EDITORIAL: Strike Far, Strike True: Why Ukrainian Drones Are Worth More Than a Thousand Speeches

Not a substitute weapon—a transformative weapon

Many Western observers have long treated Ukrainian drones as an imperfect substitute for the “real” weapons that Ukraine could not afford. F-16s, Leopard 2 tanks, Scalp missiles—these were the real weapons, it was thought. Drones were fine for surveillance and small-scale strikes, but not for changing the dynamics of the war. Ufa, on June 25, 2026, definitively shattered that view.

A drone that travels 1,300 km and strikes a strategic oil facility is not a substitute. It is a transformative tool. It redefines distances, the boundaries of vulnerability, and the relationship between attacker and defender. And it does so at a unit cost that makes the strategy economically sustainable for Ukraine. Tens of thousands of dollars for a drone versus millions for a Russian interceptor missile: Ukraine has found the leverage that allows it to impose costs on an economy ten times larger than its own.

The Ukrainian Lesson NATO Must Embrace Before Ankara

The NATO summit in Ankara on July 7–8, 2026, is an opportunity to formally incorporate the lessons from Ukraine into the Alliance’s doctrines. Secretary General Rutte made this clear before the Atlantic Council on June 25: the Alliance is learning from Ukraine when it comes to drones and counter-drone systems. But “learning” is not enough—we must invest, produce, and deploy.

The 5% of GDP in defense spending by 2035 that Rutte wants to enshrine in Ankara must explicitly include a major component dedicated to the production of long-range drones and anti-drone defense systems. If NATO leaves Ankara with mere declarations of intent regarding tanks and fighter jets without incorporating the drone revolution, it will have missed the most important opportunity of the decade to address the realities of modern combat.

Ankara on July 7–8 will be crucial. I’m not saying this to dramatize the situation—I’m saying it because the decisions that will be made there, or not made, will have direct consequences on the duration of this war and the death toll in Ukraine. Every month of delay in arms deliveries, every restriction maintained on the use of Western systems, costs lives. And I expect the leaders gathering in Ankara to keep this reality in mind as they sign their communiqués.

Just War and the Defense of Ukrainian Civilians

I want to tackle the moral issue head-on. Some will object that striking refineries—even legitimate military targets—is a form of violence we should regret. I understand this argument from a humanistic perspective. But I turn it around: what is the alternative? To let the refineries continue operating so that their products can fuel the tanks, planes, and missiles that are killing Ukrainians? That, too, is a moral choice—and a terrible one.

The theory of just war, which dates back to Saint Augustine and Thomas Aquinas, recognizes that violence can be justified when it is proportionate, necessary, and aimed at protecting the innocent from unjust aggression. Ukraine, by striking the refineries that fuel the Russian war machine, meets all three of these criteria. It is violence that is proportionate, necessary for the defense of its civilian population, and aimed at reducing the aggressor’s offensive capability. There is no difficult moral dilemma here—there is a clear choice between defending Ukrainians and not doing so.

The False Equivalence I Reject

In some Western debates, we hear a false equivalence drawn between Ukrainian strikes on Russian refineries and Russian strikes on Ukrainian civilian infrastructure. This equivalence is morally and factually false. Ukraine is striking industrial facilities directly linked to Russia’s war effort. Russia is deliberately striking Ukrainian power plants that heat hospitals and civilian homes, as well as residential buildings, markets, and shopping centers.

The intent is different, the effects are different, and the legitimacy is radically different. Treating these two types of strikes as equivalent is not neutrality—it is a form of false objectivity that, objectively speaking, benefits the aggressor. And I refuse to participate in this intellectual construct, even when dressed up in the respectful language of “both sides.”

This false equivalence is one of the things that annoys me most about the media coverage of this war. “Both sides are doing terrible things”—this phrase, repeated in a tone of impartial gravity, erases a fundamental distinction: Ukraine is defending itself; Russia is attacking. This isn’t my propaganda. It’s international law. And I won’t apologize for pointing this out as often as necessary.

