What Electronic Warfare Means in Ukraine

This RUSI special report — drawn from operational data accumulated by the Ukrainian General Staff covering February through July 2022 — is one of the most-cited primary field studies of how modern conventional war is actually being fought. The authors are explicit that it should be understood as testimony rather than a finished academic study, because the underlying source material cannot yet be made public for operational security reasons.

The report's central analytical finding is that Russia planned to seize Kyiv in roughly ten days, relying on speed and strategic deception to keep Ukrainian forces away from the capital. The deception largely worked — Russia achieved a reported twelve-to-one force ratio advantage north of Kyiv. But operational security that enabled deception left Russian forces tactically unprepared, and when speed failed, there were no fallback courses of action. Russia subsequently refocused on Donbas; Ukraine, having largely expended its ammunition supply, lost fire-volume parity. By June 2022, Russia held an estimated ten-to-one advantage in volume of fire — a shift driven not by better technology, but by industrial depth. The report notes that Ukraine began the conflict with 1,176 barrel artillery systems against Russia's 2,433, and 1,680 multiple-launch rocket systems against Russia's 3,547, holding rough parity for about six weeks before munitions ran thin.

Five structural findings stand out for NATO readers. First, there is no sanctuary: persistent unmanned aerial surveillance combined with networked precision fires means that detected forces are struck quickly, so dispersal, concealment, and mobility become survival imperatives. The Russians struck roughly 75 percent of Ukraine's static defense sites within the first 48 hours. Second, electronic warfare is central, not supporting — it determines whether drones, communications, and precision weapons function at all. Russian EW systems and capabilities rarely deconflicted, creating fratricide risk; the lesson for the West is that EW for attack, protection, and direction-finding must be deliberately integrated. Third, precision is contested, not guaranteed: kill chains must be sequenced around EW disruption to create windows of opportunity. Fourth, unmanned systems are essential at every echelon and for every service, but 90 percent of UAS employed are lost — they must be cheap and attritable, with counter-UAS primarily addressed through EW. Fifth, and perhaps most consequential for allied planning: no NATO country other than the United States has sufficient initial weapons stocks or the industrial capacity to sustain large-scale operations.

For Helicon, the RUSI study is a calibration document. It establishes the environment against which candidate capabilities are measured: high-tempo, EW-saturated, logistically demanding, and decided as much by industrial endurance as by any single platform. Helicon screens for technologies that hold up in these conditions — attritable, manufacturable at scale, EW-resilient, and sustainably supportable — rather than capabilities that perform well only in clean demonstration environments. This is a Helicon-written summary; the full report is available at the Royal United Services Institute.

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Stacie Pettyjohn's February 2024 CNAS report offers a disciplined, evidence-based corrective to inflated claims about drone warfare. Its thesis, embedded in the title, is that drones have meaningfully transformed the battlefield in Ukraine but have done so in an evolutionary rather than revolutionary fashion — falling short of the disruptive discontinuity that constitutes a true revolution in military affairs. The report draws on secondary sources and confidential interviews with U.S. government, NATO, and subject-matter experts, situating Ukraine as a case study for thinking about drone dynamics in potential future great-power conflict.

The most important finding about drone roles is that the systems dominating the front lines are cheap, commercial, and attritable — small quadcopters used for ISR and artillery spotting at every echelon, FPV racing drones adapted as inexpensive kamikaze munitions, and long-range one-way attack drones for deep strategic strikes. These are not the autonomous networked swarms of popular imagination. In Ukraine, drones have operated in stacks coordinated by human operators rather than true swarms that autonomously coordinate behavior. Both sides have so far been unable to realize the autonomous swarming concept under real EW conditions. Crucially, mass artillery fires still dominate battlefield outcomes; drones enhance artillery accuracy and extend ground-force reach by roughly six times compared to conventional anti-armor weapons, but they do not substitute for indirect fire mass. FPV drones are very cheap anti-armor weapons with a small payload — tactical beyond-line-of-sight tools, not strategic game-changers on their own.

The cost logic at the heart of the report is important and counterintuitive. Drones are not more survivable than crewed aircraft — they are vulnerable to electronic warfare, guns, and surface-to-air missiles. But cheapness substitutes for survivability: if a system is inexpensive enough, resiliency comes from reconstitution rather than hardening. Both sides have opted to buy more cheap drones rather than harden them against electronic attack. Electronic warfare is in fact the most effective counter, not kinetic interceptors; the primary drone-versus-drone competition has largely been about finding and attacking operators, whose proximity to operating areas makes them vulnerable. The innovation cycle is fast and two-sided: because drone technologies are largely commercial or dual-use, Ukrainian adaptations diffuse to Russia quickly.

Two human-factor findings deserve particular weight. Volunteer networks have played an unprecedented role in acquiring, modifying, building, and professionalizing drone use on both sides — identifying best practices and establishing training pipelines. Skilled FPV operators are a genuine limiting factor; training the human pipeline is as much a part of fielding the capability as procuring the hardware. Helicon's posture follows directly from Pettyjohn's analysis: weight affordability, manufacturability at scale, and EW resilience over novelty; treat integrated sensor-shooter-communications stacks rather than stand-alone platforms as the unit of value; and regard operator training as an integral part of any capability, not an afterthought. This is a Helicon-written summary; the full report is available at the Center for a New American Security.

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Reuters reported on 18 September 2025 that, following the breach of Polish airspace by Russian drones on the night of 9-10 September, Ukraine agreed to provide Polish armed forces with training on drone defense. Ukrainian Defense Minister Denys Shmyhal announced that Ukrainian soldiers and engineers would work with Polish counterparts in a collaborative training initiative to be conducted at a facility in Lipa, in southern Poland. Ukraine also agreed to grant Poland access to systems used to track Russian aerial threats, enabling Poland to monitor potential incursions into its own airspace.

The incursion itself was significant. More than 20 Russian drones entered Polish airspace during the September incident. NATO fighter jets engaged and downed several of them using missiles — at a cost, the reporting notes, significantly higher than the inexpensive, mass-produced drones being intercepted. The cost asymmetry is important: defending against cheap attritable drones with expensive interceptor missiles is not a sustainable equation, and the incident sharpened allied urgency about developing lower-cost counter-drone approaches. Russia stated its forces were conducting operations against Ukraine at the time and denied intending to target Poland.

The training arrangement that followed inverted the usual direction of military assistance. Rather than a more capable NATO member equipping a non-member partner, Ukraine — a state defending itself outside NATO's formal command — transferred operational counter-drone knowledge into a member state's armed forces, because Ukraine holds the most current and hard-won experience in this domain. Shmyhal described the training as covering the full ecosystem of intercepting hostile unmanned aerial vehicles: locating them, employing electronic jamming, and using interceptor drones to bring them down. Ukraine's approach integrates interceptor drones, heavy machine guns, and electronic warfare measures, and the training addressed engineers and soldiers alike — recognizing that the human pipeline is part of the capability.

The episode illustrates a pattern the war keeps demonstrating: the lessons Ukraine has paid for at the front — in detection, electronic warfare, tactics, and operator training — are becoming shared allied assets rather than local knowledge. That knowledge transfer, however, is only as valuable as the quality of the transition pathway through which it moves. The relevant capabilities are detection, location, and protection: understanding where drone threats originate, tracking them, and neutralizing them in ways that protect civilian and military assets. For Helicon, the directional lesson is clear. Frontline learning is valuable to the entire alliance, and the responsible task is moving that learning into trusted U.S. and allied capability deliberately — with attention to provenance, security, and appropriate transition pathways — rather than allowing it to diffuse informally or be lost. We do not republish Reuters' text; this is a Helicon-written summary linking to the original reporting.

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