This has now become routine: Ukrainian long-range drones are striking oil and gas terminals and refineries along Russia’s coastlines—in the Baltic and Black Seas—as well as in the Ural region. Moscow is also within range of Ukrainian strikes. Ukraine thus possesses the capability to strike deep into Russian territory. Better still, it has become a fully-fledged geostrategic player—a fact the West is slow to recognize.
Undoubtedly, the deep strikes by Ukrainian drone operators in recent weeks are changing the strategic landscape: with a range of up to 1,500 or even 2,000 kilometers, far behind Russian lines, well beyond the “second echelon” (command posts, artillery, ammunition depots, fuel stocks, etc.). Russia’s capital, seldom targeted by Ukrainian drones until now, is not spared. Moreover, these are repeated strikes, not a one-off show of force—that is, a military display intended to impress or save face.
The capacity to escalate
It seems like a long time ago when Western capitals debated whether to deliver Franco-British cruise missiles (Scalp/Storm Shadow) or German Taurus missiles (which were in fact never delivered), whose theoretical range capped out at 500 kilometers (slightly less for the Scalp/Storm Shadow, slightly more for the Taurus). Or the gray areas surrounding the performance of the Himars, which were certainly effective but deliberately “restricted” by the Americans in order to carefully control the escalation to extremes.
Global peace, it was believed in Western capitals, required that Vladimir Putin be allowed the exclusive right to escalate; this villainy was presented as part of a grand strategy intended to offer the Kremlin leader a “way out.” From now on, Russia no longer holds a unilateral advantage in the realm of long-range strikes: Ukraine regularly conducts military operations beyond the battlefield and the theater of operations. Drone units are making their impact at the tactical and operational levels, but also strategically, contributing more directly to the “desired end state” (the war aims). This is why Vladimir Putin, by launching a dual-capability (conventional and nuclear) Oreshnik missile on May 24, is once again brandishing the nuclear threat (see also the military-nuclear exercises held in Belarus from May 19 to 21).
Contrary to what was feared, these Ukrainian long-range strikes—unprecedented in their scale and frequency—are preventing Russia from fully benefiting from the rise in oil prices caused by the war in Iran and the blockade of the Strait of Hormuz. According to the most common estimates, approximately two-fifths of Russia’s oil and gas export capacity is reportedly neutralized (ports and terminals, refineries), temporarily out of commission. Of course, these strikes will need to be repeated to maintain pressure on the Russian energy system.
As a result, the rise in oil prices and the easing of U.S. sanctions on shipments from Russia’s “ghost fleet” are offset by the decline in Russian volumes delivered to importers: oil and gas revenues will not be enough to prevent stagflation (the Russian central bank’s key interest rate, over 14%, gives an idea of the actual level of inflation), or even a recession. What’s more, the Russian population is now seeing and feeling the effects of the war: images of the damage caused, rising gas prices, internet outages, a “scaled-back” celebration of May 9, 1945, and increased pressure on youths to enlist as soldiers (particularly in universities). In Moscow, there is once again talk of a mass mobilization (The Moscow Times, May 25, 2026).
This will not be enough to turn Russian public opinion around but could dampen enthusiasm and reveal cracks. “That’s something,” as the song goes. Let us recall the feigned contrition of the “crypto-Russians” who, in the media in early 2025, were announcing Ukraine’s inevitable surrender. Caught in a vise between Russian military pressure and Donald Trump’s coercive diplomacy, Volodymyr Zelensky was supposed to resign himself to the inevitable and even seek refuge somewhere in the world, far from Putin’s wrath. “We told you so,” they repeated. A year and a half later, Ukraine is holding firm and its armies are regaining the initiative.
Should we speak of a “strategic turning point,” or even a “turning of the tide”? (to quote Churchill). Let’s not jump to conclusions. Russian offensives continue, Kremlin spokesperson Dmitry Peskov persists in his maximalist statements, and the regime lives by and for war. Sergei Lavrov threatens to destroy Kyiv. If we place this conflict within the global geopolitical context and the worldwide balance of power, events seem to point toward a tightening of alliances between the People’s Republic of China, Islamic Iran, and Russia—all bolstered by the course of events in the belief that the West’s decline is inevitable, that their time has come (“This is our time! ”).