More than 40% of the federal budget is allocated to defense

For those who still doubt the effectiveness of Ukrainian strikes, the figures on Russia’s war economy deserve to be clearly laid out. NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte stated before the Atlantic Council on June 25, 2026, that Russia now allocates more than 40% of its federal budget to defense—perhaps even close to 50%. More than 70% of its tax revenue is absorbed by the war effort. Its sovereign wealth fund is “gradually running dry.” And oil refining output has fallen by a third.

These figures do not describe a healthy economy that can comfortably bear the cost of war. They describe a war economy that is sacrificing its future to sustain an act of aggression. An economy that is devouring its reserves, stifling its productive non-military sectors, and accumulating debts that will weigh on future generations of Russians. Every Ukrainian strike on a refinery accelerates this decline. And the faster this decline accelerates, the greater the pressure on Putin’s regime to find a way out of the war.

An $80 billion deficit and 15% government bonds

Russia’s budget deficit has exceeded $80 billion, according to a June 23, 2026, report by United24 Media. Russian government bonds are yielding around 15%—a sign that investors are demanding an increasing risk premium to hold Russian debt. The IMF, according to data compiled by the Kiel Institute, has revised its Russian growth forecast for 2026 to 0.8%, with first-quarter GDP at -0.2%.

This economic picture is not that of a stable and confident economy. It is that of a system that is drawing on its reserves to finance a war it can no longer afford based on normal economic fundamentals. And with every refinery taken offline, this picture worsens. Ukraine is not merely defending itself—it is waging an economic war that it is winning at a pace not yet reflected in diplomatic conferences.

I want to resist the temptation of excessive optimism. These Russian economic figures are serious, but Russia has shown surprising resilience since 2022. It has adapted to sanctions, found alternative markets, and curtailed its domestic consumption. An economic collapse isn’t coming tomorrow. But the trajectory is unsustainable in the long term. And that is precisely what Ukraine’s strategy of deep strikes seeks to accelerate.

The “fatigue” argument: but to whose benefit?

One of the most common arguments used to temper support for Ukraine is that of “fatigue”—fatigue among the public, fatigue among governments, and fatigue on the part of national budgets. It is true that international mobilization around Ukraine has had its ups and downs since 2022. Some countries have reduced their arms deliveries, others have quietly eased their sanctions, and still others have begun to consider “negotiated solutions” that would closely resemble a Ukrainian surrender.

But I want to turn this argument on its head: who, exactly, are we talking about when we say that Western public opinion is “fatigued”? Not the Ukrainians, who do not have the luxury of fatigue—they continue to bury their dead. Not the people of the Eastern Flank countries, who live just a few hundred kilometers from a Russian army that has demonstrated its brutality. “Western fatigue” is a geopolitical privilege that some exercise at the expense of those who do not have that luxury.

The economic cost argument: comparing the numbers honestly

Another recurring argument against unlimited support for Ukraine is the economic cost to donor countries. The billions spent on weapons, budgetary aid, and refugee resettlement programs—all of this comes at a real cost. But let’s compare the figures honestly. According to Rutte, European and Canadian allies have spent an additional 1.2 trillion dollars on defense from 2016 to 2026. Only a fraction of that amount went directly to Ukraine.

And what about the cost of a Russian victory? A Russia victorious in Ukraine is not a satisfied Russia—it is an emboldened Russia, ready for its next act of aggression. Scenarios of an attack on the Baltic states or Poland circulating in European capitals, according to The Guardian on June 27, 2026, show that military experts no longer rule out these possibilities. The cost of a war with a NATO member state would be astronomically higher than the cost of supporting Ukraine. This is a comparison that too many economic arguments against such support refuse to make.

The cost of supporting Ukraine compared to the cost of a NATO-Russia war: I don’t understand why this comparison isn’t at the center of all Western budget debates. Spending now to help Ukraine hold out is the cheapest insurance policy the West has ever had the opportunity to purchase. And yet, some lawmakers are still debating whether to fund it. This is a staggering reversal of priorities.

What Trump Did Right, Despite Himself

I have to be honest about Donald Trump. His policy toward NATO and Ukraine has been erratic, often intimidating, and at times downright dangerous for the Alliance’s cohesion. The White House incident with Zelensky, the suspension and then resumption of intelligence sharing with Ukraine, the repeated threats to reduce U.S. engagement in Europe—all of this has been damaging. But Rutte himself said it before the Atlantic Council: the allies “would not have taken such a leap without President Trump’s leadership.” Europe has increased its defense spending like never before, partly because of pressure from Trump.

