Yuliya Samaeva / Mirror Weekly
Is Ukraine truly capable of halting civilian aviation in Russia? Or was our government’s political démarche aimed at the domestic audience, which seeks some form of satisfaction amid the growing drone-missile terror, product shortages, and logistical difficulties?
On September 1, Volodymyr Zelensky warned international partners and airlines flying to the Russian Federation about increasing risks for civilian aviation in Russian airspace due to Ukrainian drones. On September 2, Ukraine’s Foreign Minister Andriy Sibiga officially informed the International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO) about the danger of flights in Russian airspace due to increased military activity. This move is logical, considering that back in May, Kyiv proposed an “airport truce” to Moscow, which it refused.
ICAO responded with UN-like concern, stating that it would update risk assessments focusing on how authorities, airlines, and air navigation service providers can better assess threats. This is, of course, a beginning, but a very slow one.
The market reacted more dynamically. On September 1, six flights to/from Moscow, heading to Dubai, Baghdad, and unexpectedly Minsk, were canceled at Vnukovo and Domodedovo. The next day, following Sibiga’s appeal, carriers canceled 25 flights to/from Moscow. The leader was Turkish carrier Pegasus, but Turkish Airlines, Flydubai (UAE), Kuwait Airways (Kuwait), Somon Air (Tajikistan), Nesma Airlines (Egypt), and Shirak Avia (Armenia) also halted flights.
Considering that both airports serve between 350 to 500 flights daily, and up to 60 foreign carriers operate in the Russian Federation, this market reaction cannot be called panic. Here’s why.
Zelensky’s Linguistic Determinism
Already by 2025, every eighth flight in the Russian Federation was delayed by an hour or more, and the number of delays over three hours doubled compared to the previous year. The share of flights that departed on schedule (or with a delay of up to 15 minutes) decreased from 71% to 59% over the year.
May 12, 2026, was the last day when all Russian airports operated routinely. Since then, there hasn’t been a single day without disruptions in their operations.
Since 2025, Ukraine has been deliberately increasing its presence in the Russian skies, and the “Crowbar” plan has become routine for Russian airports. In 2024, there were 91 recorded instances of full stop mode for takeoff and landing operations, but by 2025, there were over seven hundred. On average, restrictions were in effect in four airports simultaneously each day, and at peak activity, in 15 Russian airports. In 2026, the trend continued: on average, operations in seven airports were disrupted daily, with a record simultaneous stoppage reaching 20 airports. The Sochi airport counted 70 days of downtime in the first half of this year. Airlines operating in Russia began to delay flights twice as often and cancel flights four times as often compared to 2025.
In other words, Zelensky did not threaten — he stated openly what has been happening for a year and has not led to any real stops. So, what do we lack to achieve the stated goal — a real paralysis of flights, not chronic delays?
First and foremost, thousands of drones per day, flying exclusively towards Russian airports, is the quantity of UAVs anticipated by the no longer secret operation “M&Ms”. But not only this.
The Anatomy of Paralysis
The increasing problems in the operation of Russian airports indeed correlate with the rise in the number of drones produced by Ukraine: both indicators have increased approximately fourfold since 2024. However, the fact that in 2026 our manufacturers reached a production rate of 10 million UAVs per year is not the only reason why Russian civil aviation is increasingly faltering. There are other equally significant reasons: shortages of aircraft and aviation fuel, and also the specific destinations of the UAVs.
Let’s start with geography. Russia has over two hundred civil airports, 83 of them international. However, there are only five key hubs: Sheremetyevo (43.5 million passengers per year), Pulkovo (20.8 million), Vnukovo (16.4 million), Domodedovo (13.9 million), and Adler (12.5 million). This five airports handle over half of all civil air traffic in Russia. Regionally important hubs include the airports of Novosibirsk and Yekaterinburg — Tolmachevo (9.5 million passengers per year) and Koltsovo (8.3 million). Residents of Trans-Ural Siberia fly through them to airports in Moscow, St. Petersburg, and Sochi.
Thus, to effectively block the skies over Russia, there is no need to target all 200+ airports, it is enough to make the operations of these seven unbearable, as together they handle about 63% of the annual passenger flow. This should be done during peak hours when disruptions have the maximum resounding and economic effect.
The second lever is fuel. Here, tracking the deficit is more complex. Statistically, its production remained stable in previous years: 11.3 million tons in 2021 compared to 11.6 million tons in 2024. However, open statistics miss a significant component in consumption—military aviation. Thus, despite the denial of a deficit by the Russian Ministry of Energy, signs of the issue appear after attacks on all key jet fuel producers. Since June 2026, Russia banned the export of aviation fuel, which should redirect about 2 million tons to the domestic market—giving us an estimate of the deficit volume. Regions have implemented limits on refueling civilian aircraft, confirming that civil aviation competes for fuel with the military. Moreover, since the beginning of this year, jet fuel in Russia has increased more than one and a half times, setting a new historical record in August—1461 USD/ton.
Thus, to enhance the existing trend, we need to concentrate strikes on the skies over large hubs during peak hours and maintain the pace of strikes on refineries that produce aviation fuel.
