Friday, November 14, 2025

Ukraine’s drone war is also being waged on the ground


Issued on: 14/11/2025 



Ukrainians and Russians alike are making massive use of aerial drones in their conflict. But from underground bunkers, the Ukrainians are also piloting terrestrial drones. Wheeled or tracked, these devices have become essential for logistical and rescue missions.

For Ukrainian soldiers, movement around the front line is becoming ever more perilous. The primary threat comes from aerial drones, which Moscow is using with increasing intensity. To try and limit troop movement at the front, companies have developed terrestrial drones – remote-controlled vehicles capable of undertaking logistical missions. These include delivering vital supplies, such as food and ammunition, or evacuating the wounded from the front line to the rear. They are more expensive and rarer than their airborne equivalents, but their use is constantly increasing.

Kate Bondar, a researcher at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, told the FRANCE 24 Observers team:

“The most common mission for ground vehicles is logistics. From my conversations with the Ukrainian military, it’s from 60 to 70 percent [of missions]. For resupply, basically, you transport the ground drone as close as possible to the combat zone using a pickup truck. And once it's at the right distance, you let it reach the position of the soldiers who need resupplying.

High price, slow pace

The deployment of terrestrial drones in Ukraine was made possible largely through Starlink, SpaceX's satellite internet service. Starlink allows the devices to be controlled from up to 100 kilometres away.

But Bondar said these drones are not without their flaws:

“Most of these systems have batteries, and batteries emit heat, and that’s how they get detected."

Terrestrial drones are therefore a prime target for aerial drones, especially given their relatively slow speed. Another disadvantage is that they are expensive to manufacture, unlike aerial drones such as FPV (first-person view) drones, which are being used massively by Russia and Ukraine.

However, unlike aerial drones, their ground-based counterparts possess a greater resilience to jamming. Once jammed, an aerial drone will fall to the ground. In contrast, on the ground, if the link between the pilot and the ground drone is interrupted, the vehicle can simply wait before resuming its route once communication is restored.



The Impact Of Drones On The Battlefield: Lessons Of The Russia-Ukraine War From A French Perspective


Ukrainian soldiers pose with a drone. Photo Credit: Anton Sheveliov, Ukraine Ministry of Defence

November 15, 2025 
By Tsiporah Fried

LONG READ

The Russia-Ukraine War is not just a geopolitical earthquake—it is a tactical and technological inflection point. While many initially focused on tanks and artillery, the war’s defining feature has become the mass deployment of cheap, disposable, and networked technologies—especially drones, loitering munitions, and small-scale electromagnetic warfare systems.

In Ukraine, we are witnessing an Uberization of warfare—the use of low-cost, on-demand, and ubiquitous weaponry—alongside the dawn of the robotization of war. In World War II, Germany introduced the concept of blitzkrieg, combining new equipment with the idea of mobile warfare. Today, drone swarms—capable of saturation, connectivity, real-time surveillance, and precision targeting—are not only a tactical revolution, but also a profound disruption of operational art, much like blitzkrieg once was. Moreover, a major shift in the acquisition and technology-development processes made this tactical revolution possible. This revolution—sometimes called a crowdfunding war—should be both a wake-up call for those in charge of defense procurements and a call for a revolution in military affairs.

Yet questions remain about the true strategic impact of drone warfare. Indeed, the rapid development of counter-drone measures raises doubts about the long-term dominance of aerial drones as a decisive tool in future conflicts.1


Land, Sea, and Aerial Drones in Ukraine

On land, both militaries increasingly use wheeled and tracked ground drones for logistical tasks such as delivering supplies, transporting spare parts, and evacuating people who are wounded.2 A handful of armed variants exist, but their operational impact remains marginal. Their effectiveness is constrained by the difficulty of navigating rough and uneven terrain near front lines and by their high vulnerability to aerial drones, which dominate the battlefield and can easily detect and neutralize them.

At sea, Ukraine employs naval drones, which are primarily kamikaze surface and underwater drones equipped with anti-ship missiles. Kyiv no longer has a conventional navy—Russia destroyed its entire fleet in 2022—but it has nevertheless succeeded in pushing the Russian navy out of the western part of the Black Sea. The Russian fleet has lost around 20 vessels as a result. These low-cost naval drone systems, which can bypass traditional naval defenses, have proven to be an effective asymmetric tool in contested waters.

In the air, these systems have undergone their most significant and spectacular developments, reshaping tactics on both sides. Three main categories of drones are currently operating on the Ukrainian battlefield:

1. Medium-altitude long-endurance (MALE) drones

MALE drones—primarily the Bayraktar TB2—had their moment of glory at the beginning of the conflict when they could destroy armored columns. Today, however, they have been largely relegated to surveillance missions over the Black Sea, as they are highly vulnerable to Russian air defenses.

2. One-way attack (OWA) drones and pre-programmed loitering munitions

Both militaries mainly use these long-range suicide drones, designed to strike deep into enemy territory, often hundreds of kilometers away, to target infrastructure. These systems function as low-cost cruise missiles, and the most emblematic—and notorious—is the Iranian Shahed, which Russia and Iran manufacture at a joint plant in Yelabuga, Tatarstan. The Ukrainians use several types of longe-range OWA drones of their own, including the Liutyi. Yet these drones are not particularly sophisticated, and their warheads are relatively small. They are ineffective against hardened infrastructure, slow, and vulnerable to air defenses. Between 70 and 90 percent are intercepted and destroyed in flight. Their real strength lies in their numbers and volume—they overwhelm defenses through mass deployment.

3. Mini and micro tactical drones

These weigh less than 150 kilograms (roughly 330 pounds)—in many cases less than 25 kilograms (55 pounds)—and they typically have a range of around 15 kilometers (9 miles). The militaries use them in a wide variety of missions, particularly for reconnaissance. These drones are now omnipresent along the front lines for close-contact operations, making it nearly impossible for troops or equipment to remain hidden. They provide real-time intelligence, target acquisition, and battlefield awareness at the tactical level. They are also used in kinetic roles and are equipped with explosive charges. This includes bomber drones and first-person-view (FPV) kamikaze drones, which pilots operate while wearing virtual reality headsets. These systems were central to Ukraine’s Operation Spiderweb, a coordinated drone strike against Russian air force bases and facilities.

Other drone variants have also emerged, expanding the scope of battlefield applications:Dragon drones, which have flamethrowers
Mother drones, which (like Russian nesting dolls) can carry and deploy FPV drones or act as radar relays

Mine-laying drones and mine-hunting drones

The number of use cases continues to multiply along with the sheer volume of drones deployed on the battlefield. An estimated 10,000 drones per day are now being used.
A Tactical Warfare Revolution

Since February 2022, the conflict in Ukraine has served as a vast laboratory for the use of drones on a high-intensity battlefield. Within months, these systems became indispensable, reshaping doctrines, saturating defenses, and driving a permanent technological war of attrition.

Three Phases of Drone Development

The first phase of drone development, in 2022, was mass deployment. Ukraine launched its Army of Drones program through crowdfunding, which distributed unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) down to the company level and trained thousands of operators. The drone quickly became a tactical survival tool, used for reconnaissance and artillery fire adjustment.

