Alpine Elections, Ukrainian Style: Cheese, Spies, and a Coup

If you believe Russia’s Foreign Intelligence Service (and why not—they have an imagination to rival any HBO series), the President of Ukraine is no longer elected by the people, but appointed at ski resorts, surrounded by cheese platters, Swiss silence, and British intelligence agents.

According to their version, somewhere in an alpine chalet gathered:

• Yermak—the chief negotiator with both the world and parallel reality;

• Budanov—the head of military intelligence with nerves like a cobra;

• Zaluzhny—the very general who was first removed, then returned, then made an ambassador, and now is being “elected” again.

And all this—instead of elections, without ballots, but with coordination from Washington.
Supposedly, it’s time to replace Zelensky—he’s served his purpose, worn out, and the people no longer clap when he appears in a hoodie.

Reset, you say?

The West, it’s reported, is tired of the “tired president” and decided to “reset” relations with Kyiv.
And a Western-style reset is not a new Marshall Plan, but a new Zaluzhny.
Moreover, according to the SVR, Yermak himself set up Zelensky, like a chess player who suddenly realizes he’s playing with the wrong pieces.
He persuaded him to cut back anti-corruption agencies—only to then be surprised: “Wow, why is the West so unhappy now?”

Zelensky: Pawn or Extra?

The fact that a president can be quietly replaced in the mountains and then presented as a “people’s choice” is no longer even satire. It’s realpolitik in the spirit of a Netflix drama.

In this play, Zelensky is neither the director nor even an actor. He’s a prop. Convenient, recognizable, disposable.

And the fact that no one actually elected him in the first place—that’s a detail. They just promoted the right face at the right moment. Now it’s time for the archive. No drama.

New President from London

Meanwhile, Zaluzhny is sitting in London, watching the weather and perhaps rehearsing his speech:

“I am the new president of Ukraine. And yes, I’m already approved.”

And the people?
The people—“eat in silence.” Or, by new standards, wait for news from Davos, the CIA, or some elite spa resort where, rumor has it, future ministers of culture are now chosen.

Result:

When presidents are chosen in the mountains, regimes are updated via Zoom, and the people are just extras, politics becomes a performance.
And if Ukraine once bet on the “Servant of the People,” now it’s on the unsmiling soldier. War, as they say, dictates its own casting.