OP-ED: The North Holds Its Ground — Chernihiv, Bryansk, and the Next Offensive Putin Is Preparing

Signal repeaters: a detail that reveals a border

On June 19, 2026, President Volodymyr Zelensky issued an ultimatum to Alexander Lukashenko: deactivate the signal repeaters installed on Belarusian territory that are used to guide Russian drones into Ukrainian territory. These repeaters, which technically qualify as civilian communications equipment, enable Shahed drones and other navigation systems to maintain their trajectories even in the face of Ukrainian GPS jamming. Deactivating them would represent a measurable reduction in the effectiveness of drone attacks.

On June 22, 2026, three days after the ultimatum, the repeaters ceased to function. This is a quiet yet significant victory for Ukrainian diplomacy. It suggests that Lukashenko, despite his total dependence on Moscow, retains some room to maneuver for limited concessions when they allow him to maintain a dialogue with Ukraine and, by extension, with the West. This is not reconciliation—it is pure political calculation. But it is leverage that Ukraine should continue to exploit.

Lukashenko: Caught Between Moscow and Survival

Lukashenko’s position is structurally fragile. He has been in power since 1994. His contested reelection in 2020 sparked massive protests that were contained only through repression and Moscow’s explicit support. Without Putin, he is nothing. But this total dependence is also a prison: he cannot refuse what Putin demands, but he can sometimes negotiate the margins. The deactivation of the repeaters following Zelenskyy’s ultimatum illustrates precisely this game of margins.

Ukrainian intelligence, confirmed by Syrskyi, indicates that Lukashenko is “unlikely” to authorize a second passage of Russian forces through his territory. The consequences of 2022 were all too clear: increased Western sanctions, heightened diplomatic isolation, and internal resistance that has not disappeared but has merely been suppressed. A second Russian transit through Belarus would definitively confirm Lukashenko as a co-belligerent in the eyes of international law—with potentially existential consequences for his regime after the war.

Lukashenko is a prisoner of his own survival. If he says no to Putin, he risks being replaced. If he says yes to a second transit, he risks losing what remains of his international legitimacy and domestic leeway. He has shut down the radio repeaters—this may be a sign that he knows exactly the cost of full military cooperation and is still trying to delay it.

What Ukraine Has Built in the North Since 2022

Since Russian forces withdrew from northern Ukraine in April 2022, the Ukrainian military has been working tirelessly to fortify the northern border. The work includes anti-tank trenches, minefields, forward observation posts, buried artillery positions, and anti-drone defense systems. The Northern Operational Command has incorporated tactical lessons learned from fighting on other parts of the front to adapt defenses to observed Russian tactics.

A natural advantage works in Ukraine’s favor in this area: the Ukrainian bank of the Desna River is slightly higher than the opposite bank, giving defenders a tactical advantage for observation and firing. Heavy bridges capable of supporting the passage of heavy armor have been destroyed or neutralized. Any attempt by Russian forces to advance from the north would therefore require either crossing the river under fire or bypassing it via roads where Ukrainian forces have established deep defensive positions.

New drone units deployed in the north

The Ukrainian Northern Command has deployed new drone units specialized in border surveillance. These units operate continuously, mapping Russian troop movements in Belarus and the Bryansk region. The density of drone coverage along this border is among the highest across the entire Ukrainian perimeter—a direct reflection of the concerns expressed by Syrskyi regarding the likelihood of an attack along this axis.

These surveillance drones enable Ukraine to maintain a near-real-time operational picture of enemy force concentrations. If a buildup of armor and infantry were to occur in the Bryansk region beyond certain thresholds, Ukraine would have sufficient advance warning to mobilize reinforcements and activate its defenses. This is no guarantee—strategic surprises do happen. But it is a robust early-warning system that did not exist in February 2022.

In 2022, Russian forces advanced from the north without Ukraine being fully prepared to stop them. In 2026, the landscape is different: trenches, mines, drone units, and buried artillery positions. Ukraine is no longer waiting—it has built its defenses. Every fortification along the northern front line is a lesson learned from the blood shed in the spring of 2022.

Putin’s Order to His General Staff

General Syrskyi revealed on June 30, 2026, in an interview with TSN that Vladimir Putin had ordered his General Staff to prepare plans for offensive options to capture Kyiv. These plans include several possible lines of attack: via Belarus, directly via Bryansk, and potentially from other directions. Syrskyi clarified that these plans “exist” and are “being developed”—which means that the offensive intent is documented, even if the timeline and the final decision to carry them out are unknown.

