russian assets?

The new IMF programme must first be approved. Second, it is four-year, so eight divided by four is just two billion per year. Third, it is entirely possible that all new financing under it will go towards repayment of our current debts. Debts which, by the end of 2026, will exceed 106% of GDP and total nearly ₴11 trillion.

As for the reparations-backed loan, it remains highly uncertain. Our domestic “guardians of financial stability” rather lightly promote the myth that without the IMF there will be nothing: no EU funding, no G7 funding, no reparations loan. While that may be true, the reverse is not. Having an IMF programme does not guarantee any other source of finance. And judging from recent statements by the European Central Bank, reparations funding should not be expected in the foreseeable future. In fact, given that peace proposals are being drafted by people like Usha­kov and Dmitriyev, we may well end up paying reparations to the aggressor for, say, destroyed oil refineries.

Thus, the lack of Western support to cover this year’s needs is issue number one. If it is not resolved, it does not matter how much the government allocates for capital expenditure, teachers’ salaries or childbirth benefits; none of it, nor anything else, will have funding. Despite the incompetence and populism of the current government, we still believe that military needs will be financed first and without delay.

In turn, this means we must seek and request a whooping sum of nearly $20 billion (around ₴850 billion). In so doing, we should argue not from the position of loans or charity, but of payment for security services—services our people have been heroically providing the Western world for four years, fighting an enemy far larger both in population and military spending. Through their sacrifice, Ukrainians are buying time for allies to shift from “disarmament” to actual rearmament, not just in words. Arguably, there’s much to discuss.

Yet in these negotiations, as in all others, we are hostages to our president—to the trail of dirt he carries behind him, and to the absurdities his government inserted into our state budget solely for electoral reasons. The entire budget process, from the first draft to yesterday’s final vote, did not provide even the slightest hint that we are treating our financial future with care or frugality.

No matter how brightly our heroism and sacrifice shine, set into this context they look like a Rolls-Royce badge glued onto a Lanos.

“We desperately need funding for next year!”
“But you’re spending billions on the TV marathon and strategic communications.”

“We urgently need money for salaries and social security payments!”
“But you’re handing out cash for the ‘winter payment’ and ‘cashback’.”

“We critically need funding for pensions and support for IDPs!”
“Then perhaps take it from the ‘School Pack’, the school meals reform or the ‘eNursery’ programme.”

“There is no money for military salaries; everything is collapsing!”
“Then chip in for the free 3,000 kilometres travel program and move closer to the western border.”

***

Volodymyr Zelenskyy is not simply losing balance—he is tumbling headfirst into an abyss and has grabbed onto the illusion of phantom elections as his only handhold.

It is understandable. Everything is collapsing: from his cosy circle of cronies and familiar schemes to parliamentary support, where the only remaining allies are Dovira and the Platform for Life factions. Around him are people of the “old guard”—not very bright, but absolutely loyal—with more than enough daggers to stage a Caesar-like finale. Among his managers, as a result of years of reverse selection, there are now neither highly qualified professionals nor even basic specialists. Among allies—none left who would still feel admiration, respect or gratitude akin to the first years of the full-scale invasion. And on top of that is the frontline.

Mr. President, come to your senses. The admiration and respect of the entire world—those things that convinced you of your own omnipotence—were meant for all of us, not for you personally. So as you slide into the pit you have dug for yourself, do not drag the country down with you—at least out of gratitude.