Blind Empire: Inside Ukraine’s Campaign to Degrade Russia’s Air Defense Architecture

The systematic destruction of enemy radars and air defense systems is eroding the protection of Russia’s strategic rear—reshaping the operational landscape and accelerating the degradation of the occupiers’ warfighting capacity.

Spring 2026 has marked a decisive inflection point in the Russia–Ukraine war. For the first time since the start of the full-scale invasion, Ukraine has surpassed Russia in both the intensity and total number of strike drones deployed. Verified data published daily throughout March by the AFU Air Force, alongside reports from the Russian defense ministry, reveal a stark shift in operational dynamics. According to these figures, Ukraine’s Defense Forces forced Russia to acknowledge more than 7,347 “downed” drones—the highest level of strikes on its rear areas ever publicly admitted by Moscow.

By way of comparison, during the same period Russia launched 6,462 strike UAVs against Ukraine, of which approximately 90% (5,833 drones) were neutralized.

These figures point not only to expanded Ukrainian production capacity, but to a fundamental transformation in doctrine. The relocation of combat operations deep into the enemy’s territory has become a defining feature of this phase of the war—what President Volodymyr Zelensky has aptly described as a form of Ukrainian “sanctions.”

“Russians must feel the pressure. If Ukraine does not respond to their strikes, Russia will simply continue the war without even considering pauses,” the president emphasized.

Strikes against Russia’s oil refining, military, and logistical infrastructure have proven highly effective. Crucially, however, their success is not solely a function of drone capability. It is underpinned by a sustained, methodical campaign to dismantle what was once a cornerstone of Russian military strength: its layered air defense architecture.

A POROUS UMBRELLA: HOW UKRAINE EXPLOITED GAPS IN RUSSIA’S AIR DEFENSE ARCHITECTURE

To understand the current state of Russian air defense—and its growing inability to counter Ukrainian drone operations—it is essential to recognize that this is not the result of episodic disruption. Rather, Ukraine’s Defense Forces have implemented a long-term strategy of systematic degradation. What is visible today is the cumulative outcome of a sustained effort to exhaust the technological backbone of Russia’s military machine.

Oleksandr Kovalenko / Photo via Facebook / AlexanderKovalenkoUkraine

Analyzing the origins of this process, Oleksandr Kovalenko, a military observer with the Information Resistance group, traces the evolution of Ukraine’s approach. According to him, the unraveling of Russian air defenses began well before the onset of mass drone strikes on oil refineries, reflecting a deliberate and phased campaign rather than a reactive escalation.

“If we speak about the destruction of the enemy’s air defense systems, it is important to understand: no such operation is carried out in a week, a month, or even a year. As early as 2022, Ukraine’s Defense Forces began a gradual and systematic process of exhausting Russian air defenses—primarily on the battlefield, whenever opportunities arose,” the expert explains.

“The first destroyed short-range systems—such as the Pantsir-S1 gun-missile system and the Tor-M2 air defense system—as well as complexes captured or damaged, already signaled a critical trend. It indicated that Russian air defense was beginning to lose its resource base and was entering a phase of steady depletion.”

Today, Russia’s air defense is dispersed across a vast territory, forced to simultaneously cover the front line, occupied Ukrainian regions (including Crimea), and strategic assets deep within its own rear. This overextension has produced extensive “blind spots”—gaps that Ukrainian UAV operators are systematically exploiting.

According to Kovalenko’s assessment of Russia’s industrial capacity, the country is now structurally incapable of producing enough systems to offset its mounting losses. The air defense segment is degrading faster than any other component of Russia’s military: the restoration of radars and surface-to-air missile systems is inherently slow, significantly lagging behind the production cycles of armored vehicles or artillery.

The military observer elaborates on the production bottlenecks:

“It takes considerable time to manufacture each unit—especially radars. That is why the systematic targeting of radar systems, which are the core elements for detection, tracking, and engagement, combined with strikes on short-range mobile air defense systems used against drones, has had a decisive impact. Russia is now more depleted than ever in its ability to provide coverage at short and medium ranges.”

Highly publicized systems such as the S-300 and S-400 are not optimized for intercepting small, low-flying targets; their primary role is countering missile threats and strategic aviation.

“In effect, this has been a large-scale, systematic ‘clearing’ of the Russian components that posed the greatest threat to our drones. As a result, Middle Strike and Deep Strike UAVs can now operate even deep within Russian territory,” Kovalenko emphasizes.

Compounding the problem, Russian forces are facing an acute shortage of air defense munitions. Soviet-era stockpiles have largely been depleted, while current production rates are insufficient to meet simultaneous demands from both the battlefield and the rear areas inside Russia.

