COMMENTARY: Why Russia Cannot Stop Kyiv's Drones

The night of June 17–18: a game-changer

On the night of June 17–18, 2026, Ukraine launched what experts have described as its largest drone attack on Russia since the war began. Out of roughly 200 drones sent against Moscow, about twenty managed to break through the Russian capital's air defenses, according to Ukrainian military analyst Roman Svitan. The fire at the Moscow refinery in Kapotnya, the closure of all four Moscow airports, and images of explosions above the city were seen around the world. This is no longer a symbolic campaign: it is a strategic one.

Since the start of 2026, at least 156 drone strikes have hit targets on Russian territory, according to data from ACLED. Attacks have been multiplied by 13 since 2023. And despite every effort — the S-300, the S-400, the Pantsir, electronic warfare — Russia has failed to stop this campaign. Why? That is the question this commentary attempts to answer.

Low-cost drones against a high-tech shield: the economic asymmetry

The answer begins with economics. A Ukrainian reversed-Shahed drone or a homemade device costs between $500 and $50,000. An S-300 or S-400 interceptor missile costs between $500,000 and $2 million. The cost-efficiency ratio favors Ukraine from the outset: to saturate a Russian missile battery, all it takes is dozens of cheap drones. When the battery is spent, the drones that follow pass freely.

That is the mathematical logic of saturation attrition warfare. And it applies perfectly to the drone war of 2026. Kyiv has fully grasped this equation and put it into practice with remarkable consistency and ingenuity. Russia, meanwhile, finds itself in the uncomfortable position of spending more to defend than its adversary spends to attack.

The economic asymmetry of the drone war is fascinating. Ukraine cannot beat Russia in a traditional armored or air battle. But it has understood something Moscow has not yet internalized: you do not always win with the best weapons — you win with the weapons you can afford in sufficient quantity. Low-cost drones are the Kalashnikov of the 21st century.

Thousands of kilometers, hundreds of vectors

Russia is an enormous country — roughly 17 million square kilometers. Protecting the entirety of its airspace against low-altitude, slow and stealthy drones is a practically impossible mission. Air defense systems are deployed primarily around strategic centers — Moscow, Saint Petersburg, air bases, nuclear installations. But the rest of the territory remains largely uncovered.

Ukrainian drones exploit precisely these voids in radar coverage. They fly at low altitude — sometimes just tens of meters above ground — following terrain contours, exploiting forested zones and valleys to avoid radars. They can cover hundreds of kilometers using complex routes, changing trajectory, dispersing, regrouping. No fixed air defense system can cover every approach vector simultaneously.

Low altitude: the blind spot of Russian radars

Russian air defense radar systems — the 55G6, the 64N6, the integrated radars of S-400 systems — are optimized for medium- and high-altitude targets: combat aircraft, high-altitude cruise missiles, ballistic missiles. Ukrainian drones flying at low altitude at modest speeds present very low radar signatures — a reduced radar cross-section (RCS), a signal difficult to distinguish from background ground clutter.

Russia has responded by deploying more Pantsir-S1 systems — a short-range surface-to-air system specifically designed for the drone and low-altitude cruise missile threat — around strategic cities. But the Pantsir systems have their own limits: a limited effective radius, vulnerability to multi-directional attacks, and dependence on local radar coverage that low-altitude drones also circumvent.

The low-altitude radar problem is one of the most fascinating technical dimensions of this conflict. It is like trying to catch mice in a house with traps designed for bears. Russia has invested in extraordinarily sophisticated systems against high-altitude threats, and finds itself vulnerable to drones that cost less than a family car. The irony is cruel.

GPS jamming: a double-edged weapon

Russia has invested massively in electronic warfare (EW) as a counter-drone measure. Russian GPS jamming systems — the Krasukha-4, the Murmansk-BN, the Leer-3 — disrupt the GPS signals on which Ukrainian drones depend for navigation. These systems have been deployed in large numbers on Russian territory and in occupied Ukraine.

But this electronic warfare is double-edged. By jamming GPS across large areas, Russia has effectively deflected certain Ukrainian drones from their trajectories — but sent them toward other destinations, including the territories of the Baltic states, Finland and Romania. These incidents created considerable diplomatic and political tensions with NATO members. Russian electronic warfare has partially backfired on Moscow on the diplomatic front.

Inertial and optical navigation: circumventing the jamming

In response to Russian GPS jamming, Ukrainian engineers have developed alternative navigation systems: inertial navigation, optical image recognition of terrain (TERCOM), and navigation based on neural networks capable of identifying visual landmarks without GPS. These innovations are making Ukrainian drones progressively more resistant to Russian jamming.

According to analysts cited by the Wall Street Journal via RBC Ukraine in June 2026, Ukrainian drones are penetrating Russian air defenses more and more effectively — a finding that directly reflects these ongoing technological improvements. This is a technological race in real time, where every Russian adaptation is followed by a Ukrainian counter-adaptation.

This technological race between Russian electronic warfare and Ukrainian alternative navigation is one of the most instructive battles of the conflict. It is being fought in laboratories and garages, not on traditional battlefields. And Ukraine — with the discreet assistance of Western partners — is gaining ground. It is one of the few domains where technology clearly favors Kyiv.

