Denmark has found itself at the center of a sweeping security drama after more than 500 possible drone sightings were reported across the country in just 24 hours, prompting airport closures, a wave of public anxiety, and a flurry of political action. The unprecedented surge in drone activity, reported between September 22 and September 26, 2025, has left authorities scrambling to investigate, while fueling fears of coordinated hybrid attacks, possibly linked to Russia, according to Daily Mail and Reuters.
The chaos began when Copenhagen Airport—Scandinavia’s largest—was forced to close on the evening of September 22 due to drone incursions. The disruption quickly spread, with subsequent sightings shutting down Billund, Aalborg, Esbjerg, and Sonderborg airports, as well as the Skrydstrup air base, home to Denmark’s F-16 and F-35 fighter jets. Thousands of travelers found themselves stranded as authorities worked to assess the threat. At Billund Airport, Denmark’s second largest, an early-morning closure on September 26 eventually turned out to be a case of mistaken identity: what was thought to be a drone was later identified by police as “a shining star in the sky,” Reuters reported. Still, the anxiety was palpable, and officials remained on high alert.
Danish Defense Minister Troels Lund Poulsen didn’t mince words about the gravity of the situation, describing the incidents as “the work of a professional actor” and labeling them a “hybrid attack.” He explained, “There can be no doubt that everything points to this being the work of a professional actor when we are talking about such a systematic operation in so many locations at virtually the same time. This is what I would define as a hybrid attack using different types of drones.” Poulsen also acknowledged Denmark’s vulnerability: “We have no defence. We have nothing. We can’t do anything. And we can’t start running around shooting down drones with shotguns,” he said, echoing the concerns of many citizens and experts alike.
The wave of sightings, some later debunked but many still unexplained, has laid bare Denmark’s lack of ground-based air defense systems. Even advanced countermeasures, Poulsen cautioned, might struggle to tackle the types of drones observed. The government’s response has drawn criticism, particularly in light of Denmark’s recent pledge to boost military spending—including plans to acquire long-range weapons capable of striking deep inside Russia. Political analyst Noa Redington summed up the public’s frustration: “Why should we acquire these new weapon systems when we’re not even able to defend Danish airspace? There’s a sense of growing discrepancy between what is said in government and what’s happening in real life.”
This growing anxiety is reflected in the numbers. A poll conducted by Danish broadcaster TV2 found that half of Danes are now more concerned about national security following the incidents. Authorities, meanwhile, have turned to the public for help, urging citizens to document suspected drone activity by photographing and filming incidents—advising them not to zoom in, to preserve context for investigators.
The crisis has also exposed political fault lines. Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen, who described the drone incursions as “the most serious attack on Danish critical infrastructure to date,” faced criticism for her absence during the week—she was traveling in Greenland while the drama unfolded. “She’s not been very clear in her communication,” Redington noted. “The major risk for the government is that the consensus around the defence policy will be challenged.”
At a press conference, Deputy Director of the Danish Agency for Community Safety Henrik F. Brodersen and Chief Inspector of the National Police Peter Ekebjerg revealed that more than 500 potential drone sightings had been documented in just a single day. They emphasized that, despite the scale of the incidents, no current military threat against Denmark had been confirmed. Authorities are also investigating the presence of Russian “shadow fleet” ships in Danish waters, with the probe extending across land, sea, and air operations. Still, as Brodersen and Ekebjerg stressed, there is no evidence that the operators of the drones sought to harm anyone. Senior police inspector Jes Jespersen described the operators as “a capable actor” who appeared to be demonstrating abilities and perhaps practicing methods, rather than launching an outright attack. “It all indicates that you are not out to attack anyone, but you are out to show off and maybe to practice,” Jespersen said.
The incidents have not gone unnoticed beyond Denmark’s borders. European leaders are gathering in Brussels to discuss plans for a continent-wide “drone wall” to guard against similar incursions, with Denmark, Finland, Poland, the Baltic states, and Ukraine expected to coordinate detection and defense systems. The proposed project could draw on the European Union’s 150 billion euro Security Action for Europe fund. Denmark, currently holding the EU presidency, will host a high-level summit in Copenhagen next week to further these discussions. Sweden’s Prime Minister Ulf Kristersson has already offered to send anti-drone equipment to Denmark ahead of the meeting, underscoring the urgency of the situation.
The specter of Russian involvement looms large. While the Kremlin has denied any connection—dismissing the accusations as “absurd” and calling the incidents a “staged provocation”—tensions remain high. Russia’s ambassador to France, Alexey Meshkov, issued a stark warning that shooting down Russian aircraft “would be war.” Poland, meanwhile, has already shot down three Russian drones this month. Prime Minister Donald Tusk did not mince words, calling the situation “the closest we have been to open conflict since World War II” and vowing a strong response if Polish airspace is violated. At the United Nations, former U.S. President Donald Trump declared that NATO nations have the right to shoot down Russian aircraft if they cross into allied airspace, highlighting the gravity of the escalating confrontation.
The drone incidents are only the latest in a series of provocations attributed to Moscow. Estonia recently reported Russian fighter jets entering its airspace, while Romania said a border region was struck by a drone. In the English Channel, British forces shadowed Russian warships and cargo vessels using the HMS Iron Duke and a Wildcat helicopter. European officials increasingly believe these events are part of a deliberate campaign of hybrid warfare designed to destabilize NATO without triggering direct military conflict.
Back at home, Danish authorities remain vigilant. The decision not to shoot down drones over airports was made to avoid endangering passenger traffic, aircraft on the tarmac, and nearby fuel storage. As the investigation continues, Denmark is set to join a coalition of frontline nations to examine the EU’s “drone wall” proposals, hoping to shore up defenses before the next wave of incursions—whatever their origin—strikes again.
In Denmark, the drone crisis has laid bare the country’s vulnerabilities, challenged government policy, and spurred a continent-wide reckoning over the future of airspace security. The coming weeks will test whether Europe can turn anxiety into action—or whether the shadowy threat will keep everyone looking nervously skyward.