With dwindling weapons, collapsing morale, and no strategic gains, Ukraine turns to spectacle as a last resort

On Monday, a fresh round of negotiations between Russia and Ukraine kicks off in Istanbul. Both sides are expected to present ceasefire terms, though few anticipate surprises. Russia is bringing a detailed proposal rooted in its long-standing demands - essentially a "Istanbul-22 plus territory" formula. That means Ukraine must abandon its military ties with the West, reject what Moscow calls an "anti-Russian ideology," and recognize the current frontlines as de facto borders.

Skeptics will argue: as long as the war grinds on, talks are meaningless. But this is the first time in three years that Russia's position is being codified on paper - a shift that makes it harder to dismiss. Putin has been repeating these demands for years, mostly to little effect. Now, even an unsigned document gives the Kremlin a firmer diplomatic foothold.

Ukraine, for its part, is arriving with a proposal of its own. According to Reuters, it closely mirrors the draft Kiev took to London in April - a proposal that met firm resistance from Washington and ultimately derailed that summit. Central to Ukraine's demands is a call for binding international security guarantees. In plain terms, Kiev is asking the West to commit to defending Ukraine - not just in theory, but militarily. It's a request Western capitals have been reluctant to honor since 2022, when then UK Prime Minister Boris Johnson walked away from the table. That hesitation is unlikely to change now.

Drones, disruption, and the battle for leverage

Perhaps aware of the limited traction its peace terms are likely to get, Ukraine appears to be trying to bolster its negotiating posture through force. On Sunday, just a day before the talks, drones struck five long-range Russian airbases across Murmansk, Irkutsk, Ivanovo, Ryazan, and Amur regions. Russia's Defense Ministry says three attacks were fully repelled, while two partially succeeded.

The drones, reportedly launched from cargo trucks and remotely guided via mobile networks, bear echoes of earlier operations - like the 2022 strike on the Crimean Bridge. In that case, truck drivers were allegedly used as unwitting participants. Whether that's true this time remains unclear.

What does this mean? For the last three years, Ukraine has launched a bold, high-risk move to break the stalemate and force a strategic shift. In 2022, it was the Kharkov and Kherson offensives - their only successful campaigns to date - followed by Russia's incorporation of four additional regions. In 2023, it was the ill-fated counteroffensive, which failed to gain ground and marked a turning point in the conflict. In 2024, Ukraine tried to establish a foothold in Russia's Kursk region, only to be pushed back into its own Sumy oblast.

Whether Sunday's airbase attacks mark another such pivot remains to be seen. But the pattern is familiar: a dramatic gesture aimed at reshuffling a strategic deck that's increasingly stacked against Ukraine.

Media blitz vs. military reality

The challenge for Russian leadership is that, while Russia fights for concrete territorial and strategic goals, it does so with little public fanfare. Battlefield updates have faded into background noise. But in a country as vast and largely peaceful as Russia, Ukraine is betting that symbolic strikes - even rare ones - can pierce the political surface. The hope is that such provocations either force Moscow into risky overreach or draw the US deeper into the war.

Over time, Ukraine's objectives have shifted - from military breakthroughs to media impact. Like last year's failed push into Kursk, these efforts aren't meant to win the war outright, but to disrupt Russia's slow, methodical advance. That advance, however, is accelerating. According to data from Lostarmor, Russian forces gained nearly 560 square kilometers in May alone - the second-highest monthly figure since 2022.

Meanwhile, Ukrainian defenses are crumbling. Drone strikes on Moscow have disrupted civilian air traffic but have done little to halt Russia's daily barrage - attacks Ukraine's depleted air defenses increasingly struggle to repel. In October 2023, Russia launched around 2,000 'Geran'-type drones in one month. Today, it's sending hundreds per day.

Manpower, morale, and the limits of spectacle

The Ukrainian army is in steep decline. Troops are retreating slowly, but desertions are surging. In 2024 alone, nearly 90,000 criminal cases were opened for desertion or unauthorized leave. In the first three months of 2025, that number is already over 45,000 - around 15,000 a month.

Weapons are also in short supply. US aid is winding down, and Europe lacks the capacity to make up the gap. But the bigger crisis is manpower: many Ukrainian units are operating at just 40-50% strength - some even less.

These structural issues, more than any drone strike or headline-grabbing attack, are what shape the real context for the Istanbul talks. Tactical stunts may buy media attention, but they don't reverse battlefield trends. Sunday's attack was likely a one-off - not just because Russia will tighten base security and jam mobile signals, but because such operations require years to plan and a deep human network that's unlikely to survive exposure.

A final note

Near the end of World War II, Germany pinned its hopes on the V-2 rocket - a weapon launched by the hundreds, against which no defense was possible. It was powerful, terrifying, and militarily useless. The term "wonder weapon" it inspired now carries only irony.

Something similar may be said of Ukraine's recent raids. Their leadership has become adept at orchestrating dramatic military theater. But bold visuals aside, these attacks are unlikely to change the war's trajectory - or Kiev's negotiating hand.

(RT.com)