We've been living with this kind of strike for years
In the early hours of a Wednesday that Russia had reserved for economic pageantry, Ukrainian drones found their way to St. Petersburg's oil terminal and military base — arriving just as nearly twenty thousand delegates gathered for a forum once called the Russian Davos. The strike, coming less than a day after Russian missiles killed twenty-three Ukrainians, is less a single event than a chapter in a four-year cycle of reciprocal destruction that has reshaped Europe's order and Russia's place within it. What was once a stage for global capital has become a mirror of isolation, and the smoke rising near the forum's halls carried a message as deliberate as any keynote address.
- Ukrainian drones struck St. Petersburg's oil terminal and Kronstadt military base on the opening day of Russia's flagship economic forum, forcing the city's main airport to close and sending smoke billowing near the venue as sessions began.
- The assault came fewer than twenty-four hours after Russian missiles and drones killed twenty-three people across Ukraine, tightening a cycle of tit-for-tat strikes that shows no sign of breaking.
- Zelensky framed the operation as 'long-range sanctions' — a calculated effort to degrade Russian military and economic capacity and to disrupt the message Putin planned to deliver to the world on Friday.
- Where Western leaders once filled the forum's halls, this year's guest list features the presidents of Uzbekistan and Tanzania, ministers from Cuba and Belarus, and figures like Candace Owens and Steven Seagal — a roster that maps Russia's deepening diplomatic isolation.
- NATO's Mark Rutte and the EU's Kaja Kallas, visiting Kyiv the same morning, called the strikes evidence of Russian desperation, framing the war not as a stalemate but as a slow, grinding Ukrainian advance.
- A Moscow businesswoman at the forum told reporters she felt no fear — 'We've been living with this kind of strike for years' — a quiet testament to how completely the war has settled into the fabric of ordinary Russian life.
Ukrainian drones struck the St. Petersburg oil terminal and the Kronstadt military base on Wednesday morning, their timing calibrated to coincide with the opening of Russia's International Economic Forum — an event drawing nearly twenty thousand delegates and featuring Putin as keynote speaker. The attack came less than a day after Russian missiles and drones killed twenty-three people across Ukraine, the latest turn in an escalating cycle of strikes with no diplomatic exit in sight.
St. Petersburg's airport closed for several hours, smoke rose near the forum's headquarters, and Governor Alexander Beglov confirmed infrastructure damage while reporting no fatalities. Zelensky described the strikes as justified retaliation and part of a deliberate campaign of 'long-range sanctions' aimed at degrading Russian military and economic capacity. Ukrainian officials were explicit: the goal was to disrupt the forum and undercut the message Putin intended to project.
The forum's guest list told its own story. Once nicknamed the Russian Davos and host to leaders from Germany, France, and Japan, this year's gathering drew the presidents of Uzbekistan and Tanzania, ministers from Cuba, Belarus, and the Gulf, and Western fringe figures including Candace Owens and Steven Seagal. The broader absence of Western leadership was unmistakable — a living map of Russia's isolation.
Visiting Kyiv the same morning, NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte and EU foreign policy chief Kaja Kallas called the strikes evidence of Russian desperation, framing the conflict as a slow Ukrainian advance rather than a stalemate. Meanwhile, a Moscow businesswoman at the forum told reporters she felt no fear of further attacks. 'We've been living with this kind of strike for years,' she said — a remark that captures how thoroughly the war has become woven into Russian daily life, even as it remains, for most of the world, a distant catastrophe.
More than four years in, the pattern holds: Russia strikes Ukrainian cities; Ukraine targets Russian military and economic assets; negotiations stay frozen; the world watches and chooses sides. The St. Petersburg forum, once a gathering place for global capital, has become instead a symbol of the war's deepening grip on Europe's future.
Ukrainian drones struck energy and military targets in St. Petersburg on Wednesday morning, timing their assault to coincide with the opening day of Russia's flagship International Economic Forum—an event that would draw nearly twenty thousand delegates from a hundred and thirty countries and feature President Vladimir Putin as a keynote speaker. The attack came less than twenty-four hours after Russian missiles and drones had killed twenty-three people across Ukrainian territory, part of an escalating cycle of strikes that shows no sign of slowing as peace negotiations remain frozen.
The drones hit the St. Petersburg oil terminal and the Kronstadt military base, according to Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, who characterized the strikes as justified retaliation. The impacts forced the closure of the city's main airport for several hours and sent visible plumes of smoke rising near the forum's headquarters as the first sessions began. St. Petersburg's governor, Alexander Beglov, confirmed that multiple infrastructure sites had sustained damage, though he reported no fatalities. Zelensky's government frames such operations as "long-range sanctions"—a deliberate campaign to degrade Russian military and economic capacity in response to what it views as relentless Russian bombardment of Ukrainian civilians and infrastructure.
