For much of the war, Mariupol has symbolized both Russia’s brutality and Ukraine’s resistance. The southern port city was reduced to ruins during Russia’s siege in 2022. Tens of thousands are believed to have died.

Satellite imagery later revealed mass graves sprawling outside the city. Among the Ukrainian units that fought there was Azov, whose last stand inside the Azovstal steel plant became one of the defining images of the invasion.

Now Azov has returned to Mariupol, at least from the air.

On May 8, Ukraine’s 1st Azov Corps released footage showing reconnaissance and strike drones flying over the occupied city. The videos showed roads, industrial sites and military facilities used by Russian forces. Azov fighters described the operation as a “patrol” over their hometown. “For now, from the air,” the unit wrote on social media. “But there is more to come.”

Mariupol has now spent nearly four years under Russian occupation. Moscow has tried to militarize the city and reshape it demographically, building new apartment blocks while encouraging Russians to settle there.

“Beyond the battlefield, this war has been, in many ways, about the fight for historical narratives,” said John Vsetecka, an assistant professor of history at Nova Southeastern University. Ukrainian drones over Mariupol challenge the Kremlin’s claim that occupied territory has been permanently absorbed into Russia.

Shaun Pinner, a British fighter captured during the battle for Mariupol and later freed, said Azov’s return to the skies over the city carries both symbolic and military weight.

“Mariupol is not just another occupied city. It was our home,” Pinner said. “It became the centerpiece of Russia’s entire narrative surrounding the war, and Azov itself became central to the Kremlin’s absurd attempt to define an entire nation as ‘Nazi,’ which was always complete garbage.”

He said the drone flights also disrupt Russia’s attempt to make occupation appear normal and permanent.

“The Kremlin wants occupation to appear permanent and stable, but it’s far from that,” Pinner said. “Explosions, drone activity and visible military insecurity damage that image, both for Russian domestic audiences and collaborators inside occupied areas. It gives those waiting for our return hope.”

Mariupol sits at the center of Russia’s southern logistics corridor linking occupied Donbas to Crimea. Since 2022, Russia has invested heavily in roads, rail links and infrastructure around the Azov coast in an effort to reduce dependence on the vulnerable Kerch Bridge. Supplies, fuel and troops increasingly move through this land corridor.

Ukraine is now trying to make that corridor unsafe. “There is no safe rear area for the occupiers,” wrote Azov. “There is nowhere to hide and no way to protect themselves.” Azov says its drones are operating as far as 160km (100 miles) behind the front line, adding that strike depths will increase.

Russian military bloggers have noticed. Romanov, a pro-war commentator, warned that Ukrainian forces were now striking logistics routes with drones operating through Starlink and reaching up to 200 km. He added that Ukraine’s AI-enabled Hornet drones “can be seen flying unimpeded over the Mariupol section of the R-150 highway, searching for targets to engage, primarily fuel tankers and other military vehicles.”

“Within six months to a year, we will very likely encounter fully automated Hornets or other drones that won’t be jammed with EW,” wrote Romanov. “The drone will simply fly into a specific area and then circle around until it selects a target, which the neural network prioritizes.”

Large mechanized assaults have become rarer. Control of the battlefield is increasingly determined by which side can disrupt logistics and command networks farther behind it.

Dimko Zhluktenko of Ukraine’s 413th Unmanned Systems Regiment says the recent success of Ukraine’s mid-range strike campaign is not only about the drones themselves. Ukraine has accumulated large numbers of loitering munitions, but the launch crews, pilots and mission planners have also improved. Together, he argues, they are contributing to a wider effort to degrade Russia’s economic, industrial and military capacity.

Dmytro Kavun of Dignitas Ukraine says the tempo of such strikes has accelerated because several trends have converged at once. Ukraine is scaling drone production dramatically, potentially reaching seven million drones this year.

Communications networks linking drones to operators have improved, while Ukrainian strikes have steadily degraded Russian air defenses in occupied territory, opening corridors for deeper attacks. Kavun added that the most important targets lie in what Ukrainian planners increasingly view as the “mid-range” zone, roughly 30-300 km behind the front. This is where Russia stores ammunition, fuel and reserves, while also concentrating the roads and railways that sustain frontline operations.

Andrii Pelypenko of Ukraine’s 419th Battalion of Unmanned Systems says years were spent designing, testing and manufacturing systems while Russian strikes repeatedly targeted Ukrainian infrastructure and industry.

Now, he argues, some Ukrainian drone models have matured enough to secure large state contracts, potentially allowing production to scale further. Domestic production also gives Kyiv greater operational freedom. Western-supplied systems often come with restrictions on how and where they may be used, especially for strikes deep inside Russia. Ukrainian-built drones do not.

George Barros of the Institute for the Study of War said Ukraine’s operational thinking is maturing. Rather than merely reacting to Russian infantry assaults along the front line, Ukrainian brigades are increasingly trying to strike the “operational machinery” that enables those assaults in the first place.

That has led to a sharp increase in mid-range strikes, around 30-120 km behind the front, aimed at disrupting logistics, staging areas and command infrastructure.

According to Barros, Ukraine is increasingly using drones to create localized “kill zones” extending 20-30 km deep, with the longer-term goal of expanding them to 45-50 km. If Russian forward operating bases and logistics corridors are pushed farther from the line, he argues, Moscow’s current infiltration-heavy tactics become much harder to sustain.

Lev Pashko, known by the callsign “Horus,” commands the 6th Special Purpose Battalion, which is associated with Azov’s 12th Special Forces Brigade and now operates within the broader 1st Azov Corps structure. He argues that battlefield innovation now matters as much as manpower. “Those that adapt faster to changing battlefield dynamics will prevail,” he said.

“The enemy mobilized its modest resources,” wrote the Russian pro-war blogger Alexander Karchenko. “It switched to drone technology and is striving with all its might toward a robot war. Well, that’s when we’ll have to trade a living human for a flying machine.”

The effect goes far beyond the battlefield. Maria Popova, an associate professor of political science at McGill University, says Russia has long relied on the assumption that it is militarily stronger and would eventually win in Ukraine, slowly but inexorably. That narrative, she argues, is becoming harder for the Kremlin to sustain as Ukraine’s recent successes suggest that Russia’s theory of victory may be weaker than it once appeared.

The battle for Mariupol once symbolized Ukraine’s survival. Its skies now suggest how the war is changing. Occupation no longer guarantees sanctuary. Rear areas are no longer truly rearward. And Russia’s theory of slow, inevitable victory is becoming harder to sustain.

David Kirichenko

Efrem Lukatsky (AP), AP File Photo, Dmytro Kozatski and Oleksandr Popenko (via Shutterstock)

Republished with the permission of David Kirichenko