The third factor, sanctions, fortunately, does not require the use of UAVs. It works, albeit more slowly. Not by half, as at one time expected by our Foreign Intelligence Service, but of 1500–1800 civilian aircraft, currently, 1191 remain, including about 700 Airbus and Boeing in the Russian fleet. There is a shortage of parts and aviation cannibalism. Specifically, Aeroflot bought eight Boeing planes from the cargo company Volga-Dnepr explicitly for disassembly into parts.
Import substitution also did not proceed: the plan to make 270 new MS-21 passenger aircraft by 2030 failed. Now they hope to achieve at least 76 aircraft. Then Russia will have to decommission over three hundred Western planes due to lack of maintenance and spare parts. It will become significantly worse, but not in the short-term.
Who Will Pay the Bill
However, no matter how well-thought-out our tactics are, do they align with the strategy? How much does Ukraine need to invest in this campaign, and what will Russia truly lose if we close its sky?
For some, this will indeed be painful. Only the airport Pulkovo is 100% owned by the city of Saint Petersburg, although the facility itself is transferred under a long-term concession to VTB Bank and a pool of investors from Oman, Qatar, and the UAE (moreover, by Putin’s decree—without voting rights in management). The rest of the assets are highly oligarchic.
Sheremetyevo and Domodedovo are owned through several companies by Putin’s close associate Arkady Rotenberg and his long-time partners Alexander Skorobogatko and Alexander Ponomarenko (nominal owner of Putin’s palace in Gelendzhik).
Vnukovo is effectively an asset of Andrey Skoch, a regular of the Russian State Duma from “United Russia” since 1999 and simultaneously one of the leaders of the Solntsevskaya criminal group.
Tolmachevo, along with 22 other regional airports, belongs to Roman Trotsenko through the company “Novaport.” He is almost an opposition figure: in a leaked 2023 recording of a conversation by businessman Nikolay Matushevsky, a person with a voice resembling Trotsenko’s stated that Russia had fallen “into the hands of some idiots.” However, he has fitting partners. Koltsovo, the airport of another Putin friend, Viktor Vekselberg, is managed by the “Airports of Regions” holding, which operates 11 regional airports and develops six more in collaboration with Trotsenko’s “Novaport.”
However, targeting several pro-Putin wallets in Russia’s skies certainly won’t close the issue.
Pressure on Russian air carriers is also only a secondary objective.
Indeed, the combined net profit of the 14 largest Russian airlines by passenger traffic for 2025 amounted to 276.8 billion rubles, but its main source was the “paper” revaluation of lease obligations for aircraft due to the strengthening of the ruble. Profit directly from sales, on the contrary, is decreasing due to rising costs of leasing and renting aircraft, technical and airport services. The industry is already operating at its limits. However, Russian carriers have long ceased to be masters of their own market. Currently, foreign companies dominate, making up nearly half of all international flights.
The main international carriers remaining in Russia are concentrated on Asian countries, especially China, as well as the Middle East and Turkey. For the fifth consecutive year, they profit from the lack of normal air connections between Russia and the civilized world, essentially taking away the role of national hubs from Moscow airports.
The upside is that this limited circle of partners and destinations complicates the sector’s adaptation to possible new challenges. Especially since Russian carriers are unlikely to replace them for technical and financial reasons. However, there is a downside — all foreign carriers are aware of the risks of this work, are willing to take risks for super-profits, and have a margin of safety.
Thus, likely, after Ukraine’s official appeal to ICAO, insurers and lessors of airlines operating in Russia will raise their rates to compensate for the increasing risks. This will make air travel even more expensive for Russians and the margin for carriers smaller. We also hope that ICAO’s promised review of risk assessments will increase the responsibility of companies for possible incidents, which along with ever-increasing costs, will reduce the attractiveness of working in Russia.
According to calculations by industry specialists, canceling one medium-haul flight (for example, a Boeing 737) costs the carrier 15-23 million rubles. Delays of more than 15 minutes cost almost 1.5 million rubles, as does diverting one aircraft to an alternate airport (1.5-2 million rubles).
However, for foreign carriers to truly abandon such a large market, their operations must be literally blocked long-term, risks maximized, and most importantly, the prospect of returning to normal operations (as they are now) in the foreseeable future removed.
The Kremlin is the Kremlin
Just recently, we described the price Ukraine paid for giving up civilian air traffic. Russia would also like to present a bill.
However, it will cost us too. Every drone directed at an airport or oil refinery is a drone not directed at an ammunition warehouse, a launch facility, or a logistics hub on the front line. Even if our manufacturers achieve the desired 20 million UAVs per year. We cannot have an exact calculation of this compromise. We only hope that the General Staff does. And that it clearly shows the front will not lose if we put all our efforts into preventing Mary from Norilsk from reaching Turkey, with the pleasant bonus of upsetting four of Putin’s acquaintances and the Aeroflot accountant.
The key to this endeavor is to remember that the decision to close the sky is made by the Russian Federation and no one else. Russia cannot be expected to make human-centered or logical steps, it does not recognize the sky as dangerous and will not close it. It is currently quite comfortable wrapped in the “Rug”.
So realistically, the best hope is that airlines will leave. But this will require resources from us, which might be better applied to more prioritized directions.
