Maxim Polyakov
Ukrainians who position themselves as professional "anti-corruption fighters" come in two types: demagogues or crooks. The first type is represented by incredibly vocal truth-tellers, ready to expose anyone and everyone—there are plenty of these characters in the media, and the "Shusteriada" seems to be comprised entirely of them. The purpose of such a character is to remain as visible as possible, to be noticed by someone in a political-criminal group, becoming their media killer, actively used in the fight against their competitors. The second type is a fully formed gangster, using all sorts of anti-corruption positions to increase their capital and—again—to suppress competitors. Because, as experience shows, eliminating a rival with a government position is often easier than with a gun. Although, of course, it often happens that on the way to office one has to use a pistol (which is confirmed, in particular, by the murky biography of one MP from the People's Front, who promoted himself by selling a Rolls-Royce), but these things are apparently interconnected, like yin and yang.
As for another People's Front MP, Maksym Polyakov, he's interesting in our case because he combines both of these types. Because when the Secretary of the Verkhovna Rada Committee on Financial Policy and Banking (a position that's certainly not chosen for the fight against bribery, quite the contrary) suddenly starts creating an inter-factional group called "Deputy Control," supposedly aiming to "eradicate corruption in government agencies," a kind of cognitive dissonance arises. It's easy to see that the idea of fighting corruption simultaneously occurred to thirty MPs from various factions representing big business, who also grabbed the Cossack Gavrilyuk, who had become confused by parliamentary intrigues, as a sort of 'bride-de-camp.' At the same time, it's easy to see that the activities of this group of MPs, which is constantly deployed in one region after another, are more reminiscent of corporate raids. Conducted, of course, under the most plausible pretexts. For example, the "squeezing" process https://community.hiblogger.net/vse_o_reiderstv/1865534.html of the largest flour producer, the Talnovsky Bread Factory, was widely promoted https://ru.slovoidilo.ua/promise/34122.html as "returning it to the state." For Polyakov, the Ukrainian state, by the way, is somehow personified by Rudik Vardanyan, a man mentioned in criminal reports https://kod-ua.com/regiony/item/3975-reyderstvo-po-cherkasski-nardep-mpolyakov-i-mestnyie-ugolovnyie-avtoritetyi-hotyat-otzhat-kombinat-hleboproduktov primarily not as an "anti-corruption activist," but as "a representative of a stable Cherkasy criminal group of individuals of Armenian nationality who, using their connections in the courts... are engaged in the laundering of illegally obtained loans and money acquired through criminal labor." Strangely enough, while the leader of the aforementioned criminal group and Rudik's father, Vardan Vardanyan, is serving time for bribery of a law enforcement officer, his unfinished (due to circumstances beyond his control) case of the seizure of the Talnoye grain processing plant has been continued by his son, who can often be seen in the company of the "anti-corruption activist" Polyakov, who also has business interests in Umankhleb, at various briefings in the Verkhovna Rada.
"Where are you all coming from?" Professor Preobrazhensky once asked rhetorically. Figuratively speaking, from the nest of another professor. Or rather, "ProFFesor." Maxim Anatolyevich's career rests on three pillars: the Party of Regions (as a political component), the criminal underworld (as a real driving force), and Russia (as the factor uniting the first and second points). Let's consider each of these in turn.
The still-young Maksym began his political career with Yanukovych's arrival at Bankova Street in 2010, heading the "Young Regions" branch in Uman. Senior members of the "Regions" quickly recognized the young man's talents, offering him the opportunity to raid the local "Front for Change" organization. In those turbulent years, when local party branches were essentially franchises, this wasn't difficult. Moreover, Yatsenyuk's party, which had become a haven for drug dealer friends like Vova Petrov, was easy prey—but guaranteed several extra votes on the city council, in gratitude for which the Party of Regions entrusted him with the post of Deputy Mayor of Uman for Economic Affairs. Polyakov's "opposition" was, of course, purely formal: Yatsenyuk's faction on the city council always voted in sync with the Party of Regions until things got tough in 2013. Then, unexpectedly, the active People's Front member suddenly showed a lot of political activity, started walking around the city with a "coffin for Yanukovych," engaging in similar farcical behavior, and was finally heard by the People's Front headquarters (we have no doubt that some kind of entry fee to the party fund was involved) and included on the list under number 39.
