Cam Rea is a Military Historian and has published several books and written numerous articles for Strategy & Tactics Press, Ancient Origins, and Classical Wisdom Weekly.
Trump’s National Security Strategy of the United States of America document is short-sighted in its long-term strategic architecture, but not necessarily short-sighted in the tempo of modern conflict, where political and military incentives often reward rapid repositioning. Adaptability over consistency carries significant political advantages. Yet even when adaptability is prioritized over fixed positions, one can still be consistent in one’s adaptability. In this way, adaptability itself becomes a coherent and recognizable strategic posture, providing a framework for action that is both flexible and systematically applied.
What happens after the war ends in Ukraine—and it will—is the one subject most policymakers skirt, and perhaps with good reason. Because the day after is not a celebration, it is a reckoning.
Ukraine will not return to what it was in 2021. It will awaken to something far more unsettling: a society exhausted by war, disillusioned with its leaders, and divided by conflicting visions of what the country was supposed to become, regardless of political identity. The sentiment of betrayal by politicians who overpromised, by allies who underdelivered, by a strategy sold as inevitable victory, will fester. When that happens, the external enemy evaporates, and the internal enemies become visible.
Paraphrasing James C. Davies: nations don’t break from weakness, but from the collapse of the expectations they were led to believe—often for someone else’s agenda. Ukraine risks entering a postwar environment defined not by Russian aggression, but by Ukrainian fragmentation—regional mistrust, ethnic resentments, ideological vendettas, and political scapegoating—basically a hellscape that will affect all facets of life. That is how Balkanization begins: not through secession, but through the mentality of it. The idea that one’s real enemies live closer than Moscow has already taken root. And the more I think about it, the more I realize that “close” doesn’t just mean political factions or regional divisions within Ukraine. It also means the people who fled. When millions sought refuge in places like Poland, France, Germany, and elsewhere, they escaped the war physically—but they will return to a country transformed, hardened, and angry.
Those who stayed and fought may look at those who left not as fellow citizens coming home, but as outsiders who abandoned them when everything was on the line. Resentment is a powerful force, especially in a society held together by shared suffering. And when the war ends, those refugees will walk back across the border not to open arms, but to suspicion. They will be seen as people who missed the crucible, who didn’t carry the burden, who didn’t bleed with everyone else — yet now expect to reclaim the full privileges of citizenship.
This is how social fractures deepen: not only between east and west, soldier and politician, nationalist and pragmatist — but between those who endured and those who escaped. The enemy “close by” becomes not just the internal divisions born from war, but the distrust of those returning from safety to a nation that no longer sees them as the same.
But the internal fractures are only half the story. The other half is what leaves the country entirely.
This war has produced a generation of men who know nothing but combat. Many will return home to an economy that cannot absorb them—no jobs, no prospects, and no reason to embrace a peace that feels like defeat. That is when the training they received, the weapons they carried, and the networks they formed become a different kind of currency.
When the war ends, Ukraine—and Russia—will not simply demobilize soldiers. They will release them into a global marketplace where violence is both a commodity and a career. What emerges next is a conflict market for mercenaries: a worldwide, often illicit, and highly lucrative trade in private military services, where hardened fighters are hired for combat, security, training, or political enforcement.
Peace creates unemployment. The world provides opportunities. This market thrives on instability, and it will eagerly absorb thousands of men who have spent years learning the trade of war. For these veterans—Ukrainian, Russian, Chechen, and foreign volunteers (Colombian)—their experience becomes a portable skill set. Whether for money, purpose, or simply because peace offers them nothing, many will migrate into this shadow economy of conflict zones stretching from the Sahel to the Caucasus to the Middle East. Here, violence is no longer tied to national defense. It becomes transactional.
Ukraine will face a double blow: a country struggling with its identity at home while fueling instability abroad. The front lines may stop moving in Ukraine, but the war will continue—in the identities people cling to, and in the fighters who take their craft elsewhere. The tragedy is not merely that the war could have been avoided. It’s that its consequences will outlive the signatures on any peace agreement.
In this undated political cartoon about U.S. expansionism in the Pacific, Uncle Sam straddles the Americas while wielding a big stick inscribed with the words “Monroe Doctrine 1824-1905.” The stick is a metaphor for military force. The caption reads “Expansion! The western patrol’s long stretch.” Getty Images.
Introduction: The Return of an Old Doctrine
Two centuries after President James Monroe warned European powers against interference in the Western Hemisphere, the United States finds itself resurrecting the spirit—if not the letter—of that doctrine. Today, the adversaries are no longer colonial monarchies but twenty-first-century powers: China and Russia.
The battleground is not Cuba or Nicaragua, like in the 1960s or 1980s, but Colombia and Venezuela, where the United States now invokes the familiar rhetoric of the “war on drugs” while pursuing a broader, unspoken aim—to curtail Eurasian influence and maintain strategic dominance in its own hemisphere.
What is unfolding in Colombia and Venezuela is a hemispheric echo of the Thucydides Trap—where the United States, long the unchallenged hegemon of the Americas, now confronts the creeping advance of rising Eurasian powers. The “drug war” is real, but it is also a symptom of strategic anxiety: the fear of displacement in its own backyard. At the heart of that anxiety stand Colombia and Venezuela—the lynchpins of the hemisphere’s balance:
Colombia, the two-ocean gateway
Venezuela, the energy titan with the world’s largest oil reserves
Together, they form the pressure point where old doctrines collide with new realities.
Colombia: The Fulcrum of Two Oceans
Few nations are as strategically crucial to the Americas as Colombia. It’s the only South American nation with access to both the Caribbean Sea and the Pacific Ocean. That dual maritime identity is almost unmatched.
Militarily, this makes Colombia a hemispheric hinge—a base from which U.S. forces can project power into both oceanic theaters, monitor transnational trafficking routes, and maintain logistical access to the Panama Canal and the Andean corridor.
For Washington, losing influence in Colombia would not simply mean losing an ally; it would mean sacrificing a key strategic partner and ceding maritime control over the entire northern arc of South America. This space doesn’t just connect Atlantic trade routes to Pacific supply chains—it links the Caribbean directly to the Indo-Pacific strategic arena.
