Many laughed. Many twirled their fingers at their temples. Many, with the air of experienced ‘experts,’ explained that he would not succeed.
Ukraine, they said, would not be able to quickly create long-range drones. Would not be able to launch its own missile program. Would not be able to do what for decades was considered the domain of large defense corporations, closed institutes, and countries with huge military budgets.
While some wrote mocking comments, others worked.
Without unnecessary noise. Without daily excuses. Without trying to prove something to those who had already decided that everything was impossible.
Today, the name Denis Shtilerman sounds different. He is the co-owner and chief designer of the Ukrainian defense company Fire Point, which during the great war became one of the most notable producers of long-range strike systems in Ukraine. Associated Press described Fire Point as a company that showcased the FP-1 — a strike drone with a claimed range of up to 1600 km, and is also working on the FP-5 Flamingo — a cruise missile with a range of up to 3000 km.
For Israel, this story is especially clear.
A country that has lived for decades next to the threat of missiles, drones, ballistics, and the constant need to protect the sky understands well: an engineering school is not just a beautiful phrase. It is a matter of life, time, interception cost, production speed, and the state’s ability not to wait for a miracle, but to create its own solutions.
Who is Denis Shtilerman
Denis Shtilerman is not a classic product of a closed defense corporation. His biography does not begin with a military plant or loud government positions, but with an ordinary Ukrainian family story where technology, physics, and engineering thinking were part of everyday life.
He was born in Odessa and grew up in Kyiv. His mother was an engineer, his father a scientist, worked at a Kyiv scientific institute, and dealt with turbines. Shtilerman himself said in an interview that he studied at Kyiv school No. 79, which he called a school that was once part of a synagogue.
For a dry biography, this may seem like a detail.
But for an Israeli reader, such a detail sounds different. Odessa, Kyiv, physics and mathematics, a family of engineers, a school with a memory of a synagogue — all this forms a recognizable Eastern European story where Jewish, Ukrainian, and Soviet lines often intertwined in one destiny.
There is another important detail.
The Jewish line in his family is connected with his father and the surname Shtilerman. According to Denis, his father came from a Jewish family and bore this surname, but during Soviet times changed it to a Russian one to enter MEPhI. Later, as Shtilerman recounted, his father discovered his Jewish roots, which led to his expulsion. Denis himself later restored the surname Shtilerman, which he considered the true family name.
This should not be turned into a slogan.
But it is important for understanding the person. His biography includes not only technology and business. There is a surname that the family had to hide. There is a Soviet experience familiar to many Jewish families. There is the return of a name. And there is a new Ukrainian reality where a person with such family memory works not for a foreign empire, but for the defense of Ukraine.
From civilian life to defense development
Before Russia’s full-scale invasion, Shtilerman was not a public figure in the Ukrainian defense industry. Publications about Fire Point noted that the key people of the company came not from the classic military-industrial complex, but from civilian fields — business, IT, architecture, the film industry, and engineering projects.
After 2022, much changed.
Shtilerman said that together with friends he helped the Ukrainian military: purchased drones, handled logistics, supported artillery units. Then it became clear that there was either nothing to buy on the market or the prices became unacceptable for a war of this scale. Thus, the idea arose to make their own long-range drone — not an exhibition sample, but a working tool for the front.
This is the main difference between talk and action.
Some explained why it wouldn’t work. Others calculated, tested, searched for components, argued with metal, aerodynamics, electronics, and time.
Fire Point: from ridicule to long-range power
Not long ago, there was a lot of skepticism around Fire Point. The company was called too loud a project. The Flamingo missile was discussed with disdain. Long-range Ukrainian drones were perceived as either fantasy, PR, or another story that ‘wouldn’t fly.’
And then the conversation changed.
The FP-1 became one of the symbols of the Ukrainian long-range response. According to open publications, Fire Point showcased the FP-1 as a strike drone with a range of up to 1600 km. This is no longer the level of trench improvisation, but a tool that allows Ukraine to keep military and industrial infrastructure in Russia under pressure far beyond the front line.
But even more attention was drawn to the Flamingo.
It is important to speak accurately: the Flamingo is not a ballistic missile, but a cruise missile FP-5. Western publications linked it with a claimed range of up to 3000 km and a heavy warhead of about 1150 kg. Reuters also wrote that Fire Point produces the Flamingo and that Ukraine has already used this cruise missile against important Russian military-industrial targets.
For Ukraine, this is a fundamental story.