This revelation is significant for several reasons. First, it confirms that Putin has not abandoned the objective of Kyiv—that fundamental war objective that had seemed to be abandoned after the failure in March 2022. Second, it allows Ukraine to signal to its allies that the north is a defense priority that warrants specific arms deliveries, reinforcements in air defense systems, and sustained diplomatic attention. Finally, it highlights the value of Ukrainian intelligence: Syrskyi knows what the Russian General Staff is planning.

What these preparations do not yet reveal

Drawing up plans is not the same as deciding to carry them out. The Russian General Staff is preparing options for all possible strategic directions—that is the very definition of a General Staff’s work. Syrskyi’s revelation is a warning, not an announcement of imminent action. Russia remains deeply engaged on the eastern front, particularly in the Donbas, in Pokrovsk, Toretsk, and Kostiantynivka. Opening a major new front in the north while maintaining pressure in the east poses a significant logistical and manpower challenge, even for an army that has been converted to a war economy.

Russia also lacks experienced officers. Casualties among senior and mid-level officers have been severe since 2022. Units formed from mobilized recruits do not have the same operational effectiveness as battle-hardened assault units. Launching a major new offensive with inexperienced troops against fortified Ukrainian defenses is a recipe for massive casualties—exactly what happened during the initial attempts on Kharkiv in the spring of 2024. These constraints do not make the attack impossible. They make it costly.

Putin has ordered his general staff to prepare plans for Kyiv. This sentence should be the headline in every newspaper in Europe. This is not a metaphor—it is operational intelligence confirmed by the commander-in-chief of the Ukrainian armed forces. Northern Ukraine is not a secondary front line. It is potentially the next main front line.

Nineteen Municipalities, Impossible Choices

Starting July 1, 2026, residents of 12 border municipalities in the Chernihiv region received mandatory evacuation orders. Seven additional municipalities were added in the following days, bringing the total to 19. For the families affected, the order means leaving homes, farms, and gardens that have been tended for generations. Many of them had already endured the Russian occupation in 2022—the scars are still fresh. Leaving again is a sacrifice that cannot be measured in statistics.

These evacuations are both a humanitarian act—protecting civilians from a high-risk area—and a political act. They send a signal to the country and the international community: Ukraine takes the threat from the north seriously, to the point of relocating its own citizens. They also mean that the Ukrainian armed forces need clear buffer zones to maneuver and operate without the risk of inflicting collateral damage on the civilian population. The presence of civilians in combat zones slows down defensive maneuvers and exposes the military to accusations of violations of the laws of war.

The Memory of Bucha and the Imperative of Protection

For Ukrainians, the word “evacuation” is inextricably linked to the memory of what happened in the towns and villages that did not evacuate—or were unable to do so—in 2022. Bucha, Irpin, Boutcha, Mariupol—these names are etched into the national consciousness as evidence of what happens when civilians remain in areas controlled by Russian forces. The Russian military has committed documented human rights violations in all of these localities. Ukraine is learning from these tragedies: when the risk is known in advance, evacuation is the only ethical choice.

The governor of the Chernihiv region accompanied the announcement of the evacuations with an appeal to families not to stay out of “emotional resistance” or attachment to their property. This is a real and constant tension in crisis communication: authorities must convince people to leave behind what is most dear to them, without making them feel guilty for their natural attachment to their land. In rural border areas, where families have lived on their land for several generations, this attachment runs particularly deep.

Evacuations in the north are not a routine administrative procedure. For every family that leaves, a home is abandoned—perhaps for the second or third time since 2022. The courage to leave is just as real as the courage to stay. Ukraine asks them for both at different times. And these families, once again, obey. That, too, is resistance.

The Exclusion Zone as a Battlefield

Beyond the Bryansk–Chernihiv axis, the Ukrainian assessment mentions the direction of the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone (the Ukrainian spelling of the Russian name for Chernobyl). This zone, made famous by the nuclear disaster of April 26, 1986, spans several thousand square kilometers in northern Ukraine. Russian forces had crossed into and briefly occupied it in 2022, exposing their own soldiers to radiation in certain areas. The Ukrainian bank of the Dnieper River upstream from this zone is elevated, giving defenders a tactical advantage.

All major bridges capable of supporting the passage of heavy armored vehicles in this direction have been destroyed or rendered inoperable. Rebuilding the capability to cross the river with heavy armor takes time—and such preparations would be visible to Ukrainian aerial and drone surveillance. This is a major logistical obstacle for any attempt to advance toward Chernobyl, although light forces and infantry units could potentially cross by other means.

