Even disguised by the multiple world events, the technological difference between Ukraine and Russia is noted. And its root is not so much in the number of weapons, soldiers or tanks, but in something much more silent and decisive: access to artificial intelligence (AI). In recent weeks, a series of surgical attacks from Ukraine against Russian refineries unleashed an unprecedented internal fuel crisis. It is estimated that up to 20% of the total Russian refining capacity was temporarily eliminated or disabled, affecting key facilities such as Krasnodar and Syzran, which directly feed the army.

The attacks were not improvised or simple rocket releases. They were carried out by FP-1 drones, made of mass by Ukraine, which fly more than 1,500 kilometers carrying between 60 and 120 kilos of explosives and impact surgical precision, even crossing electronic defense belts designed to neutralize them. For this they use advanced navigation software, dynamic trajectory correction and autonomous targeting that, even if it does not tell it openly, is based on AI.

This level of precision and autonomy is not achieved with basic sensors. It is achieved with access to powerful chips, training in hostile environments, mass simulation and patterns learning. All this requires modern hardware and development environments that Russia, due to sanctions, cannot replicate or buy. Russian weapons dismantled on the battlefield show again and again the western chip dependence acquired by gray channels, and technical patches do not reach to support a war architecture based on AI.

Instead, Ukraine has the support of the United States and the technological infrastructure of the West, and with it advances towards a war dominated by data, prediction and autonomous execution. In the last attacks, drone software demonstrated the ability to navigate areas of intense interference, identify critical points in refineries, avoid defenses and coordinate with other units in real time, such as a swarm that thinks for itself. This is the direct, concrete and lethal application of AI on the battlefield: a machine that decides how and where to destroy with the least possible human intervention.

That gap just begins, but its consequences are already seen. The increase in the price of fuel in Russia (54% so far this year), rationing in some regions, long lines to load gasoline and the suspension of exports are a sample of what a technological difference can cause without the need for a single land incursion. Cheap and self -employed drones achieve what thousands of soldiers could not: paralyze critical sectors of Russian internal functioning. This trend will be accentuated the longer the war is prolonged, and the technological superiority of Ukraine will be more evident and, with it, the difference between having access to AI or not having it.

Putin knows. That is why it does not accelerate the land offensive: because it cannot. The combination of lack of personnel, logistics wear, sanctions and technological limitations forces it to concentrate its offensive capacity in bombings to civil objectives. It is not a strategic decision, it is a confession of operational disability. What was previously offensive is destructive theater, directed to the Russian internal front and the narrative. But that does not change reality: Russia can no longer recover the initiative and the margin of action is reduced every day that passes.

The Trump administration, currently in power, perfectly comprises this scenario. And here the true geopolitical dilemma begins. If Russia shows military weakness, if the threat that justifies European arms expenditure vanishes, then the US defense industry will face a new problem: the European dairy cow will run out of political justification.

Trump’s foreign policy turned Europe, Japan, South Korea and Australia into large American weapons importers. They were openly treated as customers, not as allies, under the logic of “protection in exchange for purchase.” The fear of Russia allowed to justify these purchases, expand NATO, demand contributions of 5% of GDP in defense and turn Germany, Poland, Baltic and Scandinavia countries in areas of sustained demand. But if Russia loses visibly, if your attacks become less effective, if Ukraine dislocates her logistics with cheap drones and flight autonomy, then the threat speech is disarmed. And with him, justification is also falling to sustaining these budgets. In Europe, societies retain their welfare status and every euro destined for weapons is seen as a direct threat to their health systems, pensions or subsidies. As soon as the threat disappears from the media radar, purchases will fall.

Washington sees that risk. That is why two possible strategies appear. The first is the most subtle: look for an agreement in Ukraine before the technological difference becomes too visible. Ensure a negotiation to close the conflict without showing too much that Russia was left behind. That strategy partly explains why Zelensky hardens its position instead of making it more flexible. While his allies face political crises, recessions and changes in internal priorities, the Ukrainian president maintains a hard line. He refuses to negotiate in Moscow, even while rumors on fractures grow in the Western alliance. This would seem contradictory, but it has logic if it is understood that Washington still needs the conflict to be perceived as irres, as balanced, as a long breath war. Because showing now that Russia falls apart would open its eyes to many European, Japanese, South Korean or Australian voters who would say: “Then there is no reason to spend in arms.”

And it is not just external calculation: Zelensky’s position is strengthened by the recent success of drone attacks. He knows that it caused concrete and measurable damage to the Russian supply capacity. For the first time he imagines a scenario in which he does not give up territories but recovers them, and that optimism makes him believe that he should wait. It is no longer only pressure from the West. It is internal decision: if the war favors it, there is no trouble for closing anything.

The second strategy is the hardest and perhaps the most realistic in the medium term: assume that the war will continue and that the difference of AI will become evident, but use that to redesign the technological relationship with its allies. If AI becomes the key to military and economic power, then the United States will not allow Europe, Japan, South Korea or Australia to have completely independent. Not because it distrusts them, but because the global security architecture will be based on controlling access to that tool. And the argument is already ready: prevent chips or models from ending up in Chinese hands. With this pretext the direct export of certain architectures will be progressively blocked, the purchase of advanced hardware without conditions will be difficult and a new model will be proposed: the “Caño”.

This model consists of providing access to AI as a service, regulated, monitored and tariffs by the United States. Europe can use it, but not possess it. You can run your models, but not design them freely. The analogy is clear: as the Russian gas before 2022, which was delivered by pipes with contracts controlled by Moscow, the AI ​​will now flow through digital channels from Silicon Valley and Arizona, under strict licenses and norms. Any European attempt to become independent will find warnings about safety risks, Chinese espionage potential or the technical impossibility of sustaining without their own help in their own training training infrastructure. Thus, the United States replaces the old NATO model (weapons in exchange for protection) with a new one: AI in exchange for technological dependence.

For the common citizen, all this is invisible. It will use chatgpt, advanced medical services, smart cars and productivity tools without knowing if they come from an own data center or a controlled pipe from Texas. But for governments and industrial elites, the dilemma will be evident: either align with the United States and accept regulations, or try digital independence that will be extremely expensive and geopolitically risky.

The Ukrainian advance with AI forces the United States to reformulate their dominance over allies that will stop needing it as a arms supplier. The conflict, far from closing, pushes a total reconfiguration of technological alliances. The future will be played in chips, models and digital flows. The current war will be remembered as the moment when the control of AI became true power. The United States knows and designs the valves of the pipe.

Things as they are.

Mookie Tenembaum addresses technology issues like this every week with Claudio Zuchovicki in his podcast artificial intelligence, financial perspectives, available in Spotify, Apple, YouTube and all platforms.

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