The wound inflicted by the drone in the centre of Kyiv

Donald Trump’s envoys, Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner, were already making preparations to leave for Moscow to meet Vladimir Putin when a Russian drone entered Kyiv’s airspace, reaching the city centre to strike a white building on Vladimirska Street, not far from St Sophia’s Cathedral. The white building is the headquarters of the Security Service of Ukraine (SBU), and the drone’s target was the office of the agency’s head, Oleksandr Poklad. Poklad survived; the building was half-empty. The impact and the ensuing fire left seventeen people injured, but the image of a drone breaching the air defences and reaching one of the city’s most secure areas – the city centre, where everyone feels safe even during an air-raid alert – has torn open a wound in the convictions of many of the capital’s residents. The city centre is the city centre, and the seats of power had, until now, remained unscathed and protected: Kyiv had never felt so exposed. Zelenskyy ordered a commensurate response; Ukrainian retaliation can be painful and sends a strong message, but yesterday, when the drone struck the centre of Kyiv, Moscow also sent a signal. This was nothing new – Moscow has always reiterated its refusal to negotiate – but never before had it been so brazen as to do so whilst the Americans were about to embark on their tour to relaunch negotiations, intending to make a first stop today in the Russian capital and a second tomorrow, in the Ukrainian capital, where Witkoff and Kushner have never been, despite fleeting promises that were subsequently scuppered by pressure from Putin: the two have not visited Moscow since January, and on their last visit they had pledged to stop off in Kyiv as well, to report in person to Zelensky on the outcome of their talks with Putin. They left Russia and headed straight for the United States, just as the Kremlin leader had told them to do. They obeyed.

A drone striking the security services’ headquarters the day before the talks is neither a peaceful gesture nor a sign of respect towards the Americans, who had repeatedly attempted to return to Moscow in recent months, only to receive constant refusals from the Russians and even a few warnings along the lines of: ‘Come back when you have some new proposals.’ Today’s trip has little substance; sometimes in diplomacy, one takes action simply to appear active, and visits are accepted to give the impression of being in the mood to do something. This activity masks the most sinister intentions, which, by contrast, a drone in the very centre of Kyiv reveals without any pretence. How one of the capital’s main roads came to be struck in the early afternoon is the question tormenting the people of Kyiv as they try to get on with their lives in the face of constantly renewed threats. Drones were not a problem for air defences until Moscow began deploying jet-powered drones – faster and more powerful, and difficult to intercept. The capital feels defenceless; it is struggling with this feeling whilst awaiting solutions, including from its allies.

Yesterday, U.S. President Donald Trump posted a Washington Post article on Truth, quoting its headline: “This is how Trump can help Ukraine build its own Patriot missiles”. The piece, written by Marc A. Thiessen, explains how there would be many advantages for the Americans in allowing Kyiv to co-produce technologically inferior interceptor missiles such as the PAC-2, whilst keeping the more advanced PAC-3 technology under wraps. Trump’s post could be a nod of approval, a message to the Russians on the eve of the talks, or a moment of self-congratulation – but it at least shows that the White House chief is aware of the Ukrainians’ lack of defences. What he may not be giving careful consideration to, however, is the pace of Russian production.

The Kyiv Independent has calculated that, up to 27 August 2026 alone, Moscow had launched 1,858 missiles of various types. And over the course of the year, it began to diversify its production. Not every month is the same; launches reach peaks, then subside, then rise again, but in terms of production, Russian factories have often exceeded the targets they had set themselves. For example: production of the Iskander, set at 60 per month, reached 65 in July; the Kh-101s, which had a monthly target of 72, are at 87; the Kalibrs, set at 26, are at 29 per month. Some production lines have been suspended: mass production of the Kinzhal has been halted because the fuel and other resources needed to manufacture them have been diverted to other ballistic missiles. Moscow sees Ukraine’s vulnerability and is not letting its arms industry rest – it is all about producing, moving materials and implementing on a large scale, relying on a large workforce that does not complain – in some cases students – and on a part of the territory that is still beyond the reach of Kyiv’s drones and missiles. The pace of production, like the drone over the centre of Kyiv on the day Witkoff and Kushner set off on their journey, is not a sign that Russia is determined to talk about peace.