OP-ED: The United Kingdom Is Reinventing Its Military Based on Lessons from Ukraine — £300 Billion at Stake

The Largest British Investment in Drones in History

The centerpiece of the plan—and the part most directly inspired by the war in Ukraine—is an investment of more than £5 billion over four years in drones and autonomous systems. Starmer called this investment “the largest British investment in this technology in history.” Minister for the Armed Forces Dan Jarvis was even more direct in his wording: autonomous systems, he said, “will give us the edge.” This statement sums up the plan’s entire philosophy: future wars will not be won by numerical superiority in troops and armored vehicles, but by mastery of unmanned systems, artificial intelligence, and autonomous precision strikes.

Tactical drones, swarms, autonomous vehicles: the diversity of systems

The range of investments is broad: from quadcopter-type tactical reconnaissance drones for infantry to long-range attack drones, including low-cost “kamikaze drones”—exactly the model that has proven decisive on the Ukrainian front. The plan also calls for unmanned naval vessels to form a “hybrid navy,” autonomous fighter jets flying in escort with Typhoons, and the creation of an Unmanned Systems Center in Swindon—Europe’s largest drone testing facility.

I look at this list and think of Ukraine in 2022, when Turkish Bayraktar drones were still a novelty available to only a few armies. In four years, drones have become the standard doctrine. The United Kingdom is taking note of this revolution—belatedly, but on a significant scale. The question that remains is: Can British industry deliver in time?

What the Donbas Has Taught Military Planners in London

The Defense Investment Plan is explicitly presented by the British government as incorporating the “lessons of the war in Ukraine.” These lessons are specific and well-documented. The first: high-intensity warfare consumes ammunition at a rate that Western democracies had not anticipated. In Ukraine, thousands of shells were fired each day—a rate that depleted the stockpiles of most NATO members within a few weeks of providing support. The British plan therefore calls for a massive buildup of ammunition stockpiles, the construction of new production facilities on British soil, and an increase in annual production capacity.

Electronic Warfare, Cyber Operations, and Continuous Adaptation as Doctrine

The second lesson: electronic warfare and jamming are just as important as kinetic strikes. Ukrainian drones were jammed, hijacked, and neutralized by Russian electronic systems—and responded by adapting their protocols in real time. This war of constant adaptation has revealed the crucial importance of electronic resilience, in-the-field software updates, and the ability to rapidly integrate new countermeasures. The British plan incorporates these priorities into its investments in cyber defense, electronic warfare, and artificial intelligence applied to combat.

The most uncomfortable lesson Ukraine has taught the West is this: our weapons stockpiles are not designed for a prolonged, high-intensity war. It is not a question of money—it is a question of doctrine. We had planned for short, technologically superior interventions. We hadn’t planned for four years of a static front line with millions of shells fired. The United Kingdom is finally acknowledging this reality. Two years too late, perhaps. But better now than never.

Replacing Type 45 Destroyers with Autonomous Vessels

One of the plan’s boldest—and most controversial—decisions concerns the Royal Navy. The government is canceling the planned replacement of the fleet of Type 45 destroyers based in Portsmouth. Instead, it is investing in six new Common Combat Vessels—designed to coordinate unmanned systems on the surface, in the air, and underwater. These vessels will be capable of deploying mine-countermeasure drones, autonomous reconnaissance submarines, and aerial defense drones. The hybrid navy envisioned by the plan represents a conceptual shift: the warship of the future as a command hub for an unmanned fleet, rather than as an autonomous weapons platform.

The Lesson from the Black Sea: The Moskva and the End of Superiority by Tonnage

This vision is a direct response to what naval commanders have observed in the Black Sea since 2022: relatively inexpensive Ukrainian naval drones have neutralized far more costly Russian ships, including the flagship Moskva, which was sunk in April 2022. Naval superiority can no longer rely solely on tonnage. It must incorporate distributed resilience, stealth, and the ability to saturate enemy defenses with swarms of autonomous systems. The British plan charts the course. Implementation, as always, will be the true test.

The Moskva at the bottom of the Black Sea, sunk by two Neptune missiles and Ukrainian surface drones—this image has become the most powerful argument for reevaluating Western naval doctrine. The United Kingdom has taken this to heart. This is not an academic luxury: it is a survival upgrade for a navy that will have to stand up to Russia in the North Atlantic if things take a turn for the worse.

