Washington is seriously considering allowing Ukraine to strike deep into Russia and — for the first time — the possibility of supplying Tomahawk cruise missiles. This is a clear shift in U.S. policy: during earlier phases of the war, providing means that could span Russia’s strategic depth was avoided, but now the Trump administration is “looking at” Kyiv’s request and does not rule out transfers via European intermediaries. At the same time, special envoy Keith Kellogg has publicly confirmed a “no sanctuary” doctrine, with the message that Ukraine may strike the Russian rear at long ranges. This opens the most dangerous leg yet in the escalation spiral.
Volodymyr Zelensky raised the request for Tomahawks on the sidelines of the UN General Assembly on September 23. U.S. vice president JD Vance speaks of “European skin in the game” — a scheme under which European NATO members would purchase the missiles and then hand them over to Kyiv. The final decision rests with Trump. Such an arrangement simultaneously shifts financial and political risk onto Europe while allowing Washington to retain nominal distance from the actual delivery. Baltic actors are particularly pushing for support — Lithuanian politician (former foreign minister) Gabrielius Landsbergis claims that such armament would “control Russian escalation.”
Why are Tomahawk missiles different from everything Ukraine has had so far? The BGM‑109 (official designation) is a subsonic, ground‑guided cruise missile that flies low over terrain, using a combination of INS/GPS and TERCOM/DSMAC corrections. Typical range is up to about 2,500 km, with a warhead of roughly 450 kg — an order of magnitude more explosive mass and a substantially greater range than the British Storm Shadow (~250 km) or ATACMS (up to ~300 km). That range geometry puts almost the entire European part of Russia within reach, including Moscow and deep logistical hubs, strategic bomber airfields, ammunition depots and command centers that until now were safe.
Technical‑operational issues are significant. The Tomahawk was originally designed for launch from ships and submarines (VLS Mk‑41, torpedo tubes), but after the INF collapse in 2019 the U.S. tested a land variant with an Mk‑41 module. If land launchers are to be used in Ukraine, Kyiv would need to receive adapted, mobile platforms.
Moscow is currently publicly downplaying it, but is sending warnings between the lines. Dmitry Peskov asks “who launches and who chooses the targets — the Americans or the Ukrainians?” — that is the key red line in the Russian perception of direct American involvement. At the same time he says there is “no magic weapon” that would reverse the front. Such rhetoric goes hand in hand with threats of retaliation: on several occasions Russian leadership has warned that strikes deep inside Russia by Western missiles could provoke a “symmetric” response — including against the infrastructure of states that enable such attacks. Medvedev now openly warns that Europe “cannot afford a war with Russia,” with the risk of a “fatal accident” in the nuclear sphere.
From a military point of view, the effect of the Tomahawk will depend on numbers, modes of employment and Russian countermeasures. Russian integrated air defense — the S‑300/400 layers over Moscow and key bases, and point defenses (Pantsir, Tor) — is not impenetrable, but a massive strike of low‑flying cruise missiles is hard to stop entirely, especially across large territory and numerous targets. At the same time Russia can respond by dispersal, hardening, relocating sensitive assets deeper into the rear, and proactively hunting Ukrainian launchers and logistics. In the deterrence game, the Tomahawk opens the possibility of a “strategic incision” into Russia’s operational rhythm (air bases, rail hubs, energy and military lines), but it also encourages Russia to further militarize its depth.
The key question is not technical but strategic: is this deterrence or coercion? Advocates argue that expanding the zone of vulnerability will force the Kremlin to come to the table. But in practice every previous “shift of the red line” (HIMARS, then Patriot, tanks, Storm Shadow, ATACMS…) has produced Russian escalation in the range and tempo of strikes, without political collapse in Moscow. The Tomahawk raises the stakes: greater range means less time for assessment and a higher risk of mistaken attribution (“did the launch come from the ground in Ukraine or from a partner’s vessel?”) — precisely the scenario Peskov mentions. That ambiguity is fertile ground for an incident that could spin out of control.
In the political dimension, this decision — if made — will not draw America into the war; it will draw Europe in. The transatlantic cushion gives Washington the comfort of “strategic separation,” while any Russian response — kinetic, cyber, economic or sabotage — will be focused on European territories and infrastructure involved in procurement, transit, targeting or logistics of the systems. Vance’s “European purchase” scheme does not share responsibility; it shifts it. And the fact that principal European partners will almost certainly support such a line testifies to a catastrophic willingness to project risk onto their own doorstep instead of seeking a political way out of the war.
In Kyiv they realistically count on a “linking” of fronts: every escalation step that pulls Poland or the Baltics in deeper — even through intelligence, logistical or air‑defense components — opens the path to tighter NATO involvement. The Tomahawk is useful for that strategy because it is simultaneously militarily effective and politically compromising for states that help its launch and targeting architecture. That is also why it is important for Moscow to prove who “pulls the trigger” — in order to justify potential retaliation against actors outside Ukraine.
Therefore the most dangerous effect of the Tomahawk is paradoxical: as a means of deterrence it can temporarily reduce Russia’s rear security, but as a “tool of coercion” it almost certainly increases Moscow’s motivation to deliver a shock (massive strikes, energy‑cyber operations, demonstrative use of new assets). If a mistaken assessment is made about the origin and operator of a missile, pressure from the public and elites in Russia for “strikes beyond Ukraine” would rise sharply. Europe would then, for the first time, feel real — perhaps irreversible — consequences.
A Tomahawk in Ukrainian hands would be a major technical and operational “jump,” but with political‑strategic elements that far exceed battlefield benefit. It is a decision that can be made in Washington with ease, knowing that strikes and retaliations will play out in and over Europe. For European governments that should be an alarm, not another occasion to demonstrate loyalty to Kyiv and Washington! Instead of gambling with their own security in the hope that a “no sanctuary” tactic will break Moscow, Europe should invest political capital in stopping the war — before the Tomahawk, a symbol of American — not European — power, turns it into a dangerous Euro‑Russian roulette.