In recent months, Russia and Ukraine have significantly expanded their mutual drone campaign. Russian drones and missiles continue to strike Ukrainian cities, industrial facilities, and cultural landmarks. Ukrainian drones are increasingly reaching Moscow and other regions of Russia, targeting oil refineries, military airfields, and infrastructure that supports Russia’s war machine.
Only recently, Russian attacks damaged the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra, the Kharkiv Art Museum, and other sites of cultural heritage. At the same time, Ukraine has carried out a series of successful strikes against Russian oil-processing facilities, including the refinery in Kapotnya near Moscow, as well as military airfields and strategic aviation assets.
At first glance, this appears to be the ordinary logic of war: each side seeks to weaken the military capabilities of its opponent. Yet the strategic significance of these attacks is only part of the story. In reality, modern drone warfare is increasingly becoming a battle for people’s minds.
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Today, a drone is more than a weapon. It is an instrument of psychological influence. Its purpose is not merely to destroy warehouses, airfields, or oil refineries. It is meant to shape public opinion, provoke fear, uncertainty, and doubt about the actions of one’s own government.
This is why Ukrainian strikes on Russian territory have a significance that goes far beyond purely military results. Throughout the war, Russian propaganda has assured citizens that the situation remains under the Kremlin’s control, that the war is far removed from the daily lives of most Russians, and that the country is steadily moving toward victory. When Ukrainian drones penetrate Moscow’s defenses, cause fires at strategic facilities, disrupt airport operations, or expose the vulnerability of the Russian capital, they undermine this image of security.
For many Russians, such strikes serve as the first reminder that the war is not a television show. It exists in real life and can affect even those who once considered themselves protected from its consequences.
In Ukraine, the situation is fundamentally different. Ukrainians have lived under Russian bombardment for more than four years. For residents of Kharkiv, Kyiv, Odesa, Dnipro, and Zaporizhzhia, missiles and drones have long become part of everyday reality. Russia can no longer shock Ukrainian society simply by launching another attack. Ukrainians understand the nature of Russian aggression all too well and witness its consequences every single day.
This is precisely why attacks on cultural sites deserve special attention. When Russian drones damage museums, historic buildings, churches, and other cultural landmarks, they strike not only material infrastructure. They attack the nation’s historical memory.
A power station can be rebuilt. A road can be repaired. Even a residential building can be reconstructed. Cultural heritage, however, is often irreplaceable. A destroyed museum exhibit, a damaged archive, or a historic building means the loss of a part of national memory that can never be fully restored.
I spent many years working at the Kharkiv Art Museum. For that reason, the strike against it was not simply another piece of war news. It was an attack on a place that preserves the history of my city and the memory of the generations that built it.
It is members of the cultural community who understand the scale of such losses most clearly. Writers, artists, museum professionals, musicians, scholars, and educators grasp things that cannot always be measured in monetary terms. They understand the value of cultural heritage and how easily it can be lost.
Perhaps Moscow believes that attacks on cultural symbols will eventually persuade Ukrainian society to demand that its government end the war at any cost. Perhaps the Kremlin hopes that fear of losing national treasures will become another tool of pressure against Kyiv.
Yet the experience of recent years suggests the opposite. Ukraine’s cultural community lives under bombardment just like the rest of the country. Its members see destroyed homes, murdered civilians, devastated cities, and shattered lives. That is why attacks on museums, theaters, and churches do not create a desire to accept any peace settlement at any price. On the contrary, they reinforce the conviction that this war is not being fought solely over territory. It is being fought for Ukraine’s right to its own history, its own culture, and its own memory.
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That is why modern drone warfare is not merely a war of technology. It is increasingly becoming a war of symbols. Ukrainian strikes on Russian oil facilities and military targets remind Russians that war carries a price. Russian strikes on museums, churches, and cultural landmarks reveal something else: the Kremlin understands the importance of culture to Ukraine’s resilience.
But if that is indeed the case, then the Kremlin is mistaken about one crucial thing. The destruction of cultural symbols does not bring Ukraine closer to capitulation. It merely reminds Ukrainians once again of what they are fighting for.
Igor Bondar is a Ukrainian writer and columnist based in Kharkiv. He has been publishing regularly for over four years, with a focus on culture, politics, and the intersection of war and society. His columns appear in major Scandinavian newspapers, including Aftenposten and Klassekampen, where he writes about Ukraine’s cultural and political landscape during wartime.