Support by SAMUDRA PELAUT TRUST DESA
The world’s oceans—once dominated by steel hulls, towering masts, and the thunder of naval artillery—are entering a new phase of technological disruption. The emergence of naval drones in contemporary maritime conflict signals more than a tactical innovation; it represents a profound shift in how states and non-state actors project power across contested waters. From the Black Sea to the Red Sea, the rise of unmanned platforms has challenged long-held assumptions about naval dominance, operational risk, and the balance of power at sea.
Nowhere is this transformation more visible than in Ukraine. In less than two years, a nation once considered outmatched by Russia’s formidable Black Sea Fleet has flipped the maritime equation using low-cost, high-impact naval drones. Platforms like Sea Baby, Magura V5, and an expanding array of kamikaze surface drones have forced Russian warships to retreat from western Black Sea waters—territory they had dominated for decades. Ukraine’s ability to strike at range, penetrate harbor defenses, and harass high-value naval assets has been nothing short of a paradigm shift in maritime asymmetry.
Yet, beneath the surface of these headline-grabbing successes lies a more nuanced reality. The rapid rise of naval drones is less a revolution that replaces fleets and more an evolution that amplifies existing naval power. Ukraine’s successes did not occur in a vacuum. Every strike on Russian vessels relied heavily on satellite connectivity, real-time intelligence-sharing, advanced navigation solutions, and the industrial capacity to produce replacement units at high attrition rates. The war reaffirmed a foundational principle of modern warfare: platforms matter, but networks decide.
Indeed, the effectiveness of Ukraine’s naval drones is inseparable from NATO’s broader ecosystem of surveillance aircraft, satellite infrastructure, and advanced data processing capabilities. Network-Centric Warfare—long a theoretical doctrine—has now become lived reality. Wars are no longer won by the size of a fleet alone, but by the speed and precision of information moving across that fleet.
This evolution mirrors historical patterns. At the dawn of the 20th century, submarines were dismissed as peripheral threats before becoming pillars of naval strategy. Today, a parallel transformation is unfolding. Major navies are racing to integrate unmanned surface and subsurface vehicles into collaborative formations. The United States is testing its Orca XLUUV, Australia is developing the stealthy Ghost Shark, and China is openly displaying its advanced naval drones in military parades. The long-term trajectory is clear: manned and unmanned vessels will operate as cohesive teams, expanding situational awareness and distributing risk across a more diverse maritime force structure.
However, the transition toward a mixed fleet is not without friction. The operational realities of naval drones—highlighted in Yemen’s conflict—underscore the difficulty of managing autonomous or semi-autonomous systems in unpredictable environments. The Houthi group’s use of naval drones like Tufan and Al-Mandab 2 reveals both the potential and the peril. While these platforms allow a non-state actor to threaten major global shipping lanes with staggering efficiency, they also expose gaps in command-and-control doctrines, escalation management, and rules of engagement. At sea, where milliseconds matter, the question of how much autonomy to delegate to machines remains sensitive—and unresolved.
Beyond the tactical dimension, the geopolitical implications are equally profound. Naval drones have begun to flatten traditional hierarchies of maritime power. With relatively modest investments, actors without traditional navies can now disrupt global trade routes, pressure regional rivals, or reshape negotiations. The cost-benefit ratio is drastically tilted; a drone worth tens of thousands of dollars can threaten a warship worth billions. But this democratization is conditional. The true enablers of drone warfare—satellite networks, AI-enabled analytics, secure communication systems—remain concentrated among a handful of technologically advanced nations.
It is within this shifting landscape that Indonesia emerges as a particularly compelling case. As the world’s largest archipelagic state, with over 6 million square kilometers of maritime jurisdiction, Indonesia faces unique security challenges: illegal fishing, smuggling, transnational crime, and foreign intrusions by unmanned underwater vehicles (UUVs). The move toward naval drones is not merely a technological upgrade—it is a strategic necessity.
Across its institutions, Indonesia has begun adopting unmanned systems at a scale never seen before. Basarnas deploys drones to locate survivors in remote waters, equipped with speakers and lights for night operations. Bakamla increasingly relies on aerial and rotary-wing drones to bolster maritime patrols and enforcement. The Indonesian Navy (TNI AL) has launched experiments with naval kamikaze drones and uses unmanned platforms for surveillance and intelligence-gathering. Meanwhile, the Coordinating Ministry for Maritime Affairs and Investment has initiated discussions with the European Union to develop regulatory frameworks for safe and responsible UUV deployment.
The domestic industrial ecosystem is evolving in parallel. PT Dirgantara Indonesia (PTDI) is expanding from airborne UAVs—like the Elang Hitam MALE drone and the Wulung tactical UAV—toward technologies that can directly support naval drone development. The CN-235-220 MPA, Indonesia’s maritime patrol workhorse, already serves as a node in the growing surveillance network. Universities have become key incubators: ITS students have built autonomous rescue vessels, UNAIR is pioneering IoT-based underwater drones for marine research, and PT Robomarine Indonesia, in partnership with ITB, is testing indigenous kamikaze naval drones.
All of this unfolds amid rising challenges. Indonesia still lacks advanced underwater detection systems to identify foreign UUVs entering its waters. Regulations governing UUVs remain incomplete. Several discoveries of foreign drones—believed to be conducting covert surveillance—underscore vulnerabilities. Communication in deep-water environments remains a major technical limitation.
Yet Indonesia’s foundation is unusually strong. Its experience with aerial drones—Elang Hitam, Wulung, LSU—has built a technological base of sensors, control systems, and data integration that can be repurposed for naval development. With maritime territory as vast as Europe’s landmass, the strategic rationale is clear: naval drones will become a critical layer in Indonesia’s future maritime defense architecture.
Taken together, global and regional trends point toward an important conclusion: the future of maritime warfare will not be a contest between manned fleets and unmanned ones. Rather, it will be defined by how effectively nations integrate drones into a cohesive, multi-domain defense ecosystem. Naval drones will expand sensor reach, increase tactical flexibility, and distribute risk across fleets in ways that traditional vessels cannot.
The world is entering an era where small unmanned vessels—guided by real-time intelligence, connected across vast networks, and produced at industrial scale—can shape the behavior of far larger adversaries. This evolution is not explosive but steady. Not revolutionary but inevitable.
For Indonesia, the question is no longer whether naval drones will play a role in its maritime future, but how quickly the nation can accelerate toward a posture that blends sovereignty, technological independence, and operational readiness. The oceans are changing—quietly, rapidly, and irreversibly—and those who adapt will define the next chapter of maritime power.
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