In the early hours of November 8, 2025, a drone buzzed over the Russian trade delegation’s villa on Lidingö island, just outside Stockholm, and released a payload of paint and an unidentified sticky substance onto the property. It was hardly a one-off event. According to The Hill, this marked the latest in a series of more than two dozen similar drone incidents targeting Russian diplomatic sites across Sweden since May 2024. While the attacks have caused only minor property damage, they have ignited a diplomatic firestorm between Moscow and Stockholm, with both sides trading accusations and grievances as tensions in Europe continue to simmer.
Staff at the villa first spotted the drone around 5:30 a.m., and Swedish police responded by collecting samples for analysis and launching an investigation into what they are treating as acts of vandalism and harassment. No injuries were reported, and the villa was not evacuated. Officers interviewed witnesses, but as of November 10, authorities had not identified or apprehended any suspects. The investigation remains open, and the perpetrators’ motives are still officially unconfirmed, though the symbolism of the attacks is hard to ignore.
The Russian Embassy in Sweden confirmed the incident in a Telegram statement, describing it as “another drone attack” and noting that the total number of such episodes has now exceeded two dozen since May 2024. Russian state news agency Tass reported that at least 15 of these attacks have involved glass containers filled with paint, which have splattered across embassy buildings and residences, creating both safety hazards and diplomatic headaches. According to the embassy, police have been notified after every incident, and multiple diplomatic notes have been sent to Sweden’s Foreign Ministry. Yet, as the embassy pointed out, “none of the suspects have been identified or apprehended.”
For Moscow, the Swedish response—or lack thereof—has become a point of bitter contention. Russian Foreign Ministry spokesperson Maria Zakharova did not mince words on November 10, accusing Swedish authorities of failing to protect Russian diplomatic missions. She claimed the attacks were carried out “with the full connivance of Swedish authorities,” and argued that Sweden “grossly violates” the 1961 Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations. According to Zakharova, Sweden “appears incapable of enforcing domestic legislation,” a charge that Stockholm has not taken lightly.
In response, Swedish police have maintained that their investigations treat the incidents as vandalism, not politically motivated attacks—at least not yet. They have not confirmed any political motive, emphasizing instead that they are following the evidence where it leads. But the broader context is impossible to ignore: the villa is located on Lidingö island, a leafy enclave that houses several foreign embassies and diplomatic residences. The area has seen a spike in drone activity—and not the friendly kind—since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022, a development that has soured relations between Moscow and much of Europe.
Sweden, for its part, joined NATO earlier in 2025, a historic move that has added new layers of complexity to its already fraught relationship with Russia. The ongoing drone incidents, while not causing serious harm, have become potent symbols of rising public hostility toward Russian state institutions abroad. For Swedish authorities, they also represent a growing challenge: how to balance the right to protest with the obligation to protect diplomatic premises, all while navigating a rapidly evolving security landscape.
According to DroneXL, this isn’t your average graffiti protest—it’s part of a “strange new trend where drones have become flying messengers of political discontent.” The attacks blur the line between civil demonstration and airspace intrusion, raising questions about the adequacy of current drone regulations and the security of sensitive sites. As DroneXL put it, “the drones used here certainly mastered the art of making a diplomatic splash.” But beneath the paint and sticky residue lies a serious issue: the misuse of drones around embassies and consulates is on the rise, and it’s a trend that shows no sign of abating.
Meanwhile, the diplomatic fallout from these incidents is being amplified by wider tensions between Russia and Western media. On November 10, Russian Foreign Ministry spokesperson Maria Zakharova seized on the ongoing crisis at the BBC—where both director-general Tim Davie and news chief executive Deborah Turness resigned following a controversy over edited footage of U.S. President Donald Trump—to launch a fresh volley of criticism at the British broadcaster. According to multiple reports, Zakharova accused the BBC of “falsifying” its coverage of Russian atrocities in Bucha during the Ukraine invasion, disputing substantial evidence of torture, rape, and killings by Russian troops.
Zakharova didn’t stop there. She also blasted the BBC’s reporting on the 2018 nerve agent attack on former spy Sergei Skripal and his daughter, the 2014 Sochi Winter Olympics, and the Syrian war, claiming the broadcaster had “invented incredible stories about Russian fans ahead of the Sochi Olympics, fakes about Syria, inflated absurd rumours about the Skripals, and much more.” Fellow Kremlin figure Kirill Dmitriev joined the attack, branding the BBC as “warmongering” over Ukraine and suggesting, without evidence, that it is “steered by a government pushing mass migration, warmongering, digital IDs & early prisoner releases.”
Yet the facts on the ground in Bucha are well-documented. A U.N. human rights mission found evidence of unlawful killings and summary executions of civilians in areas under Russian control at the time, and organizations like Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International have recorded summary executions, enforced disappearances, and torture in Bucha shortly after Russian forces withdrew. The BBC’s reporting, while now under scrutiny due to the editing controversy, has been consistent with findings from these independent organizations.
The Kremlin has been quick to leverage the BBC crisis for propaganda purposes, using it to cast doubt on Western media coverage of Russian actions in Ukraine and beyond. The BBC, for its part, is facing a reckoning over its editorial standards, following the resignations triggered by the Panorama documentary controversy. The episode has given Russian officials ammunition to question the credibility of Western reporting, even as independent evidence continues to highlight abuses committed by Russian forces.
Back in Sweden, the Russian Embassy says it has increased its own security measures but admits that its “capabilities are limited.” Swedish authorities remain under pressure to do more, both to protect foreign diplomatic sites and to reassure the public that Sweden’s international obligations are being met. For now, the drone attacks remain unsolved, their perpetrators at large and their motives—whether political, personal, or simply mischievous—still a matter of speculation.
As the sun rises over Lidingö island, the paint stains on the Russian villa serve as a colorful, if troubling, reminder of the new frontiers in diplomatic conflict. In an era where drones can carry messages as easily as they carry paint, the challenges facing both Swedish authorities and Russian diplomats are unlikely to fade any time soon.