Russia, initially more reluctant, later developed parallel networks. In the early stages, it relied almost exclusively on heavy military drones such as the Forpost3 and Orion.4 Russian doctrine, shaped by Western concepts, focused on achieving air superiority through a centralized combination of intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) and deep strikes designed to saturate the theater of operations.

However, this approach revealed significant weaknesses. By concentrating drones within specialized units and keeping them largely disconnected from battalions and frontline formations, Russia created a rigid, top-down system. This lack of integration reduced reactivity, limited tactical flexibility, and exposed the entire structure to vulnerabilities—particularly when faced with more agile, decentralized, and adaptive models of drone warfare.

The second phase, between 2022 and 2023, saw the rise of strikes and counterstrikes. Both sides strengthened their air and electromagnetic defenses, leading to massive attrition of drone fleets. MALE drones virtually disappeared from the tactical battlefield, and kamikaze systems and loitering munitions—such as Russia’s Lancets or the Iranian Shaheds, which were deployed in swarms—began to dominate. The battlefield became a saturated space where a drone’s lifespan was measured in flights. During this phase, both sides steadily increased their use of drones, with Ukraine losing roughly 10,000 per month by mid-2023.5 In line with the Soviet doctrine of deep strikes, these drones were launched in massive waves, often alongside highly capable cruise missiles, including hypersonic missiles. Cheap drones overwhelm air defenses so that more advanced missiles can more easily hit their targets.

Finally, from 2023 onward, FPV drones became the new standard for Ukraine. Comparable to miniature anti-tank missiles, they have been produced by the tens of thousands each month. Ukraine integrated them into assault brigades with dedicated UAV companies. As a result, the battlefield has become highly transparent to a depth of 10–20 kilometers (about 6–12 miles). The FPVs’ effectiveness against troop concentrations and heavy vehicles is remarkable despite jamming and the massive need for trained operators. In some Ukrainian units, up to 60 percent of assets deployed in assaults now consist of drones.6

Each of these phases was defined by a relentless contest of innovation and countermeasures.

An Extremely Low-Cost Force Multiplier with Massive Tactical and Operational Impact

Drones have been successful in Ukraine largely because of their remarkable cost-effectiveness. However, costs vary dramatically by category—from a few hundred dollars for improvised FPV and consumer quadcopters, to tens of thousands for purpose-built loitering munitions like the Lancet, and millions for large MALE or high-altitude long-range (HALE) drones or other weaponized systems. Yet the vast majority of drones used in Ukraine fall at the very low end of this spectrum: €300–€5,000 ($350–$5,800) per unit. This low cost is precisely what makes them strategic—they provide a technological effect delivered at minimal cost, and are deployable at massive scale.

Initially, Ukraine relied on commercial off-the-shelf drones (primarily Chinese DJI models) and components. Yet it rapidly developed a domestic production base, integrating technologies drawn from everyday consumer electronics, such as smartphones, with genuine military capabilities in navigation, communication, and autonomy. Crowdfunding on the United24 platform makes this production possible.7

The rapid proliferation of low-cost, easy-to-produce drones—most notably loitering munitions such as Iran’s Shahed-136—has become a force multiplier that fundamentally reshapes the battlefield. These platforms provide affordable, continuous real-time surveillance over extended periods, allowing commanders to maintain situational awareness at scales previously possible only with far more expensive systems. At the same time, they confer asymmetric strike capabilities that are accessible to resource-limited states and non-state actors alike, so precision attacks become easier to launch. Swarm tactics can overwhelm conventional air defenses: massed, inexpensive drones saturate sensors and interceptors, forcing adversaries to take costly and complex countermeasures or accept persistent vulnerability. In short, cheap drones marry technological utility with sheer quantity, changing the calculus of both reconnaissance and strike in modern conflict.

This saturation effect is operationally transformative. Swarms of low-cost drones overwhelm radar and interceptors, draining high-value air-defense ammunition and imposing disproportionate costs on the defender. In many sectors of the front, tanks and armored vehicles have ceased maneuvering altogether, remaining concealed or dug in to avoid instant detection and destruction. Today, drones are responsible for up to 75 percent of combat losses on both the Russian and Ukrainian sides.8 These systems have not replaced traditional airpower, but they have profoundly disrupted the conduct of ground combat.

Today, Ukraine’s drone ecosystem has become a powerful engine of innovation,9 bringing together young soldiers and tech “geeks,” more than 300 startups dedicated to drone development, and a philosophy rooted in an economy of means and rapid responsiveness to frontline demands.

Drones are designed to meet real, immediate operational requirements, with design loops often completed in a matter of days or weeks—not months. There are no excessive technical specifications, no long procurement cycles, and typically no maintenance plans. Drones are treated like ammunition: single-use, expendable, and entirely focused on delivering a specific effect at a specific time. Each month, 200,000 are delivered to Ukrainian troops—up from 20,000 a month in 2024. Looking ahead, Ukraine can produce more than 4 million drones annually—an industrial mobilization effort that signals just how central unmanned systems have become to modern warfare.10
The Cognitive Dimension of Drone Warfare

Beyond their tactical utility, drones exert a disproportionate influence in the realm of cognitive warfare—shaping perceptions, morale, and decision-making at both the military and political levels. Their ubiquity and unpredictability create a sense of constant exposure: no place, from the front lines to rear areas, is entirely safe. This psychological saturation erodes soldiers’ endurance, instills fear in civilian populations, and forces adversaries to divert disproportionate resources to defense.

Attacks using so-called spiderweb tactics—swarms of small, networked drones that surround and harass enemy positions—illustrate how drones can immobilize troops not just physically, but mentally, creating the impression of trapping them in an inescapable net. The audacity of such attacks—like Israel’s beeper attacks—demonstrates that no part of a nation’s territory is a sanctuary. They underscore the vulnerability of open-air air force bases, which are exposed targets in an era of precision strikes and low-cost drone incursions. Likewise, the recent drone strike against Poland,11 though limited in scale, had an outsized psychological and political effect, demonstrating the permeability of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization’s borders. This event also showed that low-cost systems could trigger debates about escalation, deterrence, and alliance credibility. So while the physical damage was minor, the cognitive impact was major.

This development highlights an important paradox. While drones have not yet achieved strategic disruption in the Clausewitzian sense (they do not decide wars or redefine their political logic—see below), they do play a strategically significant cognitive role. By amplifying uncertainty, weaponizing viral imagery, and challenging perceptions of security, drones shape the information environment in ways disproportionate to their material power.

In that sense, drones may be comparable to airpower in its earliest psychological form—when bombers were valued as much for their ability to terrorize cities as for their actual destructive capacity. Drone warfare thus straddles the line: tactically revolutionary, strategically bounded, but cognitively destabilizing.


