The Collapse of the INF – The Past Becomes the Present as Russian Medium-Range Missiles Once Again Have All of Europe in Their Crosshairs
Europe is definitively returning to an era when the warning siren might sound just minutes before the impact of a medium-range missile. Today’s confirmation from Moscow that it no longer considers itself bound by the remnants of the INF Treaty is not just a bureaucratic note—it is the final end of one of the last pillars of Cold War stability, and a return to a logic where powers reach for weapons first and the phone second. The INF Treaty of 1987 eliminated an entire class of missiles that had hung over Europe’s head—but it seems Europe will have to get used to such uncomfortable uncertainties once again.
When Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev signed the INF Treaty, Europe breathed a sigh of relief: the Americans withdrew their Pershing IIs, the Soviets their SS-20s, and the British and French realized they could build prosperity without fearing they’d become a scorched buffer zone. The treaty was symmetrical, transparent, and binding—the only true denuclearization of an entire category of weapons. Beyond reducing the nuclear arsenal, the INF politically proved that even the deepest rivalry doesn’t necessarily have to end in total confrontation. That lesson has been dramatically forgotten today.
The U.S. withdrawal on August 2, 2019—officially due to the Russian 9M729 system—was actually the prelude to a broader strategic pivot by Washington toward a “great power competition” with China. The White House claimed that a bilateral treaty made no sense when a third player held several hundred IRBMs. In practice, however, the U.S. broke the old agreement first and then accused Moscow of violating it. Russia, understandably, responded symmetrically: it suspended the INF and offered a moratorium on the condition that the U.S. not deploy new missiles in Europe. That moratorium hung by a thin thread for five years—and the West cut it.
It is clear that Washington never truly paused—Aegis Ashore systems with vertical launch tubes in Romania and Poland can technically launch Tomahawk cruise missiles, while Germany last year agreed to host a new generation of hypersonic SM-6 systems and tactical ballistic missiles with a range of up to 2,500 km. All of this is formally “conventional,” but to Moscow, words on paper are cold comfort when the launch tubes look the same and the flight time to St. Petersburg or Smolensk drops below ten minutes.
Putin’s announcement that “conditions for a unilateral moratorium no longer exist” is not just a reaction to American weaponry, but a political message: Russia no longer feels obligated to play by rules that others openly violate. Russia possesses an arsenal covering the INF range—modernized Iskander-M, the Lancet-AD drone, and the new hypersonic Oreshnik. The most sensitive point is, of course, Kaliningrad, where missile deployments could hold all of Central Europe in the crosshairs. The same applies to capabilities in Belarus, Crimea, or even the Arctic Circle, where militarization of the Northern Sea Route is accelerating.
European capitals are once again rediscovering an old geographic truth—the continent is narrow, and cities are too densely packed for a missile showdown at these speeds. Warsaw and Bucharest, which enthusiastically embraced U.S. systems, now fear becoming the first targets of deterrence. Berlin faces internal unrest as opposition to militarization grows on the political fringes, while Paris and London—with their own nuclear arsenals—remain silent, aware that the loss of INF opens the door to both Russian and American guns trained on French and British bases.
The loss of the treaty further shortens the “decision window.” A 1,500 km-range missile launched from a ground vehicle takes five to six minutes to reach its target. A politician, shocked by a satellite warning, needs longer just to get out of their chair than the missile takes to cross Poland. Short warning times, combined with the disappearance of communication channels (the NATO–Russia Council hasn’t met since 2022), create a “shoot first, ask later” atmosphere—precisely what the INF was designed to prevent.
The broader context is even gloomier. New START is suspended, the Open Skies Treaty has been terminated, and no one has seriously attempted to bring China into dialogue. The world is embracing a brutal logic—without a central negotiating table, everyone assumes it’s better to have a missile ready than a signature on a treaty. Even if Washington and Moscow were to sit down tomorrow, Beijing, New Delhi, Tel Aviv, Pyongyang, and Tehran remain outside the picture. The INF was a product of bipolar balance—something that today seems unattainable.
What’s next? The first scenario is an arms race. The U.S. is testing a land-based version of the Tomahawk, Russia is mass-producing the Kinzhal and Zircon, and NATO partners are discussing integrating long-range European launch platforms. The second, somewhat more positive scenario, is “controlled deterrence”—a zone of reciprocity where, for example, Europe accepts only non-nuclear Western-made missiles, while Russia limits deployments to its internationally recognized territory. But such a gentleman’s game requires trust—which has evaporated.
Paradoxically, Europe has the most to lose—but is also the only player that can inject a new dynamic. If Berlin, Paris, and Rome finally realize they have become hostages to U.S.–Russia logic, they could initiate a “continental moratorium”: no INF-class missiles on either side of the Baltics and Carpathians. That idea sounds utopian today, but four decades ago it was precisely West Germany that proposed the “dual-track” policy that opened the door to INF. History doesn’t repeat—but sometimes it echoes its own solutions.
For now, however, reality looks different—Russia gains free rein, NATO claims it’s merely “balancing the threat,” and strategic stability turns into a game of nerves. As Washington prepares for dual competition with Moscow and Beijing, and the Kremlin assures its domestic audience it is defending against the “collective West,” European citizens remain the spectators—cheering or booing, but not deciding where the missiles will fly.
Russia’s exit from the INF is not the cause, but a symptom of the broader collapse of the order that, for three decades—like it or not—guaranteed a minimal level of predictability among nuclear powers. We are entering an era where strength is measured by the number of hypersonic missiles, and diplomatic pressure is replaced by targeting systems. Unless a new formula for collective security is found soon, Europe will once again become the playing card of superpowers—this time without the safety net of the pages signed in 1987. The choice is now clear—either renew agreements adapted to a multipolar world or continue the spiral in which each side strengthens “deterrence” until the first twitch turns the word “security” into irony.
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