This is the Trump paradox in this conflict: he is the unexpected catalyst for the transformation of European defense. By threatening to pull out, he forced Europe to seriously consider defending itself. The nearly 20% increase in defense spending by 2025, the additional $1.2 trillion spent between 2016 and 2026, and the rise of European defense industries—all of this bears, in part, Trump’s unintended signature.

The Persistent Dangers of American Unpredictability

But I’m not going to portray Trump as a strategist for strengthening European defense who had everything planned out either. His unpredictability remains the main structural threat to NATO’s credibility in the face of Russia. According to The Guardian on June 27, 2026, officials from the Baltic states and Poland are struggling to predict U.S. reactions; traditional channels of communication with Washington are less reliable; and the question “Would the United States intervene if Russia attacked the Baltics?” remains unanswered.

This uncertainty is dangerous because it could be interpreted by Putin as an invitation to adventurism. If the Russian president calculates that Trump would hesitate or refuse to invoke Article 5 in the event of a Russian attack on a Baltic state, the risk of a calculated act of aggression increases. This is why the Ukrainian strikes on Russian refineries also have indirect strategic value: they demonstrate that Ukraine—and thus the West by association—possesses real offensive capabilities that can strike deep into Russian territory. This sends a different signal than promising hypothetical responses to hypothetical aggressions.

Trump is to NATO what caffeine is to someone who is sleep-deprived: it wakes you up, it stimulates you, but it doesn’t solve the fundamental problem. Europe needs to get enough sleep—that is, to build its own autonomous defense—not just be kept awake by the fear of losing American protection. Ukrainian strikes 1,300 km deep send an important message: we can defend ourselves without waiting for permission from Washington.

External Support for Russia’s War Machine

The Ukrainian drone campaign against Russian refineries is taking place within a broader geopolitical context in which Russia benefits from considerable external support. Iran is supplying Shahed drones, the designs of which Russia is using against Ukraine. North Korea is sending ammunition and soldiers—some of whom have been captured by Ukraine. China is supplying electronic components, semiconductors, and machine tools that fuel the Russian arms industry.

These acts of complicity are well-documented, known to Western governments, and still not sufficiently sanctioned. The measures taken so far against Chinese companies circumventing Russian sanctions remain limited given the scale of trade flows. North Korea, despite its shipments of ammunition and soldiers to Russia, has not been subjected to significant additional pressure. And Iran, engaged in complex nuclear negotiations with the United States, enjoys a certain degree of “diplomatic protection” that limits sanctions related to its shipments to Russia.

The 21st Sanctions Package: An Opportunity Not to Be Missed

According to reports from June 27, 2026, the European Union is preparing its 21st sanctions package against Russia. This package is expected to include additional measures targeting refining technologies and industrial equipment. But it should also, in my view, include more aggressive secondary sanctions against Chinese and Iranian entities that circumvent existing sanctions. The principle is simple: if a Chinese company sells electronic components to a Russian arms factory, that company must pay a real economic cost for that choice.

European hesitation regarding secondary sanctions against China is understandable—no one wants to trigger a trade war with Beijing. But this hesitation comes at a cost: by allowing China to support Russia’s war effort without consequences, Europe is implicitly agreeing to indirectly finance the bombs falling on Ukraine. This is not a morally defensible position.

China is the major blind spot in Western sanctions against Russia. We’re targeting banks, oligarchs, and technology exports—but we’re leaving Sino-Russian trade flows largely intact. Beijing is supplying Moscow with the electronic components its arms industry needs, and we’re pretending it doesn’t exist because we don’t want a trade confrontation with China. It’s a short-sighted calculation that’s costing Ukraine dearly.

The Baltic States and Poland: Geography as a Moral Certainty

The countries that support Ukraine most firmly and unambiguously are those that share a border with Russia or Belarus: the Baltic states and Poland. This is no coincidence—it is geography that creates moral clarity. When you live just a few dozen kilometers from the army that has just destroyed Mariupol and razed Bakhmut, you don’t have the luxury of detached analysis.

