Ukraine’s drone campaign against Russian oil infrastructure on the Gulf of Finland has entered a new and exceptionally intense phase. According to Finnish Prime Minister Petteri Orpo, Ukraine has used more than 2,500 drones against Russian oil ports in the area in recent weeks. The main targets have been Ust-Luga and Primorsk, key export hubs for Russian crude oil and fuel. Even temporary disruptions there translate into tangible losses for Russia’s war economy.

The consequences of these attacks have been serious. After a series of strikes, operations at Russian Baltic oil ports were suspended, and parts of the infrastructure were damaged. Ust-Luga alone was attacked five times within ten days, and according to industry sources and analysts, the disruptions affected a significant share of Russia’s export capacity. Ukraine is targeting refineries, transshipment terminals, and pipelines, that is, the very infrastructure that directly feeds the Russian budget with revenue from energy exports.

The attacks have also affected civil aviation. Restrictions were repeatedly imposed on air traffic in the St. Petersburg area, and Pulkovo Airport was temporarily closed. As recently as April 5, some international flights had to be rerouted over Finland following another Ukrainian strike near Primorsk. This shows that long-range drone warfare is increasingly influencing not only military and industrial targets, but also the everyday functioning of civilian transport in northeastern Europe.

The most politically sensitive side effect, however, has been the incidents on the Finnish side of the border. At least two Ukrainian drones reportedly strayed off course and crashed in southeastern Finland; one of them was said to be carrying an unexploded warhead. Finnish media later reported a third military drone crashing in the region within a matter of days. It was the first time the Russian-Ukrainian war had affected Finnish territory in such a direct and visible way.

The incidents triggered debate in Helsinki over the state’s response. Finnish authorities did not issue a public alert to residents at the time, later explaining that they had not seen an immediate threat to civilians and considered securing the area sufficient. That decision was criticized and compared unfavorably with Estonia, which in similar situations had sent warning text messages to citizens. Finland is now working on an air-threat alert system modeled in part on Ukrainian solutions.

Ukraine itself apologized to Finland for the incidents and stressed that the drones had not been intended to enter the territory of a NATO member state. Kyiv argued that the aircraft most likely veered off course because of Russian electronic jamming. That explanation may help reduce diplomatic tension, but it does not remove the underlying problem: the more often Ukraine strikes Russian ports, refineries, and export nodes near NATO borders, the greater the risk that individual drones or their debris will once again fall on the wrong side of the frontier.

In a broader sense, this campaign shows just how much the logic of the war is changing. Ukraine is no longer limiting itself to attacks on rear areas directly supporting the front. It is increasingly striking infrastructure on which Russian energy-export revenues depend. This strategy is costly for Moscow, but it also carries the risk of the conflict spilling over regionally. Today, the Gulf of Finland is not only a trade route and a vital security zone for the Nordic states, but also one of the most sensitive flashpoints in a war being fought hundreds of kilometers away from the main front lines.