As President Putin prepared to address the world’s elite at the St Petersburg International Economic Forum, a different kind of message arrived from the skies. Ukrainian drones struck the very city Peter the Great built as Russia’s window to the West. The symbolism is as devastating as the explosions.
One cannot help but recall Gibbon’s observation on the late Roman empire: ‘the impotence of the prince, the venality of the court, and the licentiousness of the army.’ Except here, the impotence is technological. For all the billions poured into air defence and the fetishisation of modern warfare, the Kremlin cannot protect its imperial capital from a swarm of consumer-grade UAVs.
This is not merely a military embarrassment. It is a geopolitical metaphor. Putin’s forum was meant to signal resilience, to show that the West’s sanctions had failed and that Russia’s economy was pivoting eastward.
Instead, the world witnessed a haunted emperor hosting a banquet while his roof is on fire. The response from the Russian elite will be predictable: a mixture of bravado and paranoia. But the damage is done.
The message to foreign investors, if any were still listening, is clear: your capital is not safe here. Meanwhile, Western leaders watching this from afar will realise what many historians already know: empires in decline often lash out with spectacular aggression, but they cannot control the periphery. Ukraine has shown it can reach the heart of the Russian state.
This is an escalation, yes. But it is also an admission. The war has come home.
And St Petersburg, that beautiful, decadent monument to Russian ambition, now stands as a reminder that no amount of pomp can shield a crumbling regime from the consequences of its own hubris.