These countries already spend more than 5% of their GDP on defense—Poland, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania are among the NATO members that exceed the set targets. They are pushing for tougher oil sanctions, unrestricted arms deliveries, and unconditional support for Ukraine. According to The Guardian on June 27, 2026, Germany is deploying a full brigade to Lithuania—its first permanent overseas base since World War II. These are concrete signals, not mere statements.

What Western Europe Must Learn from the Baltics

Western Europe—France, Italy, Spain, and even Germany until recently—took much longer to grasp the urgency of the situation. Debates over Leopard tanks, fighter jets, and long-range missiles dragged on for months while Ukraine waited under bombardment. Internal political reluctance, historic economic ties with Russia, and the comfort of a strategic culture of restraint—all of this delayed decisions that the geography of the Baltic states made obvious from day one.

The belated awakening of some Western partners has finally taken place. But it remains incomplete. And the Ukrainian strikes on Russian refineries must be understood, in this context, as a call to allies to rise to the occasion—not with words, but with deeds, with weapons, and with courageous political decisions.

I want to pay tribute to the moral and strategic clarity of the Baltic leaders, who were mocked or underestimated for years when they sounded the alarm about Russia. They were right. They have always been right. And those who ignored them—who maintained trade ties with Moscow, who built gas pipelines, who refused to take the threat seriously—bear some responsibility for the catastrophe that unfolded in February 2022.

Beyond Ukraine: A Message to the World’s Autocrats

Ukrainian strikes 1,300 km deep send a message that goes beyond the Ukraine-Russia conflict alone. They tell all authoritarian regimes watching this war—in China, Iran, North Korea, and the Gulf monarchies—that drone technology has changed the rules of military power. That a small, determined nation can strike at the heart of a large, aggressive neighbor’s economic infrastructure. That geographical distance is no longer an absolute safeguard.

This message applies to Taiwan in the face of China. It applies to the Baltic states in the face of Russia. It applies to any democracy threatened by an authoritarian neighbor. Ukraine has not only defended its own territory—it has demonstrated that democracies, when they fight with determination and ingenuity, can impose real costs on autocracies. This is a lesson from which the entire world will benefit.

The Ukrainian defense industry: a future export for allies

In the longer term, the drone industry that Ukraine has built during this war will likely become an exportable asset for its allies. Operational doctrines, the systems developed, and the lessons learned from thousands of real-world operations under combat conditions—all of this has considerable military and commercial value. As NATO seeks to develop its long-range strike and asymmetric warfare capabilities, Ukrainian defense companies will be natural partners.

This is yet another reason to support the development of this industry now—not only because it is the right thing to do for Ukraine, but because it is in the West’s long-term strategic interest. Allies who invest today in Ukraine’s defense capabilities are investing in their own future security.

The Ukrainian drone industry as a future technological partner for NATO: this is a prospect that some Western military planners are beginning to consider seriously. And it is one of the few pieces of good news to emerge from this war—among far too few. Once this conflict is over, Ukraine will be a valuable defense partner, with unique operational experience that no one else on the planet possesses.

The Human Toll as a Rebuttal to Any Policy of Appeasement

I want to conclude the central argument of this editorial with a stark return to human reality. Since the start of the full-scale invasion in 2022, tens of thousands of Ukrainians have been killed—both military personnel and civilians. Thousands of towns and villages have been destroyed. Millions of Ukrainians have been displaced within the country or have fled abroad. Russia has committed documented war crimes—executions of civilians, deportations of children, and torture in the occupied territories.

This toll is the definitive refutation of any policy of appeasement toward Russia. Those who advocated restraint in supporting Ukraine “so as not to provoke Moscow” bear moral responsibility for this human toll. Not because their intentions were bad, but because their calculations were wrong. Restraint did not appease Putin—it emboldened him. And the Ukrainian drones burning Russian refineries do more for Ukraine’s security than any diplomatic conference ever organized to “de-escalate” this conflict.