“They are now forced to rely almost entirely on ongoing production, but their military-industrial base cannot produce the required number of missiles on a monthly basis. This applies to systems such as the Tor-M2, Buk, and Pantsir-S1. The available ammunition is simply insufficient to counter the scale of Ukrainian drone operations,” Kovalenko notes.

“We are producing Middle Strike and Deep Strike drones in significantly greater quantities than Russia can manufacture surface-to-air missiles—even for the systems it still fields. And crucially, the number of those systems continues to decline each month. The conclusion is straightforward: Russian air defense is undergoing a deep, essentially existential crisis.”

BLEEDING THE REAR: THE CASCADING EFFECTS OF AIR DEFENSE DEGRADATION ON LOGISTICS AND INDUSTRY

The systematic destruction of detection and interception systems has enabled Ukraine’s Defense Forces to expand into an unprecedented campaign targeting the most sensitive nodes of Russia’s economic and logistical infrastructure. The erosion of rear-area protection does not merely create operational friction—it is disabling entire sectors essential to sustaining the war effort.

Attack on the Ilsky Oil Refinery

In the first three months of 2026 alone, Ukraine methodically targeted Russia’s oil and gas infrastructure, defense-industrial enterprises, and logistics hubs. Strikes on oil refineries, in particular, have delivered a profound shock to the Russian energy sector.

In January–February, key facilities were set ablaze: the Ilsky and Slavyansk Eco refineries in Krasnodar Krai, which supplied fuel to occupation forces in southern Ukraine and Crimea while generating foreign currency revenues in the Azov–Black Sea basin. The strike on the Volgograd refinery significantly disrupted fuel supplies for military equipment on the eastern front, while the attack on the Ukhta plant in the Komi Republic undermined fuel provision for Russia’s northern and central regions.

Equally consequential were targeted strikes on oil depots—the lifeblood of military logistics. Facilities ranging from the Gercon Plus base in Lipetsk region to Oskolneftesnab in Belgorod region—used to refuel the enemy’s Kharkiv grouping—were hit. Rear-area infrastructure, including Penzaneftprodukt and the Khokholskaya depot in Voronezh region, was also degraded.

The March campaign marked a further escalation in scale and impact, encompassing five military-industrial facilities and ten oil-refining assets. Targets ranged from the Kremniy El microelectronics company in Bryansk and the Aviastar aviation plant in Ulyanovsk to the Alchevsk Metallurgical Combine and the Granit Innovation Center in currently occupied Sevastopol. In April, this trajectory extended to include maritime logistics, with strikes on the ports of Novorossiysk and Ust-Luga.

Assessing the scale of the damage to Russia’s rear, political analyst Ihor Savchuk offers a stark characterization of Ukraine’s unmanned campaign:

“2026 will go down in history as the year Russian air defense effectively turned into the most expensive scrap metal in the world. Ukraine’s Unmanned Systems Forces did not simply seize the initiative—they established a systematic, conveyor-like destruction of enemy radars and launchers, nullifying any meaningful attempt to protect the rear. In just the first months of 2026, more than 80 air defense elements were destroyed.”

In January alone, 21 systems were eliminated (13 SAM systems and 8 radars), along with 19 portable radars and 3 electronic warfare systems. In February, intensity increased by 20%—25 elements were destroyed (20 SAM systems and 5 radars). March became a true catastrophe: a further 36% increase, with 36 air defense elements destroyed, in addition to 49 portable radars and one EW system.”

According to Savchuk, at least 62 surface-to-air missile and gun-missile systems have been destroyed since the beginning of the year. He underscores the asymmetry of this exchange:

“This is not just statistics—it is economic humiliation. A $20,000 drone can destroy a tracked S-300VM ‘Antey-2500’ system worth over $100 million (as happened on February 18 in the Donetsk region).”

A critical feature of Ukraine’s approach is target prioritization. Ukrainian forces consistently strike radar systems—the “eyes and brain” of air defense networks. The loss of a modern radar effectively neutralizes an entire battery, as sanctions severely constrain Russia’s ability to replenish high-tech components.

“Ukraine is deliberately and methodically cutting gaps in Russian air defenses to create uncontested airspace for deeper strikes,” Savchuk notes. “The degradation of air defense, combined with sustained attacks on refineries, ports, and industrial facilities, is triggering a cascading systemic effect. Russia is losing its ability to defend both its airspace and its logistical backbone.”

The consequences extend beyond the battlefield. The erosion of rear-area protection is undermining the resilience of Russia’s war-support system.

“It complicates supply chains, disrupts repair cycles, and degrades command and control. What we are observing is not just weakening, but systemic overload—where the system can no longer sustain offensive operations,” Savchuk adds.