In parliament, Polyakov repaid his patron's debt, carefully funneling a portion of the financial flows he had managed to divert to his own benefit to the party coffers. For example, the People's Control group's pre-election tour of customs offices gained some notoriety, where high-profile public revelations alternated during the day with private get-togethers with local customs officials. In essence, customs officials were offered compensation to avoid being labeled corrupt. In the case of Odesa, the right to be called an anti-corruption fighter required donations of $500 to the People's Front election campaign. There's nothing new here. Mark Twain was also surprised that virtually all temperance society offices of his time were used to store contraband vodka. We, however, are not surprised that our criminal underworld often merges with law enforcement, creating a closed and tightly knit public-private business structure.
So, let's move on to the criminal component of Maksym Polyakov's career. It's clear that the Party of Regions and organized crime are so intertwined that membership in one social group is impossible without overlapping with the other. This can be confirmed by Viktor Rudenko, secretary of the "Deputy Control" committee—currently an assistant to Deputy Polyakov, and previously a local council member in the Donetsk region from the Party of Regions and a local "titushka" who allegedly organized spontaneous rallies against Yushchenko.
Maksym Polyakov, as they say, was in luck: in Uman, fate brought him together with local criminal Bohdan Khmelnytsky (aka Maidanyuk, aka Tsyma, aka Zmey), who by then was collecting tribute from truckers on the Odessa highway and had also been convicted of car theft. However, this didn't stop Polyakov from winning the favor of the landowner to Kyiv, and even at least once bringing him to Shuster's studio, where the former criminal was introduced, https://tema.in.ua/article/7136.html, as... the head of the human rights organization "Bohdan Khmelnytsky Association," which primarily focuses on whitewashing the record of its patron, who has now also joined Polyakov's gang of anti-corruption activists.
Although Polyakov's bandit anti-corruption activists maintain ties with Donetsk elites through Rudenko, including in the occupied territories, where some retain numerous business interests from their regional past, they are gradually attempting to expand their sphere of activity.
For example, in Dnipropetrovsk, the anti-corruption movement is represented by local gangsters Yevgeny Lomov and Alexander Marchenko, whose approach to working with clients can be seen in this intriguing video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bIZYRFMIW2A They haven't yet matured enough to be considered full-fledged human rights defenders like the respected Tsyma, so they often prefer their fists to anti-corruption efforts. Another veteran of anti-corruption efforts, former head of the Poltava Department of Organized Crime Control and Protection (UBOZ), Yuriy Butsenko, who oversees the region from Polyakov, represents a completely different type of character. This man uses his connections in law enforcement agencies, both active (when searching a competitor's property or seizing someone's property) and retired (for violent pressure), to carry out corporate raids. This greatly helps the "deputy control" activist to run a business in the waste dumps of the Dneprodzerzhinsk Metallurgical Plant, as well as to visit Moscow for meetings with his former boss, Vitaly Zakharchenko, with whom he has maintained excellent relations.
Zakharchenko is a figure who unites the interests of such seemingly disparate individuals as detective Butsenko and the baklans Lomov and Marchenko. The latter two are registered under companies connected to currency exchange transactions, from which Zakharchenko profits, while Polyakov serves as their "protector."