The timing was no accident. Ukrainian officials stated explicitly that the goal was to disrupt the economic forum and the message Putin intended to deliver on Friday. The strike underscores how thoroughly the war has reshaped Russia's international standing. Before the February 2022 invasion, the St. Petersburg forum—once nicknamed the Russian Davos—had hosted leaders from Germany, France, and Japan. This year's guest list tells a different story: the presidents of Uzbekistan and Tanzania, ministers from Cuba, Belarus, the United Arab Emirates, and Saudi Arabia, alongside controversial Western figures including the American conservative commentator Candace Owens, actor Steven Seagal, and representatives of Germany's far-right AfD party. The UN Secretary-General, António Guterres, is scheduled to appear on a panel about the environment, but the broader absence of Western leadership is unmistakable.
NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte, visiting Kyiv on Wednesday alongside EU foreign policy chief Kaja Kallas, offered his assessment of what the drone strikes revealed. "While Ukraine continues to resist, innovate, and achieve victories on the battlefield, Russia grows increasingly desperate," Rutte said. Kallas went further, describing the strikes as evidence of "panic spreading on the Russian side" and suggesting that intensified Russian attacks on Ukrainian targets reflect Moscow's inability to respond effectively to Ukrainian military action. Both statements frame the conflict not as a stalemate but as a slow Ukrainian advance despite Russia's numerical advantages.
The human cost remains the baseline fact. Twenty-three people dead in Russian strikes on Ukraine on Tuesday. An unknown number killed or wounded in the St. Petersburg attacks on Wednesday. The cycle continues without negotiation, without diplomatic off-ramps, with each side claiming justification and promising escalation. A thirty-two-year-old businesswoman from Moscow who had traveled to the forum told reporters she felt no fear about further Ukrainian attacks. "We've been living with this kind of strike for years," she said—a statement that captures how thoroughly the war has become woven into ordinary Russian life, even as it remains, for most of the world, a distant catastrophe.
More than four years into the conflict that has become Europe's deadliest since World War II, the pattern is now established: Russia strikes Ukrainian cities and infrastructure; Ukraine responds by targeting Russian military and economic assets; negotiations remain suspended; the international community watches and chooses sides. The St. Petersburg forum, once a gathering place for global capital seeking Russian opportunity, has become instead a symbol of Russia's isolation and the war's deepening grip on the continent's future.
Notable Quotes
While Ukraine continues to resist, innovate, and achieve victories on the battlefield, Russia grows increasingly desperate— NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte
These strikes demonstrate the panic spreading on the Russian side and explain why they intensify terrorist attacks—they don't know how to respond to these situations— EU foreign policy chief Kaja Kallas
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why strike the forum itself? What does Ukraine gain by disrupting an economic conference?
It's not really about the conference as a social event. The forum is a platform—Putin uses it to project stability and attract investment. By striking it, Ukraine demonstrates that Russia cannot guarantee security even in its second-largest city. It's psychological and strategic at once.
But doesn't that risk hardening Russian resolve? Making them angrier?
Perhaps. But Ukraine's calculation seems to be that Russia is already fully committed to the war. The question isn't whether to provoke them further, but how to impose costs that might eventually force negotiation. These "long-range sanctions," as they call them, target the economic and military sinews that sustain the war effort.
The guest list for the forum—Candace Owens, Steven Seagal—it's almost absurd. How did Russia end up here?
Isolation. Before 2022, this was a serious international gathering. Now the serious players have withdrawn. Russia is left inviting whoever will come—allied governments, yes, but also fringe Western figures who either oppose sanctions or see opportunity in Russia's pariah status. It's a visual representation of how thoroughly the war has fractured the international order.
What about the people living in St. Petersburg? Are they caught in the middle?
In a sense, yes. That businesswoman's comment—"we've been living with this for years"—suggests a kind of resignation. The war is distant enough that daily life continues, but close enough that strikes and disruptions are now routine. It's a strange state to inhabit.
Does Ukraine's framing of these attacks as "justified" actually matter internationally?
It matters for legitimacy. Ukraine is arguing that it's responding proportionally to Russian aggression, that these are acts of self-defense rather than terrorism. Whether the world accepts that framing depends partly on how the war is perceived—and that perception is fracturing along geopolitical lines.