Attrition, drones and delusion shape Ukraine war’s fourth year

By Gwynne Dyer

“Breathe deeply, calm down and don’t go running to stock up on food and matches,” Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky told his citizens one month before Russian tanks crossed the border on Feb. 24, 2022.

American and British intelligence agencies had warned that Russia planned to invade. Zelensky and his generals did not believe it. Most European members of NATO were skeptical as well.

Part of that doubt came from lingering mistrust after intelligence failures leading to the Iraq War. More broadly, many European officials simply believed the plan made no sense. They assumed Moscow would never gamble on the idea that Russian forces could march into Kyiv and quickly install a puppet government.

In hindsight, one European intelligence official later admitted the assumption proved wrong.

Many observers shared that misjudgment, including commentators who believed Russian President Vladimir Putin would not risk such a reckless move. Instead, Putin had spent years surrounded by advisers unwilling to contradict him, leaving him isolated from outside reality.

On the very day the invasion began, Putin spent the morning hosting visiting Pakistani Prime Minister Imran Khan. According to accounts of the meeting, when Khan cautiously mentioned the invasion underway only hours earlier, Putin dismissed concerns and suggested the war would be over within weeks.

That prediction proved disastrously wrong.

Four years into the war, estimates suggest between 200,000 and 400,000 Russian soldiers have been killed. Russian forces currently control roughly 20 per cent of Ukrainian territory.

At one point in March 2022, Russia held about 27 per cent of the country. Ukrainian counteroffensives later that year reduced Moscow’s gains to about 19 per cent. Since then, despite heavy casualties on both sides, Russia has expanded its control by only about one additional percentage point.

The conflict has hardened into a stalemate largely driven by new battlefield technology. Drones now dominate the front lines, making any movement on open ground extremely dangerous. The lethal “kill zone” created by surveillance and attack drones can extend as far as 30 kilometres from the front.

The situation echoes the trench warfare conditions of the First World War. Soldiers on both sides spend most of their time below ground, sheltering from constant surveillance and attack.

The dynamic affects both armies, but it particularly disadvantages Russian forces, which must leave cover more often to launch assaults. Despite improvements in professionalism since the early months of the war, Russian forces have struggled to achieve major breakthroughs.

Drones also shift casualty ratios. Ukrainian forces reportedly inflict losses at more than twice the rate suffered themselves. That advantage largely offsets Russia’s numerical superiority, producing a grinding war of attrition.

Some political leaders portray the conflict differently. Donald Trump has argued Ukraine lacks leverage and has pushed for negotiations that would end the war quickly, even if the terms are unfavorable for Kyiv.

Zelensky must walk a narrow path. He cannot project too much confidence or risk weakening international support, but he cannot appear ready to concede either.

Wars of attrition usually end when one side’s soldiers refuse to fight or when public support at home collapses. Neither Russia nor Ukraine has reached that point.

Both sides still possess the manpower and resources to continue the fight. Recent developments favour Ukraine in some areas. Russian forces have reportedly lost access to Starlink communications networks previously used on the battlefield, and Ukraine is expanding production of new cruise missiles.

At the same time, rising oil prices tied to tensions involving Iran are helping sustain Russia’s economy.

For now, the conflict remains locked in a brutal equilibrium. Both countries appear capable of fighting for at least another year.