Toward an Algorithmic War of Attrition

Increasingly, militaries are integrating drones with artificial intelligence, especially to guide them automatically during the terminal flight phase when they approach their target—a phase highly vulnerable to electromagnetic jamming. These developments mark early steps toward drone autonomy and, more significantly, the rise of low-cost battlefield robotization. The Ukrainian command, constrained by limited human resources, has been compelled to advance autonomous systems. The Saker Scout drone, developed by a Ukrainian startup, exemplifies this evolution: It identifies targets and thermal signatures, though it does not initiate strikes independently. Other platforms go further, integrating autonomous navigation with final guidance, achieving strike success rates of 70–80 percent.12

The dronization of warfare requires militaries to rethink of command-and-control (C2) chains. Indeed, drones’ capabilities are quickly outpacing the capacity of traditional C2 chains. As the number and pace of precision strikes and ISR tasks grow, conventional human-led C2 becomes a bottleneck. Modern drone warfare will therefore force a shift: C2 architectures will need to embed AI technologies to manage sensing, targeting prioritization, tasking, deconfliction, and maneuvering at machine speed—while preserving appropriate human authority and legal accountability. Dronization demands a faster, more distributed, and more autonomous C2 than legacy chains—but it should still have human accountability. The practical path combines sensor fusion, AI decision-support, resilient communications, strong cybersecurity, and explicit legal and ethical guardrails. Done right, AI enables commanders to manage scale and pace while retaining control over the most consequential decisions; done wrong, it risks brittle automation, unintended escalation, and legal exposure.

What matters most, however, is how quickly an adversary adapts.

The Strategic Dimension of Drone Warfare, or Lack Thereof

Traditionally, the operational art depended on a clear chain: strategy set objectives, operational planning structured campaigns, and tactics delivered battles. With drones, tactical actors (small units or even individuals) now have operational reach. A drone team can strike logistics nodes 50 kilometers (31 miles) behind the front, blurring the boundary between tactical action and operational effect. Drones have transformed the operational art by reshaping the way operations are conceived and executed: eroding surprise, collapsing depth, flattening hierarchies, and accelerating the tempo. They make the operational environment more transparent, more saturated, and more fluid than ever before—but stop short of rewriting strategy itself. So far, drones have not altered the fundamental political nature of war—Clausewitzian theory still applies. They have not replaced the need for territorial control, nor have they eliminated the centrality of manpower, logistics, and morale. In Ukraine, despite their massive tactical impact—enabling real-time surveillance, precision strikes, and unprecedented saturation of the battlefield—drones have not decisively shifted the overall course of the war. Neither side has gained a strategic breakthrough solely through their use.

This situation highlights a crucial distinction: drones are a tactical revolutionbut are not yet a strategic disruption. They enhance lethality, amplify firepower, extend reach, expand situational awareness, and accelerate the pace of operations, but they do not by themselves deliver victory or alter the balance of power. Their effects remain bound by traditional strategic imperatives: holding ground, sustaining forces, and breaking the enemy’s will.

Historical parallels make the limits clearer. Blitzkrieg in World War II fundamentally changed how militaries fought wars by combining speed, mechanization, and airpower into an integrated strategy that reshaped entire campaigns, the balance of power. Nuclear weapons redefined the very logic of conflict by introducing deterrence on a global scale, changing not just tactics but also the structure of international relations itself. Drones, by contrast, have not reached this level of transformation. Their effects remain confined within existing strategic frameworks: wars are still decided by territory, industrial capacity, alliances, and ultimately political will.

Furthermore, the rapid emergence of counter-drone measures underscores their limitations. Just as armor led to anti-tank weapons and aircraft spurred air defenses, drones are already being met with electromagnetic warfare, jamming, and intercept systems. Far from being a decisive revolution, drone warfare appears to be part of the iterative cycle of innovation and adaptation that has always characterized military history.


Vulnerabilities and a Constant Race Against Obsolescence

The pace of innovation and counter-innovation is so rapid that any operational advantage can be eroded within weeks. A military therefore has to continuously update its platforms, or they will otherwise become irrelevant. In practice, adaptability—in software, tactics, and production—matters more than sheer numbers. So drone warfare is less a competition over who can develop a one-time technological breakthrough, and is more about who can perpetually upgrade and update the fastest.

Drones quickly become obsolete.

The adaptation cycle between offense (the sword) and defense (the shield) is extremely short—militaries can often develop effective countermeasures in mere weeks. This constrains the long-term dominance of drones, ensuring that they remain a tool that is powerful—yet not transformative at the strategic level.

New counter-drone defense systems are rapidly being developed, such as Russia’s Repellent-1 or Israel’s Iron Beam, which use lasers and jamming technologies. To remain operationally relevant, drones have to constantly evolve. Most are modular systems, with airframes that change very little over time. The real innovation—and vulnerability—lies in their software. Every four to six weeks, updates are required across critical systems—communication protocols, navigation systems, and flight control algorithms—to stay ahead of evolving electromagnetic warfare tactics, including jamming and signal interference.

Most drones are vulnerable to jamming.

Drones are still remotely piloted and have very limited autonomy. Claims about fully autonomous drones like the Russian Lancet-3 or Ukrainian Saker Scout are exaggerated. Ukrainian developers have created object recognition and terminal guidance technologies, but these tools are currently limited in complexity and trustworthiness. Tethered drones are less susceptible to electromagnetic warfare as their wired connection shields them from jamming and interference, but this technique presents other vulnerabilities.

In this sense, drone warfare is a continuous software arms race where agility, not just quantity, determines success.

Drones involve production and scaling challenges.

Ukraine’s drone innovation has been largely startup-driven and artisanal, whereas Russia has moved to industrial production. Although Ukraine often fields more advanced and better-performing systems, it risks being overwhelmed by Russia’s sheer manufacturing capacity.

Maintaining an edge in drone warfare requires investment not only in software development—artificial intelligence, autonomy, and communication systems—but also in industrial-scale production. Yet mass production alone is not enough. For drones to remain effective, manufacturing needs to stay flexible and adaptive, continuously evolving in response to changing battlefield conditions and the rapid development of counter-drone measures. The future of drone warfare will be determined not just by innovation at the design stage, but by the ability to scale, adapt, and sustain production at an industrial level.

Drone warfare presents human resource challenges.

Drone warfare is not just about producing drones—it is also about producing the people who can operate them effectively, at scale, and through constant technological change. This may prove as decisive as industrial capacity in shaping who holds the long-term advantage.

The need for numerous operators presents a major constraint on drone warfare. Unlike many other weapons systems, many drones—especially commercial quadcopters adapted for military use—require individual operators for piloting, targeting, and coordination. Training a single operator takes from three to four weeks, which may seem modest, but when scaled across thousands of systems, the burden on manpower and training infrastructure becomes significant.

Because drones need human operators, several challenges emerge:High demand for operators. The proliferation of drones means that armies need large numbers of trained personnel. Each destroyed or lost drone requires not just hardware replacement but also the reallocation of trained operators.

Skill retention and turnover. Many drone operators come from civilian or volunteer backgrounds (e.g., gamers, hobbyists, engineers). While this brings innovation and agility, it also leads to issues of retention, burnout, or rotation back into civilian life. Maintaining a consistent, professionalized cadre is resource intensive.

Cognitive and psychological load. Operating drones is mentally taxing. Constant surveillance, real-time decision-making, and remote lethality blur the lines between combatant and observer. Operators may be physically distant from the battlefield, but psychologically they remain deeply exposed, contributing to fatigue and stress.

Training vs. innovation gap. Rapid technological evolution means that operators must continuously adapt to new systems, software updates, and countermeasure environments. A four-week training cycle is only the baseline; sustaining competence requires ongoing education, which further strains resources.

