Russia’s recent actions—sending drones into NATO airspace and violating Estonia’s skies—signal a new escalation in its long-term hybrid war against Europe. Following the failed Trump-Putin summit in Alaska, Moscow appears determined to raise tensions, convinced that Europe, without American backing, lacks both the political unity and military readiness to respond effectively.
For the Kremlin, Washington’s reluctance to deepen its involvement in European affairs presents a strategic window. By pressuring European states through low-cost but high-impact hybrid tactics, Russia hopes to force concessions on the Ukraine war and reassert itself as a global power on par with the US and China.
The Alaska meeting, however, delivered an opposite message: neither Washington nor Brussels is prepared to offer Moscow special recognition or status without tangible restraint on its aggressive behavior. For President Vladimir Putin, this was a political setback. The Kremlin thrives on projecting him as the leader who restored Russia’s lost international prestige. Denied such recognition, Moscow has reverted to an older narrative—that the West is weakening and that a historic opportunity exists to undermine the liberal international order and reshape it on Russian terms.
By provoking NATO, Russia is pursuing several goals. First, it is testing the alliance’s resolve and its threshold for response. Moscow wants to see at what point hybrid pressure could trigger a concrete military reaction. Second, it aims to weaken NATO’s credibility both among Europeans and globally by portraying the alliance as unable to defend the continent. Third, by deploying cheap drones, Russia seeks to drain NATO’s costly missile reserves—forcing European states to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars per interception against drones worth a fraction of that price. Europe’s limited missile stocks make this a dangerous asymmetry.
At the same time, Russia is working to deepen divisions within NATO, knowing that any collective response requires consensus—a rare commodity among members wary of direct confrontation. Moscow’s hybrid campaign also extends beyond the battlefield: through financial and political backing for far-right movements, election interference from France to Moldova, and destabilizing maneuvers in Georgia and the Western Balkans.
Ultimately, Russia’s hybrid war exploits Europe’s democratic vulnerabilities but carries its own risks. As the Ukraine invasion already showed, closed political systems with limited information flows often miscalculate. The Kremlin’s dangerous game could yet turn against itself.