Radioactive Symbolism as a Psychological Weapon

There is also a symbolic dimension to the Chernobyl direction that military planners cannot ignore. Sending soldiers to cross a radioactive exclusion zone—even though radiation levels in some parts of the zone have become acceptable over time—carries a psychological cost for the troops and a media cost for the command. Russian forces that crossed the Zone in 2022 did so without fully informing the soldiers of the risks, according to captured testimonies. Repeating this operation, knowing that Ukraine is now prepared and that international media coverage will be immediate, would be even more difficult to justify morally and strategically.

These considerations do not make the Chernobyl axis impossible—war constantly produces decisions that ordinary logic would condemn. But they add to the list of obstacles that make northern Ukraine a more difficult target than it was in February 2022. Ukraine has transformed every lesson from the first invasion into physical fortifications, leveraged natural obstacles, and operational intelligence. The terrain in the north is different. The adversary has understood this—and is preparing plans accordingly.

The Chernobyl Exclusion Zone as a battlefield—that was an image the whole world had viewed with disbelief in 2022. Ukraine does not have the luxury of disbelief. It has mapped every kilometer of this zone, calculated the radiation risks, and built appropriate defenses. The 1986 disaster has, ironically, become one of the most useful natural obstacles in the defense of northern Ukraine.

The North in Zelensky’s Diplomatic Communications

Syrskyi’s revelation that the Russian General Staff is preparing a northern offensive is not merely military intelligence—it is also a diplomatic tool. Zelensky and his teams regularly use threat assessments to maintain their allies’ attention and justify requests for specific weapons. The threat from the north justifies additional air defense systems to cover Chernihiv and the routes to Kyiv. It justifies anti-drone systems to neutralize swarms launched from Belarusian territory. It justifies discussions about long-range weapons capable of striking staging areas in Bryansk.

The E5 summit in Berlin on June 24, 2026, took place against this backdrop of concern about the north. The commitments regarding long-range weapons and coordinated air defense are a direct response to the logic of the northern threat. Ukraine is remarkably adept at transforming its threat assessments into diplomatic arguments—without exaggerating or fabricating emergency situations. The allies trust Ukrainian assessments because they have proven reliable since 2022.

Security Guarantees and Their Relevance to the North

The persistent threat to northern Ukraine perfectly illustrates why Zelenskyy insists so consistently on security guarantees and NATO membership. If Ukraine were a NATO member, Article 5 of the North Atlantic Treaty would make any new attack equivalent to a declaration of war against all 32 members of the Alliance. This deterrent framework exists for the Baltic states, Poland, and Romania—Ukraine’s immediate neighbors, which still share the same borders with Russia or Belarus. Ukraine is excluded from it, and this is precisely what allows Moscow to prepare these offensive plans.

The Ankara summit on July 7 and 8, 2026, is the next opportunity to make progress on this issue. Berlin’s commitments regarding security guarantees remain vague—no formal invitation to join NATO has been announced, and no legally binding mechanism has been proposed. The Berlin Five have stated that they support Ukraine. Ankara will have to determine whether this support is institutional in nature or whether it remains contingent on the political will of the moment. The difference between the two is the difference between deterrence and a gamble.

If Ukraine were in NATO, Putin would not be making plans for Kyiv—not because he wouldn’t want to, but because he knows what Article 5 means. Security guarantees are not a favor granted to Ukraine. They are the instrument that makes peace sustainable. Without them, every ceasefire is merely a pause before the next attempt.

The Electronic Battle on the Northern Border

Ukraine’s northern border is also the scene of intense electronic warfare. The Belarusian signal repeaters, which were deactivated following Zelenskyy’s ultimatum on June 22, 2026, served a specific purpose: to amplify the navigation signals of Russian drones launched from Belarusian territory or neighboring areas. Without these repeaters, drones operating in this zone are more vulnerable to Ukrainian GPS jamming and navigation countermeasures.

Electronic warfare has become one of the most critical and least visible aspects of the conflict in Ukraine. Every drone, every missile, and every guided artillery system relies on electronic signals for navigation, targeting, and communication. Disrupting, diverting, or neutralizing these signals is a form of combat as intense as artillery exchanges, but it takes place in an invisible realm. Ukraine has developed impressive electronic warfare capabilities, but Russia is constantly adapting its systems.

