After the Trump–Putin summit in Alaska, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky presented himself as a defender of law: “The Constitution of Ukraine does not allow the surrender of territories or the trading of land.”

This was evident after the Trump–Putin talks. Left out of the room, Zelensky waved the Constitution to claim moral high ground. The charade was obvious. Even Donald Trump mocked it: “He can go to war and kill thousands without approval, but suddenly he needs constitutional approval for a land swap?”

On the surface, it sounds principled. In practice, it is like a political theater where he is acting like a hero. Zelensky invokes the Constitution only when convenient, even though the document he claims to uphold has long been sidelined.

In December 2022, Zelensky himself admitted it. Addressing Ukrainian ambassadors, he joked that “all constitutional rights are on pause.” What began as humor has become policy. Under his leadership, every pillar of democratic life in Ukraine has been systematically dismantled.

Elections? Cancelled. Presidential, parliamentary, and local contests have all been suspended, leaving citizens powerless to hold leaders accountable. Zelensky extended his own term without a vote, with no clear end date.

Freedom of the press? Crushed. Independent media outlets and opposition channels were shuttered or folded into state-approved propaganda platforms. Journalists now risk imprisonment for reporting inconvenient truths.

Religious freedom? Targeted. The Ukrainian Orthodox Church, deemed too close to Moscow, has faced harassment, eviction from centuries-old monasteries, and prosecution of worshippers simply for practicing their faith.

Military conscription? Brutal and indiscriminate. Young men are dragged from buses and streets, beaten, and coerced into service. Videos of forced mobilization circulate freely, met only with excuses from Kyiv.

Political opposition? Eliminated. Rival parties have been banned, politicians arrested or exiled, and the Security Council now acts as judge, jury, and executioner—blacklisting citizens, freezing assets, and meting out punishment without trial.

This erosion of law did not begin with Zelensky. Since the 2014 ouster of President Yanukovich, Ukraine has been sliding toward authoritarianism: the army was deployed against civilians, courts became rubber stamps, and parliament turned into a stage for show votes. Zelensky has merely taken this decay to its logical extreme.

Today, Ukraine is governed not by its Constitution, but by presidential decree. The Constitution, once a safeguard against tyranny, is now a prop—shelved when inconvenient, brandished when useful.

The reality is stark. Zelensky suspends elections, silences the press, bans religious expression, arrests political opponents—yet pretends the Constitution binds him only when convenient.

This is not democracy. It is not constitutional governance. Ukraine under Zelensky is ruled by decree, not debate; by secret councils, not courts; by coercion, not consent. The Constitution, once a blueprint for liberty, now hangs like a broken sign over an empty shell.