As air defense coverage deteriorates, the Russian economy begins to lose its capacity for regeneration: refineries burn, aircraft production lines stall, and logistics networks fracture. Each destroyed radar or launcher effectively opens a corridor for subsequent waves of drones, amplifying cumulative damage and driving losses into the billions.

Pantsir-S-2

DEMILITARIZATION: DECONSTRUCTING 1,300 AIR DEFENSE LOSSES AND RESIDUAL CAPABILITY

Official reports from the AFU General Staff indicate that more than 1,300 Russian air defense systems have been destroyed since the start of the full-scale invasion. This figure, however, requires careful interpretation. Air defense is not a singular system but a layered architecture composed of radars (sensing), command nodes (control), and launchers (engagement).

Oleksandr Kovalenko disaggregates the headline figures and clarifies the underlying methodology:

“According to the General Staff, since the beginning of the full-scale invasion, Russian forces have lost more than 1,300 air defense assets. The key nuance, however, is that this figure is not broken down by system type. There is no separate accounting for radars or other detection components, nor a distinction between destroyed, damaged, or captured systems.”

To establish a more granular and verifiable baseline, Kovalenko turns to independent monitoring groups that document only confirmed losses—those supported by photo and video evidence. Their data indicate at least 580 verified losses, including more than 370 surface-to-air missile systems and over 120 radar units.

“For those concerned by the discrepancy between official and verified figures, it is important to understand that documented losses typically reflect only a portion of actual battlefield attrition,” Kovalenko explains. “Empirically, the gap tends to fall within a 2–2.5 coefficient, which suggests that the General Staff’s estimates are broadly credible.”

A breakdown by system type underscores the scale of attrition. Verified losses include more than 45 ZU-23-2 systems, over 10 ZU-23-4 Shilka, at least 16 2K22 Tunguska, more than 40 9K33 Osa, over 50 9K35 Strela-10, upwards of 140 Buk-M1/2/3 systems, more than 75 Tor-M1/2, over 50 Pantsir-S1, and in excess of 50 strategic S-300/400 systems.

When extrapolated using the established loss coefficient, these figures point to a far more severe depletion. In several categories, Russia appears to have lost systems in numbers comparable to—or exceeding—its pre-2022 inventory.

“To simplify, if we scale the verified data by a factor of 2–2.5, net losses of Pantsir-S1 systems alone could exceed 125 units,” Kovalenko notes. “Before the full-scale invasion, Russia had 116 of these systems on combat duty. Meanwhile, production capacity remains limited to 1–2 units per month, or roughly 12–24 annually.”

“Under these constraints, Russia may currently have, at best, around 100 Pantsir-S1 systems available—already fewer than in early 2022. That level is critically insufficient.”

A similar dynamic applies to medium-range systems.

“If we apply the same methodology to Buk-M1/2/3 systems, estimated losses reach approximately 350 units. That is effectively the entire pre-war inventory. Annual production capacity is between 15 and 30 systems, meaning that over four years Russia could have produced, at most, around 120 units—an even more severe deficit than in the Pantsir segment.”

Yet the most consequential degradation lies elsewhere: the systematic dismantling of Russia’s radar network—the backbone of its air defense architecture.

“We often focus on destroyed S-300 and S-400 launchers, but the decisive factor is the elimination of radars,” Kovalenko emphasizes. “According to verified data, more than 120 Russian radar systems have been destroyed, damaged, or captured over the course of the war.”

Ukraine has concentrated these efforts in strategically critical areas, particularly in currently occupied Crimea—systematically eroding the integrity of Russia’s radar coverage and, with it, the functionality of its entire air defense network.

Operations in Crimea warrant separate, in-depth analysis. The peninsula—once branded by Russian propaganda as an “unsinkable aircraft carrier”—has effectively been transformed into a liability, even a trap, for Russian air defense.

“Today, it has become a hunting ground for Russian air defense,” notes an observer from the Information Resistance group. “On a near-weekly basis, Ukraine’s Defense Intelligence, the Security Service, and other agencies report successful strikes against systems such as Podlet, Niobiy-SV, Kasta-2E2, Imbir, Nebo-SV/Nebo-M, and the 59N6-E ‘Protivnik-GE,’ among others. Importantly, even partial damage—particularly to radar antennas—is sufficient to render these systems inoperable.”

Kovalenko illustrates the systemic implications using the S-400 as a case study:

“If the 96L6E target acquisition radar is disabled, an S-300 or S-400 battalion—and often an entire regiment—effectively becomes deaf and blind. The S-400 ‘Triumf,’ touted as having ‘no analogues worldwide,’ is reduced to inert hardware. A replacement radar is urgently required—but where does one come from, when only a handful are produced annually? In practice, they are stripped from other deployed units in Russia’s rear.”