The Dreadnought-class submarines and the nuclear-powered F-35As

The investment plan confirms and provides specific figures for the program to renew the UK’s nuclear deterrent: £64 billion to build a new generation of Dreadnought submarines, develop a new sovereign warhead system, and acquire 12 F-35A aircraft capable of carrying nuclear weapons. This program, which includes a major renovation of the Aldermaston and Burghfield sites (part of the Atomic Weapons Establishment), will create some 9,000 direct jobs and thousands more in the supply chains.

Nuclear-Capable F-35As: A Safety Net Against Washington’s Potential Withdrawal

The decision to purchase F-35A aircraft—the land-based version capable of carrying NATO nuclear weapons, distinct from the short-takeoff F-35B models already in use by the Royal Air Force—was announced at the NATO summit in The Hague in 2025. It is now confirmed in the budget. This decision reflects a logic of nuclear credibility: the United Kingdom wants to ensure that its deterrent is robust not only against Russia, but also in a context where U.S. nuclear commitment might be less automatic under a Trump presidency.

The nuclear-capable F-35A represents the United Kingdom’s stance: “If Washington wavers, London must be able to stand on its own.” This is not a break with the Atlantic alliance—it is a safety net. Ever since Trump called into question the automatic nature of NATO’s Article 5, this safety net has become a strategic necessity, not a luxury. And the Europeans have understood this—even if many still don’t dare to say so outright.

A Sixth-Generation Fighter with Italy and Japan

The plan confirms an investment of £8.6 billion for the Global Combat Air Program (GCAP)—the development of a sixth-generation stealth fighter in partnership with Italy and Japan. This program, known as Tempest on the British side, aims to replace the Eurofighter Typhoons in the 2030s and 2040s. It represents one of the most ambitious and costly military industrial projects ever undertaken by the United Kingdom, with direct economic benefits for the aerospace sector and manufacturing sites across the country.

Japan, Italy, United Kingdom: When Threats Converge, Alliances Expand

The geopolitical dimension of this partnership is significant: involving Japan in a European military program—even though the United Kingdom has left the European Union—reflects the growing convergence between the security challenges facing Europe and the Asia-Pacific region in the face of the same actors: Russia, China, and North Korea. The CRINK alliance fosters a spirit of democratic solidarity that transcends traditional geographic blocs. Tokyo, Rome, and London share not only an industrial interest but also a common assessment of the threat.

A fighter jet built in partnership with Japan. Five years ago, that statement would have come as a surprise. Today, it reflects the geopolitical logic of a world where Pacific democracies and Atlantic democracies face the same coordinated autocratic powers. This is good news amid a bleak landscape: alliances are expanding where threats converge.

A £28 billion shortfall acknowledged but not addressed

The Defense Investment Plan has been met with significant reservations by British military leaders and analysts. General Barrons, former commander-in-chief of the British Joint Forces, has publicly noted that the additional £15 billion falls short of the £28 billion that the Ministry of Defense had identified as necessary to address the most urgent shortfalls. The direct consequence: some equipment will not be procured, other acquisitions will be delayed, and cuts will be made to training, infrastructure maintenance, and logistics—areas that are critical but not highly visible.

The Repackaging of the Announcements: The Gap Between Political Communication and Reality

The Daily Telegraph pointed out a particularly embarrassing contradiction in Starmer’s announcements: the £5 billion investment in drones includes a 2025 announcement that already covered “more than £4 billion for autonomous systems.” In other words, less than £1 billion in new funding is actually being allocated to drones. This type of repackaging of existing announcements is a common political practice—but it underscores that the “record” figures touted warrant a critical reading of the fine print in the budget.

I don’t want to be ungrateful for a genuine effort. £300 billion over four years is a substantial figure. But an additional £15 billion when we were asking for £28 billion is only half the effort. And in the defense sector, half an effort has concrete consequences for equipment availability, soldier training, and base maintenance. Military leaders don’t complain on principle—they calculate what they can do with what they’re given. And they know it still isn’t enough.

Starmer Positions the United Kingdom at the Center of an Autonomous European Defense

A central element of the plan extends beyond strictly national boundaries: Starmer explicitly mentioned his ambition to strengthen Europe’s strategic autonomy in defense. The plan calls for investments, in partnership with Germany, in “deep-strike precision weapons”—long-range missiles—and coordination mechanisms with European NATO partners. The idea behind this ambition is that while the Trump administration continues to pressure European NATO allies to shoulder more of their own defense burden, the United Kingdom—despite being outside the European Union—intends to serve as a linchpin between U.S. capabilities and European needs.