The conclusion history will draw

History will judge this period, just as it judged the appeasement policies of the 1930s. It will judge those who supported Ukraine without hesitation—the Baltic leaders, certain governments, and populations who understood from the very beginning. It will judge those who delayed, hesitated, maintained restrictions, and prioritized their political comfort over Ukrainian security. And it will also judge those observers and commentators who spoke the truth even when it was uncomfortable.

The Ukrainian drones setting Putin’s refineries ablaze from 1,300 km away are the most eloquent response to all the talk of “complexity” and “red lines.” They say: Ukraine is fighting, Ukraine is innovating, Ukraine will not surrender. And they ask the West: Will you rise to the challenge of this fight?

I’ll conclude with this question because I’m not certain the West will rise to the occasion. I hope it will. I’m watching closely. But the events of the past four years have shown enough failures, delays, and backtracking—enough to make naive optimism a luxury I cannot afford. What I can promise is to continue calling out failures when they occur, and to celebrate successes when they happen. Like today, with those drones flying over Ufa.

The Russian Economic Model Struck at Its Core

The economic structure that Vladimir Putin has built rests on a simple equation: hydrocarbon exports finance the state, the state finances the military, and the military safeguards the regime. Striking the refineries means severing the first link in this chain. Rosneft, which controls the Ufa refineries through its subsidiary Bachneft, is much more than an oil company—it is the central economic instrument of the Putin system. Every Ukrainian strike on its facilities is a direct attack on the regime’s ability to finance itself.

Russia’s budget deficit, which already exceeds $80 billion according to United24 Media on June 23, 2026, makes this pressure particularly painful. An economy that devotes more than 70% of its tax revenue to defense—a figure cited by NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte on June 25, 2026—cannot afford further losses in oil revenue without severe consequences. Ukrainian strikes are exacerbating a financial hemorrhage that is already bleeding the regime dry.

The multiplier effect of combined sanctions and strikes

What makes the Ukrainian strategy particularly effective is its synergy with Western sanctions. Sanctions prevent Russia from importing the advanced refining technologies it would need to repair its facilities quickly. The strikes inflict damage that the sanctions prevent from being repaired. This creates a multiplier effect: the damage caused by drones lasts much longer than it would under normal conditions, precisely because sanctions block rapid repairs.

This combination—which Ukraine and its allies may not have deliberately coordinated in every detail, but which operates with relentless logic—constitutes one of the most effective forms of economic pressure ever exerted on a war economy. It will not bring down Putin tomorrow. But it shortens the timeframe within which he can finance the war without compromising other economic and social priorities.

I want to be clear about what I do and do not believe: I do not believe that strikes on refineries will cause an immediate collapse of Putin’s regime. Russia has reserves, the ability to adapt, and an authoritarian system that can impose sacrifices on its population without democratic mechanisms for correction. What I do believe is that every successful strike shortens the duration for which Putin can sustain this war effort. And time, in this war, is on Ukraine’s side.

Negotiate from a position of strength, not weakness

The NATO summit in Ankara on July 7–8, 2026, is the next major diplomatic event of this war. Zelenskyy will attend with a trump card: deep strikes on Russian refineries, which demonstrate that Ukraine is taking the initiative and producing concrete results. In an Alliance where some members sometimes question the effectiveness of support for Ukraine, these results are invaluable arguments.

“Diplomacy by force”—the ability to negotiate from a position of strength rather than weakness—is the only diplomacy that matters in this conflict. Putin respects only force. He has proven this every time a position of Western weakness has allowed him to advance without consequences. The strikes on Ufa and Kapotnya are Ukraine’s version of this diplomacy of force: they send the message that Ukraine does not need anyone’s permission to strike the infrastructure that funds its annihilation.

Ukraine’s Objectives in Ankara and What to Expect

In Ankara, Zelensky will seek, in particular, confirmation of the commitment by all allies to spend 5% of GDP on defense, the acceleration of arms deliveries, and strengthened support for the oil embargo that the Baltic states and Poland are calling for, according to the Kyiv Post on June 27, 2026. These objectives are ambitious, but they are bolstered by the show of strength that Zelensky’s 40-day campaign has represented. Ukraine is not asking for handouts—it is asking for consistency.

