EDITORIAL: The Strikes on Moscow and the Black Sea

Why the Military Approach Complements the Diplomatic Approach

The Russian “ghost fleet” exists precisely because Western sanctions, despite their ambition, have failed to prevent Moscow from continuing to sell its oil above the price cap set by the G7. In light of this documented circumvention, I fully understand why Ukraine has chosen to impose, through military strikes, a cost that diplomacy alone has been unable to impose.

A sanction that can be circumvented with a flag of convenience and a shell insurance policy is, at its core, nothing more than a sanction on paper; a military strike, on the other hand, actually costs something. This observation should not be used to downplay the importance of the sanctions themselves, but it does explain why Kyiv has chosen to take direct action.

What I cannot confirm regarding the extent of the damage

I must nevertheless acknowledge, with the same honesty I demand of my own arguments, that no available source allows us to confirm a precise death toll for the six ships targeted in the Black Sea, nor the exact extent of the material damage sustained. This uncertainty does not change my position on the legitimacy of the strike, but it prevents me from exaggerating its results to artificially bolster my argument.

A convincing editorial is not one that invents figures to appear more persuasive. It remains faithful to what the sources allow us to assert, even when that limits the scope of the argument.

Strike at the Repressive Apparatus, Not Just the Army

The strike against an FSB coordination center in occupied Kherson deserves special attention because it targets a component of the Russian repressive apparatus located in occupied territory, rather than a strictly military target in the traditional sense. I believe this distinction does not make the strike any less legitimate: an intelligence center used to monitor, arrest, and make Ukrainian civilians “disappear” in the occupied territories is a target whose neutralization directly serves to protect those very civilians.

There is something profoundly just about the idea that an apparatus built to silence a population is, in turn, silenced itself. This conviction does not negate the need to verify, on a case-by-case basis, the exact nature of each target struck.

The Limits of This Moral Interpretation

However, I cannot turn this conviction into a license to ignore the legitimate questions raised by any strike against a target located in a densely populated, occupied area. None of the sources consulted report civilian casualties specifically linked to this strike, but this lack of information should not be presented as confirmation that there is no risk.

Methodological caution remains essential, even in a text that explicitly advocates a position supportive of Ukrainian action.

Seven ships and energy infrastructure: a clear message

The seven additional ships and energy infrastructure targeted in occupied Crimea send, in my view, a strategic message consistent with Ukraine’s position since the start of this war: no illegally annexed territory will enjoy de facto immunity simply because Russia considers it its own. I share this position without reservation.

Recognizing the legitimacy of this message does not exempt us from examining its concrete consequences for the civilian populations living in occupied Crimea, who did not choose this annexation and who, too, are suffering the material consequences of this campaign of strikes.

A Strike Must Remain Targeted to Remain Justifiable

The legitimacy of a military strike is not measured solely by the righteousness of its cause; it is also measured by the precision of its execution. That is why this editorial emphasizes: upholding the legitimacy of this campaign also requires insisting that it remain precise, well-documented, and distinct from any action that deliberately targets civilians.

I have found nothing in the available sources to suggest that these strikes in Crimea targeted civilian populations rather than identifiable energy and naval infrastructure.

Five hundred million dollars isn’t enough

The U.S. Senate’s vote approving $500 million in military aid to Ukraine for 2026, according to Militarnyi, is a step in the right direction, but it must be said just as frankly: this amount remains modest compared to the needs of a country that has been fighting a nuclear power for more than four years. I believe that Western democracies bear a responsibility that goes beyond one-off announcements.

We cannot demand that a country win an existential war while providing aid in dribs and drabs; that is asking for heroism while denying the means to achieve it.

The Gap Between NATO’s Promises and Actual Deliveries

The NATO summit in Ankara saw 32 allies commit to providing 70 billion euros in military aid by 2026, according to information released by NATO itself. But a report from the Kiel Institute, cited by RBC-Ukraine, reveals that as of April 30, only about 10 billion euros had actually been delivered. This gap, in my view, constitutes a failure that deserves to be called out directly rather than concealed behind reassuring announcements.

I refuse to celebrate a high-profile figure without questioning how it actually translates into military capabilities delivered on the ground, where the outcome of this war is truly being decided.

