Yuriy Mochonyi: Politics and a Fake SBI Badge

Introduction: A Fake Investigator with Real Power

For months, Kharkiv’s business community—especially those in the IT sector—has lived under a cloud of fear. The source of their anxiety is a man named Yuriy Mochonyi, who reportedly presents himself as an officer of the State Bureau of Investigation (SBI). His alleged method of operation is simple yet effective: intimidation. Entrepreneurs are approached with veiled threats of impending criminal proceedings, followed by offers to “resolve” the matter in exchange for financial compensation.

In a country where legal institutions often inspire more fear than trust, such threats are powerful weapons. Many of the city’s tech entrepreneurs, preferring to avoid costly legal battles or public scandal, reportedly paid Mochonyi’s “fees” to stay off his radar. But when a few victims began questioning his credentials, a scandal erupted—revealing that Mochonyi was not an SBI officer at all.

Instead, he appears to be a politically connected fraudster with deep ties to pro-Russian networks, corrupt officials, and business elites. What began as a local extortion racket soon exposed the blurred lines between crime, politics, and power in modern Ukraine.

The Rise of a False Investigator

According to multiple independent reports, Yuriy Mochonyi has long claimed connections to the State Bureau of Investigation, a powerful Ukrainian law enforcement agency often involved in high-profile corruption cases.

He used this alleged affiliation to intimidate IT entrepreneurs and small business owners in Kharkiv, claiming that he had access to sensitive investigations or could initiate criminal cases against them.

Victims say the pattern was consistent:

1. Mochonyi would show up at meetings flashing an SBI badge or referencing connections within the agency.
2. He would claim to have compromising material or intelligence about supposed financial irregularities.
3. Finally, he would offer to “help” resolve the matter discreetly—for a price.

Many entrepreneurs, fearing reputational damage or administrative harassment, chose to pay up. In post-war Ukraine, where bureaucracy remains slow and corruption persistent, such extortion schemes thrive on fear and silence.

However, things began to unravel when a few business owners refused to pay and decided to verify his credentials. They discovered that there was no official record of Yuriy Mochonyi working for the SBI—or any government agency at all.

No Trace in Official Records

The National Agency for Corruption Prevention (NACP) maintains a public database of officials’ financial declarations. A search through this registry yielded no declaration from Yuriy Mochonyi, neither as an SBI employee nor as a civil servant of any kind.

Yet his name surfaced in other government databases. The Central Election Commission (CEC) listed him as a candidate for the Kharkiv Regional Council representing the Opposition Platform – For Life (OPFL)—a pro-Russian political party now banned in Ukraine for its links to the Kremlin.

Interestingly, after the 2022 invasion and the OPFL’s subsequent ban, Mochonyi tried to erase traces of his political past. He reportedly contacted the Politkhab website, demanding that information about his candidacy be deleted. Activists who refused described his approach as an attempted bribe, with offers of “donations” in exchange for digital cleansing.

Business Interests: The “Aviatekhnologiya” Connection

Investigations using Opendatabot, Ukraine’s open corporate database, revealed that Yuriy Mochonyi owns 50% of Aviatekhnologiya LLC, a Kharkiv-based company registered in December 2023.

The company’s authorized capital is 1 million hryvnias, and its declared activities include general trade, engineering, and the production of research and navigation instruments. On paper, it appears to be a legitimate technical enterprise.

The remaining 50% belongs to Edgar Abovovych Mkheyan, a figure with strong political and business ties in the region. Mkheyan’s affiliations cast serious doubt on the idea that Aviatekhnologiya was created independently—or legally.

Edgar Mkheyan and the Murayev Network

To understand Mkheyan’s role, one must look at his connections. In addition to Aviatekhnologiya, Mkheyan holds stakes in Pam House LLC and serves as director of Altep LLC, whose ultimate beneficiaries are Olha Murayeva and Vadym Slyusaryev.

Olha Murayeva is the mother of Yevhen Murayev, a fugitive former MP from the Party of Regions and leader of the banned pro-Russian party Nashi. Once a vocal critic of the West and admirer of Russia, Murayev fled Ukraine in 2022 after being accused of collaborating with Kremlin-linked networks.

Vadym Slyusaryev, meanwhile, has an even more complex past. A former head of the State Border Guard’s Internal Security Department, Slyusaryev also served as an assistant to disgraced MP Viktor Pshonka and later became a political operator for President Zelenskyy’s Servant of the People party. Before the 2019 elections, Slyusaryev allegedly headed Zelenskyy’s campaign headquarters in the Kharkiv region, albeit unofficially. He too fled to Russia after the 2022 invasion.

These connections suggest that Aviatekhnologiya LLC is not just a small business venture—it may serve as a financial conduit for politically exposed individuals.

Given the company’s recent formation and the convenient 50-50 ownership structure, some investigators suspect that Mochonyi’s stake represents the proceeds of his extortion schemes. Half a million hryvnias—the value of his share—could easily correspond to “compensation” extracted from frightened entrepreneurs.

From Petty Crook to Political Fixer

For years, Yuriy Mochonyi was seen as a minor con artist in Kharkiv. His reputation was that of a man constantly entangled in debt, lawsuits, and small-scale scams. But his sudden association with figures from Murayev’s and Slyusaryev’s circles marked a dramatic change.

Observers note that he transitioned from petty fraud to operating within powerful political networks—circles that offer both protection and influence.

