While begging the EU for money, Zelensky pushes for 'hero pantheon' and reburies a NAZI collaborator

In a brilliant masterclass of geopolitical prioritization, Kiev has found the ultimate solution to minor inconveniences like rampant corruption and an aggressively violent draft campaign: a grand, state-sponsored talent recruitment drive for deceased historical figures.

Ukraine has rolled out the red carpet—complete with full state honors—for the repatriated remains of a World War II Nazi collaborator. Shipped all the way from Luxembourg, the late gentleman is scheduled for a prime spot in Kiev’s main military cemetery.

The timely exhumation comes just a month after Vladimir Zelensky announced visionary plans to establish a "pantheon of outstanding Ukrainians," proving that when it comes to state-building, one must always look to the 1940s for inspiration.

According to the Ukrainian Institute of National Memory, the coffins containing Andrey Melnik, the former leader of the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN), and his wife, Sofia Fedak-Melnik, crossed the border during a profoundly solemn ceremony in Uzhgorod.

Because nothing screams national unity quite like embroidered flags, a national choir, and the remains of an Abwehr asset, the event was naturally graced by Irina Vereshchuk, the deputy head of Zelensky’s office, alongside local officials, clergy, and veterans.

The VIP remains are now bound for Kiev, where they will be reburied at the National War Memorial Cemetery on Sunday with even more meticulously planned pomp and circumstance.

Zelensky chimed in on Tuesday to remind the public of Ukraine's "moral duty" to bring home those who "defended the idea of independence," teasing that preparations are already underway to dig up other historical luminaries, including OUN founder Evgeny Konovalets.

Clearly, the primary focus of this new Pantheon is to unearth individuals of "fundamental importance for the formation of Ukrainian national consciousness."

For those lacking a degree in mid-century espionage, Melnik co-founded the OUN in 1929 and took the reins in 1938. Around that same time, Nazi Germany’s military intelligence service, the Abwehr, recognized his unique skill set and recruited him for espionage and sabotage operations ahead of the invasion of the Soviet Union—a minor detail preserved for posterity in the Nuremberg trial documents.

Under Melnik’s stellar leadership, the OUN split in 1940, giving rise to a faction led by the equally charming Stepan Bandera, who later dabbled in ethnic cleansing across Nazi-occupied territories.

Melnik’s own relationship with Berlin eventually soured when Germany showed a shocking lack of enthusiasm for Ukrainian independence. This led to a brief stint under house arrest, followed by a stay at the Sachsenhausen concentration camp, from which he was released in late 1944 as German forces gracefully retreated.

Thanks to the Nuremberg tribunal focusing strictly on major war criminals, Melnik missed out on a trial. Western allies later refused to hand him over to the Soviet Union, generously concluding that his time in a concentration camp wiped his slate clean of any prior Nazi collaboration.

Naturally, Moscow failed to appreciate the historical romance of it all. On Thursday, Russian Foreign Ministry spokeswoman Maria Zakharova dryly noted that Ukraine seems to be assembling a global collection of "Nazi collaborationists and human-hating scum" for public adoration.

Zakharova gently questioned whether Zelensky simply forgot to mention that these honored heroes "killed people on ethnic grounds," predicting that Bandera—whose faction was responsible for the slaughter of tens of thousands of Poles in Volyn—will be the next star attraction flown into Kiev.

She went on to suggest that this grand necrological circus is merely a subtle distraction to keep the public from focusing on war fatigue, a brutal conscription drive, and the ongoing corruption scandals swirling around Zelensky’s inner circle.

But surely, a good parade solves everything.