Thursday, February 22, 2024

Cult of the Drone: Lessons From the War in Ukraine


 
 FEBRUARY 22, 2024
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Photograph Source: National Police of Ukraine – CC BY 4.0

Unmanned aerial vehicles, or drones, have been central to the war in Ukraine. Some analysts claim that drones have reshaped war, yielding not just tactical-level effects, but shaping operational and strategic outcomes as well.

It’s important to distinguish between these different levels of war. The tactical level of war refers to battlefield actions, such as patrols or raids. The operational level of war characterizes a military’s synchronization of tactical actions to achieve broader military objectives, such as destroying components of an adversary’s army. The strategic level of war relates to the way these military objectives combine to secure political aims, especially ending a war.

In the war in Ukraine, what have drones accomplished at these three levels?

Mounting evidence, including my own research as a military scholar who studies drone warfare, suggests that drones have delivered some tactical and operational successes for both Ukraine and Russia. Yet they are strategically ineffective. Despite its increasing use of drones, Ukraine has not dislodged Russia from the Donbas region, and Russia has not broken Ukraine’s will to resist.

Drone warfare in Ukraine

The drone war in Ukraine is evolving in ways that differ from how other countries, especially the United States, use UAVs.

First, the U.S. uses drones globally, and often in conflict zones that are not recognized by the United Nations or do not have U.S. troops on the ground. Unlike this pattern of “over-the-horizon” strikes, Ukraine and Russia use drones during an internationally recognized conflict that is bounded by their borders.

Second, the U.S. operates armed and networked drones, such as the Reaper, the world’s most advanced drone. Ukraine and Russia have adopted a broader scope of low- and mid-tier drones.

Ukraine’s “army of drones” consists of cheaper and easily weaponized drones, such as the Chinese-manufactured DJI. Ukraine has also operated Turkish-manufactured TB-2 Bayraktar drones – the “Toyota Corolla” of drones. U.K.-based defense and security think tank Royal United Services Institute estimated that Ukraine loses 10,000 drones monthly and within a year will have more drones than soldiers, implying it will acquire over 2 million drones. To manage these capabilities, Ukraine recently established a new branch of the armed forces: the Unmanned Systems Forces.

Russia has responded by importing Iranian-manufactured Shahed-136 attack drones. It has also expanded the domestic production of drones, such as the Orion-10, used for surveillance, and the Lancet, used for attacks. Russia intends by 2025 to manufacture at least 6,000 drones modeled after the Shahed-136 at a new factory that spans 14 football fields, or nearly a mile. This is on top of the 100,000 low-tier drones that Russia procures monthly.

Third, the U.S. uses drones to strike what it designates as high-value targets, including senior-level personnel in terrorist organizations. Ukraine and Russia use their drones for a broader set of tactical, operational and strategic purposes. Analysts often conflate these three levels of war to justify their claims that drones are reshaping conflict, but the levels are distinct.

Tactical effects

Drones have had the biggest impact at the tactical level of war, which characterizes battles between Ukrainian and Russian forces.

Famously, Ukraine’s Aerorozvidka Air Reconnaissance Unit used drones to interdict and block a massive Russian convoy traveling from Chernobyl to Kyiv a month after Russia’s Feb. 24, 2022 invasion of Ukraine. It did so by destroying slow-moving vehicles that stretched nearly 50 miles, causing Russia to abandon its advance.

Both militaries have also adopted low-tier “first-person-view” drones, such as the U.S.-manufactured Switchblade or Russia’s Lancet, to attack tanks, armored personnel carriers and soldiers. Russian and Ukrainian forces are increasingly using these first-person–view drones, combined with other low-tier drones used for reconnaissance and targeting, to suppress opposing forces. Suppression – temporarily preventing an opposing force or weapon from carrying out its mission – is a role normally reserved for artillery. For example, suppressive fire can force ground troops to shelter in trenches or bunkers and prevent them from advancing across open ground.

Ukrainian soldiers use first-person-view drones against Russian forces.

These gains have led Russia and Ukraine to develop ways of countering each other’s drones. For example, Russia has capitalized on its advanced electronic warfare capabilities to effectively jam the digital link between Ukrainian operators and their drones. It also spoofs this link by creating a false signal that disorients Ukrainian drones, causing them to crash.

As a result, Ukrainian drone operators are experimenting with ways to overcome jamming and spoofing. This includes going “back to the future” by adopting terrain-based navigation, though this is less reliable than satellite-based navigation.

Operational limitations

Drones have been less successful at the operational level of war, which is designed to integrate battles into campaigns that achieve broader military objectives.

In spring 2022, Ukraine used a TB-2, along with other capabilities, to sink Russia’s flagship ship — the Moskva — in the Black Sea. Since then, Ukrainian officials claim to have destroyed 15 additional Russian ships, as well as damaged 12 more.

Ukraine also used sea drones – uncrewed water vessels – to damage the Kerch Bridge, connecting Crimea to mainland Russia, as well as attack fuel depots in the Baltic Sea and near St. Petersburg.