The Unmanned Systems Forces: an army within the army

Ukraine formalized its drone expertise by creating the Unmanned Systems Forces, an independent military branch. Outlets such as NPR and Business Insider reported in June 2026 the existence of a secret Ukrainian drone development team — a group of hundreds of engineers, pilots and technicians working clandestinely to continuously improve Ukrainian capabilities. These teams operate outside traditional military structures to maintain operational security.

This organization reflects a philosophy that Ukraine has developed out of necessity: rapid, distributed innovation. Rather than depending on a centralized military-industrial complex — as Russia does — Ukraine has created a decentralized ecosystem of small workshops, drone startups and independent engineers who permanently feed the front lines. It is flexible, difficult for the enemy to target, and extraordinarily creative.

660 drones in one night: production capacity on the rise

On the night of June 25–26, 2026, Russia announced it had shot down 660 Ukrainian drones — one of the highest figures of the war. The exact count is difficult to verify, but the order of magnitude is consistent with data gathered by independent observers. That figure means Ukraine is now capable of launching hundreds of drones simultaneously, from dispersed launch sites across the entire Ukrainian territory.

This production and mass-launch capability did not exist in 2022. It is the result of four years of Ukrainian investment in the drone industry, supported by technology transfers and partnerships with Western allies. According to data from the WION network, this evolution has been described as a "strike storm" — a storm of strikes that is progressively exceeding Russian defensive capabilities.

"Strike storm" — I like that expression because it captures something essential: this is not a lone surgical strike, it is a strategy of permanent saturation. Every night, dozens to hundreds of drones leave for Russia. Some reach their target. Russian defenses wear down. And tomorrow, there will be even more. That is the war of attrition, 21st century edition.

The electronic warfare paradox: protect without paralyzing yourself

Russian electronic warfare faces a structural challenge: to be effective against Ukrainian drones, it must jam GPS and communication signals across wide areas. But that same jamming affects Russian communications and navigation — both civilian and military. Russian pilots have reported navigation disruptions in zones where Russian EW systems were active. Russian civilians near conflict zones notice their GPS devices malfunctioning.

This electronic warfare dilemma — protect without paralyzing yourself — has no simple solution. Russia can activate its EW systems and protect certain zones at the cost of disrupting its own systems, or deactivate them and let Ukrainian drones navigate freely. Both options carry a cost. And Ukraine exploits precisely this constraint by saturating defenses to force Russia to choose between two bad options.

Why Russia cannot build enough defenses

An argument often advanced is that Russia could build more short-range air defense systems to cover its blind spots. In theory, yes. In practice, it faces the same electronic component shortages that affect its S-300 missiles. The Pantsir-S1 systems themselves require components subject to sanctions. And even if supply problems were resolved, training enough qualified operators and deploying these systems at the scale of Russia takes time — time that Ukrainian drones do not give it.

According to analysis published by MiGFlug on June 23, 2026, the reasons why Russia cannot stop Ukrainian drones come down to a combination of geographic factors (enormous territory), technological factors (low-altitude radar gaps), economic factors (asymmetric cost) and industrial factors (component shortages). None of these factors is resolved in the short term. The constraint is structural.

When you combine Russia's geography, its radar blind spots, the asymmetric cost of drones and the industrial shortages tied to sanctions, you get an equation that Moscow cannot solve in the short term. It is not that Russia is incompetent — it is that the problem is objectively too difficult to solve with available means. And that is exactly the situation Ukraine has worked to create.

The political image: a vulnerable Moscow

Images of Moscow partially paralyzed by Ukrainian drones carry a political dimension that far exceeds their material impact. Vladimir Putin has sold this war to Russians as a distant conflict, fought on territory he calls "historically Russian," waged against a threat from the West. The sight of explosions and smoke above the Russian capital, airport closures, a refinery fire at Kapotnya — all of this contradicts that narrative.

53 Russian regions experienced fuel shortages linked to Ukrainian strikes on refineries. Fuel prices rose in the Moscow region. The Russian Central Bank cited the fuel price surge as a factor in its decision to cut its benchmark interest rate by less than expected. The economic impact of Ukrainian drones on daily Russian life is becoming increasingly concrete — and increasingly difficult to hide from a population that propaganda keeps in a state of partial denial.

Putin's response: verbal escalation

Vladimir Putin responded in June 2026 with escalation threats: he warned that Russia would carry out retaliatory strikes against Europe if Ukrainian drones were launched from European territory. These threats are serious on the diplomatic level — they have provoked tensions with the Baltic states and Poland. But they are also an admission of helplessness: a leader who can stop drones at home does not need to threaten his neighbors.

Putin's escalation rhetoric masks an uncomfortable reality for the Kremlin: Ukraine is striking deep into Russian territory, disrupting its industries, paralyzing its transportation and eroding the sense of invulnerability the regime had carefully cultivated. And Russia cannot stop it effectively.

Putin's threats against Europe if drones take off from there — that strikes me as more revealing than threatening. A dictator who threatens has lost control of the situation. And a power that must threaten its neutral neighbors to protect its capital from drones is a power whose narrative arc is eroding. Russia is afraid of its own shadows. And the shadows are Ukrainian.