Organizational integration. In countries like Ukraine, where drone innovation is highly decentralized, training and integrating thousands of new operators from startups, volunteer groups, and the military create a coordination challenge. In Russia’s more centralized model, the rigidity of doctrine slows training adaptation, limiting operator effectiveness.

Implications for Western Militaries

Drones have transformed modern warfare, making rapid integration, adaptability, and scalable innovation as crucial as platform sophistication and firepower. Therefore, Western militaries need to learn from the Russia-Ukraine War and rethink doctrines, operational models, and force development.

Addressing the Challenges of This New Warfare

In Ukraine, we are witnessing the rise of mass-produced, technologically capable systems at an affordable price. This symbolizes the reconciliation of two concepts once thought contradictory: mass and technology.

Drones have redefined ground tactics, creating battlefield transparency, saturating defenses, and paralyzing large-scale maneuvers. In an order of the day.13 issued on April 23, 2025, French Chief of Staff General Pierre Schill called on the cavalry to reinvent itself. Praising its historic power, he recalled that it has long been the arm that unbalances the enemy and whose intervention secures victory. Yet the advent of drone warfare has relativized the strength of armored forces, with fronts increasingly static and maneuvers slowed. A growing gap is emerging between the costly sophistication of combat vehicles and the inexpensive, rugged means available to destroy them.

Western militaries thus need to decide: Should drones remain limited to optimizing existing forces, or should they be integrated as an organic tool of maneuver, as in Ukraine?

The latter path demands a profound transformation: an agile civil-military model; rapid innovation cycles embracing not only tech innovation but also new doctrine based on a multi-domain approach integrating the effects of drones; and an army capable of absorbing large numbers of reservists and operators.

Without such a transformation, Western technological superiority could quickly become a weakness when confronted by adversaries capable of flooding the skies with cheap, disposable swarms. Responding requires a paradigm shift: instead of investing in rare, exquisite platforms, belligerents are betting on “cheap, fast, many.”

The Need for an Industrial Revolution

The Russia-Ukraine War shows the need for speed in the adaptation cycle. Every innovation almost immediately triggers a countermeasure. The battlefield has become a space of permanent research and development, where superiority is measured by the ability to innovate and produce at scale not only drones but also counter-drone systems. The conflict has triggered a race among nations to adapt their defense industries for large-scale drone production, battlefield integration, and counter-drone measures. The United States,14 Turkey, and Israel—not to mention China, which was already the largest producer of commercial drones—have developed supply chains and production capabilities tailored to meet this new demand.

The war in Ukraine has exposed long-recognized weaknesses that militaries have ignored, which raises multiple issues. How relevant are current Western capabilities and programs in light of the rapid evolution of drone warfare? Can traditional defense planning cycles keep pace with the tempo of innovation emerging from the field?

In France, for example, armament processes remain slow and overly centralized, shaped by an industrial logic based on long timelines. They are also often burdened with unrealistic requirements concerning French control of components, software, and digital transformation, or by the complexity of European partnerships. Acquisition mechanisms are equally rigid, and until recently, actors outside the traditional defense industrial base were not considered as suppliers.

For years, France treated drone programs as conventional programs and required heavy specifications that constrained agility, rapid innovation, and field experimentation. Moreover, France faces a delay of nearly 15 years in combat drone development due to an operational culture that prioritizes human control over firepower and manned airpower, often at the expense of adapting to new paradigms. Despite its delay, France has now entered the drone race with two priorities: (1) developing effective protection against hostile systems and (2) fostering startup creativity to build drone capabilities. This shift, anchored in a targeted €5 billion ($5.8 billion) investment, reflects both an acknowledgment of strategic vulnerabilities and a determination to stimulate innovation. The policy has unleashed a surge of initiatives. The French Army’s Future Combat Command has launched an ambitious equipment plan that includes the creation of drone pilot schools, while the Defense Airborne Drone Pact seeks to structure a low-cost drone industrial base—drawing not only on traditional defense players but also on civilian industries such as the automotive sector.

The Russia-Ukraine War shows that Western militaries need nothing less than an industrial revolution in armaments.15 They should invest in the modular, open-source, rapid manufacturing of drone and counter-drone technology, while also accelerating traditional procurement cycles. This transformation should rest on three complementary pillars:

1. Creativity and ExperimentationEncourage rapid prototyping, field testing, and integration of civilian technologies.

Foster innovation ecosystems that connect startups, engineers, and frontline operators.
Embrace a culture of iterative design in which failure accelerates adaptation rather than hindering it.

2. Mass Industrial ProductionShift from artisanal or startup-driven approaches to large-scale manufacturing capacity.

Secure supply chains for critical components and raw materials to ensure continuity under pressure.
Invest in modular designs that can be mass-produced while allowing upgrades.

3. Flexibility and AdaptabilityBuild industrial processes that can pivot rapidly in response to new threats or countermeasures.

Shorten acquisition cycles to match the pace of battlefield innovation.
Maintain a balance between standardized platforms and the ability to integrate new payloads, software, and tactics.

What is at stake is not simply catching up, but redefining the balance between protection, innovation, and industrial scalability in a domain where agility and mass production increasingly determine operational superiority.

Only by reconciling creativity, scale, and flexibility can states sustain technological and operational superiority in future wars. The revolution in armaments is not merely about producing more but about producing smarter and faster while remaining resilient to the relentless pace of innovation.

Beyond Drones: Toward a Doctrinal Revolution

Drones alone are not transforming the battlefield. Instead, they are disrupting the battlefield by working with other weapon systems as a networked whole. For example, both Russia and Ukraine have paired unarmed drones with artillery, which dramatically accelerates targeting timelines and enables responsive, precise, ground-based fires. Drones have become the critical link in what Russia calls its reconnaissance-strike complex—the network that acquires, processes, and transmits targeting data to artillery units.

Because artillery remains the decisive weapon of this war, drones have assumed a vital enabling role as spotters, identifying targets and adjusting fires by feeding data through virtual battle networks, such as Kropyva and Strelets. Increasingly, this role is carried out not by a single drone but by stacks of drones operating in the same airspace, each with distinct functions. The result is a highly distributed, resilient kill chain—driven by a decentralized and agile C2, which is far harder to disrupt.
This evolution highlights the need for a doctrinal revolution, not just new technology

From the three Ds to air and information superiority. Once defined as handling “dirty, dull, dangerous” tasks, drones now reshape the very meaning of airpower. Air superiority is no longer only about jets and helicopters; it is also about achieving drone superiority—outmatching the adversary in numbers, resilience, and electromagnetic warfare dominance.

From kill chains to kill webs. Rigid, linear targeting models are insufficient against an adaptive, contested environment. The future lies in kill web architectures—decentralized, data-driven, and resilient to attrition—that are capable of integrating drones seamlessly with ground fires, electromagnetic warfare, cyber operations, and space-based assets.

Rethinking defense. Traditional air defense systems were never designed to counter mass drone swarms. Ukraine and its allies have had to improvise, combining electromagnetic jamming, AI-assisted targeting, and layered interception strategies. These adaptations point to the urgent need for multi-domain defense doctrines that integrate drones not as adjuncts but as central actors.