Drones as the Eyes of the Northern Front

The surveillance drone units deployed along Ukraine’s northern border function as a collective nervous system: they detect movements, troop concentrations, and logistical preparations on enemy territory. This data is fed in real time to military headquarters, which can anticipate maneuvers and prepare appropriate responses. On June 30, 2026, Ukrainian drones carried out strikes on Russian logistics vehicles in the occupied Donetsk region—the same precision-strike doctrine that Ukraine is also applying to logistics routes in the north.

This long-range surveillance and strike capability is one of Ukraine’s primary responses to the threat from the north. It does not replace ground fortifications or air defense—but it adds a layer of deterrence. If Russian forces concentrate in the Bryansk region in preparation for an offensive, they will be under constant observation. And if they present legitimate targets—fuel depots, vehicle depots, command posts—they can be struck before they even reach the Ukrainian border.

The war in northern Ukraine is largely being fought on frequencies invisible to the naked eye. The disabling of Belarusian repeaters, surveillance drone units, and electronic warfare—these are the battles that determine whether an offensive is possible even before the first tank moves. Ukraine has learned to fight in this invisible realm. It is a skill as valuable as concrete fortifications.

Poland, Guardian of the Flank

Poland is Ukraine’s immediate neighbor and one of its most active allies. It has supplied weapons, opened its borders to refugees, and maintained a vital logistics corridor for Western arms deliveries. Poland already spends 4.7% of its GDP on defense—more than any other NATO member—and has announced plans to expand its armed forces to 300,000 troops, the largest rearmament effort in Europe since the Cold War.

Poland also shares a border with Belarus—which means it is closely monitoring Russian troop movements in that territory. Polish intelligence shares its assessments with Ukraine and NATO. Poland has a direct stake in ensuring that any offensive from the north is repelled: a defeated Ukraine in the north would open a shared border with a victorious Russia, which Warsaw views as an existential threat. The convergence of interests between Poland and Ukraine regarding the defense of the north is absolute.

The Baltic States and the Systemic Perspective

Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania are closely monitoring the evolving threat in northern Ukraine. They know that if Russia manages to regain ground in Ukraine, Putin’s appetite for countries formerly under Soviet rule could grow. The head of Sweden’s military intelligence agency MUST, Thomas Nilsson, stated on June 30, 2026, that Russia plans to expand its military presence across “the entire northeastern flank of NATO, from northern Finland all the way down.” This assessment, shared by the intelligence services of the Baltic states, reinforces the idea that defending Chernihiv is also defending Tallinn, Riga, and Vilnius.

Lithuania was one of the first countries to offer security guarantees to Ukraine outside the formal framework of NATO. Estonia has maintained the highest levels of aid to Ukraine as a proportion of its GDP. These small countries, which lived under Soviet occupation until 1991, understand better than anyone what it means to depend on an unpredictable and revanchist neighbor. Their support for Ukraine is not abstract solidarity—it is concrete collective security.

The Baltic states view Ukraine as if in a delayed mirror. What is happening in Chernihiv today could happen in Narva in a decade—or sooner, if the West abandons Ukraine. This is not paranoia. It is historical memory applied to contemporary geopolitics. And these countries’ memory is perfectly attuned to recognizing the signs of danger.

The Scenario of Prolonged Latent Pressure

The most likely scenario for northern Ukraine in the short term is not an immediate offensive—it is prolonged latent pressure. Russian forces in Belarus remain in place. Sporadic border incidents, drone strikes from the north, airspace violations, and intelligence operations in the border area maintain constant tension. This pressure forces Ukraine to maintain costly defenses on its northern flank, reducing its ability to concentrate resources on the active fronts in the Donbas and Zaporizhzhia.

This is a form of attrition warfare: forcing the adversary to divide its resources across multiple fronts simultaneously without ever launching a decisive offensive on any one of them. Russia has been applying this doctrine since 2022—drone attacks on Kyiv, strikes on energy infrastructure, threats in the north—all of these pressures force Ukraine to maintain costly defensive capabilities on all fronts at once. In this context, the fortifications in the north are a vital investment that can be sustained at a lower human cost if the defenses are robust.

The Offensive Scenario: Conditions and Triggers

For an offensive from the north to be launched, several conditions must be met. First, Lukashenko’s agreement to allow transit through Belarus—unlikely according to Syrskyi, but not impossible under extreme pressure from Moscow. Second, a weakening of Ukrainian defenses on the northern flank—for example, if units are urgently redeployed to other fronts under maximum pressure. Finally, an assessment by the Russian command that the costs of a northern offensive are acceptable relative to the potential strategic gains.

