Ukraine is changing its military leadership, Russia may have to do the same

Oleksandr Syrskyi is stepping down as commander-in-chief of the Ukrainian Armed Forces, to be replaced by 43-year-old General Mykhailo Drapatyi. President Volodymyr Zelenskyy presented the decision as a modernization of the command structure and preparation for a new defense strategy, but the political context is impossible to ignore: the dismissal came after several days of protests triggered by the removal of Defense Minister Mykhailo Fedorov. The sequence of events suggests an attempt by the government to contain a crisis that was beginning to spiral out of control.

In a country under martial law, with no elections and an increasingly restricted political arena, thousands of people took to the streets of Kyiv and other cities for days. They demanded Fedorov’s reinstatement and Syrskyi’s removal, with parts of the military and the public seeing the general as the embodiment of a rigid command culture that is far too costly in human lives. A poll reported by Reuters found that 61% of respondents opposed Fedorov’s dismissal. This is not a general revolt against Zelenskyy, but it is a warning that the wartime consensus can no longer be taken for granted.

Fedorov spent only six months as defense minister, but in that brief period he became a symbol of the technological transformation of Ukrainian warfare. His conflict with Syrskyi burst into the open after the former minister accused the commander-in-chief of obstructing his initiatives, "stirring up intrigue" and sabotaging reform. Zelenskyy initially sided with Syrskyi and removed Fedorov, only for the public backlash to force him, several days later, to dismiss the general he had chosen to support.

Zelenskyy has therefore given the protesters half of what they demanded. Syrskyi is gone, but Fedorov has not been reinstated as defense minister. Instead, he has been offered another senior position connected to the country’s technological capabilities, while Yevhenii Khmara is serving as acting defense minister. Fedorov had previously said that he was interested only in returning to his former post and has so far declined the alternative offer. Zelenskyy has, in other words, bought himself time without addressing the underlying cause of the unrest.

Drapatyi is a carefully chosen response to this situation. He is not a civilian technocrat like Fedorov, but neither does he represent a continuation of the old command model associated with Syrskyi. He has served in the military for 26 years and has combat experience dating back to 2014. He commanded the Ground Forces and played a role in stabilizing the front near Kharkiv in 2024. When at least 12 soldiers were killed in a Russian strike on a Ukrainian training center in 2025, he offered his resignation and accepted personal responsibility—a rare gesture in any large military institution.

For Moscow, it would naturally be tempting to interpret these developments as evidence that the Ukrainian system is coming apart. The dismissal of a commander-in-chief in the middle of a war, an open confrontation between a minister and a general, and street protests against a presidential decision undoubtedly point to serious problems. Any change at the top brings a period of adjustment, personnel reshuffling and competition for influence. The Russian military will try to exploit that moment by increasing pressure on vulnerable sectors of the front.

Yet any premature Russian celebration would be misplaced. Drapatyi may prove a more capable opponent than Syrskyi precisely because he is attempting to combine the experience of a conventional commander with the technological culture promoted by Fedorov. The new commander has announced plans to intensify counteroffensive operations, expand missions inside Russia, accelerate technological development and reform mobilization. Zelenskyy has made it clear that the medium- and long-range weapons program must continue without interruption.

Nor should Syrskyi be reduced to a caricature of an incompetent general. He played an important role in the defense of Kyiv, Ukraine’s 2022 breakthrough near Kharkiv and the operation in Russia’s Kursk region. On his departure, he claimed that he was handing over an army that not only defends but also attacks, and that it had retaken around 700 square kilometers of territory in 2026. That is Syrskyi’s own assessment rather than an independently verified figure, but it shows that his dismissal was not the result of some catastrophic military collapse. More decisive were the loss of confidence in his leadership and the perception that the army was paying too high a price in manpower.

And it is precisely manpower that remains the weakness no app or drone swarm can fully compensate for. Ukraine can develop inexpensive systems, connect sensors and firing units more efficiently, and strike targets far behind the front, but it still has to hold a battle line more than a thousand kilometers long. Fedorov’s vision is powerful, but it also has limitations that its most enthusiastic supporters are reluctant to acknowledge.

The pressure on Russia, meanwhile, continues. Ukrainian strikes on energy and logistics infrastructure have become an almost daily occurrence, while the latest major attack on Moscow involved more than 400 drones, according to Russian officials. Most were intercepted, but ten people were injured, buildings and civilian infrastructure were damaged, and fires were reported south of the capital.

This does not mean that Russia’s air defenses have collapsed. Defending the world’s largest country against hundreds of small targets flying at low altitude is fundamentally a problem of geography, economics and saturation. No collection of air-defense batteries around Moscow can protect every critical site at once. Ukraine is counting on precisely that unfavorable equation: using relatively cheap weapons to force Russia to expend costly interceptors and spread its defenses across an immense area.

Geography, however, is no excuse for moving too slowly. If Moscow wants to preserve its advantage in the war, it must accelerate the construction of a multilayered and less expensive counter-drone network. It is not enough to shoot down most incoming aircraft if the few that get through continue to strike facilities whose loss has consequences far beyond the immediate site. As we have repeatedly noted, in a technological war the interception rate may look impressive while the strategic outcome remains unfavorable.

Russia should therefore draw a lesson from the Ukrainian reshuffle. Kyiv made the change under pressure from the streets and amid an internal power struggle, which is hardly an ideal model, but its very willingness to change demonstrates that the Ukrainian system is still searching for ways to adapt. Moscow must likewise assess whether its commanders, industrial structures and rear-defense services are keeping pace with technological developments. Wars are not won by preserving hierarchy for hierarchy’s sake, but by converting Russia’s larger resource base into genuine superiority.

By appointing Drapatyi, Zelenskyy has eased the immediate pressure, but the political crisis is not over. Fedorov remains outside the Defense Ministry, his supporters have learned that street pressure can force the president to retreat, and the new commander must quickly prove that the change is more than a personnel reshuffle for show. Should results fail to materialize, the same energy that brought down Syrskyi could soon turn against the presidential office itself.

For Russia, a brief window of opportunity has opened, along with a more serious long-term challenge. The Ukrainian government has revealed its internal weakness, but it has also placed at the head of its armed forces a man who may be better able to combine drones, deep strikes and conventional operations. Russia still possesses the stronger strategic foundation and greater capacity for a prolonged war, but that advantage will not assert itself automatically. Victory will go to the side best able to combine mass, industry, technology, discipline and political endurance. Moscow should therefore view the upheaval in Kyiv with a clear head—as evidence of a Ukrainian crisis, but not as a guarantee of Russian victory.