A Lesson on Objects
In fact, the incompetence of the administration in charge in Washington, the strategic impasse in the Persian Gulf (the premature halt to the bombings shattered U.S. momentum), the drawdown of forces in the Asia-Pacific theater, and the transatlantic crisis provoked by Donald Trump and the resulting doubts about NATO’s future are all reasons for hope for Moscow, Beijing, Tehran, and Pyongyang. Generally speaking, the profound shaking of U.S. alliances around the world (previously its comparative advantage) benefits the revisionist camp. Its leaders are under no illusions about the East-West strategic divide. They seek to divide the West to weaken it further, by pitting the United States against Europe or vice versa. The maneuver is crude but effective, as both Europe and America readily play along (the culture of the showbiz society does not facilitate transatlantic diplomacy either).
Clearly, the overall strategic situation should not be reduced to a Russian-Ukrainian confrontation; the global geopolitical level needs to be fully taken into account. Even before the war in Ukraine, which began in 2014, Vladimir Putin had developed a “thought-world” regarding the future of the international system and the balance of power, which, unfortunately, is not being challenged; it has even been reinforced. In this worldview, the war in Ukraine is merely a battlefield in a much broader and multidimensional conflict: a sort of global hegemonic war, that is, a world conflict unfolding “in pieces,” across multiple strategic levels and geopolitical theaters. The Persian Gulf, as well as Taiwan and the Asian Mediterranean, are other locations and areas where American resolve and Western unity are being put to the test.
Finally, let us recall that propagandist-historiographer Vladimir Medinsky (Zhdanov’s epigone), during a meeting with a Ukrainian diplomatic delegation, invoked the memory of the Great Northern War (1700–1721): ultimately, the Russian Empire had defeated Sweden and seized the Baltic coast. Mentioning this historical fact was not bragging or a mere tool in psychological warfare but a sure indicator of the mentality and mindset of the leaders of Russia. This brings us back to the fact that the Russian regime is structured and adapted with a view toward permanent war, the “golden age” of the Kremlin and the siloviki.
In truth, this is an age-old truth regarding the morphogenesis of states in the modern history of the West: “War made the state and the state made war” (Charles Tilly). But this truth has been forgotten by Western postmodernity, whose proponents claimed to be ushering humanity into a post-political world—some through economism, others through humanitarianism. On this point, it is not a good sign to see the resurgence of the discourse of a “dreamed-of Europe,” whose moralism, legalism, and predictability are supposedly assets in the face of American hubris. This worn-out rhetoric has never served any purpose other than to justify the disarmament of European countries and to mask their collective impotence. Should we persist in this direction?
Nor should the expression “strategic turning point” lead us to believe that Ukraine is in the home stretch, with a ceasefire on the horizon in the near future. It is important to embrace the idea of a long war, whose forms and intensity may vary, but which reflects the reality of relations between Russia and the West, with institutional Europe (the European Union) in the front row. According to the paradoxical logic of strategy, it is by reasoning in this way, and by considering the consequences of this outlook (military budgets, military-industrial cooperation, the Europeanization of NATO, Ukraine’s integration into European defense, etc.) that we can hope to see the end of this war and the conclusion of a peace favorable to Ukraine, Europe, and the West as a whole. Such a perspective requires a keen awareness of the “epochal moment” we are experiencing.
To conclude
Regardnig Ukrainian strategic strikes, it appears that Ukraine is decidedly not some sort of proxy force for NATO (the leitmotiv of Russian propaganda), but a fully-fledged geostrategic player, capable of waging its own war (the Ukrainian government is no longer “restrained”) and of using its military strength to expand its diplomatic front—in the Persian Gulf, the Caucasus, and perhaps Central Asia in future. Dependence on the United States is far less significant than it was just a year ago, and Ukraine could, if necessary, expand the scope of the conflict—whether overt or covert.
This is a practical lesson in political-strategic action that is worth far more than any constructivist discourse on European “strategic autonomy” (method over mere rhetoric about method). Ukraine is undergoing a transformation, and those who sought to dictate the terms of a future peace to it are getting a taste of their own medicine. The petty realism of the “advisors” has diminished their actual power to command and influence the course of the war. On both sides of the North Atlantic, it must be understood that there will be no redistribution of responsibilities or burden-sharing without the active participation of Ukraine, the West’s first line of defense against the Sino-Russian Greater Eurasia.
Associate professor of history and geography and researcher at the French Institute of Geopolitics (University of Paris VIII). Author of several books, he works within the Thomas More Institute on geopolitical and defense issues in Europe. His research areas cover the Baltic-Black Sea region, post-Soviet Eurasia, and the Mediterranean.