The skies above Europe have become an unlikely battleground, with the recent alleged GPS jamming incident involving European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen’s plane thrusting the issue of electronic warfare—and its political implications—firmly into the spotlight. What began as a routine flight to Bulgaria on August 31, 2025, quickly became a flashpoint for a continent grappling with surging threats to its critical infrastructure and the fog of geopolitical suspicion.
According to multiple reports, von der Leyen’s aircraft lost its Global Positioning System (GPS) signal as it approached Plovdiv, Bulgaria, on that late summer Sunday. The disruption, initially described as severe enough to force pilots to rely on paper maps and manual navigation, was quickly attributed by European Commission officials to suspected Russian interference. “We can confirm there was GPS jamming, but the plane landed safely in Bulgaria. We have received information from Bulgarian authorities that they suspect that this was due to blatant interference by Russia,” a Commission spokesperson stated the following day, as cited by Euronews.
The gravity of the situation was underscored by the broader context: European ministers had already warned in May 2025 that GPS jamming and spoofing—long observed in the Baltic Sea region, mainly from Russia and Belarus—had spiked dramatically since August 2024. Lithuania’s communications regulator recorded more than 1,000 cases of GPS interference in June 2025 alone, a staggering 22-fold increase from the previous year. Estonia reported that 85% of flights were affected, while Poland tallied 2,732 incidents in January 2025. Sweden’s Transport Agency, too, sounded the alarm after GNSS disruptions soared from 55 in 2023 to 733 by late August 2025, with ground-based sources in Russian territory suspected as the culprits.
Against this backdrop, the von der Leyen incident seemed to fit an ominous pattern. NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte declared that Europe was under a “direct threat from the Russians,” warning, “We are all on the eastern flank now, whether you live in London or Tallinn.” He added that the alliance was “working day and night to counter this, to prevent it, and to make sure that they will not do it again.” Rutte’s words echoed the sense of urgency gripping European capitals as electronic warfare tactics—once the stuff of spy novels—became a daily reality for civil aviation and critical infrastructure.
Yet, as the week unfolded, the narrative around von der Leyen’s flight grew muddier. Bulgarian Prime Minister Rosen Zhelyazkov initially acknowledged the possibility of electronic warfare linked to the war in Ukraine. But by Thursday, September 4, he reversed course. Addressing parliament, Zhelyazkov stated, “After checking the aircraft’s recordings, we saw no indication of concern from the pilot. The plane circled in holding for five minutes, with the signal quality remaining good the entire time.” He characterized the interference as partial and common in densely populated areas, downplaying any suggestion of a targeted attack.
Deputy Prime Minister and Transport Minister Grozdan Karadjov reinforced this skepticism, telling Bulgarian broadcaster bTV that “empirical data, radio-tracking information, and records from both civilian and military services provided no evidence that GPS jamming was responsible for the signal disruption affecting the aircraft.” The government’s U-turn left European officials and observers questioning whether the incident was a genuine act of sabotage or a technical hiccup amplified by political sensitivities.
Independent analysis seemed to support the Bulgarian retraction. Flightradar24’s flight data showed consistent navigation accuracy for von der Leyen’s plane, with only a slight extension of flight time—contradicting initial reports of prolonged circling or dramatic manual landings. Still, the episode highlighted the challenges of attribution in the shadowy world of electronic warfare, where lines between accident, nuisance, and deliberate attack blur easily.
For many experts, the broader trend is unmistakable. John Hardie, deputy director of the Russia Programme at the Foundation for Defence of Democracies, told Euronews, “Certainly the Russians have capabilities in both [cyber and electronic warfare] domains that could have potentially been involved.” He noted that Russian tactics often involve recruiting local actors through apps like Telegram to carry out subversive activities, consistent with what intelligence agencies call “grey zone” or “active measures” campaigns.
The International Institute for Strategic Studies (IISS) reported that Russian sabotage operations in Europe have nearly quadrupled since 2023. These acts, according to IISS, target critical infrastructure and are designed to “intimidate, disrupt and probe the resolve of European governments in a manner carefully calibrated to avoid crossing the threshold that would trigger a forceful retaliatory response.” Notably, there have been no confirmed civilian deaths directly linked to Russian sabotage in Europe since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, but the intent to sow confusion and test defenses is clear.
Within the aviation community, pilots and regulators are adapting to the new normal. A commercial airline pilot, speaking anonymously to Euronews, said that GPS jamming near conflict zones such as Ukraine and the Middle East is “not something you remember for the rest of my life. But it’s also not something that happens every single day either.” He emphasized that pilots are trained to handle navigation disruptions and that, so far, there is no evidence of malicious interference specifically targeting airliners for destruction.
European authorities aren’t standing still. The EU commissioner for Defence and Space, Andrius Kubilius, announced plans to deploy additional satellites in low Earth orbit to bolster defenses against GPS interference and improve detection capabilities. “We have agreed on policies there to really be more effective in this area,” Rutte said, highlighting a continent-wide push to stay ahead of evolving threats.
Despite the swirling accusations, political reversals, and technical ambiguities, one fact remains: the threat to Europe’s airspace and critical infrastructure is growing more complex by the day. Whether the von der Leyen episode was a case of Russian hybrid warfare or a routine technical anomaly, it has exposed the vulnerability—and the volatility—of a continent on edge.
The skies may look peaceful, but Europe’s leaders and pilots know better. In an era where invisible signals can spell danger, vigilance and clarity are more vital than ever.
