Drone Strike Near Kadyrov’s Home Sparks Threats, But Zelenskyy Stands Firm

Paul Riverbank, 12/8/2025Drone strike rattles Chechnya; Zelenskyy defies threats, Ukraine endures relentless Russian assaults.
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On a recent night in Grozny, the kind of night that usually passes with little incident, the uneasy silence was broken. A drone, slicing through the darkness, exploded not far from the home of Ramzan Kadyrov, the figure whose grip over Chechnya is both infamous and fiercely loyal to Moscow. The blast — less than a kilometer from Kadyrov's residence — did more than shatter windows; it sent ripples well beyond Chechnya’s borders. Within hours, Kadyrov, never one to let silence speak for him, was on social media channeling something that felt a lot like vengeance. “Starting tomorrow and in the course of the week, the Ukrainian fascists will be feeling a stern response,” he wrote, his rhetoric bristling with the sort of threat familiar to those who remember his boasts about sending teams into Kyiv in search of President Zelenskyy.

Inside Ukraine, the mood has evolved. In early 2022, when Chechen units reportedly advanced toward the capital, President Zelenskyy’s aides took precautions that now seem as frantic as they were necessary — metro stations turned anxiety-filled shelters, defense teams scanning shadows for infiltrators. At the time, panic ran deep: Kyiv’s leadership had every reason to fear Chechen commandos might snake through tunnels and emerge in government bunkers. As it turned out, the feared assault never arrived; Kadyrov’s men, according to accounts from within the Ukrainian government, were stopped on the city’s outskirts.

Much has shifted since then. Now, Ukrainian officials — even when referencing credible threats, like the fresh ones from Kadyrov — sound more assured. “Zelenskyy is now better protected, feels more powerful and is less fragile,” a former official remarked to Fox News Digital. If in the first days of Russia’s full-scale attack, anxiety shaped every move, today a mixture of fatigue and hard-won confidence frames decisions in Kyiv.

But while intrigue simmered in Grozny, the war on the ground carried on with brutal regularity. Russian forces, unrelenting, peppered Ukraine overnight with more than two hundred drones and several missiles. The toll was felt from large industrial hubs like Kremenchuk to smaller towns — Fastiv, Novhorod-Siverskyi — with each strike peeling back another layer of civilian security. The damage was, as usual, most pronounced where it stung: power grids knocked offline, heating systems rendered useless, fires chased by exhausted emergency crews through the chill air of the Poltava region. A pair of fatalities added to the day’s grim tally; for most others, the misery was measured in cold nights and the absence of water.

French President Emmanuel Macron, along with leaders from across Europe, quickly denounced the bombardments. “We must continue to exert pressure on Russia to compel it to choose peace,” Macron announced, offering the right words but little practical relief for the millions whose realities have remained unchanged by diplomatic statements.

Kremenchuk bore the brunt of this latest barrage. Local authorities rushed to organize repairs before the next cold front rolled in; progress was inevitably slow, with the acting governor of Poltava, Volodymyr Kohut, admitting that heating and power would remain erratic for now. It’s a familiar script for anyone following the war’s homefront: every new attack prompts immediate repairs, yet rarely restores what was lost.

Against this daily grind, President Zelenskyy has taken to social media to amplify Ukraine’s needs. He’s direct, at times almost impatient. “The priority is clear: more air defense systems and missiles, and more support for our defenders,” he urged. There’s an undeniable frustration lying beneath those words — every new wave of drones only reinforces how critical new supplies truly are.

British intelligence put numbers to the crisis, revealing that Russia has, on average, unleashed 5,000 attack drones monthly since the autumn. Most are the inexpensive, mass-produced kind — effective not just because they hit infrastructure, but because they chip away at morale, forcing civilians to live in the permanent anticipation of the next blackout.

For all the headlines swirling around geopolitical threats — Kadyrov’s sabre-rattling, Moscow's unpredictable strategies — much of the war’s meaning is written in the unglamorous routines that follow every attack. Neighbors gather in unheated apartments, sharing blankets and updates. City workers scramble to restore electricity before sunset. People adapt, because they have no other choice.

One former Ukrainian official summed up the transformation they’ve witnessed: “These days, Zelenskyy isn’t afraid of Kadyrov's actions against him or the Ukrainian people. Zelenskyy is feeling very powerful right now.” The tone is assertive but sober: bravado has been replaced by resilience, and, despite it all, life carries on.

In this conflict, the battlefield stretches from the battered blocks of Ukraine’s towns to the guarded compounds of Grozny. Each day brings new threats both real and rhetorical, but the will to endure remains — bruised, certainly, but steadfast.