These conditions are not currently in place—at least not all at once. But situations change quickly in war. The fall of a Western ally’s government, a sudden reduction in arms deliveries, a major Russian success on another front that frees up resources—any of these factors could alter the calculation. Ukraine and its allies cannot afford to wait for these conditions to be met before acting. They must act now to make these conditions unattainable.

Wars do not announce themselves. They erupt when the conditions are right, often before outside observers have even realized that the conditions were coming together. Syrskyi identified the northern threat with a precision that suggests he has done the math. The West must hear him with the same precision and act accordingly—before the offensive is launched, not after.

Living Under Constant Threat—The Human Cost of Vigilance

For the Ukrainian people, the threat from the north is not a strategic abstraction. It translates into nights spent monitoring air raid alerts, parents sending their children to other regions, and farmers who don’t know if they’ll be able to plant crops on their land the following spring. Since 2022, this constant vigilance has taken a profound psychological toll. Studies on mental health in Ukraine document high rates of post-traumatic stress, depression, and burnout—and yet a collective resilience that has surprised the entire world.

The 19 evacuated communities in the Chernihiv region are the visible face of a calculation the Ukrainian government makes every day: How long can civilians be expected to hold out, and at what point does physical protection take precedence over attachment to one’s home? There is no right answer to this calculation. There are only painful trade-offs, accepted by a people who have come to understand that national survival comes at this price.

The Meaning of the Word “Resistance” in Northern Ukraine

Ukrainian resistance is often described by Western media in military terms—weapons, strategies, battles. But in the border communities of Chernihiv, resistance also has a civilian face: farmers asking the authorities how to protect their granaries, schoolteachers evacuating their students before themselves, and elderly residents who refuse to leave and must be persuaded individually. This human fabric is also a form of defense—proof that the Ukrainian national project is alive, deeply rooted, and sustained by people who have chosen to remain Ukrainian even when that choice costs them everything.

In 2022, Putin had bet that this fabric would quickly tear apart—that Ukrainian identity would crumble under pressure. He was wrong. Four years later, the Ukrainians have not crumbled—they have grown stronger. The communities evacuating in July 2026 are doing so because they have learned the lessons of Bucha, Mariupol, and Irpin. They are leaving with the intention of returning. This intention to return is itself an assertion of sovereignty that no occupying army can easily stifle.

The 19 municipalities that are evacuating are not capitulating—they are preparing for their return. The difference between fleeing and tactically withdrawing lies in intent. Ukraine has never intended to remain absent from its own territory. It is leaving in order to return stronger, with the weapons, allies, and fortifications that the moment demands. This, too, is a doctrine of resistance.

A front that cannot be ignored

The northern Ukrainian front—Chernihiv, the border with Belarus, and the Bryansk axis—is not the front that makes headlines every day. The fiercest fighting is taking place in the Donbas. The most widely reported missile strikes are hitting Kyiv and other major cities. But the north is the front where the long-term outcome of the war may be decided—because it is the route that leads directly to the Ukrainian capital.

If Putin manages to reopen a viable northern axis, the conflict will take on a new dimension whose consequences will extend far beyond Ukraine. A direct threat to Kyiv would create immense diplomatic pressure on Western allies to negotiate a ceasefire on Russia’s terms—exactly what Moscow is seeking to achieve. Defending northern Ukraine is therefore also a matter of defending the West’s negotiating position. To fail to understand this is to miss the central issue at stake in the conflict.

What the West Must Do Now

The West’s response to the threat in northern Ukraine must be diplomatic, military, and economic. Diplomatically: maintain pressure on Belarus to remind it of the cost of any military cooperation with Russia. Militarily: accelerate deliveries of air defense systems and long-range weapons capable of covering the northern flank, in accordance with the Berlin commitments. Economically: maintain sanctions against Russia and Belarus at a level that hampers their ability to finance a prolonged offensive.

These three levers are available. They have been partially activated—sanctions are in place, weapons are being delivered, and diplomatic pressure is being maintained. But the coherence and consistency of these efforts are threatened by the domestic politics of each of the countries involved. Elections, economic crises, and media fatigue—all these dynamics work against the consistency that is needed. The Ankara summit on July 7 and 8, 2026, is an opportunity to reaffirm this consistency before the 32 NATO members. It cannot be missed.