But the very geography that makes Colombia indispensable to Washington also makes it irresistible to its rivals. In recent years, Bogotá has charted a more independent course—restoring ties with Venezuela, distancing itself from U.S. policy, and opening economic channels with China. Under President Petro, Bogotá has reoriented its foreign relations around regional autonomy rather than dependency, marking the end of automatic alignment with Washington—for now. This shift has unsettled the United States. For decades, Colombia was the cornerstone of U.S. influence in Latin America—a reliable base for counternarcotics, surveillance, and regional diplomacy. Yet the landscape is shifting. China is now Colombia’s second-largest trading partner, investing capital in infrastructure, as seen in Venezuela, while Russia’s influence extends through its deepening alliance with Caracas. Together, these powers are quietly eroding U.S. dominance in the one region Washington once considered untouchable. Now, it is a matter of strategic competition.
The “Drug War” and the Strategic Mask
Officially, U.S. operations in Colombia and neighboring Venezuela are framed in the language of counternarcotics—targeting drug cartels, trafficking networks, and the corruption they sustain. But beneath that language lies a more complex reality.
The narrative surrounding the “drug war” gives Washington legitimacy to carry out covert operations in the region. This policy masks its true intentions, enabling the U.S. to deploy resources, strengthen regional alliances, and ultimately justify interventions that align with its broader geopolitical objectives.
In practice, it operates as a strategic mask for the containment of Chinese and Russian economic and military penetration. This is not to say the drug problem is imaginary. This is not to say that drug trafficking, cartel violence, and state collusion remain serious challenges, because it does, to varying degrees. Yet the U.S. emphasis on these threats conveniently aligns with its larger geostrategic anxieties—namely, the encroachment of rival powers in its historic sphere of influence.
Russia’s Footprint: Military Presence and Political Shielding
Russia has entrenched itself as Venezuela’s principal military patron. Since the early 2000s, Moscow has sold billions of dollars’ worth of arms to Caracas, including Sukhoi fighter jets, Mi-series helicopters, S-300 surface-to-air systems, and T-72 tanks, among other items. Russian advisers and technicians maintain and train Venezuelan forces, while joint naval and air exercises routinely project power into the Caribbean.
Beyond the military sphere, the Russian state has embedded itself in Venezuela’s oil industry through government-to-government financing, naphtha supplies, technical assistance, and bilateral energy agreements—both to gain leverage and to help Caracas circumvent U.S. sanctions. The relationship functions as mutually assured protection between two sanctioned states.
Moscow’s objective is not merely commercial. It is symbolic and strategic: to plant a flag in America’s backyard and show that Russia can still challenge U.S. power far from Eurasia.
China’s Economic Entrenchment
While Russia supplies arms and advisers, China supplies money and infrastructure. Over the past two decades, Beijing has extended more than $60 billion in loans to Venezuela, making it China’s largest debtor in the Western Hemisphere. Chinese firms have invested heavily in mining, telecommunications, and oil projects, while digital giants such as Huawei have established surveillance and communications networks across Venezuela.
In Colombia, China’s footprint is subtler but growing—focused on infrastructure, technology, and trade diversification. As Bogotá seeks alternatives to U.S. capital and military aid, Beijing offers credit lines and construction deals that quietly bind local economies to Chinese supply chains.
For Washington, this is the real threat: a slow economic colonization of the hemisphere under the guise of development and partnership.
Venezuela: The World’s Largest, and Dirtiest, Oil Prize
At the heart of this regional struggle lies oil—an immense and paradoxical resource. Venezuela holds the world’s largest proven reserves, surpassing even Saudi Arabia’s. Yet most of it is extra-heavy, sulfur-rich crude—the infamous “dirty oil”—which is costly to extract, energy-intensive to refine, and environmentally ruinous to process.
This reality breeds a dual dynamic: vast potential wealth locked behind near-total dependence on foreign technology and capital. For China and Russia, Venezuelan oil is strategic leverage—a wedge into Western markets and a grip on a resource that still powers the global economy. For the United States, it is both a prize and a problem: a colossal reserve that cannot be ignored, even as sanctions and politics block the path.
Monroe Doctrine 2.0
What is unfolding in Colombia and Venezuela today carries the unmistakable imprint of a modern Monroe Doctrine—repackaged for an era of multipolar rivalry.
Era
Rival Powers
U.S. Justification
Underlying Motive
19th Century
European Empires
Protect hemispheric sovereignty
Secure U.S. primacy in the Americas
Cold War
Soviet Union & Cuba
Contain communism
Prevent ideological and military encroachment
21st Century
China & Russia
Combat narcotics and corruption
Counter Eurasian influence and protect access to resources
In one sense, the language has evolved—from sovereignty to security, from colonialism to cartels—but the core principle endures: no external great power shall dominate the Western Hemisphere.
Conclusion: The Shadow Doctrine
Whether framed as counternarcotics, democracy promotion, or regional stability, U.S. actions in Colombia and Venezuela reveal a deeper continuity of purpose. The Monroe Doctrine never vanished—it evolved.
Colombia’s two-ocean gateway, Venezuela’s vast “dirty oil,” and the rising presence of China and Russia have fused to make northern South America the new proving ground for America’s hemispheric resolve. The “drug war” is real—but it also serves as cover for something older, larger, and far more strategic: a shadow war for influence, waged under the banner of security, in a region where geography and resources once again dictate the balance of power.
Neo–Deep Battle Fires: Russia’s Drone and Missile Campaign Across Ukraine (Oct 2025)
Earlier this week, a map shared on X by Big Serge visualized Russia’s ongoing drone and missile campaign across Ukraine in October 2025. Such maps have become predictable, yet the growing tempo and scope of these strikes highlight a doctrinal evolution — the application of deep battle logic through modern precision fires. Call it Neo–Deep Battle Fires.
Each colored line or arrow usually represents a specific category of munition: Red / Orange lines: cruise missiles (e.g., Kalibr, Kh-101, Iskander-K) Yellow / Green lines: Shahed/Geran-2 loitering drones Blue or Purple lines: air-launched missiles (e.g., Kh-22, Kh-59) These converge on Ukrainian cities and regions, including Kyiv, Kharkiv, Odesa, Dnipro, Zaporizhzhia, and Lviv.
What is Deep Battle?
