
If the war in Ukraine has been a back-burner issue in a summer dominated by the US-Iran war and a blithe new resident in No 10, the coming weeks will be a sharp reminder of how closely entwined Britain is with the fate of Ukraine.
Not much has yet been said by the Prime Minister, nor Ed Miliband and Wes Streeting, the new foreign and defence secretaries, about the intensification of Britain’s involvement in the conflict through more impactful drone attacks deep inside Russia.
But the news that drones manufactured in Britain by a number of companies have been used to hit industrial and military targets in Russia is a sign that the war has reached a stalemate on its territorial battlefronts and is moving into an era of massive drone conflict.
We no longer hear much talk about avoiding “escalation” with Russia, because the escalation has already happened. When the new MI6 chief Blaise Metreweli noted in her inaugural address that the “front line is everywhere”, she was referring to hybrid warfare, from cyber attacks to under-sea cable threats, and Moscow’s intelligence operations targeting the UK.
Anyway, escalation is a silly word to use about an all-out war to protect a territory from invasion, where the consequences of emboldening Vladimir Putin to cast his eye on other post-Soviet territories and seek to destabilise countries across central Europe are clear to all but the most reality-averse observer.
By supporting Ukraine – with on-off US support during the Trump era – the “coalition of the willing” prevented a land grab. But wars do not just stay put, and the potential price of being an effective ally is rising.
Drone-delivered strikes (which is really a way of saying that we are delivering explosives by new means) on key targets inside Russia set a new standard in the dealings between London and Kyiv – and deepen hostility in Moscow. As well as visibly bringing the war home to Russia and causing material damage to the war effort, the aim is to show that the UK is not nervy about confronting Putin.
This plan carries risks that need to be better explained. So, one thing I would urge Andy Burnham to do is take more active responsibility for Britain’s role in the conflict. A crucial part of the top job is to set out to nervous compatriots the reasons why our involvement is deepening. We did not, for instance, favour deep strikes until North Korea joined the war, and even that decision was coyly shared with the public.
It is also, in the end, our tax revenues which fund the defence of the UK and Europe – and arming a conflict over many years is a big drain on the public purse.
As a former Moscow and Ukraine correspondent who has seen Putin strangling freedoms, seeking to undermine democracies and sowing chaos since his rise to power, I am fine with that. This is now a race for drone superiority and that is how Putin’s grip can ultimately be weakened, to the point where his calculus of whether to continue the fight shifts – or he is challenged internally for launching a war that is disastrous for Russia.
But civilians also deserve greater transparency about a shift in strategy from drones which graze Russian territory by a hundred or so miles over the Ukrainian border, and those which can reach over a thousand miles into Russia’s territory.
This war is now about winning the battle of the skies in drones and air support. One fascinating example: a British company supplied heavy-lift drones powerful enough to supply a tonne and a half of explosives in an operation early last year which ultimately destroyed a vital Russian-held bridge at Kherson. When a movie is one day made about this, it needs a walk-on part for the dopey Russian soldier who posted a photo on Instagram of himself underneath the struts of the bridge, revealing its structural weaknesses to drone attacks.
Inevitably, we can reasonably expect Russia’s present calculus to be that if Britain intensifies its involvement, we become fair game for retribution. Some allies have tried ways of tiptoeing around this side effect. Germany under Friedrich Merz supports sophisticated drone production financially, but that is not the same as supplying them directly. France is less squeamish but more secretive about how far drone strikes reach and foregrounds its conventional missile power.
So, the UK is not alone in deepening commitment – but we are still pretty “out there” in terms of the effect of the highest spec drones. Having recently seen a display of a major military uncrewed system, the glimpse of how lightweight systems operated remotely can cause massive damage is awe-inspiring, but also a sombre reminder that we are now in an era of automated warfare – and both sides have access to that.
British manufacturers – as well as the energy grid and infrastructure that stands behind them – are vulnerable to retaliatory attacks, to the extent that Moscow can claim that they are legitimate targets. Senior figures working on civilian nuclear programmes have their car boots checked when they drive in and out of workplaces. We are closer to war with Russia in a way that defies conventional definition – but is real.
There are red lines around drone deliveries and their uses to protect civilian lives. Once again, it would behove the Government to be clearer about what British-made weapons can and cannot be used to support Ukraine. And while some secrecy is justified, it cannot become an impenetrable shroud in a free society.
We are right to be good partners, in it for the long run, because that is what it will take to bring peace to Ukraine and deter a new era of Moscow’s aggression. The difference between our democratic system, warts and all, and an authoritarian one is that we civilians should be part of that conversation, because success depends on the electorate’s support as well as the will of government.
Candour is the difference between open and closed societies. A message to the new squad of Andy, Ed, Wes, as well as the intelligence services and Armed Forces: let’s have a judicious amount more of it. The risk and rewards of the next phase of a war are a matter for all of us.