Ukraine’s long-range drone program reflects global militarisation of dual-use tech amid unregulated arms markets and proxy warfare

Indigenous communities in conflict zones—such as the Sámi in northern Europe or the Karen in Myanmar—have long experienced militarised surveillance via drones, often deployed by states or corporations to monitor land rights defenders or extractive projects. Their resistance to such technologies, rooted in traditional ecological knowledge and land stewardship, is systematically excluded from narratives that frame drones as neutral tools of war. The militarisation of airspace also disrupts sacred sites and migratory routes, compounding cultural erosion. Western-centric coverage frames drones as 'innovations,' while Indigenous peoples see them as extensions of colonial violence.

The use of long-range drones in Ukraine is the latest iteration of a century-long trend in remote warfare, from WWI’s aerial bombing to the CIA’s 1960s 'Romeo' drone experiments in Vietnam. The 1991 Gulf War normalised precision strikes, while the 2000s 'War on Terror' saw the proliferation of armed drones, with over 14,000 strikes in Pakistan, Yemen, and Somalia alone. Ukraine’s program builds on Soviet-era missile technology and post-Soviet arms markets, where decommissioned stockpiles were repurposed for modern conflicts. This historical continuity reveals how drone warfare is not an aberration but a structural feature of late-capitalist militarism.

In Africa, non-state actors like Boko Haram and Al-Shabaab have used consumer drones for reconnaissance and propaganda, mirroring Ukraine’s tactics but with far fewer resources. In the South Caucasus, Armenia and Azerbaijan’s 2020 Nagorno-Karabakh war demonstrated how drones can tip the balance in ethnic conflicts, leading to ethnic cleansing and displacement. Meanwhile, in the Philippines, both state forces and communist rebels employ drones to monitor mining operations, highlighting how dual-use tech intersects with resource extraction. These cases show that drone warfare is not confined to great-power conflicts but is a globalised phenomenon with localised impacts.

Scientific literature on drone warfare highlights the 'dual-use dilemma,' where civilian drone technology is rapidly militarised due to low barriers to entry and high operational flexibility. Studies show that long-range drones reduce the political costs of warfare by minimising military casualties, but increase civilian harm due to imprecise targeting and delayed accountability. Research also documents the psychological toll of drone warfare on operators, who suffer from PTSD despite never being in physical danger. The lack of international treaties regulating drone proliferation—unlike those for chemical or biological weapons—exposes a critical gap in global security governance.

Artists like Trevor Paglen have documented the aesthetic and ethical dimensions of drone warfare, framing drones as 'algorithmic killers' that redefine human perception of distance and violence. In Sufi and Islamic traditions, the concept of 'ghayb' (the unseen) challenges the transparency of drone strikes, which operate in legal and moral gray zones. Indigenous artists in Colombia and Mexico use drone footage to expose state violence against land defenders, transforming surveillance tools into instruments of resistance. Meanwhile, drone swarms in military parades—like China’s 2018 display—echo dystopian art, blurring the line between spectacle and deterrence.

By 2030, the global drone market is projected to exceed $50 billion, with military applications dominating growth. Scenario modelling suggests that unregulated drone proliferation could lead to 'drone wars' in the Sahel, where non-state actors deploy swarms to disrupt supply chains, or in the South China Sea, where state actors use drones to enforce territorial claims. The integration of AI into drone systems risks autonomous targeting, raising ethical and legal questions about accountability. Meanwhile, climate change may exacerbate drone warfare by increasing resource conflicts, particularly in water-scarce regions like the Middle East.

Ukrainian civilians in frontline regions report psychological trauma from constant drone surveillance and the fear of sudden strikes, yet their testimonies are rarely included in Western coverage. Russian conscripts, often coerced into frontline roles, are treated as disposable in drone-driven assaults, with their suffering framed as collateral damage. In Gaza, Palestinian children have grown up under the constant threat of Israeli drone strikes, normalising a state of perpetual surveillance. Meanwhile, drone debris in Yemen and Somalia contaminates soil and water, disproportionately affecting women and children who bear the brunt of environmental degradation. These voices reveal the human cost of a technologically mediated war.