Gas stations in Rostov-on-Don ran dry last week. In Krasnodar, drivers waited three hours for a tank of petrol that never came. This isn't a glitch. It's the sound of Ukrainian drones and missiles rewiring Russia's energy grid — and the Kremlin is learning a hard lesson about fighting a war with a leaky fuel tank.
For months, Ukraine has been targeting Russian oil refineries, storage depots, and pipeline nodes with increasing precision. The results are now hitting the streets. Russia's domestic fuel supply is crimped, prices are climbing, and the government is scrambling to patch holes it never planned for.
But here's the thing: none of this means Putin is going to dial down the war. If anything, the shortages might push him the other way.
The numbers don't lie
According to satellite imagery and intelligence reports cited by Western analysts, Ukraine has struck at least 15 major Russian energy facilities since early 2025. The attacks have knocked out an estimated 12% of Russia's refinery capacity and forced the shutdown of several key storage terminals. Combined with Western sanctions that have already crimped Russia's ability to export crude, the domestic pinch is real.
Russia's Energy Ministry recently admitted that gasoline reserves had fallen to a five-year low. Retail prices for petrol have jumped 18% year-on-year in some regions. The government has imposed temporary export bans on gasoline and diesel, trying to keep what's left at home. But it's a stopgap, not a fix.
“Russia is experiencing a structural fuel deficit for the first time since the 1990s,” says Mikhail Krutikhin, an independent energy analyst based in Moscow. “The combination of sanctions, drone strikes, and chronic underinvestment in refineries has created a perfect storm.”
War comes first
You'd think a fuel crisis at home would force any leader to rethink an expensive foreign war. But this is Vladimir Putin. The man has built his entire political identity on the war in Ukraine. Backing down isn't an option — it's a threat to his regime.
Instead of reining in military spending, the Kremlin is doubling down. The 2025 federal budget allocates nearly 40% of all spending to defense and security. That's a record in modern Russian history. The state is pouring money into drone production, missile upgrades, and troop payments. Fuel for civilian cars comes second.
The prioritization is brutal but logical. Putin knows that losing in Ukraine would destabilize his government far more than a few empty gas pumps. So he's betting that Russians will grumble but endure — as they have for everything else.
The economic dominoes
Still, the fuel crunch isn't just an inconvenience. It's an economic drag with teeth. Agriculture, transportation, and manufacturing all rely on diesel and gasoline. Rising fuel costs are feeding into food prices, which are already inflated by war-related grain disruptions. Inflation in Russia hit 9.2% in May, according to Rosstat, and shows no signs of cooling.
The Central Bank has hiked interest rates to 18%, trying to tame the beast. That only makes borrowing more expensive for businesses, slowing investment further. It's a spiral: sanctions reduce export revenue, drone strikes reduce refining, shortages drive up costs, and higher rates choke the economy. Meanwhile, the war machine keeps consuming resources at a staggering rate.
Russia's finance ministry recently projected a budget deficit of 2.1 trillion rubles for 2025 — roughly $23 billion at current exchange rates. That's manageable for now, thanks to high oil prices and continued gas exports to China and India. But it's a hole that keeps getting deeper.
Can Ukraine keep it up?
The effectiveness of Ukraine's energy campaign depends on its ability to sustain long-range strikes. That requires drones, missiles, and — critically — intelligence from Western partners. The US and UK have provided targeting data and equipment, but there are limits. Washington has been careful not to directly enable strikes deep inside Russia, fearing escalation.
Ukraine has also developed its own long-range drone capability, including the Lyutyi and Morok models, which can reach targets up to 1,000 kilometers away. But production is constrained by limited industrial capacity and constant Russian bombardment of Ukrainian factories.
Still, the strategy is working. Russia has been forced to move air defenses away from the front lines to protect energy infrastructure. That creates opportunities for Ukrainian forces elsewhere.
“Every drone that hits a refinery in Samara is a drone that didn't hit a power plant in Kharkiv,” says retired U.S. Army Colonel John Spencer. “Ukraine is learning to fight asymmetrically — and it's paying off.”
The long game
So where does this leave us? Russia's energy shortage is real, painful, and likely to get worse. But the idea that it will force a ceasefire is wishful thinking. Putin's calculus is simple: the war must continue until he can claim victory, define victory, or craft a settlement that doesn't look like a loss. Fuel shortages are a cost he's willing to absorb.
For ordinary Russians, the suffering is mounting. For Ukrainians, it's the same war, just with a new front. The energy war is now as central as the trench warfare in Donetsk. And like the trenches, it's going to be bloody, bitter, and long.
One thing's for sure: neither side is running out of resolve — or targets.