If you’re unfamiliar with the term, see my longer piece Soviet Deep Operations Doctrine: Origins and Key Theorists. Briefly: Soviet Deep Battle was developed in the 1920s–1930s to break the stalemate of positional warfare. It used combined-arms echelons to concentrate mobility and shock at decisive points, allocating minimum forces to secure flanks while the main mobile force punched deeply into the enemy’s operational depth. The goal was to destroy the enemy’s command, logistics, and reserves — collapsing the entire defensive system rather than grinding down a frontline by attrition.
A central component of classical Deep Battle was massive artillery and airpower: preparatory barrages to blind and suppress defenders, followed by waves of mechanized exploitation.
Artillery’s historical role
Artillery — the “god of war” — enabled Deep Battle by suppressing defenses, destroying command nodes, and disrupting logistics far behind the frontline. In the interwar years and during World War II, synchronized indirect fires, air strikes, and maneuver created windows of opportunity for breakthroughs and deep exploitation.
Note: “Deep Battle Fires” is not an official Soviet or Russian doctrinal label. It’s an analytical term used to describe the practice of applying fires deep into an opponent’s system.
Russian artillery and fires today
Russia’s contemporary fires emphasize precision and efficiency. Drones provide spotting, terminal guidance, and battle-damage assessment, while modern artillery employs precision-guided munitions (PGMs) for greater accuracy and efficiency. Smart shells have made targeting far more precise.
Increased Vulnerability: Dense troop concentrations are now highly vulnerable to detection and strike, forcing units to disperse and dig in. What artillery cannot destroy, first-person-view (radio-controlled) drones can—serving as smart shells, while others act as miniature cruise missiles.
Centralized vs. Decentralized: While long-range strikes remain centrally coordinated, drone integration has enabled greater decentralization at the tactical level, creating a hybrid fire-control model. Where WWII-era doctrine relied on massed, saturating barrages, modern practice prefers fewer, more accurate strikes supported by sensor networks.
Key changes include:
Shift to accuracy: Fewer rounds, higher probability of effect per shot.
Drone integration: Unmanned systems enable targeting, correction, and assessment in near real-time.
Precision munitions: Guided artillery and smart projectiles increase lethality per round.
Dispersal & vulnerability: Dense concentrations are easier to detect and strike, driving forces to disperse.
Mix of centralization/decentralization: Tactical decentralization for survivability, operational centralization for coordinated long-range fires.
Comparative summary
WWII Deep Battle (classical)
Mass & quantity: massed artillery barrages.
Preparatory barrage: large pre-attack fires to suppress and blind.
High rate of fire: intense short windows of saturation.
Decisive blunt effect: artillery as a sledgehammer enabling mechanized exploitation.
Modern Russian Fires (Neo–Deep Battle Fires)
Shift to accuracy: “less is more” — maximize effect per round.
Integrated with drones: sensor-to-shooter links improve efficiency.
Precision-guided munitions: smart shells and guided munitions.
Improved counterbattery: rapid detection and interdiction of enemy guns.
Increased vulnerability: dense formations are high-value, high-risk targets.
Operational effect and implications
Russia’s massed drone and missile strikes project effects across Ukraine’s depth, mirroring Deep Battle’s objective: degrade logistics, morale, and sustainment beyond the front. Drones act as low-cost precision bombers and guided weapons, saturating air defenses and forcing Ukraine to disperse forces across a far wider area.
Operational outcomes include:
Attrition by depth: continuous pressure on logistics, power, and transport erodes operational tempo.
Spread of defenses: units and air defenses are stretched thin, reducing local combat superiority.
Strategic paralysis: a reactive defender loses initiative and offensive options.
Systems vulnerability: concentrated logistics and energy nodes are high-payoff targets; predictable transport corridors enable persistent interdiction.
Unlike in World War II — when Deep Battle focused on the front line and the operational depth immediately behind it — modern Russian operations have expanded the concept to encompass an entire national battlespace. Russia is gradually extending vertical envelopment across the full breadth of Ukraine, employing drones, loitering munitions, and missile strikes to make every layer of Ukrainian territory, from trench to power grid, unsafe.
Neo–Deep Battle Fires preserves the classical Deep Battle objective — collapsing an opponent’s defensive system across depth — but replaces massed, saturating barrages with networked presision using automation and AI: drones, precision‑guided munitions, and sensor‑to‑shooter links, together with strike assessment in near‑real time, create a semi‑autonomous cycle of reconnaissance, targeting, and destruction that achieves the same operational effect through surgical, distributed fires rather than brute volume.
The result is an evolved form of Deep Battle: not confined to linear fronts or shallow depths, but multidimensional—horizontal, vertical, and informational. The tools have changed—from barrages to algorithms, from mass to precision—but the logic endures: to paralyze the enemy’s defensive system across the total battlespace.
Valery Zaluzhny and Viktor Muzhenko, two former leaders of Ukraine’s armed forces who remain active in various roles, have recently offered starkly similar assessments of the war from different perspectives. Muzhenko diagnoses the military’s systemic failures, while Zaluzhny charts a path forward through innovation and adaptation. Together, their perspectives reveal an inescapable truth: war is the continuation of politics—at the cost of the state’s health.
The Problem with Ukraine’s Military Failures Viktor Muzhenko
Texty.org.ua, a Ukrainian independent media outlet, published an interesting article in December 2024, in which they interviewed General Viktor Muzhenko, a former Ukrainian Chief of the General Staff and Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of Ukraine from 2014 to 2019, who is now a leading researcher at the Armed Forces Research Institute. The title of the article is “We had a chance to win on the battlefield and still have it. General Muzhenko on how to stop the Russian.”
You can read the article for yourself, but here is a breakdown of his overall argument and concern. Below are the major points Muzhenko raises, with selected illustrative quotes and implications:
Theme
Key Observations / Critiques
Implications / Recommendations
Russian initiative & existential framing
He acknowledges that Russia has the upper hand (i.e., dictates terms) and has achieved tactical successes, but cautions that tactical gains do not necessarily equate to a strategic victory.
He recommends (obviously) that Ukraine should not accept the narrative of “we are losing” and must maintain strategic resilience and correct internal defects.
Mistakes in negotiation and posture early in war
He argues that in the earliest days, Ukraine engaged in negotiations with Russia over territorial outcomes, without sufficient guarantees. This signaled a weak position.