If Ankara delivers on these commitments, the combination of Ukrainian drones and strengthened Western support could be the decisive turning point that many have been waiting for since the invasion began. If Ankara disappoints, Ukraine will continue to fight alone, with its own resources, as it has done since day one. But every day of Western hesitation comes at a price—a price paid in Ukrainian lives.

Ankara is the litmus test. Not for Ukraine—it has already proven what it is capable of. Ankara is the test for the West: Is it capable of the strategic consistency that the situation demands? Can it move from lofty statements to concrete actions, from promises to deliveries, from rhetoric to budgets? I am watching Ankara closely, and I will be the first to point it out if the West fails. And the first to applaud it if it rises to the occasion.

War Leadership as an Existential Choice

There are few moments in recent history when a leader’s character has been put to the test as profoundly as that of Volodymyr Zelensky. In February 2022, as Russian tanks advanced on Kyiv and Western governments offered him an evacuation, he chose to stay. That decision changed everything. It transformed a potentially swift military invasion into a war of national resistance. And it positioned Zelensky as the symbol of that resistance in the eyes of the entire world.

The announcement of the 40-day operation is consistent with this style of leadership. This is not a president who waits to be saved—he is a president who plans offensives, announces his intentions, and is accountable to his people and his allies. In a world where political leaders excel at diluting their responsibility with ambiguous language, Zelensky’s clarity is a remarkable political anomaly.

The Legacy in the Making: What This War Says About Ukraine

Whatever the final outcome of this conflict—and I do not claim to know it—Ukraine has already etched something irrefutable into contemporary history: a democracy has stood up to one of the world’s largest armies, innovated under bombardment, and waged economic war right into the industrial heart of its aggressor. This is not propaganda. It is a historical fact currently being written, with every drone strike adding another chapter.

Ukraine will emerge from this war transformed. Battered, certainly—the destruction is immense, the human toll terrible. But also stronger, more united, and more aware of its own capacity to defend itself and innovate. And with a defense industry that will be among the most advanced in the world, backed by unique operational experience. This is the legacy that the Ukrainian resistance is building right now, one drone at a time.

I view Zelenskyy without naivety—he is a politician, with his own calculations, contradictions, and moments of weakness. But in the broad strokes of his wartime leadership, I see someone who has chosen the greater good in the most concrete sense of the term: resistance to aggression, refusal to surrender, and the defense of an imperfect but real democracy. And in a world where so many leaders choose comfort and ambiguity, this choice deserves respect and unwavering support.

What Each Strike Says, and What It Demands

Every Ukrainian drone that strikes a Russian refinery is as much a political statement as it is a military tool. It says: Ukraine exists, is resisting, and refuses to accept the terms of its own destruction. It says: there are alternatives to accepting aggression—concrete and effective responses to brute force. It also says: we are doing our part. The rest of the world must do its part.

The Kapotnya refinery will continue to burn until 2027. The plants in Ufa have seen the smoke rising. Russian refining output has fallen by a third. These aren’t slogans—they’re facts, verified, sourced, and significant. And they’re worth more than a thousand speeches of support, more than all the conferences where well-dressed leaders shake hands in front of cameras and promise to “stand with Ukraine.” Because facts, unlike speeches, can be measured. And in June 2026, the facts show that Ukraine is waging an economic war that it is winning, one drone at a time.

A Call to the West: Move from Words to Action

The Ankara summit on July 7–8, 2026, is an opportunity to move from words to action. Spending 5% of GDP on defense, tens of billions in contracts, and unconditional support for Ukraine—all of this must be put on the table with the same resolve that Zelensky puts into his drones. Ukraine cannot do this alone. It needs allies who match its courage. And courage isn’t expressed in statements—it’s measured in actions.

Ukrainian drones are worth more than a thousand speeches. But Ukraine needs both—drones to strike refineries, and speeches that translate into concrete action. Ankara is the meeting place. Let’s be there.

This editorial is as much a statement of principle as it is an analysis. I believe that supporting Ukraine is not only right—it is necessary. Necessary for Europe’s security, necessary for the credibility of the international order, necessary to send the right message to all the authoritarian powers watching. The drones flying over Ufa are not just a military victory. They are proof that resistance pays off. And that proof is worth more than all the speeches in the world.

Signed, Maxime Marquette, columnist