Building Its Own Defense: A Real Step Forward

The announcement—attributed to Donald Trump and reported by Army Recognition—of a license allowing Ukraine to manufacture Patriot missiles on its own represents, if it materializes, a significant step forward for Ukraine’s long-term military sovereignty. A nation that can produce its own air defense systems is less dependent on the political vagaries of its allies.

I welcome this announcement while refusing to present it as already in effect: the sources consulted describe it as a political statement, not as an operational reality on the ground at the time of the July 20 strikes.

What this announcement does not immediately change

A manufacturing license announced one day does not, the next day, become a Patriot missile that shoots down an Iskander; in between, there are months—sometimes years—of industrial development. This reality means we must not overestimate the immediate impact of this announcement on Ukraine’s current defensive capabilities.

In the coming months, we must monitor whether this license actually leads to concrete production, or whether it remains, like so many other political announcements in times of war, a commitment that is slow to materialize.

Eight Dead in Voronezh and Pavlohrad: A Necessary Reminder

Supporting the legitimacy of Ukrainian strikes does not mean turning a blind eye to their consequences. The toll reported by Al Jazeera for July 23—at least eight dead, including a child in Voronezh, and a Russian strike on Pavlohrad—serves as a reminder that this war continues to claim civilian lives on both sides of the border, amid a relentless exchange of strikes.

Defending the legitimacy of a war never means celebrating every single one of its consequences; a child’s death in Voronezh is never a victory, even on the side one does not support. This statement in no way diminishes my position on the legitimacy of Ukraine’s defense; it complements it.

Why This Reciprocity Does Not Call My Editorial into Question

Some will object that this reciprocity of violence invalidates any clear-cut position in favor of one side or the other. I do not share this view. There is a clear moral and legal difference between a country defending itself against an invasion and a country that initiated it; this difference is not erased simply because both sides suffer civilian casualties.

This does not prevent us from recognizing, with equal clarity, every documented civilian casualty, regardless of which side of the border they fell on.

A parallel that sheds light on the issue of control over the seas

Although there is no direct operational link, the growing maritime tensions around Taiwan—with a “significant” increase in Chinese maritime activity reported by Reuters—illustrate a broader global issue: in 2026, control of maritime routes is once again becoming a central instrument of geopolitical power, whether in the Black Sea or the Taiwan Strait.

The world of 2026 did not invent naval warfare, but it has rediscovered it—at great cost—in two theaters of conflict that are linked by almost nothing other than this same strategic reality.

What This Means for Western Democracies

This convergence of maritime tensions, in both the Black Sea and the South China Sea, should, in my view, reinforce the West’s conviction that supporting Ukraine is not an isolated issue but part of a broader challenge: that of demonstrating that territorial aggression and the circumvention of international rules come at a cost, regardless of the continent involved.

I acknowledge that this argument remains geopolitical in nature and not factual in the strict sense; it is a matter of analysis, not verifiable observation.

The Limits of My Own Conviction

I do not claim, in this text, that every Ukrainian strike necessarily complies with international humanitarian law in its precise execution; I do not have the means to verify this for each target individually. What I am defending is the general legitimacy of a campaign aimed at weakening Russia’s ability to finance and sustain its invasion—not a blank check for every operational detail.

An honest editorial must be able to acknowledge what it does not know just as firmly as it asserts what it believes. It is this limitation that I am setting forth here, without it undermining the central conviction of this text.

Why I Persist Despite These Uncertainties

Despite these necessary methodological reservations, I continue to defend the legitimacy of this campaign of strikes, because the alternative—allowing the Russian military to resupply its war effort unhindered, and letting its “ghost fleet” circumvent international sanctions at no cost—seems to me incompatible with genuine, rather than merely rhetorical, support for the Ukrainian resistance.

This conviction is not blindness; it is a deliberate position, built on verified facts and not on blind enthusiasm for a particular side.

There is a risk of escalation, but it does not justify inaction

Some commentators warn that this type of deep strike, hitting targets increasingly close to Moscow, increases the risk of the conflict escalating—or even the risk of a Russian nuclear response. I do not entirely dismiss this concern; it deserves to be taken seriously by Western and Ukrainian decision-makers. But I refuse to let it be used as an argument to demand that Ukraine abandon the means that truly weaken Russia’s ability to continue its invasion.

Since 2022, the risk of escalation has been cited against nearly every Western arms shipment to Ukraine; at this rate, the argument would have prevented any effective aid from the very first day. This does not mean that caution is unnecessary; it means that it must not become a permanent pretext for inaction.