The message at the Ankara summit: the British example as a signal to allies

This vision of a “more autonomous European NATO” is presented not as an alternative to the Atlantic Alliance, but as a way to strengthen it. The plan will be presented at the NATO summit in Ankara on July 7 and 8, 2026, as a British contribution to the debate on the Alliance’s new spending targets. The implicit message: the United Kingdom is leading by example on spending commitments and expects the same from its allies.

There is a certain irony in the fact that the United Kingdom—which left the European Union in part to regain its “strategic independence”—is now the one calling for greater collective European defense autonomy. But the irony does not diminish the relevance of the position. Brexit has not made the United Kingdom any less European in its security interests. It has simply left it more isolated in defending them.

The Transformation of the British Army

The plan also allocates significant investments to the modernization of the Army. The stated goal, taken from the 2025 Strategic Defense Review, is an army that is “ten times more lethal,” combining more personnel, enhanced armored capabilities, air defense systems, advanced communications, artificial intelligence, long-range weapons, and “swarms of ground drones.” The Commando Force will receive next-generation fast boats and the latest drone and autonomous systems technologies. The goal is to achieve a standing force of 100,000 soldiers, including 73,000 regulars.

General Walker’s warning: “ready for war by 2027”

These figures directly reflect the lessons from Ukraine: the ability to hold an extended front requires manpower, supplies, and tactical flexibility that the reduced professional armies of the post-Cold War decades can no longer provide. General Roland Walker, Chief of the British Army Staff, had publicly warned in 2025 that the United Kingdom must be “ready for war by 2027.” The Starmer plan partially addresses this warning—with delivery timelines and available budgets as the main constraints.

An army that is “ten times more lethal” is a political slogan. It deserves to be translated: more personnel, more ammunition, more drones, more training, and better infrastructure. It’s not a spectacular announcement. But it’s what the war in Ukraine reveals as priorities. I’d rather have an army with ten times as many shells than one with a brilliant new doctrine but empty stockpiles.

Sixty thousand jobs promised by 2030

The British government has explicitly presented the Defense Investment Plan not only as a response to security threats, but also as an industrial policy. The argument: investments in defense—new munitions factories, drone development, submarine programs, and fighter jet programs—create skilled jobs in the country’s industrial regions, support technology-based small and medium-sized enterprises, and strengthen the sovereign industrial base, which is itself a strategic resource. The government’s estimate: 60,000 direct and indirect jobs in the defense sector by the end of the decade.

BAE Systems, drone and cybersecurity SMEs: the British defense economy

This dual approach—national security and economic growth—is not new in the defense plans of industrial democracies. However, it is particularly well-embodied in this British plan, which establishes a £50 billion export facility within UK Export Finance to enable British defense companies of all sizes to access fast-growing international markets. Defense as an export driver: BAE Systems, Rolls-Royce, and hundreds of SMEs specializing in drones or cybersecurity could benefit from this initiative.

Defense as industrial policy—I understand the argument. But I remain wary of the temptation to justify military spending based on its economic benefits rather than on the actual threat. These are two different lines of reasoning. The valid argument for rearming the United Kingdom is that Russia threatens Europe, not that it creates jobs in the Midlands. Both may be true. But the order of priority matters.

Kyiv as a Source of Military Doctrine for the West

There is a powerful symbolic dimension to the fact that the United Kingdom explicitly presents its defense plan as based on the “lessons of Ukraine.” Since 2022, the opposite of the usual dynamic has taken hold: it is Ukrainian soldiers and engineers who have developed, adapted, and tested in real-world conditions the doctrines of modern warfare—drone warfare, multilayer missile defense, and electronic saturation—which Western democracies had not had to employ for decades. This Ukrainian expertise now informs the defense plans of London, Paris, Berlin, and Warsaw.

The West’s Strategic Debt to Kyiv

The website United24 Media, which is close to the Ukrainian government, covered the presentation of the British plan, emphasizing that the United Kingdom is “rebuilding its armed forces based on the lessons of the war in Ukraine.” This statement is not propaganda: it is factually accurate. And it says something important about the strategic value of what Ukraine has been defending since 2022—not only for itself, but for the security architecture of the entire Western democratic world.

I find that this fact is not stated clearly enough: Ukraine is the West’s military testing ground. It is paying for this role with its own blood. British, German, and Polish defense plans—all draw lessons that Ukrainian soldiers have written with their blood. This intellectual and strategic debt must translate into continuous, unconditional support commensurate with what Kyiv contributes to our collective security.

Partial Funding and Political Dependence

Any defense plan is also a political act. Chancellor Reeves accepted the additional £15 billion at the cost of cuts in other ministries—about 1% of their capital budgets. This decision has created tensions within the cabinet and could politically weaken Starmer’s successor, who will have to shoulder these trade-offs without having laid the groundwork for them. The continuity of this commitment is therefore an open question: could a new prime minister, facing different budgetary and political pressures, scale back the commitments announced on June 30, 2026?