Ihor Savchuk reinforces this assessment, highlighting the operational consequences of systematically “blinding” Russian forces in Crimea:

“On March 9, a ‘Nadgrobie’ radar (300 km range) was neutralized. On March 13, a long-range ‘Nebo’ radar—capable of detecting targets at up to 600 km, including ballistic trajectories—was eliminated. This was followed by the destruction of a deep-space communications center, the modern Podlet-K1 system, and the high-value Kasta-2E2, designed to detect low-altitude targets.”

The removal of these high-value assets has created permissive conditions for Ukrainian drone operations. As a result, drones are now able to target some of Russia’s most sophisticated systems even while in transit. Savchuk points to a series of incidents, including the destruction of an Iskander system near Vyshneve, the elimination of a storage facility near Kurortne, and the significant destruction of a Bastion coastal defense column equipped with Zircon missiles on the night of March 24.

Notably, this pattern is no longer confined to occupied territories—it is increasingly evident within Russia’s internationally recognized borders.

Kovalenko outlines a sequence of strikes underscoring this shift: on March 1, 2026, a 92N6A radar associated with an S-400 system was hit in Tula region; on February 7, a 96L6 radar was destroyed in Bryansk region; and in December 2025, an S-400 column was struck in Belgorod region.

“In effect, Russian air defense has degraded to the point where it is no longer capable of protecting not only national airspace, but even its own assets,” Kovalenko concludes.

Taken together, these data suggest that the figure of over 1,300 destroyed air defense systems is not merely statistical—it reflects a structural exhaustion of capability. Russia’s ability to defend its territory is approaching a critical threshold, increasingly incompatible with the demands of its vast geography.

HARSH REALITIES FOR RUSSIA—AND STRATEGIC ADVANTAGE FOR UKRAINE

The large-scale degradation of Russian air defense—and its growing inability to protect critical infrastructure—is now evident not only to external observers, but to Russia’s own military-political leadership. The opening months of 2026 mark a clear inflection point: the initiative in long-range aerial warfare has shifted decisively to Ukraine’s Defense Forces. This shift signals the onset of structural, and likely irreversible, deterioration within the aggressor’s warfighting system.

A key indicator is the evolving tone within Russia’s pro-war discourse. Military commentators are increasingly abandoning performative confidence in favor of open concern. The Z-channel Two Majors, for instance, acknowledges the widening technological gap:

“Kyiv is only the first battering ram against our warfighting capability, which the Armed Forces of Ukraine are trying to grind down ahead of something larger.”

Another Telegram channel, Military Informant, goes further, warning of an impending systemic breakdown:

“There is a sense that if no effective countermeasures are developed against mass Ukrainian drones operating via Starlink, then within a year, at minimum, air defense network in Crimea will simply cease to function.”

Ihor Savchuk frames the implications with stark clarity. In his assessment, the systematic elimination of Russian air defense components guarantees continuous, 24/7 fire pressure on the rear—transforming offensive intent into strategic liability.

“2026 is the year the Russian war machine begins to collapse. It is being stripped of vision, deprived of logistics, and will soon be deprived of financial sustainability,” he argues. “Each destroyed radar opens a corridor for further strikes—against refineries, command nodes, and infrastructure. The system is going blind, bleeding out under logistical strain, and drifting toward financial default. This is only the beginning.”

Deputy Chairman of Ukraine’s Committee on National Security, Defense and Intelligence, Yehor Cherniev, underscores the shift in the balance of power:

“If Putin does not agree to a compromise settlement along the current front line, the next terms for Russia could be significantly worse. This is not rhetoric—it is the first time since 2022 that Ukraine has surpassed Russia in the scale of drone operations,” he states. “In contemporary warfare, where large-scale maneuver offensives are increasingly constrained, strategic advantage accrues to the side that dominates the air domain.”

Cherniev highlights the technological asymmetry now shaping the battlefield:

“We field interceptor drones; their Pantsir systems often lack missiles. We operate with Starlink-enabled communications; they do not. We conduct daily strikes against strategic assets—ports, refineries, air defense nodes—while their responses are largely limited to sporadic drone attacks against civilian targets.”

Looking ahead, Cherniev warns of mounting economic strain if current trends persist:

“Within six months of sustained exchanges at this intensity, the Russian economy will face severe pressure. At that point, the Kremlin will be less concerned with advancing in Donetsk than with retaining what it already holds. The choice is theirs—but history suggests they may miscalculate again.”

Taken together, these dynamics define Ukraine’s emerging strategic trajectory: shifting the material and psychological burden of war onto the adversary’s territory, systematically degrading its rear infrastructure, and accelerating the erosion of its military-economic base. The objective is not merely attrition, but systemic collapse—of a war machine increasingly unable to defend itself against sustained, high-precision pressure.

Myroslav Liskovych, Kyiv