He implies that Ukraine must avoid negotiating from a position of weakness and maintain firmness in negotiations.
Decentralized command vs discipline
Early mobilization and resistance benefited from decentralization and initiative at lower levels, which is natural. However, over time, this grew chaotic and undermined coherence due to a loss of leadership and a lack of capable, well-trained replacements (e.g., unexplained retreats in Luhansk, poor coordination).
Decentralization must be tempered, starting with disciplined command and accountability.
Mobilization and personnel policy failures
The recruitment process was and still is indiscriminate, as men were being forcibly taken off the street and out of public places. This approach often results in specialists being mismatched—for example, individuals with valuable civilian expertise are placed in general infantry roles rather than employed where their skills could be decisive. Such practices erode loyalty and compromise fighting spirit. As a result, commanders assumed they had unlimited human resources. It also does not help when you have frequent leadership changes (generals and colonels), which have undermined continuity and institutional memory.
To solve this problem, more selective and strategic mobilization is required. Stability in leadership and career progression must be respected.
Engineering, fortifications, and terrain neglect
Muzhenko criticizes the neglect of basic engineering measures—such as trenches and fortifications—and the insufficient preparation of terrain before operations. He highlights specific cases, including the Kharkiv and Kursk offensives, where the timing, objectives, or overall design were poorly conceived. In his view, persisting too long in an offensive posture left Ukrainian forces exposed when they should have shifted to defense.
Any large-scale operations must integrate engineering, terrain analysis, and realistic objectives; be ready to shift posture.
Flawed counteroffensive planning and unrealistic expectations
He notes that the counteroffensive was often overhyped—shaped more by public expectations than by operational realities—and underprepared in key areas such as reconnaissance, engineering support, manpower, and overall plan design. In some cases, offensives were even launched against sectors where Russian defenses were strongest. Big mistake.
Ukraine should avoid “euphoric” expectations, plan realistically, and ensure all supporting groundwork (reconnaissance, engineering, staging) is methodically done.
Leadership comparisons and delegation issues
Muzhenko argued that General Oleksandr Syrskyi was more professionally prepared and experienced than former Commander-in-Chief Valery Zaluzhny, who now serves as Ukraine’s ambassador to the United Kingdom. He also criticized the tendency to use delegated authority not as a tool of effective command, but as a means of evading responsibility.
Effective leadership must combine delegated authority with oversight, accountability, and strategic continuity to ensure effective management.
Societal mobilization and training of the population
He urges a national conversation: beyond soldiers, civilians must contribute much more to the war effort. Ukraine should restart general military training for individuals under 25, provide psychological preparation, and refine the training structure for mobilized personnel.
Victory demands a total-war mobilization, engaging the entire society, both materially and psychologically.
Defining victory correctly
Muzhenko’s conception of victory is the survival of Ukraine as a sovereign state and a functioning nation with a military, not necessarily recapturing every inch of territory immediately.
Having realistic and strategic definitions of objectives helps prevent overreach and the misallocation of resources.
Overall Argument
Muzhenko is correct that Ukraine squandered early opportunities through a lack of leadership and foresight and continues to suffer from deep systemic flaws in mobilization, planning, and preparation. Unless these problems are corrected, neither tactical gains nor Western support will translate into victory. True success requires disciplined command, smarter use of manpower, realistic planning, and above all, a shift toward total societal mobilization—because survival as a sovereign state depends not only on soldiers at the front but on the whole nation adapting to a long, grinding war. Yet this adaptation can only succeed if the Ukrainian people believe their government’s actions are just and worthy of sacrifice.
The Solution to Ukraine’s Military Problem
Valery Zaluzhny
Valery Zaluzhny, Ukraine’s ambassador to the United Kingdom, the man whom former General Viktor Muzhenko criticized, argues in his article “The role of innovation as the basis of a sustainable resistance strategy in depriving Russia of the opportunity to impose its terms through war” that in today’s conflict, Ukraine must build a strategy of sustainable resistance grounded in technological and innovation superiority, so as to deprive Russia of the ability to impose its terms via force. He claims that conventional approaches and mass assaults are no longer sufficient given the modern battlefield dynamics. Instead, Ukraine must regain and maintain the technological initiative, adapt its military and institutional structures accordingly, and harness innovation to break out of the “positional deadlock” on the front and force Russia to respond to Ukraine’s terms. All of which is correct. The key highlights of Zaluzhny’s argument start at the major Defence and Security Equipment International (DSEI) exhibition in London (2025), billed as the world’s largest military exhibition.
Observation at DSEI-2025 & the role of innovation
Zaluzhnyi notes that while many of the exhibited weapon systems are relics of past wars, Ukraine’s companies are showcasing cutting-edge innovations that attract both military and commercial interest. He highlights foreign systems explicitly incorporating lessons from the Russia-Ukraine war, especially in UAVs (drones), electronic warfare (EW), and artificial intelligence (AI).
The positional stalemate (deadlock) analogy
Zaluzhnyi compares the situation on the front to World War I’s positional warfare, characterized by entrenched lines, layered defenses, and limited maneuver room. He argues that both sides in the Russo-Ukrainian war have entered a “positional deadlock,” where achieving an operational breakthrough is extremely difficult. In such a scenario, massed force or classical maneuvers lose efficacy; the side that can leverage new technologies and sustain itself will have the advantage.
Drones, reconnaissance, and disruption of surprise
Drones (especially small tactical drones) have become central to reconnaissance, targeting, and battlefield awareness. Their presence makes any concentration of forces, particularly on the offensive, highly vulnerable. Due to the integration of drones, long-range precision weapons, and real-time reconnaissance, surprise has become almost impossible. The battlefield has grown more “transparent” due to sensor networks, signals, and observations, all of which feed into decision systems.
Threats to personnel/survivability
However, while the battlefield has grown more transparent, large concentrations of troops, even in defensive positions, are vulnerable to drone and artillery strikes. Thus, defense must shift toward dispersed, semi-autonomous small units that can survive under constant threat. The article mentions that in current conditions, 80% of losses (personnel and equipment) stem from drone-based or drone-assisted attacks. The “kill zone” is expanding due to the “deep battle fires” doctrine, where the goal is not just to hit the frontlines, but to make the entire depth of the enemy’s territory unsafe. Traditional rear areas are no longer safe because drones extend the reach of fire and observation.