For years, Russia relied on the depth of its territory. Russian terrorists struck Ukrainian cities, energy, ports, hospitals, schools, and residential areas, assuming that the response would always be limited. That distance would protect factories, bases, refineries, airfields, and military logistics.
The Ukrainian long-range program breaks this confidence.
Ballistics, interception, and the new cost of sky protection
The next level of this story is the ballistic developments of Fire Point and the Freyja missile defense system project.
Reuters reported in June 2026 that Fire Point conducted a guided flight test of the FP-7.X — a missile that should become the basis of the future Freyja anti-ballistic interceptor. The agency also noted that the FP-7.X is a variant of the interceptor based on the FP-7, and Fire Point itself is working on the idea of a cheaper alternative to the American Patriot.
This is important not only for Ukraine.
For Israel, the question of interception cost has long been not theoretical. Any country living under the threat of missiles and drones faces tough arithmetic: how much the enemy’s missile costs, how much the interceptor costs, how many batteries are on the ground, how much ammunition is left in stock, and how quickly the industry can replenish the expenditure.
That is why НАновости — News of Israel | Nikk.Agency considers the story of Fire Point not as a Ukrainian internal sensation, but as part of a major restructuring of defense thinking. Ukraine, Israel, and Europe are in different geographies, but they have a common question: how to protect people if threats are increasing, and old systems are too expensive, too scarce, and too slow to produce.
At the Eurosatory 2026 exhibition near Paris, Fire Point no longer looked like a small startup asking for attention, but as a Ukrainian participant in the European security conversation. Le Monde wrote that Shtilerman is promoting the idea of a pan-European Freyja anti-ballistic shield, and potential partners included Hensoldt, Kongsberg, and Thales.
Why this story is important for Ukraine, Israel, and Europe
Today, there are still questions around Denis Shtilerman and Fire Point. They cannot be ignored.
Ukrainian and Western publications discussed his past, documents, business connections, and possible influence of people from the political-business environment. Such questions are normal when it comes to defense contracts, state money, and national security.
But there is another side.
Debates about biography do not negate the fact that Fire Point became one of the companies that changed the Ukrainian conversation about long-range weapons. And they do not negate the fact that Shtilerman transformed from a non-public engineer and entrepreneur into a person whose name is now mentioned in the context of European air defense, the Ukrainian missile program, and the future deterrence of Russia.
This is no longer a story about a ‘fake.’
This is a story about how a country at war stops being just a recipient of foreign aid and starts creating its own tools of power.
Ukraine is not just asking for missiles. Ukraine is making drones. Ukraine is developing cruise missiles. Ukraine is testing ballistic solutions. Ukraine is looking for a way to create a more affordable interceptor. And Europe, which not long ago viewed the Ukrainian defense industry as a forced military improvisation, is now forced to consider it as a source of real experience.
History is not changed by loudmouths
That is why mockery today looks especially petty.
Some wrote: ‘fake.’
Others made the FP-1.
Some said: ‘it won’t fly.’
Others showcased the Flamingo.
Some explained that Ukrainian ballistics were impossible.
Others launched the FP-7.X into testing and discussed Freyja with European partners.
History is not changed by know-it-alls from social networks. Not by professional critics who, after every success, pretend that ‘they understood everything anyway.’ Not by those who can only devalue someone else’s work and then quickly change their tone.
History is changed by engineers, manufacturers, military personnel, testers, and people who know how to work without applause.
Denis Shtilerman does not have to be an impeccable hero for a beautiful legend. In real war, there are rarely pure poster figures. Real people have complex biographies, controversial pages, questions, answers, mistakes, and turns.
But there is a fact that is already hard to cancel.
A person with an Odessa-Kyiv biography, a Jewish line in family history, a restored surname, and engineering thinking found himself at the center of the Ukrainian defense transformation. Not in theory. Not in a beautiful post. But in the production of systems that are now talked about in Ukraine, Israel, and Europe.
Ukraine stands precisely on such people.
On those who do not promise a miracle, but make a system. On those who do not argue with commentators, but argue with metal, aerodynamics, electronics, radar, fuel, logistics, and time. On those who understand: if not done today, tomorrow Russian missiles will again hit residential buildings, hospitals, schools, and energy.
Russia will lose not only on the battlefield.
It will lose where it long considered itself stronger: in technology, speed of decisions, engineering audacity, and the ability of free people to work for their country.
And if someone laughs again — let them laugh quieter.
Because tomorrow they may have to swallow their words again.
