Ukraine’s robot combat units reflect escalating tech-driven warfare amid global arms race and systemic militarisation

Indigenous perspectives on warfare prioritise relational accountability and the sanctity of life over technological dominance, framing robotics as a violation of ancestral ethics. Many Indigenous communities view autonomous weapons as a modern extension of colonial violence, where decision-making is outsourced to machines that lack cultural or moral context. The militarisation of robotics also disrupts traditional conflict resolution mechanisms, which often rely on dialogue and restorative justice rather than kinetic force. However, some Indigenous engineers and activists are advocating for ethical frameworks that centre Indigenous knowledge in designing non-lethal robotic applications for humanitarian demining or environmental monitoring.

The use of robots in warfare is not new but follows a long historical trajectory of mechanising violence, from the crossbow to the AK-47 to today’s drones. The post-9/11 era normalised remote warfare, with the U.S. leading the deployment of over 11,000 drones in conflicts like Iraq, Afghanistan, and Pakistan, setting a precedent for Ukraine’s adoption of robotics. The arms race dynamic mirrors the Cold War’s nuclear proliferation, where technological superiority became a proxy for geopolitical power. However, unlike nuclear weapons, autonomous systems are being developed by both state and non-state actors, lowering the threshold for conflict and increasing the risk of escalation.

Cross-culturally, the response to robotised warfare varies from cautious acceptance in technocratic societies to outright rejection in communities with histories of colonial violence. In Japan, where robotics is culturally embedded in societal trust, there is debate about using robots for disaster response rather than combat, reflecting a cultural preference for non-lethal applications. In contrast, in the Middle East, the term ‘robot soldiers’ is often met with fear, as it evokes memories of drone strikes that have killed thousands of civilians. Meanwhile, in India, the military’s use of robots for counterinsurgency in Kashmir has sparked ethical concerns, with activists drawing parallels to colonial-era policing tactics.

Scientifically, the effectiveness of robot combat units in Ukraine is still debated, with claims of over 100 attacks needing independent verification due to the lack of transparent methodologies. Studies on autonomous weapons systems (AWS) highlight their limitations, including sensor errors, hacking vulnerabilities, and the inability to distinguish combatants from civilians in complex environments. The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) has warned that AWS could violate international humanitarian law by failing to meet the principles of distinction, proportionality, and precaution. However, proponents argue that robots reduce human casualties among Ukrainian forces, though this ignores the broader ethical and strategic trade-offs.

Artistically, the imagery of robot soldiers evokes dystopian futures where humanity cedes control to machines, a theme explored in works like *Terminator* or *Ghost in the Shell*. Spiritual traditions across cultures warn against the dehumanisation inherent in delegating lethal decisions to algorithms, framing it as a violation of the sacredness of life. In Hindu philosophy, the concept of *ahimsa* (non-violence) directly conflicts with the logic of autonomous weapons, while in Buddhist thought, the attachment to technological solutions often reflects deeper societal delusions. Indigenous oral traditions, such as those of the Māori or Navajo, also frame warfare as a disruption of cosmic balance, making robotised violence spiritually corrosive.

Future modelling suggests that the proliferation of robot combat units could lead to an arms race where non-state actors and smaller states adopt these technologies, destabilising global security. Scenario planning by the Future of Life Institute warns that autonomous weapons could enable mass casualty events at scale, with hacking or AI misalignment as potential tipping points. The integration of robotics with AI could also lead to ‘swarm warfare,’ where thousands of drones operate in coordinated attacks, overwhelming traditional defense systems. However, alternative futures include the banning of autonomous weapons under international law, as advocated by the Campaign to Stop Killer Robots, or the development of ethical frameworks that prioritise human oversight and accountability.

Marginalised voices—particularly those of civilians in conflict zones, women peacebuilders, and disabled veterans—are entirely absent from the narrative, despite bearing the brunt of robotised warfare. In Ukraine, the use of robots has been framed as a ‘necessary evil’ to counter Russian aggression, but this ignores the voices of civilians in occupied territories who face the dual threats of drone strikes and misidentification by automated systems. Women-led peace organisations, such as the Ukrainian Women’s Congress, have criticised the militarisation of technology as a distraction from diplomatic solutions. Meanwhile, disabled veterans and their families often highlight how robotics in warfare perpetuates cycles of trauma, with little investment in their rehabilitation or reintegration.