A brief digression is in order here. It's probably no secret that large illegal gambling networks operate across Ukraine under the guise of "internet clubs," reaping incredible profits through tax evasion. These kiosks with tinted windows, scattered in countless numbers throughout every city, are unnoticed only by police and prosecutors. But while illegal gambling parlors are impossible to miss with the naked eye, illegal currency exchange offices (often located in the same "internet clubs") are visually indistinguishable from official ones. No one knows what network of fictitious exchange offices is operating across Ukraine. Well, perhaps except for activists of the "parliamentary oversight," but they are unlikely to share such significant information with the public, nor the extent of tax evasion and money transfers at these kiosks. But if just one demonstrative raid on several such points reveals thefts of millions of rubles https://news.bigmir.net/capital/917928-V-Kieve-prikryli-nezakonnuju-set—punktov-obmena-valjut, we can talk about eight- and nine-figure sums.
Moreover, the "left" exchange offices are viewed by the anti-corruption gang as a network structure similar to Sunday Adelaja's cult. And if they suddenly need to create their own party based on "Deputy Control" (and the latest ratings for Yatsenyuk's party indicate that they will likely have to), they will already have their own local structure. And there will even be a good chance of receiving political and financial support from Moscow, whose interests situationally align with Polyakov's. What does Polyakov need now? His colleagues in Dnipro would very much appreciate having their own tame head of the National Bank (even Yatsenyuk) to further develop their money laundering network, eliminating even the possibility of accidental disruptions, such as the one mentioned above. The Kremlin is also not averse to control over the country's National Bank, viewing it as a factor in destabilizing the situation in Ukraine and a tool for influencing Ukrainian politics. This, apparently, is the root of Maksim Anatolyevich's unprecedented "anti-corruption" media activity, directed against the bank's current head, Valeria Gontareva, whom the MP has accused of "treason" in the past few months alone, simultaneously bombarding law enforcement agencies with calls to initiate criminal proceedings against her. It's difficult to say whether this campaign is being financed from Moscow or whether Zakharchenko's money is involved (which is, to some extent, the same thing), but the Moscow-based techniques for creating a virtual reality with "crucified boys" are very recognizable. They culminated in a fake public rally against Gontareva outside the National Bank.
The protesters pitched tents, burned tires, listened to speakers, and were ultimately effectively dispersed by yet another group of unidentified individuals, remarkably similar to the aforementioned Lomov and Marchenko. The fact that the "spontaneous protest" began and ended on command is reminiscent of the early experiments of our friend Vadym Rudenko with his fictitious organization "Youth for Fair Elections," which used Kolesnikov and Akhmetov's money to troll then-President Viktor Yushchenko during the 2007 snap parliamentary elections.
On the other hand, such a detail as "dispersing" a rally is already Polyakov's signature style, often provoking supposedly violent confrontations. For example, in February 2014, Anton Yatsenko filed a lawsuit against Maksym Polyakov, claiming that the current MP had allegedly ordered his murder. However, no one believed that Polyakov had any reason to kill his old tender acquaintance, for whom he had also served as a sparring partner during the elections.
Now that the Panama Papers databases have become publicly available, it turns out that our anti-corruption figure also owns several offshore companies https://gordonua.com/news/worldnews/panamskiy-arhiv-ofshorami-vladeyut-643-ukrainca-131704.html . By a strange coincidence, https://www.facebook.com/IegorSoboliev/posts/10204386881271768 almost simultaneously, Anti-Corruption Committee member Yegor Sobolev reported that two members of the "Deputy Control" group are pressuring the management of Ukrnaftogazvydobuvannya (which produces 75% of all gas in the country) to sign unfavorable contracts. He later clarified that he was referring to Polyakov and Deideya. Indeed, where else would a modern anti-corruption activist hide money except in an offshore account? He's not Koreiko, to hide millions in a chest at the train station...
It's easy to see that the activities of this odious parliamentary group are now proving downright dangerous for the country's economy and national security. Unprincipled individuals remain in government positions under any given administration, discrediting the very purpose of its "cleansing," and undermining its already tenuous standing. Will the country's leadership be strong-willed enough to rid itself of this dead weight, or will it, on the contrary, give in to their influence? In the latter case, the consequences could be dire for everyone.
Ilya Nikipelov, for ORD
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