When Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky stepped onto a lilac carpet in Saudi Arabia in March, the optics were striking. Here was a leader still grappling with Russia's invasion of his country, taking time to visit the Gulf and publicly showcase Ukraine's battlefield-tested drone expertise to nations that had just absorbed Iranian missile and drone attacks.
The connection was deliberate, and it reflected a geopolitical realignment that nobody had predicted when the US and Israel went to war with Iran in late February 2026.
From Crisis to Opportunity
The immediate impact of the Iran conflict on Ukraine's position looked bleak. Russian oil revenues surged as tankers rerouted away from the Strait of Hormuz, a chokepoint bordered by Iran. Moscow could sell more oil to more countries at higher prices, filling a war chest that was running dangerously low. The Trump administration renewed waivers allowing countries to buy sanctioned Russian oil, citing spiralling global costs that threatened to stoke inflation across Western economies.
Yet Ukraine has spent four years confounding international expectations. And it confounded them again.
Zelensky arrived in the Gulf armed with something Russia and Iran could not offer: hard-won expertise in neutralising the very drones that Gulf states were now confronting. The Shahed-136 attack drones that Russia has been firing into Ukrainian cities by the thousands, and that Iran has been selling to proxies across the Middle East, cost between $80,000 and $130,000 per unit. Intercepting them, Zelensky pointed out, can cost as little as $10,000 with the right systems.
The proposition resonated. Ukraine signed drone and defence cooperation agreements with Saudi Arabia, the UAE and Qatar. The details remain closely held, but the direction is clear: Gulf states that previously looked to the US for military hardware and training are now looking to Kyiv.
The Defence Deals That Changed the Equation
The timing of these agreements matters. While the Iran war has been draining American military stockpiles and redirecting Washington's attention, European support for Ukraine has also been deepening in ways that would have seemed implausible three years ago.
In April, Ukraine signed a defence cooperation agreement with Norway worth $8.6 billion as part of a broader $28 billion support package running to 2030. It signed a separate deal with Germany valued at $4.7 billion, covering various types of drones, missiles, software and modern defence systems. These are not small commitments. They represent a structural shift in how Europe is choosing to arm Ukraine, independent of whatever signals Washington sends.
The US has signalled it is redirecting military hardware from European stockpiles to the Middle East. When asked about supplying Ukraine from existing inventory, Trump told reporters: "We do that all the time. Sometimes we take from one, and we use for another." That answer may be technically accurate, but it does not reassure European allies who have spent years building the kind of air defence architecture that Ukraine desperately needs.
Zelensky has made no secret of what he wants. In an interview with French newspaper Le Monde, he said Ukraine would welcome Middle Eastern air defence missiles that Europe could redirect. "We would like Middle Eastern states to also give us an opportunity to strengthen ourselves," he said. "They have certain air defence missiles of which we don't have enough. That's what we'd like to reach a deal on."
Russia's Energy Infrastructure Becomes a Target
Ukraine has also drawn a direct lesson from watching how the Iran conflict has disrupted global energy markets: it has turned Russia's own energy export infrastructure into a priority target.
Using domestically manufactured long-range drones, Ukrainian forces have been striking Russian oil facilities with increasing frequency and precision. Zelensky says the losses Russia is absorbing in its energy sector are running to billions of dollars, despite the temporary boost in revenues from higher oil prices. The question is whether that revenue surge is sustainable, and whether it will translate into anything resembling the kind of prolonged war-fighting capacity Moscow needs.
Crude oil export data suggests the revenue boost was real but concentrated. Russian energy revenues hit 2.3 times their December-to-February average during the third week of the Iran war. That was a temporary window created by panic buying and rerouting costs. As markets adjusted and new supply routes stabilised, the uplift began to fade.
Meanwhile, the pressure on Putin is building from a different direction. Trump said following a conversation with the Russian president that he was confident a solution over Ukraine could be reached "relatively quickly." He added, pointedly, that "some people" had made it difficult for Putin to make a deal. The implication was clear: Trump believes Zelensky is the obstacle.
The Nato Rift Widens
That message landed in the middle of a separate transatlantic crisis. The US announced it would withdraw 5,000 troops from Germany, with Trump suggesting further reductions were coming. Germany's defence minister, Boris Pistorius, called the move foreseeable. Nato said it was seeking clarification from Washington.
Poland's prime minister, Donald Tusk, was blunt. "The greatest threat to the transatlantic community are not its external enemies," he said, "but the ongoing disintegration of our alliance." Two senior Republican lawmakers, Senator Roger Wicker and Representative Mike Rogers, who chair the Senate and House armed services committees respectively, said they were "very concerned" by the withdrawal decision. They argued it was in America's interest to maintain a strong deterrent in Europe.
Trump's rationale appeared connected to his frustration with European defence spending, but also to his broader grievances about the Iran war. He criticised German Chancellor Friedrich Merz for suggesting the US had been humiliated by Iranian negotiators. The withdrawal, in Trump's framing, was partly a message.
What does this mean for Ukraine's path to any kind of negotiated settlement? The short answer is that it is complicated. A US withdrawal from Germany does not directly affect the battlefield situation in Ukraine. But it changes the ambient pressure on European allies to step up, and it changes the leverage that Kyiv can exercise when it sits across the table from Moscow.
Ukraine's defence deals with Norway and Germany are real. The Gulf partnerships are real. The drone technology and the targeting of Russian energy infrastructure are real. These are not the actions of a country that is preparing to accept a bad peace. They are the actions of a country that believes it is entering the strongest negotiating window it has had since 2022.
Whether that belief is justified depends on whether the momentum can be sustained, whether European defence production can keep pace with the promises being made, and whether Trump genuinely pushes Putin toward a ceasefire or simply declares one and expects Europe to fall into line.
The next few months will settle that question.