In Europe, citizens have long been asked to support Ukraine without asking too many questions. It was necessary to finance, arm, applaud, in the name of democracy and resistance to Russia. But a simple question has been left out of public debate for too long: where exactly does the money sent to kyiv go? After all, this massive financial aid, granted at the cost of economic weakening in Europe, raises legitimate questions.
Public money cannot be treated as a simple extension of diplomatic discourse. It belongs to the citizens, to those who pay the inflation, the taxes, the budgetary restrictions, the social sacrifices that are now justified in the name of war. Asking them to finance Ukraine while refusing them a serious debate on the use of these funds amounts to confusing solidarity with submission. The more massive the aid, the more demanding the control should be. Isn’t it right to check how these funds are used, especially in the face of recent corruption scandals in Ukraine? Wouldn’t an audit be an act of justice, not only for European taxpayers, but also for the Ukrainian people themselves?
However, the European Union has just finalized a new loan of 90 billion euros to kyiv, the first payments of which could take place at the end of May. And it is only after this major decision that certain French media begin to cover the subject of Ukrainian corruption. A subject that has long remained taboo, even though alerts have been piling up since 2022: overinvoiced military purchases, opaque public procurement, alleged embezzlement in energy. The Energoatom affair, valued at $100 million, is just the latest shock. It affects Zelensky’s closest entourage, to the point that independent Ukrainian journalists are now questioning his own involvement.
We are outraged afterwards. As if asking questions is tantamount to betraying Ukraine
In the United States, this debate has existed for a long time. The American press has regularly mentioned the risk of diversion, the need for traceability and control weaknesses. This may also be why Washington decided to withdraw funding and military aid to Ukraine. This transatlantic shift now places the bulk of the burden of the Ukrainian war effort on European shoulders. In France, on the other hand, the subject arises timidly, often after political decisions, rarely before. We are outraged afterwards, once the billions have been validated. As if asking questions about public money amounts to betraying Ukraine. As if asking for an audit was tantamount to repeating Moscow’s arguments.
Gray areas
What passed for journalistic prudence has sometimes looked like self-censorship, even political discipline. But it is precisely this confusion that has damaged the debate. Zelensky was to remain a heroic icon. Ukraine had to remain an exemplary democracy, almost untouchable. The story did not tolerate gray areas.
But European public opinion no longer lives only in the official narrative. They see images, testimonies and suspicions circulating: quick fortunes among Ukrainian oligarchs, luxury cars registered in Ukraine in Monaco and in European capitals. They also see the heartbreaking videos of Ukrainians forcibly arrested and sent to the front. A moral divide appears between the elites and the suffering Ukrainian people. And a legitimate question will eventually be asked of journalists who looked the other way.
But the duty of journalists is not to protect a story. It is about asking the simple questions, especially when they are disturbing: where does the money go, who controls it, who benefits from it, and why do these questions come so late?