What the recent history of this conflict teaches us about this risk

The red lines announced by Moscow since the start of the invasion—the delivery of tanks, long-range missiles, and strikes on Russian territory—have, each time, been crossed without triggering the feared catastrophic escalation. This guarantees nothing for the future, but it calls for a more measured assessment of the actual risk posed by this specific campaign of strikes on depots and the ghost fleet.

I acknowledge, however, that this assessment remains just that—an assessment, not a certainty—and that no analyst can guarantee the complete absence of any risk of escalation in the months following these strikes.

Ukrainian reporting that remains, by its very nature, incomplete

It must be acknowledged that Ukraine’s communication regarding its own strikes remains, for operational reasons, incomplete: Kyiv does not systematically detail the resources used, the casualties sustained during the operation, or the exact extent of the results achieved. This partial silence is not necessarily suspicious; it is standard operational security practice in wartime, followed by all militaries, including Western ones.

To demand that an army at war publicly document every detail of its operations would be tantamount to asking it to give up one of the few advantages it has left against a numerically superior enemy.

Why this does not undermine confidence in the broad outlines of the narrative

In my view, this reticence regarding details does not call into question the overall credibility of the Ukrainian account of these strikes, particularly because the trajectory of this campaign—increasing scope, rising frequency, and targets growing ever closer to the heart of Russian territory—is consistent with developments documented over the past several months by multiple sources independent of Kyiv.

This consistency, more than any isolated statement, constitutes the most solid foundation on which to base a reasonable judgment regarding the reality of this campaign.

A respectable position, but one that ignores the context of the invasion

A pacifist objection might argue that any military escalation—including defensive action—fuels a cycle of violence that should be broken through negotiation rather than military strikes. I respect this philosophical position, but I believe it overlooks a fundamental reality: this war did not begin with a Ukrainian escalation, but with a Russian invasion that Kyiv did not choose and to which it is responding.

Demanding that an invaded country refrain from weakening its aggressor’s military capabilities, in the name of an abstract pacifist principle, amounts, in effect, to demanding its gradual surrender. That is not a position I can defend in this editorial.

What Negotiation Requires—and What It Does Not Replace

This does not mean that I reject any prospect of future negotiations: a diplomatic solution remains, in the long run, the only way to bring a lasting end to this conflict. But negotiations conducted from a position of total military weakness generally do not produce a just peace; they produce a capitulation disguised as a compromise.

That is why I believe that strengthening Ukraine’s strike capability—including against targets such as oil depots and the “ghost fleet”—paradoxically serves the prospect of more balanced future negotiations. One never negotiates better from a position of exhaustion; one negotiates better from a position that still has the means to say no.

One Indicator to Watch More Closely Than the Others

If a single indicator were to guide my assessment of how this campaign unfolds in the months following July 20, it would be the frequency with which Ukraine manages to repeat this type of combined operation—deposits, ships, targets in occupied territory—without depleting its own reserves of drones and long-range munitions. This frequency will reveal more about the conflict’s actual trajectory than any diplomatic statement from a summit.

In my upcoming articles, I will remain careful to distinguish between one-off announcements and trends confirmed over several weeks, to avoid drawing hasty conclusions from a single episode—even one as significant as that of July 20.

My Commitment as a Columnist

Following on from this editorial, I commit to continuing to verify every figure put forward by Kyiv with the same rigor I would apply to any other government source, without allowing my general conviction regarding the legitimacy of the Ukrainian cause to lead to excessive methodological leniency toward its announcements.

This discipline, I believe, is the only way to defend a committed position without losing the credibility that makes that position valuable to public debate. A columnist who sacrifices rigor for the sake of conviction ultimately fails to convince anyone—except those who already agreed before reading him.

The strikes on July 20, 2026, against an oil depot and logistics centers in the Moscow Oblast, against six ships in the Black Sea, against an FSB coordination center in occupied Kherson, and against seven additional ships in occupied Crimea constitute, in my view, a legitimate and proportionate response by a country defending itself against an invasion it did not choose. This position remains, I repeat, a clear editorial stance, not a claim to neutrality.

It does not prevent me from acknowledging the human cost that this war continues to exact on both sides of the border, nor the uncertainties that remain regarding the exact scope of each individual strike. Defending a just cause does not require turning a blind eye to its gray areas; on the contrary, it requires addressing them, so that one’s conviction remains credible rather than naïve.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist