The war in Ukraine has long since settled into one of attrition, but the conflict is no longer moving in Russia’s favor.
In January and February, despite steadily intensifying Russian pressure, Ukrainian forces liberated more territory than they had lost for the first time since the summer 2023 counteroffensive. The same was true for April.
Russia is unlikely to achieve at least one of Putin’s primary war aims, the Institute for the Study of War (ISW) said on May 14. “The slowing rate of Russian advances and the challenging nature of the Ukrainian-held terrain in Donetsk [part of the Donbas region] make it unclear that Russia is capable of seizing the territory at all,” it said.
The previous month, Moscow had deployed a record number of drones, escalating attacks across both the frontline and Ukraine’s rear as it tried to force a breakthrough. Yet it failed to produce decisive results, and Russian forces have been unable to convert pressure into meaningful territorial gains or strategic advantage.
In a war of attrition, survival is a strategy. Each additional day that Ukraine withstands Russian attacks is not merely a matter of defense, it incrementally shifts the balance. The side that can sustain pressure longer, absorb shocks more effectively, and degrade its opponent over time will ultimately prevail.
Recent battlefield dynamics suggest Ukraine is not only holding but increasingly shaping the contest. Despite more effort, Russian advances have slowed significantly and, rather than collapsing under intensified assaults, Ukraine has denied Moscow the ability to achieve meaningful territorial gains.
Kyiv’s much-discussed “porcupine strategy”, of making the country too costly to conquer, is not just holding but maturing into something more deliberate: a systematic effort to raise the price of every Russian advance until Moscow can no longer afford to continue. That strategy may be paying off: Ukraine now says it is killing and seriously wounding more Russian servicemen each month than the Kremlin can recruit.
Crucially, a major Russian aim has been to make life intolerable for civilians and businesses far from the front. That, however, has not become the vulnerability Russia had hoped it would.
Moscow’s winter campaign aimed to break Ukraine’s resilience through sustained strikes on energy infrastructure, targeting power generation, heating, and distribution networks. While these attacks inflicted real damage and caused localized blackouts, they failed strategically.
Ukraine adapted by rapidly repairing infrastructure, decentralizing energy supply, improving air defense, and leaning on European support to prevent systemic collapse.
The rate of interception of Russian attacks has risen sharply, and now is around 90%, reflecting rapid advances in defensive capability.
And Ukraine is no longer merely absorbing pressure, it is increasingly imposing it. The expansion of its drone campaign, both in scale and range, marks a significant shift in the character of the war. Ukrainian strikes now reach deep into Russian territory, targeting not only military assets but the economic infrastructure underpinning Moscow’s military.
Energy infrastructure has become a central battleground. Repeated strikes on oil refineries, export terminals, and pipeline nodes, from Tuapse on the Black Sea to facilities in the Urals, are not designed to deliver immediate collapse but to impose cumulative costs on Russia’s war economy, disrupting refining capacity, complicating logistics, and forcing the Kremlin to divert resources to defense.
A sustained Ukrainian campaign of drone strikes on ports and energy infrastructure, compounded by pipeline damage and tanker seizures, cut Russia’s oil export capacity by at least 40% in early 2026, creating the most severe oil supply disruption in the country’s modern history. This is attrition in its purest form: not a decisive blow, but a steady erosion.
Even where infrastructure is repaired or exports resume, the pressure persists. The point is not to eliminate Russia’s oil revenues overnight, but to make sustaining the war progressively more expensive and less efficient.
For Europe and the wider West, the conflict has also underscored a broader geopolitical lesson: energy dependence creates strategic vulnerability. The rapid diversification away from Russian energy since 2022 was not simply an economic adjustment but a security imperative that reduced Moscow’s leverage over European decision-making. Maintaining that resolve will be essential.
For the combatants, energy security has become far more than a supporting factor in the war, it is now central to the strategic balance. Russia’s ability to sustain military operations remains deeply tied to hydrocarbon revenues, while Ukraine’s resilience depends on keeping its own energy system functioning despite relentless attacks. This has transformed pipelines, refineries, ports, power grids, and export routes into instruments of war alongside tanks and artillery.
Domestic production of weapons, particularly drones, has expanded significantly, with Kyiv now reporting surpluses and exploring international cooperation and export opportunities. The country plans to manufacture 7 million drones this year, up from 4 million in 2025. This emerging industrial power reduces Ukraine’s dependence on external supply while allowing it to innovate rapidly.
Meanwhile, Russia’s structural advantages are proving less decisive than many assumed. While its economy remains larger, it is increasingly shaped by the demands of war: high interest rates, sanctions pressure, and a growing dependence on energy revenues.
Moscow is turning to covert mobilization efforts as its forces suffer unsustainably high losses and recruitment declines. Russia is also facing a growing burden in defending its own infrastructure, stretching air defense and resources across its vast territory.
In this context, Western support is the critical variable. Even as US support has become more uncertain, Europe has stepped up in a meaningful way, significantly increasing its contributions and, in aggregate, coming close to offsetting the decline in US aid.
European Union institutions now provide the backbone of financial and humanitarian support, and the bloc’s €90bn ($105bn) package is not simply financial assistance but a signal of long-term commitment that secures Ukraine’s ability to sustain the war. Other allies, including the UK, Japan, and Canada, are also contributing.
In an attritional war, predictability matters as much as scale. Consistent support can shape expectations on both sides, influencing strategic calculations in Moscow as much as operational realities on the ground.
The risk, however, lies in inconsistency. Domestic politics in Western countries, particularly the temptation toward transactional approaches or partial sanctions relief, could undermine the logic that is beginning to favor Ukraine.
The war is no longer defined by rapid offensives or decisive battles. It has become a contest of systems, of economic resilience, technological adaptation, and political endurance. Russia continues to escalate, but without achieving a breakthrough. Ukraine, by contrast, is learning to endure, and, increasingly, to shape the terms of that endurance.
In such a war, victory is unlikely to come suddenly. It will emerge gradually, through the accumulation of small advantages and sustained pressure. For Ukraine, the task is clear: to keep fighting, to keep adapting, and above all, to keep winning one day more.
Margaryta Khvostova is a PhD Candidate in Politics in the Department of Politics and International Relations at the University of Surrey, a PhD Fellow at the Centre for Britain and Europe (CBE), and Programmes Manager at the Centre for the Study of Global Power Competition (CGPC).
Professor Amelia Hadfield is Head of the Department of Politics, Founding Director of the Centre for Britain and Europe (CBE), and Associate Vice President of External Engagement at the University of Surrey.
Europe’s Edge is CEPA’s online journal covering critical topics on the foreign policy docket across Europe and North America. All opinions expressed on Europe’s Edge are those of the author alone and may not represent those of the institutions they represent or the Center for European Policy Analysis. CEPA maintains a strict intellectual independence policy across all its projects and publications.
