About three months after Russia invaded Ukraine, Serhiy Prytula launched a counter-campaign from Kyiv. Prytula, a well-known Ukrainian TV personality with salt-and-pepper hair and small, piercing eyes, appeared in a YouTube video, asking for donations. “I invite you to join this noble cause,” the 41-year-old said solemnly over rousing music, referring to something he called “the People’s Bayraktar Project”. He wasn’t proposing to buy food or medical supplies; he was raising funds to buy three drones known as the Bayraktar TB2.
A sleek aircraft with a 12m wingspan and a relatively affordable, seven-figure price tag, the Bayraktar gained a reputation for blowing up Russian tanks and artillery in the first weeks of the invasion. (It’s pronounced “bye-rack-tar” and means “standard bearer” in Turkish.) In Ukraine, the drone’s effectiveness made Bayraktar a household name and inspired a hit song penned by soldier-songwriter Taras Borovok. “He turns Russian bandits into ghosts: Bayraktar,” goes one of the verses.
Money began flooding in to Prytula’s campaign from around the world. “Go go Bayraktars,” commented a supporter in Poland on Twitter. “Kick some ass!” an Australian donor tweeted, adding a GIF of boxing kangaroos. In less than three days, Prytula exceeded his $15mn target. Then something unexpected happened: the Turkish defence firm that manufactures the TB2, Baykar Technology, announced it wouldn’t accept the money. Instead, it was giving the drones to the Ukrainian armed forces for free. The company repeated the stunt last month, gifting a drone to Ukraine instead of accepting cash raised by crowdfunders in Poland.