Footage appearing to show the damaged Russian warship Moskva emerges.

Though impressive, these and other operations have momentarily disrupted Russia’s use of the Black Sea to blockade Ukraine’s grain shipmentslaunch missiles against Ukraine and resupply its soldiers.

The problem is that Ukraine lacks air superiority, which has encouraged its use of an army of drones to execute missions typically reserved for bombers, jets, attack helicopters and high-end drones.

Though Denmark and the Netherlands have promised to provide Ukraine with F-16 fighter jets, thus replacing the country’s aging aircraft, they have not arrived. My research also suggests that the U.S. will likely not sell its advanced Reaper drones to Ukraine, fearing crisis escalation with Russia. Further, these drones are vulnerable to Russia’s integrated air defenses.

Lack of air superiority exacerbates tactical challenges such as jamming and spoofing, while undermining Ukraine’s ability to deny freedom of maneuver to Russia.

Strategic myths

Despite these tactical effects and limited operational gains, drones are strategically ineffective.

Drones have not, and are not likely to, shape the outcome of the war in Ukraine. They have not allowed Ukraine to break its stalemate with Russia, nor have they encouraged Russia to end its occupation of Ukraine.

To the extent drones have been strategically consequential, the implications have been psychological.

Russia and Ukraine use drones to terrorize each other’s citizens as well as generate propaganda to stiffen their own citizens’ resolve. Russian and Ukrainian leaders also perceive drones as providing advantages, encouraging them to invest in these capabilities and perpetuate what I call the cult of the drone.

A series of drone attacks hits Moscow.

The lesson from Ukraine is that while drones have some value at the tactical and operational levels of war, they are strategically inconsequential. They are not a magic bullet, offering a game-changing capability to decide the fate of nations.

Instead, countries must rely on time-tested combined arms maneuver, wherein they integrate personnel and weapons systems at a particular time and place to achieve a particular goal against an adversary. When these effects are aggregated over the course of a war, they expose vulnerabilities that militaries exploit, and often with the assistance of allies and partners.

Only then can countries achieve military objectives that secure political outcomes, such as a negotiated settlement.The Conversation

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Advances in Archaeology Allow Us to Understand Political Evolution and Social Change in Deep Time


 
 FEBRUARY 22, 2024
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Photograph Source: Dennis Jarvis from Halifax, Canada – CC BY-SA 2.0

Western society is largely in the grips of an entrenched mythology that premodern non-Western states and empires were organized despotically, markedly different from how humans govern themselves in the contemporary West. There’s another common myth that dynamic periods of prosperity and well-being were exclusive to Europe during preindustrial times. We’re still reckoning with the 19th-century academic belief that human history developed along two major paths: the West and the rest.

Early anthropology and archaeology were dominated by notions of progress and the categorization of human behaviors through successive evolutionary ages. Human history was misinterpreted through linear, generalized sequences of societal change; school children and college graduates were taught to imagine political evolution from tribes to chiefdoms to states, a great ladder of being that placed then-dominant European societies on the top rung.

This approach repeatedly fell short in the light of new findings in archaeology, as no clear patterns or laws emerged by comparisons of social history either regionally or globally that were pressed into these categories of evolution. For instance, disparities like the delayed introduction of metal in pre-Hispanic Mesoamerica and the absence of a text-based writing system in the pre-Hispanic Andes contradicted the notion of uniform growth seen in empires from early Eurasia.

Even as we still reckon with that legacy today, Mesoamerican researcher and archaeologist Gary M. Feinman makes the case in a 2023 paper that current understandings of a more global and detailed archaeological record offer a new vantage toward interpreting long-term political change. Today, the wealth of qualitative and quantitative archaeological data challenges the Eurocentric notion of a single linear course in human history.

The traditional comparative approaches in archaeology, often categorical and binary, are being reshaped by powerful new findings, made possible by decades-long research programs in archaeology that have seen improved chronological controls, wider global coverage, and multiscalar analyses in many investigated regions. As a result, the way of reading historical narratives changed strikingly, importantly in our understanding of long-term political change.

Rather than projecting recent organizational patterns—often recorded during colonial eras, back in time—archaeologists can now study patterns of change looking forward from deep in the past. In other words, we need to eliminate now-dated postulates and accept that long-term political change does not follow uniform or directed paths. Rather the change happens differently across space and time.

We should focus on case-specific variation and acknowledge that human cooperative patterns, and the resultant institutions that are founded, have more situational and contingent histories and that sequences of change were often impacted by open networks of exchange, conquest, and warfare that fomented new challenges and opportunities. This modern model to examine long-term political change is less universal but is more realistic and precise, and since we often know outcomes, deep-time histories provide a rich record of human experience that we can learn and draw from when facing current challenges.

This article was produced by Human Bridges.

Gary M. Feinman is an archaeologist and the MacArthur curator of anthropology at the Field Museum of Natural History in Chicago.

David M. Carballo is a professor of archaeology, anthropology, and Latin American studies at Boston University.