This is how Kyiv built the backbone of its defence

Kyiv, from our correspondent. At first glance, the headquarters of the Ukrainian Council for the Defence Industry (UCDI) – an organisation bringing together key companies in Ukraine’s private defence sector – appears devoid of the trappings of a military institution. Yet this is the place where Ukraine’s defence industry is undergoing a revolution, becoming a source of supplies for the army and a source of business for the country. There is the smell of hot coffee; no uniforms; only a few photos of drones draw attention to what is actually being created in these rooms, which might look like any ordinary office with a modest attention to furnishings: wooden desks, small sofas, and air fresheners in the loo. It is in these rooms that the backbone of Kyiv’s defence industry is forged, designed to weather political upheavals, cabinet reshuffles and disappointments, and its management is entrusted to a self-assured expert who speaks like a philosopher of war. Ihor Fedirko arrives on the dot, in short sleeves, his biceps and Cossack tattoos on display, emerging from a small side door. He reveals himself straight away: “I come from a military family; I grew up in this environment and decided to continue dedicating my life to it. I’ve always been involved with weapons and the army; I’m a reserve captain, and until 2012 I was in the Special Forces,” and then he decided to continue working in defence.

“Yes, it represents my whole life,” he repeats. Fedirko speaks as an enthusiast, never as a fanatic; he is deeply immersed in all the most important issues concerning his country’s arms industry, and knows its funding, its flaws, its secrets and even its history. “On my Facebook profile, I have a photo from 2015 – the Russian invasion of Ukraine had already begun, Crimea had been illegally annexed, and in the Donbas, the so-called separatist republics of Luhansk and Donetsk were fighting with the support of the Russian army – The photo captures a moment from the war that now seems so very distant: we were teaching a brigade how to use drones. At the time, even the greatest pioneers – even those who championed innovation – thought that drones were more of a work of art than a weapon.”

“Today,” continues Fedirko, “drones have become indispensable, and we’ve wasted a great deal of time by failing to recognise that this was a revolutionary technology.” Drones have changed everything; the Ukrainians and Russians are chasing each other, and the war has become a constant battle over innovation and adaptation. “When the Russians come up with something new, we know we have to race to find a solution. Today they are more than just kamikaze aircraft; they are platforms capable of laying mines, manoeuvring on the ground and learning to evade our interceptors. We monitor the situation and prepare a solution, but one that must also anticipate the enemy’s next moves; otherwise, it’s a waste of time because whilst we’re developing it, they’re already working on something new.” Fedirko succinctly sums up the situation by saying that the Ukrainians and Russians are playing a game of cat and mouse, and on the battlefield this translates into a largely stabilised situation, “which usually leads everyone to the natural conclusion that the next steps should be diplomatic”, but this is not the message coming from Moscow, which is preparing for another war, believing that every winter will be the one in which the Ukrainians will surrender or the front line will be breached: so far, four winters have passed, during which Kyiv has revolutionised many things, including its defence industry.

“The enemy certainly provides us with a strong incentive to increase our production capacity. The demand from our Armed Forces is constantly growing, and whilst before 2022 Ukraine’s private defence sector was much smaller and the state relied on post-Soviet industrial production, today we have more than 1,600 companies, over 1,400 of which are private – a vast ecosystem that could only be built once the legislation had been changed.” Fedirko places great emphasis on the first lesson the Ukrainians have learnt: speed, without which no change would have been possible. This pace has built the country’s military capabilities: “We brought together companies and engineers, and asked them to act quickly by liaising directly with the front line. Whilst the process initially took years, we are now making progress within a few months and continuing to grow.”

