by In the early morning on Monday last week, Vladimir Shevchuk, 38, arrived at Sheremetyevo Airport in Moscow. Like tens of thousands of Muskovites, the Shevchuks hoped to escape the heat of the city for their summer vacation until an announcement was made about the terminal: suspended all flights.
They spent the day – and the night – on the concrete floor of the airport and waited for updates. It was only the next morning that they were informed that their flight was moved for later a week.
“We saved for this trip for a year,” said Shevchuk. “Our hotel and our car rental cannot be reimbursed and we just can’t move.”
Tens of thousands of passengers such as Shevchuk have thrown their travel plans in chaos in recent weeks when Ukrainian drones repeatedly disrupt airspace through the capital of Russia.
What started as isolated interruptions have developed into a systematic Ukrainian campaign that aimed to bring the war home after normal Russians – many of which otherwise only experienced it from their television screens.
Their inconvenience are trivial compared to the daily reality of the Ukrainian civilians who live under constant threats from fatal rockets and drone attacks. But for many Russians who largely remained isolated by the direct effects of the invasion of Vladimir Putine in Ukraine in 2022 – this could be the most tangible sign that the conflict has started to penetrate their everyday life.
While only a few Ukrainian drones make it through the heavily enriched air defense in Moscow, their relative cheapness compared to the chaos you caused makes an efficient means to demonstrate Russia’s feeling of stability.
Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy has long given up efforts to convince normal Russians to oppose the war. Instead, Kyiv’s strategy seems to focus on ignoring the costs of continuing aggression – not only because of the coffins that return from the front, but also due to growing disorders of everyday life.
The Ukrainian officials have not yet officially commented on the tactics, but they repeatedly emphasized that life in Russia should not remain comfortable for a population that continues to support the war on the whole.
And the tactic seems to wear fruit: regularly shutdown of the airport and missed holidays have become an important topic of conversation in the Russian public – and a growing source of frustration.
In addition to the anecdotal stories beyond missed holidays and ruined business trips, there is a very real and increasing economic costs for the Russia’s aviation industry, which is already tense through western sanctions.
During the heaviest wave of the heaviest travel disorders so far from July 6th to 7th, the airlines all over the country canceled 485 flights and, according to Russia’s Federal Affair Traffic Agency, delayed around 1,900 more. More than 43,000 forced ticket refunds were issued, 94,000 passengers were placed in hotels, and more than 350,000 food and beverage vouchers were distributed.
“It’s not just a headache. The drones completely disturb our operation,” said a senior manager at one of the most important airports from Moscow on the condition of anonymity. “We can’t keep going,” added the manager.
The aircraft chaos seems to have attracted the attention of the Russian leadership. At the beginning of this month, Putin dismissed the country’s transport minister without offering an official statement. But the risks for Russia to keep his sky open are strong.
In December last year, 38 people were killed when the Russian air defense incorrectly turned off a passenger jet Azerbaijani airlines that crashed in Kazakhstan during an attempt to intercept a Ukrainian drone against Grozny Airport. The incident has triggered an unprecedented diplomatic gap with Azerbaijan.
Russian airports are preparing that chaos becomes a permanent feature. In Sheremetyevo, the country’s busiest airport, the mattresses were shot on stranded passengers last Tuesday.
Several important international airlines that continue to carry out flights to Russia – including Turkish Airlines and Emirates – have reportedly started to adapt their schedules in such a way that they take into account the increasingly frequent airspace quarters.
For Shevchuk, the change did little to shake its support for the Russian war in Ukraine. “The earlier we put an end to Ukraine, the better,” he said.
When asked whether experience has made him think about daily suffering and the bombing of the Ukrainian civilians, he twitched. “This is not my problem. Why should our life be affected?”