Chernihiv is not a minor city in a peripheral war. It is potentially the next Warsaw—the city whose defense or fall determines the fate of a continent. I am not writing this to dramatize the situation. I am writing this because Syrskyi said so, because the evacuations confirm it, and because the events of 2022 have taught us to take these warnings seriously before it is too late.

What the Defense of Chernihiv Teaches NATO

The way Ukraine has fortified and organized its defenses along the northern border serves as a textbook example for NATO military planners. The lessons from Chernihiv span several areas: building defenses in depth rather than in a single line, integrating surveillance drones into the command chain in real time, coordinating civilian evacuations with military operations, and managing electronic warfare on a front that is not yet active but under constant pressure. These lessons are not theoretical—they were developed under real-world conditions of imminent threat.

Military experts from NATO countries who have observed the Ukrainian defense regularly report that the Ukrainian armed forces have developed capabilities in mobile defense, electronic countermeasures, and multi-domain coordination that exceed what most Western armies practice during their exercises. Ukraine’s northern border—with its fortifications, drone units, and preventive evacuation doctrine—is an example of how a relatively under-resourced army can maintain a credible defense against a vastly superior adversary in terms of numbers, provided it rigorously applies the appropriate tactical principles.

Transferring Ukrainian Knowledge to Allies

A formal mechanism for transferring Ukrainian operational knowledge to allied armies remains underdeveloped. European officers have participated in training in Ukraine, and Western advisers have worked with Ukrainian units, but the institutionalization of these exchanges remains piecemeal. The E5 summit in Berlin addressed coordination on long-range weapons and military AI—but did not explicitly address the systematic incorporation of Ukrainian operational lessons into NATO doctrines.

This gap should be addressed in Ankara. A formal operational exchange program between the Ukrainian armed forces and NATO headquarters would have immediate strategic value. It would strengthen the Alliance’s capabilities, reinforce institutional ties with Kyiv, and send a clear signal to Moscow: the lessons of the war against Russia are being systematically integrated into the doctrine of Russia’s adversaries. This is a form of deterrence through learning—against which Russia cannot deploy a simple countermeasure.

In four years, Ukraine has become the best defense force in the post-Soviet space. NATO, by failing to systematically learn these lessons, is squandering the most valuable strategic resource that the war has offered it. The northern border of Chernihiv is not just a defensive line—it is a military academy in continuous operation. Ankara should enroll the Alliance there.

What Syrskyi Built That Putin Didn’t Anticipate

General Syrskyi inherited an army that had repelled the first invasion from the north in 2022—and he transformed that legacy into a coherent defensive system. The fortifications, drone units, doctrine of constant surveillance, preemptive evacuations, and coordination with allies—all of this constitutes a defense architecture that Putin’s Russia did not anticipate in its original planning. This architecture does not guarantee that an offensive will not take place. It guarantees that it will come at a very high cost to those who undertake it.

This is the logic of deterrence through defense. Ukraine cannot prevent Putin from deciding to attack. But it can make that decision so costly in Russian lives, lost equipment, and documented operational failures that the potential gains are not worth the cost. Since 2022, every time Russia has attempted a major offensive—on Kharkiv, on Vovchansk, on the Sumy region—it has suffered losses disproportionate to its territorial gains. The same will be true in the north, if Ukraine maintains its preparedness.

The Price of Vigilance

But this preparedness comes at a cost. It ties up human, technical, and financial resources on a front that is not yet active. It forces the authorities to relocate civilians, maintain fortifications, and fund permanent surveillance units—all while the most intense fighting is taking place in the east. The issue posed by the northern front is not merely military: it is a matter of allocating scarce resources in a country that has been waging a high-intensity war for more than four years.

This is precisely why support from allies is indispensable—not just symbolically, but operationally. Berlin’s commitments regarding the 70 billion, long-range weapons, and air defense—they must translate into equipment deployed in northern Ukraine before the offensive is launched. Because once it is launched, delays in delivery become delays in casualties. Ukraine knows this. Its allies must learn it just as quickly.

The nineteen evacuated communities in Chernihiv are a concrete measure of the cost of a threat the world would prefer not to see. This cost is real; it is human; it is measured in displaced families, abandoned homes, and the uncertainty borne by people who have already given everything. The West, which is lulled into complacency by verbal assurances, must look at these nineteen communities. And ask itself what it will be willing to do before their number reaches one hundred.

Signed, Maxime Marquette, columnist