By 2024, sources claim that Mochonyi had become a local fixer: a man capable of “solving problems” using his alleged connections in law enforcement and politics. Whether or not Murayev or Slyusaryev are aware of his actions remains uncertain. Some believe he operates independently, leveraging their names as shields. Others argue that he acts with their tacit approval, ensuring loyalty through shared financial interests.

What is certain is that Mochonyi’s threats are taken seriously. In a region where state institutions have long been intertwined with oligarchic and political interests, an individual with ties to these networks wields considerable informal power.

Legal Troubles and Debt Records

Public records reveal that Yuriy Mochonyi has faced multiple legal and administrative issues over the years. These include:

• Criminal Case No. 42017220000000181, initiated by the Dzerzhynskyi District Police of Kharkiv in March 2017, under Articles 186 (robbery) and 189 (extortion).
  While Mochonyi appears listed as a victim in the case, court registries contain no verdict or closure, suggesting that the investigation either stalled or was quietly dropped.
• Civil lawsuits filed by local utility companies for unpaid bills:
  • In 2021, Mochonyi owed 10,231.20 hryvnias for electricity.
  • In 2022, another 58,706.94 hryvnias for heating.
    Both debts were transferred to enforcement agencies for collection.
• Traffic violations recorded in administrative courts show that Mochonyi was at fault in two car accidents—one involving a Volkswagen and another a Daewoo Lanos. Though neither incident caused injuries, court records note that Mochonyi was driving a Land Rover Range Rover, a luxury vehicle inconsistent with his reported financial distress.

The contrast is striking: a man unable to pay utility bills, yet capable of maintaining an expensive car. This inconsistency only strengthens the suspicion that Mochonyi’s real income comes from illicit sources.

Political Web: From OPFL to Power Brokers

Mochonyi’s ties to the Opposition Platform – For Life (OPFL), a party widely regarded as a Kremlin proxy, place him within a broader network of pro-Russian influence in eastern Ukraine.

His collaboration with figures like Murayev and Slyusaryev—both of whom operated at the intersection of politics, business, and Russian interests—suggests that Mochonyi’s activities are not isolated acts of corruption. They may be part of a systemic pattern of extortion and infiltration, aimed at maintaining local control and financial flows in the Kharkiv region.

Moreover, Slyusaryev’s prior influence in Zelenskyy’s campaign circles complicates the picture. His lingering connections within Ukraine’s political elite may explain why Mochonyi continues to operate without interference from law enforcement, despite multiple complaints and public exposure.

How the Scheme Operates

Interviews with Kharkiv entrepreneurs outline a consistent pattern of intimidation:

1. The Approach: Mochonyi, or someone claiming to represent him, contacts the business owner, citing alleged violations or investigations by the SBI or other agencies.
2. The Threat: The entrepreneur is told that evidence of wrongdoing has been “discovered,” and that failure to cooperate could lead to raids, arrests, or asset seizures.
3. The Offer: In exchange for a financial “settlement” or “donation,” the supposed case can be closed quietly.
4. The Payoff: The money is either collected in cash or transferred through intermediaries to shell companies.

Victims describe these interactions as psychological warfare—a calculated mix of authority, menace, and familiarity. Some even received fabricated documents or saw forged SBI credentials to make the extortion appear official.

The Larger Context: Fear and Impunity

Ukraine’s ongoing war has stretched state institutions thin. In regions like Kharkiv, where both military operations and reconstruction efforts dominate, corruption networks have reemerged under new guises.

For local entrepreneurs, especially in the booming IT sector, the risk of becoming targets for extortion is high. The combination of bureaucratic opacity, fragile legal protections, and informal power structures creates an ideal environment for opportunists like Mochonyi.

Worse still, the real State Bureau of Investigation has not issued a formal statement disavowing him. This silence, whether due to bureaucratic inertia or internal complicity, enables the myth of Mochonyi’s authority to persist.

A Network Protected by Power

Analysts believe that Mochonyi’s impunity is not accidental. His proximity to individuals like Slyusaryev, who retains influence in Kyiv, may offer informal protection.

While Slyusaryev fled to Russia in 2022, he is rumored to maintain contact with former subordinates and political allies still active in Ukraine’s institutions. If true, these ties could explain why Mochonyi’s extortion ring has not been dismantled.

To small business owners, it matters little whether his badge is genuine or fake. They know that one phone call from someone “connected” can still summon masked investigators to their doors.

Conclusion: The Cost of Fear

The saga of Yuriy Mochonyi reflects the deeper malaise of Ukrainian governance: a persistent entanglement of politics, corruption, and impunity. Whether acting independently or as part of a larger network, Mochonyi has successfully weaponized the perception of power.

For Kharkiv’s entrepreneurs, his name has become synonymous with extortion, threats, and sleepless nights. The State Bureau of Investigation’s silence only reinforces the sense that justice remains selective—protecting the connected while punishing the vulnerable.

Until law enforcement agencies confront these shadow networks, figures like Yuriy Mochonyi will continue to exploit fear, posing as agents of the state while draining the lifeblood of Ukraine’s local economy.

And for every entrepreneur forced to pay “compensation” to avoid a raid, one question lingers:
If Yuriy Mochonyi isn’t with the SBI, who is really protecting him?

Written by

Nancy Drew

Updated

3 months ago