By Nina Bachkatov and Romain Constantin
The use of drones has shifted from anecdotal to essential in modern warfare, largely due to the war in Ukraine. No one speaks any more of a “war of another time”, with soldiers in trenches and artillery barrages. Over the course of the conflict, drones have become indispensable on land, at sea, and in the air. They are used for everything from kamikaze strikes and aerial bombardments to delivering supplies, scattering leaflets, conducting reconnaissance, and even engaging in drone-on-drone combat. It has become an industry in its own right, as shown by the increasing number of media reports on the Ukrainian war appearing as frequently in financial pages as in international ones.
From the very first days of the conflict in February 2022, unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) began to play a crucial role on the battlefield. The Turkish-made Bayraktar TB2 gained early renown for striking Russian military equipment with remarkable precision. Its success was amplified by video footage captured by the drones themselves—images that quickly became defining visuals of the war and a powerful tool of information warfare.
As the front lines stabilised, a new class of drone took centre stage: FPV (First-Person View) drones. Remotely piloted and equipped with cameras providing live video feeds, these drones allow operators to control them as if seated inside. Originally designed for racing and aerial filming, FPV drones were rapidly repurposed for combat. Their agility, low cost, and accuracy make them ideal for reconnaissance missions and kamikaze attacks. Their most spectacular use dates to 1 June 2025, when Ukraine’s special services launched a massive attack on military bases deep inside Russia, destroying several strategic bombers—part of Russia’s nuclear triad. This remarkable operation was made possible by small FPV drones transported by lorry close to the bases and controlled remotely from Ukraine.
After more than three years of war, with a notable acceleration since early summer, drones have become integral to modern combat—used for attacks, reconnaissance, supply runs, and even aerial dogfights against other drones. Once limited to niche military applications, UAVs are now being produced on an industrial scale, with both Kyiv and Moscow claiming annual outputs in the millions.
In a rapid escalation, both sides are learning from each other’s successes and failures. Ukraine has developed long-range missiles and drones capable of striking Russian territory, part of what Kyiv calls its own “energy sanctions” aimed at depriving Russia of export revenues. In response, Russia has unleashed waves of missiles and drones of all kinds against major cities, energy infrastructure, and more recently, railway lines.
Dual-Use Technology
Ukrainian operations have been widely praised in the West as demonstrations of ingenuity and technological mastery in pursuit of a “just cause”. Yet while governments and military analysts admire these tactics, others—from insurgent groups to criminal organisations—are adopting them for their own purposes. Drones have already been used by militias in Africa, which Kyiv presents as Ukraine’s contribution to the global fight against Russia. In Myanmar, drones have reshaped the civil war, used by both rebel groups and the military junta. In Colombia, a police helicopter was brought down by a narco-gang in August; in Mexico, cartels have increasingly adopted FPV drones not only for attacks but also for smuggling operations across the U.S. border.
The risk of proliferation of this dual-use technology is significant. Assembling such drones faces few restrictions, and China—the main supplier of components—imposes no meaningful export limits. Even if future regulations were introduced, enforcement would be difficult: the small size of drone parts and the growing use of 3D printing make monitoring production and transfers extremely challenging.
More strikingly, far from Ukraine’s front lines, Belgium and EU members are now facing a new type of threat imported directly from the war: drone flyovers targeting airports, military bases, and other sensitive sites. On 9 October, three individuals were arrested for allegedly plotting an attack on the Belgian Prime Minister. Investigators uncovered evidence suggesting jihadist motives and a plan to use a drone—one of Europe’s first known attempts to employ such technology in a terrorist plot against a political leader.
Business Appetites
Wars have traditionally been a source of technical innovation—along with the risk of new technologies leaking onto the black market through corruption. In the digital era, the war in Ukraine has provided a rare opportunity to test technology in real combat conditions, adapting rapidly to changing circumstances. Ukrainian and Russian engineering teams have established direct links with soldiers on the ground to refine designs and outsmart each other’s innovations. Recently, Ukraine has become alarmed by a new Russian tactic: a 3,000-strong unit working in shifts, not to target drones themselves but the pilots who operate them. Ukrainian drone operators are in short supply and overstretched.
As drones gained prominence, the country has been flooded by a curious mix of whiz-kids, former military personnel, and adventurous tech specialists—some who found no support or funding at home, others eager to test technologies in a real-war environment before selling them to established firms. Billions are available, from both the private sector and state budgets. Following Europe’s new rearmament drive, the European Commission and member states are now debating how to translate ambitious defence spending into concrete policy.
While Europe still struggles to scale up production of traditional weapons, next-generation aircraft, tanks, artillery shells, and ammunition, drones have rapidly climbed to the top of the security agenda. The President of the European Commission even announced plans for a “drone wall” along the EU’s borders, designed to detect, track, and intercept UAVs within a year. According to Politico, the ambitious project could draw on the €150bn SAFE “loans-for-weapons” scheme and the €1.5bn European Defence Industry Programme.
Ukrainian share
Ukrainian businessmen are also eager to tap these new flows of money. Ukroboronprom, the state defence conglomerate, seeks to use this opportunity to expand through cooperation with Western investors—often backed by their own governments. But it is reluctant to encourage foreign or private competitors; and it enjoys strong political backing at home. For years, it has resisted pressure from the Ministry of Defence to sell the entirety of national production to the Ukrainian armed forces, since the ministry—legally the sole buyer—offers lower prices than international markets. In September, President Zelensky authorised the sale of some “surplus” equipment to finance the development of modern weapons for Ukraine.
Meanwhile, drone proliferation is becoming a genuine threat to long-term global security: drones are cheap, easy to produce, easy to transport, and easy to use. The spread of dual-use drone technologies blurs the line between war and peace, making de-escalation and international cooperation essential. Without a concerted effort to contain these technologies and prevent their misuse, the world risks repeating tragedies such as the downing of the AZAL commercial flight near Grozny in December 2024—a grim reminder of how quickly control can be lost once Pandora’s box has been opened.