“Whilst the first step was to amend the legislation, which has been streamlined, ‘the second was to revamp the supply system: the front line liaises with the manufacturers, the troops choose what they need and which weapons they are most comfortable with, and the time between placing an order and delivery is kept to a minimum. The third point concerns testing: it must be swift and adequately funded, because new weapons are constantly needed and must be tested. We can now produce far more than the government can provide.” According to Fedirko, Ukraine’s defence system has become a model, with agreements on the rise, but Kyiv still has requests to make of its allies. “We have the experience, which also presents an opportunity for other countries’ defence industries. Europeans need to apply their own technologies, and what we say – somewhat cynically – is: come and do it here; we have the information you need, and it’s also the only way to learn not to be dependent on the United States.” On the front line, progress is being made by trial and error; it is only natural that everything which remains at the planning stage in Europe can be put into practice in Ukraine. “That is why we have proposed the Freyja project, which could become a shield for all Europeans, but it needs to be adapted to each individual system. Europe does not function as a single country, but as twenty-seven – twenty-seven different systems – so it takes time, and simplification is needed.”

At present, Europe’s defence systems do not offer sufficient production capacity to cope with the full scale of modern ballistic threats; companies are trying to adapt them, and Ukraine, which needs them now, therefore remains committed to the idea of starting to produce Patriot systems domestically. US President Donald Trump had said he was ready to grant Kyiv a production licence, but the United States is now stalling, saying that it will take time even just to draft an agreement. Ukraine is awaiting the next step forward; the dance – first with the reservations and now with the shifting moods of the Americans – remains complex and turbulent for the Ukrainians. “Obtaining the licence would send a strong political message; it would mean joining the ranks of allies – alongside Japan – capable of producing the PAC-3 missiles required for the Patriot batteries. Once the political go-ahead has been given, we move on to the business-to-business phase, where the companies take the lead. And we need to work out who in Ukraine could host this production, and where; we need to train the engineers and assembly staff, and secure the funding. If the project were to start now, we could carry out some assembly work by the end of 2027” and, despite the necessary emphasis on speed, it would be worth the wait.

And Ukraine has also learnt to wait, to the point where it has found itself having to advise others: don’t rush into things. “When the Middle Eastern countries turned to us following the Iranian attacks, they wanted an immediate solution. We explained that they were facing a war that would unfold in several waves and that producing solutions based solely on what they were seeing at the time would be pointless. That conflict demonstrated that shooting down drones with Patriots is unsustainable; we had ready-made solutions, but they needed to be adapted to the Middle Eastern context. In the Middle East, we work with countries that have the funds and the political will, but the interception of Shahed drones varies from scenario to scenario, and the governments with which we have signed agreements are aiming for a high degree of localisation and want a substantial part of production to take place on their territory, so we must work out how to set up and scale up our production; it is not simply a matter of supplying tonnes of our equipment, but we have explained that simple solutions often fall short of the adaptations that war demands, and Iran is learning lessons from Russia, which knows full well how to adapt.” For the Ukrainians, being in the Middle East also means setting foot in territories accustomed to cooperating with Moscow, but the Middle East is also the scene of one of Kyiv’s disappointments: “Cooperation with Israel has remained more limited than we had hoped.”

Everything Ukraine knows, it has learnt the hard way; the backbone of Kyiv’s defence also rests on its mistakes, and Fedirko’s appeal to others – directed particularly and earnestly at Europeans – is: learn from our mistakes. “It is hard to accept that this drone war has arrived and that much of the technology in which countries have invested is no longer effective. Many are failing to adapt their military doctrine, repeating, for example, the same mistakes of the Second World War, when Europeans were unprepared for Nazi Germany’s new weapons. Today, Russia has excellent drones, good missiles and an immense capacity to recruit men. It also has a production capacity infinitely greater than that currently available to Europeans, and if the old man sitting in the Kremlin were to decide to change course, towards the EU, his army would advance rapidly. “We can offer up all our mistakes, so that they are not repeated.” Fedirko warns: the enemy must never be underestimated; he is determined, has learnt to be adaptable, innovates, has friends who support him and who want to learn from him, and, above all, does not follow our logic.