As the prolonged war between Russia and Ukraine enters yet another brutal winter phase, the energy dimension of the conflict has become its most insidious front. Beyond frontline fighting, both sides are locked in a deadly contest over infrastructure – oil refineries, gas pipelines, and power grids. For the privileged and powerful, this may be strategic. But for the most vulnerable – the poor, the elderly, the less privileged, and people with disabilities – it is a catastrophe in slow motion.
Russia’s recent campaign has brought home the harsh truth: energy has become a weapon. According to the International Energy Agency, attacks by Russia on Ukrainian energy infrastructure between 2022 and 2024 knocked out around half of Ukraine’s power-generation capacity and many district-heating systems.
This winter is shaping up to be the gravest yet. In October 2025 alone, Russia’s drone and missile strikes left whole towns without electricity, heat or water.
In the region of Chernihiv, for instance, hundreds of thousands were plunged into blackout after Russian strikes on power and water facilities.
A dialysis patient described the fear: ‘If there’s no treatment, I would die. I would not exist.’
The poor – they live in housing without backup generators, cannot afford fuel to power independent heating, and often are sidelined from priority repair of infrastructure. A blackout means food spoilage, frozen pipes, and no light or cooking stove.
The elderly – many are housebound, medically fragile, and dependent on electricity for heating, elevators, or lifeline equipment. When the grid fails, they face hypothermia, interrupted medications and isolation.
People with disabilities and chronic illnesses – they rely on continuous power supplies for safe living: oxygen machines, dialysis, ventilators. Interruptions become life-threatening.
Less-privileged communities – they are the last to receive repairs, the first to face displacement, and have the fewest options for coping (neighbours with extra homes, district heating alternatives, backup supply).
The war of energy is thus not an abstract strategy; it is a direct assault on human resilience and social equity. What is strategic for the combatants is existential for these populations.
The energy war has two arms: Russia’s destruction of Ukrainian infrastructure and Ukraine’s own counter-strikes on Russian refineries and oil-processing capacity. Both intensify the humanitarian fallout. For example, Russian attacks reduced Ukrainian gas production severely, and Ukraine expects to spend up to $1 billion more this winter on imported gas because the domestic supply was damaged.
Meanwhile, sanctions imposed by the EU, US and others on Russia’s oil industry aim to reduce Moscow’s revenue, but they also coincide with higher global energy prices, supply chain disruptions and an uncertain investment climate. These ripple outwards to those least able to absorb them: the poor in Ukraine and civilians in Russia’s border regions dependent on subsidised energy.
In short, the war and the sanctions both redirect risk and cost onto those with the least capacity to protect or adapt.
Taking human-centred protection of infrastructure into cognisance, the targeting of civilian energy systems violates international humanitarian norms.
Governments and international bodies must insist on safe zones for critical civilian infrastructure and rapid global funding for resilient backup systems (community generators, microgrids, and mobile heating units), especially in high-risk zones.
The world should prioritise assistance for the vulnerable. Aid must explicitly target elderly, disabled and poor households. Winter preparedness must include backup power, heating fuel, and easily accessible shelters with medical support. Blanket approaches leave those unable to migrate or access centralised services behind.
Taking energy diversification and resilience into reckoning. Ukraine’s experience shows how dangerous over-reliance on centralised gas or power becomes during war. Expanding small-scale renewables, district microgrids, community heating and decentralised systems would reduce vulnerability.
Considering dialogue and humanitarian corridors is most important. Even if active hostilities persist, humanitarian agreements to spare civilian energy infrastructure or establish cease-fires for heating seasons should be negotiated. Energy attacks are not only tactical but also deeply moral issues.
When the guns are finally silent, which I hope is very soon, rebuilding must prioritise employment and capacity for vulnerable groups. Retraining for infrastructure repair and inclusive social policy for disabled veterans and civilians will subsidise access to resilient power/heat for low-income households.
Global responsibility and solidarity. The energy war in Ukraine affects Europe’s energy security, too, according to the Atlantic Council. Therefore, international actors must fund not only military or state-level relief but also community-based resilience measures, particularly for the elderly, disabled and poor.
The Russia-Ukraine conflict may dominate headlines with tanks and missiles. Yet the real, silent battle is in the blackout house, the freezing hospital ward, and the displaced grandmother unable to heat her apartment. The energy war is more than a strategy; it is a humanitarian crisis.
For the poor, the elderly, the less privileged and the disabled, the war of lights and warmth has already begun. It does not wait for cease-fires. It does not ask for sanctions first. It strikes when nights grow long and the grid fails.
If the world’s response to this crisis is to be judged, it will not be by how many missiles are launched, but by how many vulnerable lives we protected from the darkness.