This month, the Ukrainian government made an unusual choice for its new prime minister. In a rare move for the country—and indeed for most of Eastern Europe—it picked a woman. Yulia Svyrydenko, a 39-year-old selected by President Volodymyr Zelensky and approved by Parliament, will lead the government in a period of intense uncertainty, as Russia escalates its offensive, Europe revamps its security commitments, and the Trump administration waffles on the war.
Some Ukrainian and Western observers have suggested that Svyrydenko isn’t up to the task, in part because they characterize her as a mere “loyalist” to Zelensky. She “would do everything saluting, without fail,” an anonymous source in Zelensky’s party told New Voice, a Ukrainian magazine. “I don’t believe she can reform our country,” Oleksiy Goncharenko, a member of Parliament, told me as he left a legislative session last week where he’d voted against her candidacy. “If she tries to criticize the president, she will end up like General Zaluzhny,” he continued, referring to Ukraine’s former army chief, whom Zelensky had dismissed after their differences became public.
The new prime minister is also facing overtly sexist criticism. “Svyrydenko is exactly the girl who all of you, dear students, are familiar with from school: She always sits at the front desk” and “carefully writes down the teacher’s notes,” Oleh Posternak, a Ukrainian political strategist, wrote in a Facebook post that a national media site republished.
Very few women have led former Soviet states, and they have virtually all received this kind of disparagement from men. In 2018, Georgia elected its first female president, Salome Zourabichvili, who’d run as an independent. Before she even took office, political observers called her a “finger puppet” of the billionaire leader of the ruling party, which had endorsed her. Today, many in Georgia credit Zourabichvili with uniting the opposition, and she condemned as “totally falsified” a recent election won by the party of her former patron.
In Moldova, many discounted Maia Sandu, who became the country’s first female president in 2020. Sandu’s rival in the race, the pro-Russian incumbent, Igor Dodon, criticized her for not having children—a line of attack that MAGA would later take up against Kamala Harris in the 2024 U.S. presidential race. In Dodon’s view, Sandu’s lack of offspring meant that she was “not interested in what is happening in the country.” Her opponents launched a misinformation campaign about her, much of which centered on the coronavirus pandemic. “The fake news scared people that I would close schools, hospitals, and even churches,” Sandu told me at the time. Instead, Sandu invested in the country’s medical and educational sectors, recruited European Union support for her agenda, and oversaw funding for the restoration of Orthodox churches. She has also been an effective reformer, working to root out the country’s extensive corruption.
Svyrydenko has a chance to leave a similar legacy in Ukraine. She has ample experience working with foreign governments, whose support is now existentially important to Ukraine. Early in her career, she served as the country’s only permanent representative in China, bringing investment to her hometown of Chernihiv. As deputy prime minister, Svyrydenko negotiated billion-dollar reconstruction projects and trade agreements with the European Commission and Emirati leaders, as well as a $400 million investment from Turkish business interests. She also helped broker a natural-resources agreement with U.S. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent to create a joint investment fund to rebuild Ukraine.
Her appointment last week was part of a larger government reshuffle by Zelensky, who reassigned the previous prime minister, Denys Shmyhal, to the role of defense minister. In her new role, Svyrydenko will be tasked with rehabilitating the economy, boosting the domestic production of weapons, and strengthening Ukraine’s armed forces, in part by securing financing from allies and the International Monetary Fund. One of her first actions as prime minister was to advance talks with the United States about a major potential investment in Ukraine’s drone industry.
Nevertheless, and despite her strong résumé, Svyrydenko will have to contend with broad reservations in Ukraine about female leadership. According to a 2020 study conducted by the research group Rating, Ukrainians are more likely to prefer male political executives. Sometimes bad actors take advantage of this trust gap. Katerina Sergatskova, the executive director of the 2402 Foundation, which supports and trains Ukrainian journalists, has seen many Ukrainian women in public life become the target of harassment. “It is political sexism. The attacks are well-organized campaigns,” Sergatskova told me. She has experienced such a campaign herself, which included death threats that forced her to stay out of Ukraine for a time.
Sergatskova noted that many in Ukraine are comparing Svyrydenko to the country’s first female prime minister, Yulia Tymoshenko, who took office in 2005 and faced several corruption charges. One case resulted in a criminal conviction against her and two and a half years in prison, which the U.S. condemned as politically motivated. After the 2014 revolution, which ousted Ukraine’s pro-Russian regime, the supreme court overruled Tymoshenko’s conviction and ordered her release. Nevertheless, a large majority of the Ukrainian public still don’t trust her.
Zelensky has fought against Ukraine’s abiding suspicion of female politicians by promoting a new generation of them into leadership positions. In addition to picking Svyrydenko as prime minister, he also announced the appointment of Olha Stefanishyna as Ukraine’s new special representative to the United States. The approach sets him apart from Vladimir Putin. Valentina Matviyenko, one of two women who serve on the Russian president’s permanent security council, put on a Barbie-pink suit last year and derided feminism as “an anti-male, anti-traditional-values movement.” Meanwhile, Russia bans and prosecutes feminist groups, and Putin tells Russian women to have “minimum two children.”
For those who fear that Svyrydenko will be no more than a Zelensky loyalist, she is already facing her first test. This week, Zelensky tightened the administration’s control over two independent agencies tasked with fighting government corruption. Sevgil Musayeva, the editor in chief of the newspaper Ukrainska Pravda, described the move as a step toward authoritarianism. “Svyrydenko has a chance to act now and speak against this decision that is undermining democracy, which our soldiers are dying for,” Musayeva told me. “But such action would require a lot of her courage.”
Two days after Zelensky reined in the government watchdogs, Svyrydenko met with G7 ambassadors in Kyiv to discuss anti-corruption policy—a subtle acknowledgment, perhaps, that the president had gone too far. But not everyone is convinced that Svyrydenko will be able to stand up to Zelensky. “Officially, we are a parliamentary-presidential republic,” Goncharenko, the legislator, told me last week. “I wish that were true. But we live in wartime; the decisions are made by the president.” Goncharenko isn’t holding out hope that Svyrdrydenko will be able to make her own choices: “If she contradicts his policy, he will simply fire her.”
