For years, the St Petersburg International Economic Forum was a stage for Russia to project strength and stability. This year, the stage was pierced by the hum of drones. The attacks, which struck the city in the early hours, were a jarring reminder that the war in Ukraine is no longer a distant conflict. It is a home front crisis.
The symbolism is hard to miss. St Petersburg, Putin’s birthplace and the jewel of Russian culture, was meant to be a fortress of normalcy. Instead, the whirring engines of unmanned aircraft brought the front line to the Neva. Residents, used to the theatre of patriotic rallies and sanctioned luxury, now face the reality of air raid sirens and debris. The economic forum, a gathering of oligarchs and officials, became a backdrop for vulnerability.
This is not just a military incident. It is a cultural shift. For months, Moscow and St Petersburg have been islands of relative peace, insulated from the horrors of Bucha or Bakhmut. The drone attacks shatter that illusion. Social media footage shows panicked crowds dispersing from the convention centre, a stark contrast to the carefully curated images of prosperity. The human cost is not just physical. It is psychological.
Class dynamics play a role here. The wealthy elite, who have largely escaped the war’s consequences, now face the same anxiety as the working class. The divide between “us” and “them” collapses when drones fly overhead. The government’s narrative of a special military operation far away is harder to sell when the explosions are heard in the city’s historic centre.
The timing is deliberate. The attacks coincided with the forum’s opening day, a clear message that Russia’s economic ambitions cannot be separated from its military aggression. For the average Russian, the question shifts from “when will this war end?” to “where will the next drone strike land?”. The streets of St Petersburg, once a symbol of imperial grandeur, now carry the scent of anxiety.
Culture and society editors often look for the human element. Here it is in the faces of the delegates, the hotel staff, the taxi drivers. They are all part of a nation coming to terms with the reality that the war is not a TV broadcast. It is a drone in the sky.