Drones are forcing militaries to move from platform-centric to network-centric warfare, multi-domain operations in which adaptability, integration, and resilience matter as much as firepower itself. On the conceptual level, the French armed forces have launched several exploratory efforts—one focused on drone swarms and another on deep-strike operations—and have reflected more broadly on the robotization of the battlefield. These initiatives reflect a growing recognition that drones are not merely tactical enablers but drivers of doctrinal and operational change.
Still Pending Questions and New Political-Strategic Dilemmas

Even as drones reshape the operational art of war, fundamental questions remain unresolved:

Responsibility. Who is accountable in the event of mishaps, accidents, or unintended autonomous attacks?

Thresholds for force. Does the ability to strike without immediate political risk lower the threshold for the use of force?

The doctrinal gap. Traditional militaries are still lagging in formulating doctrines for the mass deployment of drones, leaving a gap between theory in staff colleges and practice on the battlefield.

Ethical and trust questions. While the reality of AI on the battlefield is still far removed from the scenarios imagined in Terminator or Black Mirror, key debates center on maintaining human control and ensuring accountability. Building trust in AI technologies also presents major challenges, from the integrity of data and algorithms to the growing exposure of these systems to cyber threats.

The future of drones. Are drones truly the future of warfare, or merely a transitional phase? The development of sophisticated countermeasures—electromagnetic warfare, directed-energy weapons, and systems like Iron Beam—could eventually render the air drone obsolete.

Conclusion: Between Innovation and Obsolescence

Drone warfare may or may not represent the future of combat, but it is undeniably the reality of today’s wars and a pressing challenge to national security. Ignoring its doctrinal implications risks repeating the mistakes made with tanks after World War I—focusing narrowly on platforms while failing to grasp their revolutionary impact on operational art. Therefore, the strategic question is not over whether drones will last, but on two other issues. First, how can militaries harness their disruptive potential, adapt to their vulnerabilities, and integrate them into a truly multi-domain doctrine that is resilient to technological change? Second, how can procurement agencies create a new ecosystem able to face the challenges of this new industrial revolution and the expectations of soldiers in the field?

Drone warfare may or may not be a revolution in military affairs, but it certainly offers a strong reminder: true revolutions lie not in the platform itself, but in the doctrines, organizations, and military and industrial strategies that integrate it. Whether drones become the future of war or only a passing phase, the challenge is to transform their tactical disruption into lasting operational and strategic effect.


About the author: Tsiporah Fried is a visiting senior fellow at Hudson Institute, focused on transatlantic relations, European defense and military strategy, and defense and tech innovation.

Source: This article was published by the Hudson Institute


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US Troop Reduction In Europe A Wake-Up Call For Allies – Analysis



Troops in NATO exercise in Europe. Photo Credit: NATO

November 15, 2025 
Arab News
By Luke Coffey



It was last month announced by the Pentagon that up to 1,000 US troops currently stationed in Romania will be brought home without any replacements being sent. This decision ruffled feathers within the foreign policy community in Washington, including among members of President Donald Trump’s own party.

There have been three main criticisms. The chairs of the House and Senate Armed Services Committees, Rep. Mike Rogers and Sen. Roger Wicker, respectively — both Republicans — quickly released public statements condemning the move. They argued that at a time when pressure is being put on Russia to come to the negotiating table over Ukraine, it is not the moment to reduce the US military presence in Europe. In addition, there was no formal coordination with Congress on this decision, even though current defense legislation restricts reductions in America’s military presence in Europe unless certain certifications are provided to Congress.

Second, the announcement came in what felt like a policy vacuum. For months, the administration has been promising a new Global Posture Review “by the end of the summer.” This is intended to determine where US military forces are needed around the world and where troop numbers should change. Yet, even though we are now into November, there is still no review in sight. This has led many to wonder how a decision to remove US forces from Europe could be made in isolation from the broader strategic review that is supposed to be underway.

Finally, according to media reports, Romania was given only two days’ notice before the decision to reduce the number of troops in the country was made public. For many policymakers in Washington who focus on the transatlantic community, this lack of consultation with such an important ally had uncomfortable echoes of President Barack Obama’s 2009 decision to cancel the installation of key components of America’s missile defense system in Poland and the Czech Republic — both of which learned of the decision only hours before the White House made the announcement. That episode damaged US-European relations and the recent decision regarding Romania risks doing the same.

Frankly speaking, Trump has had a problem with his Pentagon, with politically appointed officials sometimes getting ahead of the president when it comes to policymaking. Since returning to the Oval Office in January, there have been at least two cases involving Ukraine — related to US military support and intelligence sharing — that caught the White House, and the president himself, off guard. In the case of the US troops being withdrawn from Romania, it is unclear what Trump’s personal involvement or knowledge was. But what is clear is that, from an analytical point of view, removing US forces from Europe undermines the president’s ability to broker peace in Ukraine.

Any reduction of the US force posture in Europe — particularly in Eastern European countries that received additional American troops after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine — could be seen by Moscow as a concession before meaningful negotiations have even begun.

The debate about America’s global force posture is part of a larger discussion inside the administration about what the country’s role in the world should be. In simple terms, there are three groups competing for influence.

The first is the traditional Republican school of thought, which values alliances and US leadership on the global stage. The second is the isolationist camp, which would prefer to see America withdraw from overseas commitments and focus on domestic challenges, perhaps taking a more active role only within the Western Hemisphere. The third group, currently dominant in the Pentagon, consists of the “prioritizers,” who believe that every tool of US national power should be directed toward deterring China and securing the Indo-Pacific — even at the expense of long-standing partners in Europe and the Gulf.

What the prioritizers fail to appreciate is that US forces in Europe contribute to deterrence and flexibility far beyond the continent itself. Up to 90 percent of America’s ground forces are already based in the US and about 60 percent of the navy is oriented toward the Pacific. Removing a relatively small number of troops from Europe would have little strategic effect but significant geopolitical cost.

The notion that these forces could simply be redeployed to Asia is unrealistic. It would require new agreements with regional allies and the construction of new bases, a process that would take years and enormous resources.

While US troops stationed in Europe do strengthen European security, that is not their sole purpose. Their forward presence also provides American policymakers with greater flexibility to respond to crises elsewhere in the world. For decades, tens of thousands of US troops based in Europe have deployed to the Middle East to work alongside partners, particularly in the Gulf, for example. It is faster and cheaper to deploy forces from Europe to the Middle East than from the continental US.

The same logic could apply to East Asia. US forces based in Germany, for example, are geographically closer to the South China Sea than those stationed in the contiguous US.

Ad-hoc announcements about moving troops out of Europe without considering the broader geopolitical implications undermine America’s credibility and leadership. Such moves have ripple effects that go well beyond Europe. The world today is more interdependent than at any other point in history. A US decision in one region inevitably affects others.

America’s choice to withdraw some forces from Europe should therefore serve as a wake-up call to its allies around the world — from the Middle East to the Indo-Pacific. Leaders in these regions should encourage Trump to make such decisions within the framework of a broader strategic vision. The geopolitical stakes are simply too high for America to act otherwise.



