Over the past three years, Ukraine’s nights have lost their silence and their beauty. Instead, they are filled with a relentless, haunting drone. First comes the low, persistent buzz—like an old motorcycle rumbling through the darkness. Then a sudden flash, followed by a dull, heavy thud. One after another. Night after night. And with each passing evening, the threat only intensifies.
The Iranian Shahed drone has become a deadly fixture of everyday life. Hundreds of these unmanned killers sweep across Ukraine each night, targeting energy plants, logistics hubs, warehouses, and stations—systematically trying to dismantle the vital lifelines that keep the front lines supplied. Their presence in Ukrainian skies grows by the day, while Russia’s tactics continue to evolve. In recent months, the enemy has moved from scattering drones and missiles across the country to focusing their assaults on single cities, concentrating destruction with chilling precision.
The sheer number of aerial threats doesn’t just strain Ukraine’s air defences—it overwhelms them. Even with all the resources at their disposal, there simply isn’t enough time to track and respond to every incoming target. As a result, the effectiveness of Ukraine’s air defences plunges, and the success rate of enemy drone strikes climbs. The damage to critical infrastructure behind the front lines is devastating—and it’s only a matter of time before that collapse ripples forward, undermining the army’s very ability to fight.
So how did what was once a secondary tool for the Russians become their main weapon of terror against Ukraine? And three years into a brutal full-scale invasion, why have we still not found a cheap, effective way to stop it?
Breaking down the Shahed: what it is and how it works
The Shahed-136 is an Iranian loitering munition crafted with one clear purpose: to penetrate deep into enemy territory with low cost and surprising precision. Developed by the Iranian aerospace firm HESA in the early 2010s, it first underwent testing around 2014–2015. Yet it only drew global attention after being deployed in strikes across Saudi Arabia and Iraq.
Russia deployed the Shahed-136 on the Ukrainian battlefield in 2022. Through agreements with Tehran, Moscow received shipments of these drones—some partly assembled in Iran, others built on Russian soil. By 2023, Russia had expanded full-scale domestic production, notably at a factory in Yelabuga, producing modified versions known as “Geran-2.”
In appearance, the Shahed resembles a motorised delta-wing glider, with a lightweight wooden or polymer frame, a piston engine (early models used a Chinese-made Mado), a basic autopilot system, and a warhead weighing between 30 and 50 kilograms.
Here are the main variants of the drones used in attacks on Ukraine:
- The Shahed-136, also known as Geran-2, is the standard model. It has a wingspan of around 2.5 metres, carries a warhead weighing up to 50 kg, and can travel between 1,000 and 1,200 kilometres. This version is the most common and is often launched in swarms.
- The Shahed-131, or Geran-1, is a smaller, more compact drone with a lighter warhead of roughly 15–20 kg. It’s typically deployed for reconnaissance or to target less heavily defended locations.
- The Geran-2M is a modernised Russian variant featuring upgraded navigation systems—combining GLONASS and inertial guidance—along with a polymer body that reduces its radar signature and improved speed. Some of these carry larger warheads, up to 90 kg.
- Finally, the Geran-3 or Shahed-238 is an experimental model reportedly tested by Russia in 2024–2025. Equipped with turbojet engines and thermal guidance, these drones haven’t been officially confirmed but have been described by air defence operators as faster and much harder to intercept.
Russia is ramping up drone production at an alarming pace. By mid-May 2025, Ukrainian military intelligence estimated that around 170 Shahed drones were rolling off the line each day, including decoys. Meanwhile, Moscow is preparing to open another factory, aiming to push daily output to between 400 and 500 drones.
But the challenge isn’t just about numbers. These drones have also become more sophisticated and increasingly resilient to electronic countermeasures. A year ago, jamming a Shahed was relatively straightforward. Today, it’s a far tougher task. Initially, these drones relied on a basic navigation system that depended on GPS signals from just four satellites. This made it easy for Ukrainian forces to jam or spoof those signals—feeding false coordinates that sent drones veering wildly off course, crashing, or even straying into Belarus.
That’s no longer the case. Modern Shaheds now use advanced multi-channel CRPA (Controlled Reception Pattern Antenna) systems, with 8, 12, or even 16 channels. These antennas can steer their reception beam to pinpoint the direction of incoming satellite signals, filtering out interference or counterfeit data. By “listening” to multiple satellites at once and cross-checking their signals, the drones can now better resist jamming and deception, making them far harder to neutralise.
They’re also fitted with a highly sophisticated controller—the drone’s brain, in effect. This small electronic board oversees every system: navigation, movement and targeting. One of the most common controllers in Russian drones is the “Kometa,” originally developed by Ukrainian engineers. The Kometa doesn’t just work with GPS; it also uses GLONASS and inertial sensors. It tracks the drone’s location, memorises its route, detects any deviations, and automatically corrects its flight path—even if satellite signals are lost.
Put simply, the Shahed has become far less reliant on external signals. Even if jamming is attempted, it will continue following its internal map, relentlessly pursuing its target.
Another significant upgrade is the increase in warhead size. Russian engineers have modified the airframe from the Iranian original, allowing the payload to grow from 52kg to 90kg. With their strike accuracy having improved markedly over the past six months, the outlines of Russia’s new tactics and strategy are already coming into focus.
The first major shift has been in flight altitude. Whereas Shaheds once cruised between 100 and 300 metres in 2022–2023, most attacks now come from 2 to 3 kilometres up—well beyond the reach of small arms, machine guns, or portable air defence systems. Unsurprisingly, military leaders report that the effectiveness of mobile fire teams operating outside cities has plummeted to around 40%.
Next, the attack pattern itself has evolved. Shaheds no longer strike alone; they arrive in waves, approaching from multiple directions. This dispersal forces Ukraine’s air defences to stretch thin, weakening their overall response.
There’s also been a change in tactics. Newer Shahed variants can dive steeply from high altitudes—angles of up to 60 degrees—cutting reaction times to a razor’s edge, especially at night amid heavy electronic interference.
Perhaps most perilous is the use of Shaheds as decoys or scouts. Often, drones aren’t launched to strike but to provoke Ukrainian air defences into revealing radar positions, exposing active systems and measuring response times. Once that intelligence is gathered, missiles follow, targeting those very coordinates.
Countering the upgraded Shaheds threatening Ukrainian cities
The first—and biggest—mistake has been to dismiss these drones as primitive, secondary tools. It’s now clear they have become a central weapon in Russia’s arsenal, and our response must reflect that reality.
That means it’s time to stop blaming European allies for failing to shoot down Shaheds near Ukraine’s borders, or the Americans for redirecting 20,000 anti-drone munitions to Israel instead of Ukraine. None of that will change the situation. Their support alone won’t solve this.
We have to accept that Shaheds are our problem—and only we can solve it. This demands a fundamental shift in focus, launching a comprehensive, well-funded programme with the manpower to meet the challenge head-on. As electronic warfare systems grow steadily less effective, there is only one viable option left: physically destroying the drones.
We’ve already experimented with a range of tactics—from helicopters to light aircraft—but I can’t go into detail publicly about why these haven’t fully succeeded. The experts and military personnel involved understand the challenges, and sharing more would only hand the enemy valuable insights. The idea of deploying stationary combat units equipped with machine guns also fell short. Drones constantly shift their flight paths, making fixed positions ineffective and maintenance-heavy.
Essentially, we’re left with three viable options: continuing to deploy mobile fire teams armed with machine guns or interceptor drones; building networked surveillance systems that involve civilian volunteers equipped with strike capabilities, such as modified FPV drones; and developing and mass-producing affordable man-portable air defence systems (MANPADS).
Mobile fire groups, despite their waning effectiveness, remain one of the more practical tools in the battle against Shaheds. Yet, there’s an urgent need to retrain these teams to work with newer strike technologies—shifting from machine guns to interceptor drones. Operators must learn to pilot specialised interceptor drones, like the “wing,” or certain types of FPV drones, many of which are already available.
A trained crew’s first task is rapid target detection, for which they need advanced radar systems such as the Israeli-made Rada. This radar offers a range of advantages: full 360-degree real-time coverage, a high refresh rate, resilience to electronic interference, the ability to track multiple targets simultaneously, and crucially, mobility. Mounted on a pickup truck, it can be deployed or withdrawn swiftly—so effective that the enemy has prioritised these radars as prime targets. Once a target is identified, mobile fire teams must quickly launch an interceptor drone, pursue the target, close the distance, and strike. It’s a challenging operation, but one that is entirely achievable.
Here, we face two urgent challenges. First: where can we find enough people to become drone operators? And second: even if we do, who will train the thousands needed to fly interceptor drones?
As mentioned earlier, the first step must be to stop pretending this threat doesn’t exist and officially acknowledge the problem at the highest levels of government. Next, we need to abandon tactics that were effective just six months ago and embrace a fundamentally new approach. Crucially, we must recognise that if we want to counter this threat, we can’t rely solely on the Armed Forces. Instead, we must build a system for mass civilian involvement in defending their own cities—and the world already offers a powerful example.
In 1937, British Home Secretary Samuel Hoare launched the Air Raid Precautions (ARP) programme—a nationwide civilian effort to prepare for air attacks. By 1940, more than a million volunteers, though not soldiers, were helping defend the country and their communities. Trained and disciplined, they stood guard daily, supporting the military and emergency services. They carried no weapons, but what they had was far greater: a profound sense of responsibility, unwavering discipline, and a fierce love for their cities and families.
“Civil defence is when the sky becomes your concern,” reads the memorial in Norwich—a tribute well earned. It was the reports from those civilian observers that guided RAF fighters into the air and directed the guns of Anti-Aircraft Command. Without their vigilance, Britain’s entire air defence would have been blind.
Today, Ukraine faces a similar reality. As Commander-in-Chief, the president must call on citizens to help defend their country. Fortunately, Ukraine already has a foundation for civilian involvement: the volunteer formations of territorial communities (VFTCs). With the right support, these groups could rally citizens around a common cause. Recently, the Cabinet of Ministers confirmed that VFTC members are authorised to participate in repelling Shahed drone attacks—and will even receive monetary bonuses for their efforts. By law, they have the right to carry out combat orders and officially bear arms in defence of their homes.
Yet despite these provisions, many remain hesitant to join. One reason is the persistent informal pressure from Territorial Defence Commands (TDCs) to mobilise volunteers without clear guidance. This reluctance highlights the urgent need for open dialogue and the creation of clear, transparent rules to support and empower those willing to stand on the front line of civil defence.
These volunteers should be trained at drone operator centres certified by the state—facilities that first appeared in 2022 and have since carried the bulk of the responsibility for preparing drone operators. Take, for example, the “Kruk” drone operator training centre, which has been running for three years without a single hryvnia of government support.
This could change if the state redirected funding for training from the national budget or empowered local authorities to do so. A draft resolution from the Cabinet of Ministers has been ready for some time, yet for three years it remains unapproved. As a result, these centres lack the resources to expand and train the many citizens eager to defend their cities.
Beyond that, the government must also permit businesses of all kinds and local municipalities to form fire groups and deploy a range of weapons—from drones and machine guns to portable MANPADS. Without this, any defence effort will fall short.
This is the vicious circle we face: the Armed Forces cannot protect every city, while citizens eager to defend their homes are left powerless because the state fails to establish an effective defence system, all the while pretending everything is under control.
Meanwhile, as we turn a blind eye, Shahed drones methodically pick apart our cities like targets in a shooting gallery, reaching their marks with little to no resistance. Time is running out. We must take radical action to change the tide—transforming every city, every home, into a local fortress trained to shoot down these drones.
The choice is stark: either we overhaul our approach and break this cycle, or within a year Russia could seize a decisive advantage on the front, obliterating our infrastructure, defence industry, and the economy as a whole.