Emerging technological challenges & AI/autonomy
He also warns that as AI and autonomous systems mature, the battlefield will be further transformed, potentially removing humans from direct exposure in some roles. However, he admits that current autonomous systems are not capable of replacing humans on a large scale in combat.
Institutional and state-level innovation
The author argues that for Ukraine to maintain technological momentum, it must adopt a national-level strategy for defense innovation, including clear responsibilities, R&D programs, and institutional backing. It should mobilize software engineers and technologists (many of whom are already in the armed forces) to support innovation efforts. He highlights the challenge of accessing microprocessors (“chips”) due to geopolitical bottlenecks (China, Taiwan, and the USA) and the need to form strategic alliances for supply and technological cooperation. He calls for scientific and technological isolation of Russia, and leveraging Western research institutions (for example, CERN or the European Organization for Nuclear Research) as partners.
Strategic implication: turning war into a losing proposition for Russia
The overall goal of Ukraine’s innovation-based sustainable resistance is to force Russia into adapting and absorbing costs, rather than letting Russia dictate the pace or terms. If Ukraine can “get out” of the positional deadlock first — via technology, adaptation, and institutional capacity — then Russia will be compelled to respond. Accordingly, Ukraine must act fast in adopting, scaling, and innovating new systems before Russia does.
Overall Argument
His overall argument is that war with Russia has reached a positional stalemate similar to World War I, where mass assaults and conventional tactics no longer bring decisive results. In this new environment, the key to survival and victory lies in innovation and technology — especially drones, AI, electronic warfare, and precision systems. Ukraine cannot rely on manpower or traditional methods; instead, it must adopt a strategy of sustainable resistance built on technological superiority, adaptation, and institutional support for defense innovation.
Conclusion
After reading Valery Zaluzhny and Viktor Muzhenko’s articles, one is reminded of Clausewitz’s famous observation that “war is not merely a political act but a real political instrument, a continuation of political intercourse, a carrying out of the same by other means.” Both generals underscore this truth, showing that success depends on more than the clash of arms. The political conditions that shape war must be established well before fighting begins. When diplomacy fails and war does come, the “other means” will only be as effective as the political foundation beneath them—one that determines the equipment, the doctrine, and ultimately the health of the military.
Yet in the end, both would agree that everything comes down to the power of politics, plain and simple. Ukraine, NATO, and the front will ultimately decide the war’s outcome—and what future Ukraine will have left, if any.
Russia’s war in Ukraine has entered a phase defined less by linear fronts and more by shifting domains of combat. Where once artillery barrages dominated the battlefield as the leading killer, new data from Russia itself suggests that first-person view (FPV) drones are steadily overtaking them. This shift is more than a technological upgrade; it represents a doctrinal evolution. FPVs broaden the battlespace, reach into rear areas once considered safe, and introduce a constant unpredictability that traditional fires cannot match.
At the same time, Russia’s pattern of attacks reveals a larger truth about modern war: it is non-linear. The tactical flavor of one month rarely matches that of the next, as methods of attack, applications of economy of force, and force multipliers cycle in and out depending on the conditions. This modular approach requires Ukraine to prepare for multiple, overlapping threats simultaneously, while also highlighting the multidimensional nature of contemporary conflict.
The charts below, provided by Vitaly on X and Telegram, effectively illustrate the shift in which drones are becoming the “new artillery” and how they expand the battlespace.
Russia used 4,136 drones, accounting for 60% of July’s total, likely by accumulating them after the mid-summer performance. 691 drones reached their targets, and even more fell as debris.
Chart 1Chart 1 Continued Chart 2Chart 2 Continued
Chart 1: Reported Drones (Lost, Intercepted, Not Reported)
Blue (Intercepted): The substantial interception of drones shows that both sides continue to invest heavily in counter-drone defenses.
Red (Lost): A significant share still makes it through, indicating drones achieve their objectives despite defenses.
Yellow (Not Reported): A steady fraction goes unreported, possibly due to operational gaps or unclaimed hits.
What this means: The volume of drones being launched rivals the tempo of artillery fire in past wars. Even if many are intercepted, the persistent pressure expands the kill zone where troops are constantly hunted.
Red (FPVs): Steady growth, recently overtaking barrages (147,444 total).
Blue (Bombs): Growing use of glide bombs fitted with UMPK kits or (Universal Gliding and Correction Module), including FAB-500, FAB-1500, and FAB-3000, alongside conventional free-fall FABs, particularly in areas with weak Ukrainian air defenses. Total: 4,400.
Green (MLRS or Multiple Launch Rocket System): Decline in use (2,478 total), likely due to attrition and limited inventory.
What this means: FPV drones have overtaken traditional artillery barrages in usage. That is a massive shift for artillery, long regarded as the “god of war” since Napoleon and especially in WWI/WWII. Unlike MLRS and artillery, which are limited by range and stockpiles, drones can penetrate deeper, creating an unpredictable kill zone that extends across tactical, operational, and even strategic depths.
Analysis
From Artillery to Drones
Artillery barrages and MLRS peaked early in the war. Artillery is steadily trending downward, MLRS has declined more sharply, while drones are scaling up. This signals a gradual shift from fewer, high-impact rocket strikes to more numerous, low-cost strikes using drones and bombs that are cheaper, more precise, and harder to predict.
Saturation Warfare
Even with an 83% loss rate, the sheer volume ensures hundreds of drones get through. This mirrors the principle of massed artillery fire: most shells miss, but enough hit to break defenses.
Economic Exchange
Drones cost a few hundred to a few thousand dollars. Interceptors cost tens of thousands. Even “failed” drone attacks create economic attrition by draining NATO-supplied systems.
Russia, however, benefits from its economic endurance as it transitions its economy to a wartime footing. It trades pennies for the West’s dollars, stockpiles drones at a rate of 5,000 per month (and rising), and operationally integrates them much as artillery once stockpiled shells before offensives (which it still does).
Expanding the Kill Zone
Even with only ~17% penetration, drones are striking far beyond the front lines, rear depots, power plants, and bridges. This creates a non-linear threat: instead of predictable barrages, drones “skip” depth and spread lethal pressure across the entire battlespace.