Luke Coffey is a senior fellow at the Hudson Institute. X: @LukeDCoffey


Arab News

Arab News is Saudi Arabia's first English-language newspaper. It was founded in 1975 by Hisham and Mohammed Ali Hafiz. Today, it is one of 29 publications produced by Saudi Research & Publishing Company (SRPC), a subsidiary of Saudi Research & Marketing Group (SRMG).

AI Jesus? New Technologies, New Dilemmas For Church Leaders – Analysis



Tumanko, the chatbot created by the Serbian Orthodox Tuman monastery. Photo: manastirtumane.org

November 15, 2025 
 Balkan Insight
By Andreja Bogdanovski


Churches in southeast Europe are under growing pressure to address the theological and practical issues raised by the use of artificial intelligence in religion.

When the 14th century Tuman Orthodox monastery in eastern Serbia unveiled its own chatbot, Tumanko, in September, the priest-like figure dressed in a black robe and holding a smartphone attracted over 800,000 interactions in the first 24 hours, causing its servers to crash.

Tumanko is limited to providing information about the church and its history, but others are going further.

In October, the Metropolis of Nea Ionia in Athens became the first major Church institution to release a fully endorsed chatbot – called LOGOS – offering guidance grounded in Orthodox tradition.

Its chief creator, Athanasios Davalas at HERON ICT Lab, describes LOGOS as “a careful theological assistant”, used most often by those with questions about religious rites and Orthodox history.

LOGOS, Davalas told BIRN, was created to address the “very real pastoral need” of a growing number of people seeking faith-related answers online but who too often encounter generalised, vague and misleading content.

“LOGOS was never meant to replace spiritual guidance, but to offer reliable support grounded in Church teaching,” he said.

But as AI tools proliferate, there is growing pressure on churches in southeast Europe to address the theological and practical aspects of AI use while integrating and supervising these tools within their structures.
Faith powered by ChatGPT

According to Davalas, LOGOS is programmed to respond only with content from officially recognised Orthodox sources, including Scripture, synodal decisions, liturgical texts, and materials previously vetted by the Theological Team of the Metropolis.

“It is explicitly forbidden to answer doctrinal questions based on general internet knowledge or non-Orthodox interpretations,” he said.

Whether an app receives official endorsement from the relevant Church is increasingly becoming a key indicator of legitimacy at launch.

In Russia, for example, a social-networking app called Zosima after a 6th-century saint, and designed for the Russian Orthodox faithful, so far lacks the formal endorsement of the Russian Orthodox Church. Its launch has raised privacy concerns and drew scrutiny for its ability to request highly sensitive personal data including passport details, home address and employment information.

LOGOS, on the other hand, has been developed in partnership with the Holy Metropolis of Nea Ionia, Filadelfia, Heraklion and Chalcedon, which selected the theological reference materials, set content boundaries and doctrinal criteria.

According to its developer, LOGOS is not designed to respond to confessions, political topics, or divisive issues.

Orthodox leaders nevertheless remain cautious about the religious implications of AI.

The impact of new technologies on society was the focus of a conference held in Thessaloniki at the end of September, coinciding with the centenary celebrations of Theologia, the academic journal of the Holy Synod of the Church of Greece, which was attended by theologians and religious leaders, including several Orthodox Patriarchs.

While acknowledging AI’s potential benefits, several church leaders placed greater emphasis on the dangers it might pose.

The Patriarch of Georgia, Ilia II, warned that AI holds the power to lead the world “into an abyss”, while the Bulgarian Patriarch Daniil spoke against the “technologisation of life”.

“We must not let artificial intelligence create the illusion that it can replace or eliminate prayer and asceticism,” Daniil said.

“We must never forget that no matter how much artificial intelligence develops or upgrades, it can never acquire what the Fathers call the ‘mind of Christ.’ The mind receives the gift of grace, within prayerful, Eucharistic and sacramental communion with Christ.”

Technology should be seen as a “gift from God to humanity”, Romanian Patriarch Daniel said; it becomes “problematic when it no longer serves humanity but tends to replace it”.
Is technology ‘spiritually neutral’?

In August last year, an AI-powered Jesus was installed in a confession box in a Catholic church in Lucerne, Switzerland, as part of a years-long collaboration with a local university research lab on immersive reality.

Over a two-month period, more than 1,000 people took the opportunity to interact with the avatar; some engaged deeply on issues of love, war and suffering.

There have been examples elsewhere of AI tools being used to write sermons or bring religious literature, such as the Bible, closer to believers.

In Bulgaria, Archimandrite Nicanor, abbot of the Tsarnogorsky Orthodox monastery, which runs its own agricultural farm in western Bulgaria, said there was no reason to believe that technology can replace “the real spiritual life”.

Technology, he told BIRN, is “spiritually neutral”.

“We must never forget that these are just machines,” Archimandrite Nicanor said. “There is no intelligence or personality behind artificial intelligence. It is simply a sophisticated computer, the essence of which is based on hardware and electrical impulses. There is no life there, just as there is no life in a garden shovel.”

Emphasising the role that the Orthodox church has in AI and digital transformation, Archimandrite Nicanor added: “The Orthodox Church, in order not to become a sect, must educate its followers to have a correct attitude towards the material world around us, and towards digital technologies and AI.”
Orthodoxy in the age of the algorithm

Whether rapidly evolving AI technology is truly neutral in today’s world, where it intersects with social media algorithms, is a topic of growing concern in certain corners of Orthodoxy.

At the centre of the debate in the United States is the power of algorithms that curate and deliver content to users mainly through social media feeds. Some scholars point out that, increasingly, the authority in the online world of religion does not come from the priest or bishops but through viral videos and influencers.

An increasing number of ‘Orthodox influencers’ are gaining popularity by exploiting divisive issues, often aligning with right-wing and Christian nationalist narratives, thereby reshaping Orthodox identities online.

Orthodox Christian culture in US is evolving “due to algorithmically driven consumer-based content in which AI is used to drive optimisation”, said Sarah Riccardi-Swartz, an assistant professor of religion and anthropology at Northeastern University, Boston.

Riccardi-Swartz told BIRN that the Orthodox Church must step up and address how digital technologies are “transforming Orthodox sociality, authority, education, and theological values”.

She pointed to an informal survey carried out by the Orthodox Church in America in 2023, specifically targeting recent US converts to Orthodoxy and concluding that encountering Orthodoxy online has been a significant pull factor.

“Young men are finding Orthodoxy through social media content creators,” Riccardi-Swartz said, underscoring that many of these content creators are “often politically far right and produce content that is misogynistic, racist, and antisemitic”.



Balkan Insight

The Balkan Insight (formerly the Balkin Investigative Reporting Network, BIRN) is a close group of editors and trainers that enables journalists in the region to produce in-depth analytical and investigative journalism on complex political, economic and social themes. BIRN emerged from the Balkan programme of the Institute for War & Peace Reporting, IWPR, in 2005. The original IWPR Balkans team was mandated to localise that programme and make it sustainable, in light of changing realities in the region and the maturity of the IWPR intervention. Since then, its work in publishing, media training and public debate activities has become synonymous with quality, reliability and impartiality. A fully-independent and local network, it is now developing as an efficient and self-sustainable regional institution to enhance the capacity for journalism that pushes for public debate on European-oriented political and economic reform.



 

Iran's Latyan Dam drops to just 9% capacity amid water crisis

Iran's Latyan Dam drops to just 9% capacity amid water crisis
Latyan Dam, outside Tehran. / CC: ISNA
By bnm Tehran bureau November 13, 2025

Iran's Latyan Dam, one of Tehran's primary water sources, has fallen to approximately 9% of its capacity, marking the lowest reservoir since completion, the Ministry of Energy reported on November 13.

The dam's reservoir, which has a capacity of around 95mn cubic metres, has faced a continuous decline in reserves over the past 10 years. Consecutive droughts, a 40% to 50% drop in rainfall, and increased urban consumption have pushed the dam to its lowest storage level in recent history, with overall levels across dams feeding the capital city reaching an average of 5% capacity.

To stem the losses, Energy Minister Abbas Aliabadi warned that a Tehran household consuming 145 times the standard water consumption pattern will face disconnection in addition to fines, as authorities intensify efforts to enforce fair usage, Tasnim reported on November 12.

Aliabadi announced the policy shift during a meeting with Kerman province representatives in the Islamic Consultative Assembly and water and electricity industry managers at Kerman governorate. He stated that this year's slogan is "restriction instead of cuts" in energy consumption management.

"Such behaviour is unacceptable. In these cases, in addition to fines, water disconnection will also be implemented," Aliabadi said, according to Tasnim. "Water is the share of all people and no one should violate this public right."

The minister outlined plans to delegate extensive powers to provinces contingent on fair management implementation. He stated his readiness to transfer all Ministry of Energy authorities in water and electricity sectors to governors if equitable consumption management is guaranteed.

Iran is confronting one of its most severe water crises in recent decades, with Tehran's dam reserves falling 43% and officials warning of potential rationing and emergency evacuations.

President Masoud Pezeshkian warned that if rainfall does not arrive by December, the government will be forced to begin water rationing in Tehran. "Even if we ration and still no rain comes, then we will have no water at all. People will have to evacuate Tehran," he said, according to Jahan Sanat.

Tehran Water and Wastewater Company has denied reports of official rationing in Tehran but IntelliNews previously reported that nighttime water pressure reductions are being implemented, with regions of the capital city seeing severe drops in pressure through the day.

Pirouz Hanachi, former mayor of Tehran, warned that water consumption increases tenfold for every residential unit built, criticising unplanned construction for exacerbating the capital's water crisis, SNN recorded him as saying on November 12.

"This is Tehran, not Switzerland," Hanachi said, referring to the water crisis in Tehran and the role of unplanned construction in intensifying the problem.

He stated that for every residential unit constructed, water consumption equivalent to 10 units increases, and this trend must not continue.

Iran has recorded just 3.5 millimetres of rainfall over the past 50 days, equivalent to 18% of the normal average, with 20 provinces receiving no precipitation at all, Khabaronline reported on November 13.

The previous water year marked the country's fifth consecutive dry year, accompanied by a 40% decrease in rainfall. This sharp decline in precipitation created difficult conditions for drinking water supply, agriculture, and various consumption needs, according to Hamshahri.

Despite severe reductions in water resources in dams and reservoirs, the country managed to pass the previous water year with minimal disruption. Tehran and Bandar Abbas experienced unprecedented water shortages last year, with dam water volumes reaching their lowest levels in operational history.

Dam construction, water transfer lines, and irrigation and drainage networks represent examples of Iran's approach to water governance over past decades. These measures were implemented to solve water problems and develop regions, but in many cases brought social, economic, security, and political consequences.

China unveils world’s first thorium-powered container ship

China unveils world’s first thorium-powered container ship
China unveils world’s first thorium-powered container ship that will signficantly reduce maratime emissions. / bne IntelliNews
By bne IntelliNews November 14, 2025

China has launched the world’s first container ship powered by a thorium molten salt reactor (TMSR), marking a potential milestone in nuclear maritime propulsion and low-emission shipping technologies.

The vessel, named KUN, features a nuclear propulsion system based on a thorium-fuelled molten salt reactor. The design reportedly mirrors the capabilities of the S6W reactors used in U.S. Navy submarines, but with notable advantages in safety, sustainability, and proliferation resistance.

Unlike traditional pressurised water reactors, the thorium molten salt reactor operates at low pressure, significantly reducing the risk of catastrophic meltdown. It uses thorium as a fuel, a material that is more abundant and considered safer than uranium. The TMSR system also produces minimal long-lived radioactive waste and is not suitable for weaponisation, which could ease international concerns over nuclear-powered commercial vessels.

Russia has also been investing heavily into developing its already world class nuclear technology. In September, President Vladimir Putin claimed Russia has made a nuclear technology breakthrough with the development of the first industrial-scale closed fuel cycle reactor, the BREST-OD-300, which would be a gamechanger if the claims are confirmed.

A closed fuel cycle reactor is a fuel management strategy, not a specific reactor type. Spent nuclear fuel is reprocessed and reused, rather than being treated as waste after one use, as in an open fuel cycle.

Among the applications is to build nuclear powered icebreakers to allow the transit of goods via the so-called Northern Route that transverses Russia’s northern boast and cuts journey times by a third. It also avoids the southern routes that are dominated by the US navy.

Russia has expanded use of the northern route that has become more passable thanks to global warming. This September China sent its first ships in the opposition direction and in October Beijing and Moscow signed a cooperation deal to further extend the trade route.

The new Chinese nuclear powered ship carries the slogan “Embracing Net-Zero Future” and forms part of China's broader push to decarbonise maritime logistics and secure leadership in next-generation nuclear technologies. The vessel’s low-emission propulsion is expected to help meet global shipping decarbonisation targets, which call for a 50% reduction in greenhouse gas emissions by 2050 under International Maritime Organization (IMO) regulations.

The thorium-powered ship also has potential dual-use implications, as advances in compact, low-waste reactors could be adapted for both civilian and military applications. China’s investment in TMSR research, based in the Gobi Desert at the Shanghai Institute of Applied Physics, has seen accelerated development over the past decade.

If proven viable, thorium reactors could reshape the global shipping industry, offering energy independence from fossil fuels and improved safety for nuclear-powered commercial fleets.

“This could be a genuine turning point for clean marine energy,” a Chinese nuclear engineer told South China Morning Post on November 10.

KUSHNER REALTY CONDOS

Leaked documents show Belgrade signed secret deal with Kushner to redevelop protected site

Leaked documents show Belgrade signed secret deal with Kushner to redevelop protected site
A company owned by Jared Kushner, son-in-law of US President Donald Trump, plans to redevelop the former General Staff headquarters in central Belgrade.
By Tatyana Kekic in Belgrade November 14, 2025

Serbia’s government quietly signed a joint venture last year with a company owned by Jared Kushner, son-in-law of US President Donald Trump, to redevelop the former General Staff headquarters in central Belgrade, according to documents published by Serbian investigative weekly Radar on November 13.

The leaked 2024 investment agreement shows that Kushner’s firm, Atlantic Incubation Partners LLC, would hold a 77.5% stake in the venture, with the Serbian state retaining 22.5%. The project foresees a luxury hotel, residential units and a museum on the site of the Yugoslav army headquarters, which was bombed by Nato in 1999 and since protected as a cultural landmark.

Under the deal, Serbia committed to demolish all existing buildings and remove the site’s protected heritage status “in a manner satisfactory” to Kushner’s company. The land is to be leased to the US developer free of charge for 99 years, with the option to convert the lease into ownership. If Serbia fails to meet its obligations by May 2026, the company may terminate the contract “at its discretion” and claim millions of euros in damages, the documents show.

The Serbian government has not disputed the authenticity of the published agreement, which was kept from the public until Radar made it available this week. The revelations have intensified criticism of a special law passed by parliament on November 7 that fast-tracks redevelopment of the site as a “project of national importance”.

The lex specialis allows authorities to bypass planning and regulatory procedures that had stalled the project earlier this year, when prosecutors opened an investigation into whether documents used to strip the complex of its protected status had been forged. Goran Vasić, acting head of Serbia’s cultural heritage institute, was arrested in connection with the case; the probe is ongoing.

The parliamentary vote — 130 in favour and 40 against — took place amid nationwide demonstrations led by students and activists protesting corruption, weakening institutions and what they see as government cronyism. This week, demonstrators formed a human chain around the bomb-damaged complex, drawing a symbolic red line in an effort to halt what they call the “sell-off” of one of Belgrade’s most important modernist sites, designed by architect Nikola Dobrović.

Opposition lawmakers condemned the lex specialis, saying it overrides urban planning rules and public interest. Ivana Rokvić of the People’s Movement of Serbia compared the decision to other controversial state-backed developments, including Belgrade Waterfront, arguing the government was trading “a symbol of history and sacrifice” for political favour “and a little bit of Trump’s mercy”.

The project is also seen as Belgrade’s attempt to curry favour with Washington after the US imposed sanctions on Serbian oil company NIS, majority-owned by Russia’s Gazprom. The agreement references an interstate framework with the United Arab Emirates, which also underpins the Belgrade Waterfront development by UAE-based Eagle Hills, a partner in Kushner’s wider regional projects.

Public scrutiny is mounting as details of the deal emerge. The investment agreement published by Radar states that if Serbia does not complete demolition and prepare the land to the investor’s satisfaction by May next year, Atlantic Incubation Partners may walk away and demand compensation.

Despite the backlash, the government has defended the redevelopment as a driver of economic growth and part of a broader strategy to revitalise central Belgrade.

Construction cannot begin until the state meets its contractual obligations — including clearing the ruins that for many Serbians remain a potent symbol of the 1999 conflict.

 

Kyrgyzstan: Independent media outlets branded extremist, tantamount to terrorists

Kyrgyzstan: Independent media outlets branded extremist, tantamount to terrorists
Joomart Duulatov (left) and Alexander Alexandrov, former videographers for investigative news site Kloop, were sentenced in September to 5 years in prison for provoking mass disorder. In October, Kloop was classified extremist, along with other prominent media outlets Temirov Live and Ait Ait Dese. / Kloop
By Eurasianet November 14, 2025

The Kyrgyz government has branded some of its fiercest media critics as “extremist” thus criminalising any action to circulate the outlets’ content. Journalists affected by the move remain defiant, contending that the attempt to muzzle their news organisations will not stop the circulation of dissenting views via the internet.

A Bishkek court in late October classified three prominent independent outlets — Temirov Live, Kloop.kg, and Ait Ait Dese — as extremist organisations, effectively equating them with terrorist groups and deeming the distribution of non-government-sanctioned news as a threat to national security. The ruling enables incumbent authorities to tighten their control over the flow of information during the run-up to snap parliamentary elections scheduled for November 30.

The decision, which took effect immediately, prohibits the dissemination, storage or even the “liking” of materials from the proscribed outlets, with violations punishable by up to seven-year jail terms under Article 330 of the Criminal Code. 

The court ruling also targets Bolot Temirov and Rinat Tuhvatshin, founders of Temirov Live and Kloop respectively, labelling them as “extremist” individuals. Both are now working in exile after leaving the country during the earlier phases of the government’s continuing crackdown on independent media.

“We received no notifications,” said Rinat Tuhvatshin, speaking from an undisclosed location abroad. “I learned about it from Facebook. The court and GKNB [state security service] knew our lawyer was trying to access the case files, but they refused [access]. They claimed our whereabouts were unknown, even though they knew where we are.”

Kyrgyz authorities sought to have a so-called Red Notice issued for Tuhvatshin’s arrest, but Interpol, the France-based international criminal police organisation, rejected the request.

Tuhvatshin argued the court ruling will ultimately prove destabilising for the country. “In the end, this harms Kyrgyzstan more than us,” he said. “As long as there are people, there’s resistance.”

“Democracy is relative — now there’s less of it [in Kyrgyzstan],” he added. “But politics is boiling; factions within [President Sapyr] Japarov’s and [national security chief Kamchybek] Tashiev’s camps are clashing openly. The people are more engaged than ever.”

The official text of the ruling remains unpublished by the General Prosecutor’s Office, leaving journalists and citizens in legal limbo. “The decision entered force upon pronouncement, so risks are real now,” said Akmat Alagushev, a media lawyer with the Media Policy Institute. “Without the full text from the Prosecutor General, we don’t know exactly what’s prohibited. People are deleting old posts to avoid charges.”

The Committee to Protect Journalists assailed the ruling, saying it inhibits watchdog reporting aimed at holding officials accountable for their actions. 

“It is still unclear how the authorities will enforce the ban in practice,” a CPJ statement reads. “But one thing is clear: this is a blow to investigative journalism, which exposed corruption in the highest echelons of power.”

The court ruling marks a significant escalation of a three-year campaign against independent journalism under Japarov, who rose to power in the chaotic aftermath of the 2020 parliamentary elections. Once a populist firebrand freed from prison by protesters, Japarov has consolidated authority, appointing ally Kamchybek Tashiev to head the State Committee for National Security (GKNB), which has spearheaded the crackdown.

In the years immediately before Japarov’s rise, outlets like Kloop and Temirov Live gained wide recognition in Kyrgyzstan for exposing high-level corruption. Soon after Japarov gained power, the watchdog outlets began contending with various forms of difficulty, including online trolling, DDoS attacks and advertising boycotts.

The legislative framework governing mass media operations started tightening in 2021. Azattyk (the Kyrgyz service of Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty) faced account freezes and near liquidation in 2022-2023, allegedly because the outlet’s coverage of border strife with Tajikistan displeased officials. Temirov was arrested in 2022 on trumped-up charges and deported; in 2024, 11 Temirov Live journalists were detained. This year, the Kloop Foundation was liquidated in February, TikTok was blocked in April, and Aprel TV was closed in July. 

Japarov signed a “foreign agents” law in 2024, essentially a copy of legislation adopted by Russia, giving the government leverage to potentially shut down non-governmental organisations or media outlets that accept foreign funding.

Political analyst Temur Umarov of the Carnegie Russia Eurasia Center said Japarov has now taken “authoritarian learning” to a new level by labelling nettlesome watchdogs as extremists. 

“‘Extremism’ is a perfect tool — it allows international pursuits via bilateral extradition deals, even if Interpol rejects for political motives,” Umarov said. “Previous regimes copied Moscow, but Japarov has taken it to extremes.”

This article first appeared on Eurasianet here.