By Nina Bachkatov
It has been described as an “asymmetric offensive,” in which Ukrainian forces—under pressure on the front line—have managed to shift the balance of power by striking deep into enemy territory. The operation showcased a combination of sophisticated technology, credible intelligence, and bold execution. It began on 31 May with a series of successful strikes on bridges and rail lines inside Russia, including some in occupied territory and at least one with civilian casualties.
The most dramatic act followed on 1 June: the so-called “Spider Web” operation, more reminiscent of a Hollywood script than a traditional military campaign. It involved simultaneous drone strikes against four military airfields located thousands of kilometres inside Russian territory, reportedly launched from within Russia itself. There were also reports of sabotage at a pillar of the Kerch Bridge, cyberattacks on a Russian strategic aviation manufacturer, and leaks of military planning. According to Ukraine’s security service (SBU), preparations for the operation had been underway for 18 months.
President Volodymyr Zelensky hailed the “absolutely brilliant” strikes on Russian airbases. Reactions from Ukrainian officials and military bloggers were euphoric: “something diabolical is happening in Russia,” “an operation of intergalactic proportions,” and “our forces are number one in the world. We are our own NATO.” Ukrainian forces have also increased strikes on infrastructure in occupied territories, notably in the Zaporizhzhia and Kherson regions, leaving some areas without electricity, water or communications.
Asymmetric Diplomacy
Ukraine’s ability to strike Goliath has impressed Western military analysts, even if they agree the operations have limited direct impact on the war’s broader trajectory. Zelensky’s objectives, however, were as much political and diplomatic as military. The attacks have bolstered domestic morale, exposed vulnerabilities in Russia’s security apparatus, and sent a message to the Russian public about the costs of supporting Vladimir Putin’s war.
Crucially, the strikes reinforced an image of Ukraine not as a nation begging for aid but as a contributor to European security—confronting an expansionist aggressor. It also served as a riposte to former US President Donald Trump, who told Zelensky in their tense Oval Office exchange: “you don’t have the cards.”
The timing of the attacks coincided with a critical diplomatic window. They preceded two key events on Zelensky’s agenda: the G7 summit in Canada (15–17 June) and the NATO summit in The Hague (24–25 June). Both meetings were prepared well in advance, with diplomatic overtures by Zelensky and his chief of staff, Andriy Yermak. Their demands remain consistent: tighter sanctions on Russia, increased Western assistance, and progress on NATO accession.
Zelensky is also expected to meet Trump on the sidelines of the G7, seeking reassurance that the US remains committed to Ukraine. At the NATO summit, he aims to be treated not as a bystander on a folding chair, but as a full participant at the main table. Demonstrating military capability ahead of these meetings is integral to his diplomatic playbook.
His broader strategy also involves carefully navigating between Trump and the EU—testing how much he can capitalise on European unease over Trump without provoking retaliation. There is an ever-present risk that Trump, who once vowed to end the war within 24 hours, could simply abandon what he sees as a distant conflict led by a man he does not like.
Russia’s Reaction
Following two days of relative silence, the Kremlin denounced the Ukrainian attacks as “terrorist acts” and condemned Kyiv’s “irresponsibility.” Nonetheless, officials called for restraint, warning against “succumbing to provocations”. In their fourth telephone call, Putin and Trump reaffirmed the need to continue bilateral negotiations, noting that the Istanbul talks had “yielded concrete results.” But Russia also felt compelled to respond militarily.
It did so with conventional force: waves of drones and missiles were launched against Ukrainian cities and infrastructure, ostensibly targeting the small, dispersed production units responsible for Ukraine’s drone innovations. The capital and several front-line regions remain on near-permanent alert. In the areas Russia includes in his “memorandum” to be its, Ukrainian evacuations of civilians have increased, freeing up military resources for new offensives.
However, the Kremlin’s rhetoric has escalated, describing the 1 June attacks as an “existential threat” to Russian national security—language that, under Russia’s military doctrine, could theoretically justify a first use of nuclear weapons.
Despite this, Moscow has been notably cautious in its tone toward Washington. Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov emphasised the importance of continued engagement with the US and expressed “gratitude” for Washington’s efforts to mediate a settlement. Russian officials also made much of Trump’s claim that Kyiv did not notify him in advance of the 1 June attacks—an omission that could wound the former president’s ego, but also raises questions about the current state of US-Ukrainian intelligence cooperation.
A Polarised West
Neither Putin nor Zelensky appreciated Trump’s characterisation as “children fighting in a park.” But both have a stake in keeping the former president engaged in the search for a settlement. For Moscow, bilateral dialogue with Washington legitimises its global stature—allowing Putin to discuss issues such as Iran or the Middle East alongside other major powers, notably China. In this framing, Ukraine is a secondary, albeit persistent, irritant.
Kyiv’s recent strikes, including against Russian strategic bombers and early-warning radar systems in May, have also unsettled some figures in the US military establishment, concerned that such actions could escalate into a direct confrontation. Yet for Ukraine, continued American support is critical. Few in Kyiv believe the EU has the unity, resources, or political resolve to replace the US if it retreats from its leadership role.
Immediate future
European leaders are only beginning to reckon with what “supporting Ukraine by all means, for as long as it takes” actually entails—especially as they face domestic fiscal constraints and fragile coalition governments.
For now, all signs point to further escalation in the coming weeks, particularly if Ukraine’s warnings of a summer Russian offensive materialise. One of the few tangible outcomes of the Istanbul talks—prisoner exchanges—has been delayed, with each side accusing the other of sabotaging peace efforts.
Meanwhile, drones—credited with as much as 60 per cent of Ukrainian battlefield successes—continue to shift the balance. Their potential extends beyond military strategy, raising concerns among police and policymakers alike. As the technology becomes more accessible, its use by terrorists, rioters, or lone actors appears increasingly plausible.
In that sense, the recent Ukrainian attacks were indeed “historic” and “symbolic”—terms often used to describe events whose ultimate consequences remain uncertain, but whose impact cannot be ignored.