Exploiting Attrition
Overall, by using cheap weapons (FPV drones, decoys, artillery shells, and glide kits), Russia forces Ukraine to expend resources and expand its defensive systems. This necessitates the purchase of very expensive interceptors, radars, and other NATO-provided systems, allowing Russia to preserve its higher-value strategic assets while steadily depleting NATO’s stockpiles.
At the same time, this dynamic pulls Ukrainian manpower away from the front. Personnel who could be fighting are instead tied down operating defensive systems. Case in point: during World War II, Germany had more than one million Luftwaffe personnel who could have been redeployed to the front but were not. Ukraine faces a similar dilemma today, but with far fewer resources.
Finally, Russia benefits from exploiting captured territory and its infrastructure, even when much of it lies in ruins. The land itself becomes a weapon against Ukraine and NATO: any attempt to retake it is costly not only in reconstruction but also in human lives, as advancing forces would face both physical devastation and entrenched resistance. In this way, attrition favors Russia, as Ukraine is forced to expend manpower, resources, and time attempting to reclaim territory. This flips attrition into a net resource gain for Russia.
Conclusion
Russia’s own numbers confirm that FPV drones are slowly replacing artillery barrages as the leading killer. In doing so, they’ve made the battlefield broader and more unpredictable. Yet the tactical flavor of one month rarely carries into the next due to the fog of war. Russia’s methods do change, but often flip back to earlier approaches, cycling rather than progressing linearly. However, that should not fool anyone into thinking the threat is predictable.
Shift in lethality: FPVs outpace artillery as the primary killer.
Expansion of the battlespace: Drones strike from unexpected angles, turning rear areas into targets.
Fluid tactical flavor: Drones and bombs cycle in and out depending on supply chains, weather, and countermeasures.
In short, Russia’s warfighting style is characterized by modularity and non-linearity. They cycle tools, including methods of attack, applications of economy of force, and force multipliers, at both macro and micro levels. These shift as conditions change, forcing Ukraine to counter multiple threats simultaneously.
Remember: war is non-linear—a complex contest of power unfolding across time, space, and every domain simultaneously.
The term DRG (Sabotage and Reconnaissance Group) is gaining wider attention in discussions of the Russian–Ukrainian conflict, and for good reason. These teams represent a form of micro-maneuver warfare that has proven highly effective for Russian forces.
The concept dates back to the Soviet era, when DRGs were developed as small, highly mobile units capable of operating deep behind enemy lines to gather intelligence, conduct sabotage, and create disruption functionally similar to Western special operations forces (e.g., Green Berets, Navy SEALs, SAS).
Military historian David M. Glantz examined this doctrine in detail in his 1989 study The Fundamentals of Soviet Razvedka (Intelligence/Reconnaissance), which remains an excellent reference for understanding how DRGs evolved into their modern form.
This isn’t Deep Battle. It’s Patton’s “haul ass and bypass” approach, utilizing drones, artillery, armor, and assaults all with tactical patience. Russia’s 2025 summer offensive in Ukraine is not a sweeping, armored thrust meant to collapse the entire front in a matter of days. It is something quieter but no less dangerous. Frankly, it is a methodical campaign built around probing, bypassing, and isolating. In this model, the Russians aren’t trying to destroy Ukrainian forces in a grand clash. They’re trying to surround them, sometimes physically and often virtually, and then destroy them with firepower. This is a war of maneuver, but it is also a war of attrition by design. As I was told, it’s a paint-by-number war.
Before proceeding, it’s best to briefly explain what a paint-by-number war is. Some call this a “Triple Chokehold” tactic, which comes down in three phases. I first encountered this topic in May. The title is “Russia’s new three-step assault tactic yields gradual gains.“
Initial Ground Assault: Russian infantry initiates an attack to force Ukrainian units into fixed defensive positions, limiting their mobility.
Drone Surveillance: Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (UAVs) monitor Ukrainian troop movements, identifying weak points in their defenses. This continuous surveillance compels Ukrainian forces to remain static, often leading them to dig multiple trenches to mislead the enemy.
Airstrike Phase: Russian aircraft deploy glide bombs to target the identified positions, aiming to destroy fortifications and inflict heavy casualties.
Find – Tactical Reconnaissance and Probing
The first step in this approach is identifying soft points. Russian forces use a mix of ISR assets, drones, electronic warfare, SIGINT, and good old-fashioned reconnaissance-in-force to locate where Ukraine’s lines are overstretched or thinly held. These aren’t always places with trenches or fortifications. In fact, they often aren’t. The Russians aren’t looking for a fight. They’re looking for the void. The countryside becomes the enemy’s true weakness, not because of what’s there, but because of what isn’t.
This form of “finding” mirrors the first phase of traditional kill chains, but with a twist: it’s area-based, not just target-based. Russia does not look for targets to kill, but rather terrain to bypass and manipulate.
Fix – Pressure to Pin and Distract
Once potential axes of advance are identified, Russian forces apply pressure. This pressure is not designed to break through; it is meant to fix Ukrainian forces in place. Constant shelling, probing attacks, and drone harassment force Ukrainian commanders to commit reserves and dig in. In doing so, Russia accomplishes two things: it prevents Ukrainian units from maneuvering elsewhere, and it convinces them that this is where the fight will be. Meanwhile, the actual point of decision is forming somewhere else. In other words, watch this hand, not this hand, or watch both hands, or neither hand.
This is not frontal assault warfare; it is misdirection with kinetic tools.
Maneuver – The Operational Bypass
Now the real move begins. Instead of trying to take the fixed position head-on, Russian units bypass them, literally driving around resistance and securing the terrain behind it. These flanking maneuvers don’t need to be deep. In fact, they are often shallow by historical standards, extending only a few kilometers or miles into the rear. But they are enough to isolate and force the defenders into a dilemma. That dilemma is to stay and risk being cut off, or retreat under fire.
This method of warfare resembles Bewegungskrieg (war of maneuver) with a modern twist. There is no need to mass forces for a deep penetration when firepower and surveillance can do the work of encirclement. This is Patton’s doctrine in spirit, which is to “haul ass and bypass.” However, where Patton relied on airpower and speed to blitz through enemy lines, modern Russia has all that and more. Drones give them persistent surveillance. Artillery offers immediate punishment. Electronic warfare denies Ukrainian coordination. But their greatest asset may be less visible: patience. Patience is their speed.