Precedents: Announced Programs That Did Not Survive Budget Reviews

The UK’s historical track record with defense plans is mixed. Ambitiously announced programs have been scaled back, delayed, or canceled during subsequent budget reviews. The Queen Elizabeth aircraft carrier program endured decades of delays before coming to fruition. Ammunition programs have been consistently underfunded. The Starmer Plan is not immune to these structural risks. It sets a direction—but direction alone is not enough if it is not followed by budgetary discipline and political will, which only time will tell if they will be maintained.

I know what happens when a government announces billions for defense and the money vanishes in subsequent budget reviews. The United Kingdom has experienced this more than once since the end of the Cold War. What’s different today is that the threat has been named, dated, and pinpointed. If that isn’t enough to stay the course, I don’t know what will.

The United Kingdom is leading the way with action, not just words

The UK’s Defense Investment Plan comes at just the right time for the NATO summit in Ankara on July 7 and 8, 2026. At the Alliance’s previous summit in The Hague in 2025, members pledged to spend 3.5% of their GDP on defense by 2035. The United Kingdom arrives in Ankara with a quantified roadmap—2.7% of GDP in 2026, a trajectory toward 3% during the next parliamentary term, and a goal of 5% of GDP dedicated to broader security by 2035. The target has not yet been met, but this is a direction backed by concrete investments.

Donald Trump’s pressure on NATO allies to raise their defense spending to 5% of GDP has transformed the Alliance’s internal dynamics. Countries such as Poland, the Baltic states, Finland, and Sweden have already far exceeded the former 2% targets. Germany launched its own massive rearmament program in 2025. The United Kingdom cannot remain on the sidelines of this trend without undermining its credibility as the “western pillar of NATO.” Starmer’s plan responds to this collective pressure as much as it does to the direct Russian threat.

Trump may have been the unwitting catalyst for the fastest European rearmament since the 1930s. By casting doubt on the U.S. security guarantee, he forced democracies that had been resting under the American umbrella to ask themselves the real question: “What if we had to defend ourselves on our own?” ” The answer—hesitant but real—is being written into the defense plans of all of Europe. It is an irony of history. It is nonetheless a necessity.

Democratic Solidarity as an Operational Doctrine

Beyond the numbers and programs, what the British plan articulates is a strategic philosophy: the security of democracies is indivisible. The war in Ukraine is not a localized conflict—it is the first test of the resilience of the rules-based international order in the face of an armed revisionist power. If this order collapses in Eastern Europe, it collapses everywhere. If Russia wins in Ukraine, China’s calculations regarding Taiwan, Iran’s regarding its neighbors, and North Korea’s regarding the Korean Peninsula—all of these calculations will change.

This democratic solidarity must be operational—not merely rhetorical. The Defense Investment Plan is a contribution to making that a reality. With billions in commitments, it signals that London is serious. That the lessons of Ukraine have been heeded. And that democracy has decided to invest in its own survival rather than rely on luck or the restraint of its adversaries. Zelenskyy said it from the start: the war in Ukraine is a war for all of democracy. The British plan is a concrete acknowledgment of that.

The Message the United Kingdom Is Sending to NATO and Russia

The UK’s Defense Investment Plan, presented on June 30, 2026, by Keir Starmer, is flawed. It falls short of the £28 billion that military leaders deemed necessary. It contains announcements that recycle old promises. It will have to survive a change in government to become a reality. But it exists. And its existence—its quantified ambition, its clear strategic direction, its grounding in the concrete lessons of the war in Ukraine—sends a real signal to two audiences simultaneously.

A historic plan signed by an outgoing prime minister—the irony does not diminish its necessity. What Starmer announced on June 30, 2026, will have to be honored by his successor. The real question is not what was signed. It is what will be delivered by 2030, when the United Kingdom will have to demonstrate that the promised billions have been converted into actual capabilities.

In Moscow, this signal says: democracies are not disarming. They are learning. They are reinvesting. The Russian strategy of counting on Western exhaustion—the gamble that democracies will abandon Ukraine and retreat—is running up against a reality that points in the opposite direction. To its NATO allies, the message is just as clear: the United Kingdom is leading by example, and it will arrive at the Ankara summit with concrete figures to present, not just rhetoric. This dual message does not resolve Europe’s security crisis. But it contributes to it. And in the current context, that is more than just symbolic.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist