By John Q. Hosedrinker 
Ukraine has intensified its drone attacks on Russia’s energy and defense sectors, notably striking the Lukoil-Nizhegorodnefteorgsintez oil refinery for the second time in a week on May 20, causing a fire in an AVT-6 refining unit. This significant facility, one of Russia’s largest, produces fuel used to support occupation forces. In addition to the refinery, Ukrainian forces reportedly targeted the Nevinnomyssk Azot plant, a key producer of mineral fertilizers and components for explosives, marking at least the seventh time this facility has been hit since the full-scale invasion began. These actions underscore Ukraine’s strategy of leveraging domestically produced drones to disrupt Russia’s war-sustaining infrastructure, including oil refining, logistics, and defense production capabilities.
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It’s been a rather eventful week when it comes to reports out of Ukraine and Russia, with a particularly striking development being the alleged Ukrainian strike on a Russian chemical plant for the second time within a single week. This repetition of targets certainly raises questions about Russia’s defensive capabilities and the strategic choices being made on both sides.
One immediate thought that comes to mind is the pressure this puts on Russian President Vladimir Putin. He’s essentially faced with a dilemma: either significantly bolster his air defenses around critical infrastructure, which could be a drain on already limited resources, or maintain the status quo and risk further “return visits” from Ukrainian forces. Either way, it seems he’ll be compelled to allocate dwindling hardware to protect what are described as war-critical assets, including facilities that produce chemicals essential for manufacturing bombs and bullets.
Interestingly, there’s a cynical observation that, based on a photograph, Ukraine might have actually done Russia a favor by hitting the plant before it might have collapsed on its own. It’s a stark commentary on the state of such facilities. Imagine the strategic advantage if Ukraine possessed longer-range weaponry, like Tomahawks. The idea is that such capabilities could enable strikes on the very drone factories responsible for producing weapons like the Shahed and Geran drones. The analogy used is apt: it’s far more effective to neutralize the “archer” than to continuously intercept the “arrows.”
Beyond the immediate military implications, the potential for environmental damage and long-term health consequences stemming from this conflict is a somber consideration. These effects are projected to linger for at least two generations, highlighting the far-reaching and devastating impact of the war. There’s also a tactical concept at play here, a sort of iterative approach: hit a target, wait for it to be repaired, and then strike it again. The idea is to repeat this cycle, potentially making the enemy complacent or forcing them to divert defenses to anticipated targets, only to then strike an undefended location.
This situation is also occurring because Ukraine has been systematically degrading Russia’s air defense systems over time. Air defense is notoriously expensive and complex to produce, meaning Russia cannot replenish its losses as quickly as they are incurred. Consequently, significant vulnerabilities have emerged in Russia’s airspace, leaving large areas difficult, if not impossible, to defend. This trend is likely to worsen for Russia, forcing them into difficult decisions about what to prioritize. They can’t simultaneously protect oil and chemical plants, naval yards, major cities like Moscow, or even the Kremlin, while also adequately defending their front lines. It’s a matter of physics and resource allocation; they simply don’t have enough to go around.
It’s also worth noting the stark contrast in how attacks are perceived. When Russia retaliates, there’s often an outcry about attacks on civilian property and the endangerment of innocent lives. However, it’s pointed out that Russia has been targeting civilians consistently since the war began. The example of bombing a theater with clear “children inside” signage is used to illustrate this, painting a grim picture of the Russian army’s actions. The idea of Russia launching a “counter-attack” is met with incredulity, given that they are the ones who initiated and have sustained the invasion.
A significant point is made about the origins of NATO itself. Those who subscribe to the Russian propaganda that blames NATO for the invasion fail to grasp a fundamental truth: Russia’s actions are precisely why NATO exists in the first place. Europe, having witnessed the brutal “liberation” of Eastern Europe by the Soviet army after World War II, understood the necessity of unity to prevent a similar fate.
The conflict in Ukraine is now seen as a clear manifestation of what is referred to as the “Russian world”—a reality characterized by violence, rape, torture, and theft, all under the guise of liberation. The suppression of freedoms and pervasive corruption are also highlighted. The observation is that Russia has historically been, and remains, a violent imperialist state, a nature that has not changed. The targeting of civilians, including the elderly and children, is presented as intrinsic to this identity. For some observers, witnessing this unraveling is, unfortunately, a source of grim satisfaction.
Finally, there’s a nuanced discussion about the nature of the problem. While avoiding dehumanizing language, the argument is made that the deep-seated issues lie within Russian culture, potentially stemming from a lack of education, generational trauma from periods of oppression, widespread poverty, and inequality. While Russians are acknowledged as human beings, their societal norms and conduct are described as archaic and rooted in violence rather than freedom.