Russia is not rushing breakthroughs. They advance deliberately, probing, pressing, and repositioning until the moment is right. This patience allows them to bypass strongpoints without the urgency of a race, because every bypassed position becomes a future problem for Ukraine, not a current one for Russia. Speed, in this war, is not measured in kilometers or miles per hour, but in how long it takes the trap to close, with or without bait.
Kill Zones Without Troops
What makes this strategy lethal isn’t the movement alone. It’s the environment that follows. Once Ukrainian units are isolated either tactically or geographically, the Russians don’t have to storm their positions. They just watch. Drones track every movement. Artillery waits for vehicles or clusters of troops. Even when Russian ground forces are not present in strength, they maintain fire control over the area.
Trying to move is death. Standing still is surrender, starvation, or death. This is not an encirclement in the classic sense; it is an algorithmic siege. It is a battlefield that punishes initiative and rewards stasis only long enough for the trap to close. This is a 360-degree kill zone maintained by sensors and standoff firepower.
Conclusion
Russia is not currently executing a form of modern Deep Operations. There is a reason for that, and that is politically based, I think. They do not need to. Instead, they are conducting a highly pragmatic, lethally modern form of maneuver warfare: find the void, fix the defenders, and maneuver around them until they are isolated and vulnerable. It is not fast, but it is effective. It is not elegant, but it is repeatable. This is a paint-by-number blitzkrieg blueprint, siege by satellite. And it is working.
Ukraine now faces a battlefield where movement means death, fixed defenses become liabilities, and initiative is punished by a hovering all-seeing eye. The Russians have found a way to wage war without needing to engage in a direct confrontation. They don’t crush. They surround. They don’t break through. They bypass. And in doing so, they turn the very terrain into a weapon of war.
Putin’s approach to the Russo-Ukrainian War reflects both World War II and the Korean War—one shaped by industrial might, the other by political endurance. These strategies have proven effective in the past and remain just as formidable today.
The Military Aspect of the Russo-Ukrainian War in a Nutshell
The Russo-Ukrainian War is a 21st-century high-tech hybrid of second through fifth-generation warfare (2-5GW). Third-generation warfare (3GW) was the center of both forces in 2022-23, emphasizing rapid maneuvering in hopes of penetrating deep behind enemy lines and collapsing the enemy’s center of gravity. Russia’s initial invasion (2022) sought an AirLand Battle Blitzkrieg-style advance that failed to obtain air superiority, which led to its demise and pushback of its ground forces. The same could be said of Ukrainian forces in the following years.
The failure to establish maneuver ultimately led toan attritional, technology-driven conflict (2GW and elements of 4-5GW). For example, Russia’s shift toward entrenched defensive strategies, mass artillery fire, and drone warfare (2GW + 4GW), while Ukraine’s adaptation with precision strikes, asymmetric attacks using drones, and heavy reliance on Western intelligence (4GW + 5GW). However, the pendulum would swing the other way.
For 2024-2025, the war has shifted even further away from third-generation warfare (3GW) and is now dominated by second-generation (2GW) attrition and fourth-/fifth-generation (4GW/5GW) technological integration. Russia is winning due to several key factors.
The first of these many factors starts with the decline of 3GW and the rise of attrition (2GW). Russia’s fortified defensive lines made maneuver warfare almost impossible for Ukraine. Russia’s sheer firepower through massed artillery gave it an advantage due to outproducing the West in shell production and giving it an upper hand in grinding battles—along with the dwindling Ukrainian manpower, ammunition shortages, recruitment, and Western support.
However, shortly before the Ukrainian forces began to suffer the lack thereof, the Russian military began to integrate and amalgamate (4GW/5GW), giving their forces an edge. Drone warfare dominance has allowed the Russians to master loitering munitions, first-person view (FPV) drones, and swarm tactics, overwhelming Ukrainian positions. Not to forget electronic warfare (EW), which the Russian EW systems can now effectively jam Ukrainian communications, drones, and guided munitions and vice versa at times. AI and ISR (intelligence, surveillance, reconnaissance) have improved the Russian forces’ real-time battlefield awareness through satellites, drones, and AI-assisted targeting. At this stage of the conflict, Russia is not winning through maneuver (3GW) but by a relentless combination of industrial capacity and attritional strategy (2GW), advanced technology (4GW/5GW), and Ukraine’s weakening strategic position. While a basic overview of the military aspect has been outlined, how does it connect with the political dimension, and in what ways do they correlate?
The Political and Industrial Aspect of the Russo-Ukrainian War in a Nutshell
Like Stalin in Korea, Putin seems content with a prolonged war, seeing it as a way to:
Observe, Study, Train, and Improve his forces for the current war and potential future conflicts.
Strain Western support for Ukraine by dragging the war out, banking on political fatigue.
Erode the military and economic strength of NATO-backed Ukraine, just as Stalin hoped to weaken the US-led coalition in Korea using China and North Korea.
At the same time, Putin has applied the WWII-era industrial attrition model, mirroring how the Soviets countered German Bewegungskrieg (war of movement) by leveraging sheer production capacity and the advantage of time and space. The vast Ukrainian front allowed Russia to absorb enemy attacks, stretch Ukrainian supply lines, and gradually wear down its forces—just as the Soviets did against the Germans. As Ukraine’s army and NATO supplies diminish, the vastness of its territory becomes an increasing liability. With fewer troops to defend an expansive front, strategic overstretch sets in, making it harder to hold ground, reinforce weak points, and sustain prolonged resistance—playing directly into Russia’s war of attrition:
Russia’s mass industrial mobilization ensures its army is never starved of munitions.
Defensive depth + counteroffensive waves: Like in WWII, Russian forces absorbed early Ukrainian counterattacks (2023), only to grind them down through attritional battles and layered defenses (2024-present), similar to how the Soviets wore down the Germans.
Manpower attrition: Ukraine, with a smaller population and struggling recruitment, shows signs of exhaustion, much like Germany’s overstretched forces in WWII.