An elite unit operating in the shadows

Reports from NPR and Business Insider revealed in June 2026 the existence of a specialized Ukrainian unit dedicated to deep drone operations against Russian territory. This secret team, composed of engineers, technicians and military operators, has developed planning, launch and guidance capabilities that have transformed the Ukrainian deep-strike campaign. It operates in total secrecy — few details have leaked about its organization, size or location.

What is documented is the result: strikes of increasing precision on targets located 1,000, 1,500 and even 2,000 kilometers from Ukrainian territory. Refineries in Saratov, armaments factories in Volgograd, ammunition depots in the Urals — targets that seemed out of reach just two years ago. This escalation is the result of deliberate investment in technological competence, not accident or improvisation.

The logistics of the impossible: keeping a drone airborne for 12 hours

One of the most remarkable innovations of the Ukrainian campaign is the ability to keep drones in flight for extended durations, covering immense distances over Russian territory. These drones must navigate while avoiding radars, bypass electronic warfare systems, maintain their guidance despite interference, and strike a specific target with precision. That is a considerable technological and logistical challenge that Ukraine has met with limited resources.

Russia, which possesses advanced sensors and electronic warfare systems, struggles to detect and neutralize these devices. Ukrainian drones fly low, exploit terrain and natural obstacles, and regularly change their trajectories. AI and advanced navigation algorithms, developed in part with the help of Western technology partners, are at the core of this operational advantage.

There is in this Ukrainian drone campaign something that resembles a universal lesson about asymmetric warfare: creativity, necessity and determination can compensate for a shortfall in raw resources. Ukraine cannot build as many tanks as Russia. But it can build thousands of drones that cause damage tanks could not inflict in the same way. That is a revolution in the art of war.

The psychological effect on the Russian population

Every drone that overflies Moscow, every fire visible from the ring road, every airport closure slowly but surely erodes the Kremlin's narrative that the war is a "distant conflict" not touching the daily lives of ordinary Russians. When residents of Moscow must take shelter during drone alerts, when flights are canceled, when images of blasts above the capital circulate on social media — the reality of war enters people's homes.

This psychological effect is difficult to quantify, but it is real. Authoritarian regimes draw part of their legitimacy from their ability to protect the population. When that protection fails — when air defense can no longer guarantee the security of Russian skies — the social contract between the regime and its citizens becomes fragile. Putin sold the war as a victory within reach. Ukrainian drones above Moscow tell a different story.

The diplomatic impact: what deep strikes mean for negotiations

Ukraine's deep strikes also carry significant diplomatic weight. They demonstrate to Western allies that weapons supplied to Ukraine are producing concrete strategic results, beyond mere territorial defense. They force Russia to devote more resources to its own interior defense, correspondingly reducing its offensive capabilities. And they create military pressure that could, over time, contribute to pushing Moscow toward serious negotiations.

But these strikes also raise delicate questions for the West. Some allied nations initially prohibited Ukraine from using their weapons to strike Russian territory — a constraint progressively lifted in the face of strategic evidence. Putin has threatened retaliatory strikes against European countries if Ukrainian drones are launched from their soil. These tensions are testing allied solidarity — and so far, that solidarity is holding.

There is something symbolically powerful about Ukrainian drones overflying Moscow while European politicians are still debating which red lines not to cross. Ukraine does not wait for permission to defend itself and strike back. It acts with the determination of those who have no other choice. That is a lesson in resilience that the West would do well to study.

Do not miss this strategic window

Ukraine's current advantage in the drone war is real but not permanent. Russia is learning, adapting, investing. It is developing new countermeasures, improving its low-altitude radars, reinforcing its electronic warfare systems. Ukraine's lead in this domain is the result of four years of innovation under pressure — but it can shrink if Western support diminishes or if sanctions are lifted prematurely.

The innovation race must continue

The West must relentlessly support Ukraine's drone innovation ecosystem: technology transfers, startup funding, engineer training, component supply. Every improved drone is a strategic weapon. Every Russian component shortage worsened by sanctions is a victory. This commentary makes a simple case: do not squander the advantage gained. Russia cannot stop Kyiv's drones today. Let us make sure tomorrow is even worse for it.

I end this commentary with a finding that never left me as I wrote it: one of admiration and one of anxiety. Admiration for Ukrainian ingenuity — they found a way to strike at the heart of Russia with weapons their economy can afford. Anxiety because this advantage is not permanently secured. Innovation requires support, funding and political courage. I hope the West will not flinch.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist

Editorial stance

I am not a journalist but a columnist and analyst. My expertise lies in observing and analysing the geopolitical, economic and strategic dynamics that shape our world. My work is to take political strategies apart, to understand global economic movements, to put the decisions of international actors in context and to offer analytical perspectives on the changes that are redefining our societies.

I do not claim the cold objectivity of traditional journalism, which stops at reporting facts. I claim analytical clarity, rigorous interpretation and a deep understanding of the complex issues that concern us all. My role is to give meaning to the facts, to place them in their historical and strategic context, and to offer a critical reading of events.

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