Ukraine’s dilemma is a lack of industrial capacity, much like NATO, which gives aid to Ukraine but also lacks a coherent military industry to fund, fuel, equip, train, and support the Ukrainian army, let alone its coalition, if decided to join directly. It also does not help to have low morale among the troops and the populace, even those nations’ administrations who support the effort; the nation’s population finds it fleeting. Because of this, the ability to conduct organized, combined arms maneuver warfare ceases to exist, leaving the Ukrainian forces to the brutality of attritional warfare.
Conclusion
This comparison suggests Putin’s long-term strategy is not about breakthrough victories but about wearing Ukraine and NATO down through political and industrial attrition. The defensive pressure placed on the Ukrainian forces and NATO backers will eventually collapse into itself as the center never holds. In this case, Ukraine and NATO are the center of gravity as both creatures exist in a politically symbiotic union; if the Ukrainian forces collapse, NATO folds. If NATO is unable to fund and equip the Ukrainian forces, Ukraine folds. In the end, both fold.
Get ready for another possible reboot. In 2019, a friend informed me that Gremlins 3 might be coming soon to a local theater/drive-in near you. While I am not a big fan of remakes, the idea of reigniting the Gremlins franchise sparked my interest. The person interested in reviving them is filmmaker Chris Columbus. Columbus, by the way, was the original writer of Gremlins. Columbus made it clear that not only was he “proud of the script,” but that the movie would “not be a sequel, it will be a reboot.” Therefore, Gremlins 3 will not be the third installment but a do-over.
The original Gremlins was released on June 8, 1984, and made $153.1 million on an $11 million budget. While I did not see the film in the theater, my parents rented the VHS tape a year later. After watching the live-action puppeteer version (designed by Chris Walas) of what a gremlin looks like, according to Hollywood, I still had the Looney Tune version ingrained in my head. The Looney Tune episode featuring a gremlin is titled “Falling Hare,” which was released on October 30, 1943. Another Merrie Melody featuring the gremlin came out less than a year later, titled “Russian Rhapsody,” released on May 20, 1944. The original title of this episode was “Gremlins from the Kremlin.” So what is a gremlin, and just as important, what in the hell is a mogwai from which the gremlins spring!?
What is a Gremlin?
The Royal Air Force aviators stationed in Malta, the Middle East, and India first coined the word gremlin in 1923. However, the term was slang to explain that some creature had caused mechanical failures. It was not until April 10, 1929, that the term gremlin first appeared in print as a poem in the journal “Aeroplane.” Nevertheless, the term became popularized during World War II and was picked up by Americans.
The New York Times Magazine, April 11, 1943, states that the term is of unknown origin and “probably formed by analogy with GOBLIN.” Moreover, there is a “possible dialectal survival of Old English gremman “to anger, vex” + the -lin of goblin; or Irish gruaimin “bad-tempered little fellow.” Surfer slang for “young surfer, beach trouble-maker” is from 1961 (short form gremmie by 1962).” While this explains a little about a gremlin, it does not give an exact origin. However, the 1984 film Gremlins does provide a possible origin and suggests that they come from a little furry creature called mogwai. But what is a mogwai?
What is a Mogwai?
In the film Gremlins, an inventor named Randall Peltzer visits a Chinatown antique store looking for a Christmas present for his son Billy. While in the store, he encounters a small, furry creature called a mogwai. Seeing that this might make the perfect gift, the storeowner, Mr. Wing, refuses to sell the creature. As the store goes, the grandson of the storeowner sells the mogwai to Mr. Peltzer and explains the three rules to him.
Keep him out of the light.
Keep him away from water.
Never feed him after midnight.
Sounds easy enough, right? Well, for those who have seen the film, you already know that it goes from good to bad to worse quickly. But the one thing missing is what a mogwai is.
The word mogwai is Cantonese and means “monster,” “evil spirit,” “devil,” or “demon.” While little Gizmo is a cute furry creature, in Chinese tradition, mogwai are certain demons that often inflict harm on humans. Gizmo is the exception since any other mogwai in the Gremlin series has a mean streak. As for reproduction, unlike the movie, where if water gets on one of them, they sprout many, according to tradition, “they reproduce sexually during mating seasons triggered by the coming of rain. Supposedly, they breed at these times because rain signifies rich and full times ahead.” As for the name mogwai, the “mo” is said to derive from the Sanskrit “Mara,” meaning ‘evil beings’ (literally “death”), whereas the “GUI” does not necessarily mean ‘evil’ or demonic spirits. Instead, it means deceased spirits or souls of the dead. But is there a connection between these two creatures? The answer is no. It sounded like a good idea and creative thought to make the two creatures one and the same.
The Gremlins True Origin and Meaning.
Okay. I saved the best for last. The origins of the gremlin do not come from some mythological creature but rather from a beer. Yes, a beer. The gremlin is based on Fremlin beer, brewed in Maidstone, Kent, England, and was a favorite among the R.A.F. pilots. Therefore, the term gremlin comes from Fremlin. Well, hold on. Yes, the term comes from Fremlin, but with a rather funny twist. According to the Observer, on November 8, 1942, John Moore was told that gremlins “were goblins which came out of Fremlin beer bottles.” But it gets funnier, folks.
Less than a year later, Newsweek published an article on September 7, 1943, discussing the term gremlin and its origins. According to Newsweek, they quote the following from a dispatch they received from Merrill Mueller, chief of the magazine’s London bureau:
The great-grandaddy of all “bloody Gremlins” was born in 1923 in a beer bottle belonging to a Fleet Air Arm pilot whose catapult reconnaissance plane was cursed with perpetual engine trouble. This pilot was overloaded with beer the night before a practice maneuver, when the engine failed and he crashed into the waves. Rescued he said the engine failed because little people from a beer bottle had haunted him all night and had got into the plane’s engine and controls during the flight…. “the bloody Gremlins did it.”
Therefore, the 1984 film Gremlins was unknowing (perhaps Chris Columbus did know?).. built off Fremlin booze, which an R.A.F. pilot ingested in mass quantities in 1923 until he could no longer fly. Upon his rescue, he clarified that “the bloody Gremlins (Booze) did it.” So there you have it: Fremlin beer and a bit of drunken creativity started a franchise we enjoy today. Cheers!
