
In a watershed moment for European security policy, Britain’s support for Germany’s potential delivery of Taurus long-range cruise missiles to Ukraine marks a new chapter in the continent’s military engagement with the ongoing war against Russia. The move, reported by The Telegraph, signals not just a change in German posture under incoming Chancellor Friedrich Merz but also a broader recalibration of European strategy toward confronting Moscow with deeper, more lethal support for Kyiv.
This policy shift comes on the heels of a deadly Russian missile strike in the Ukrainian city of Sumy, which killed at least 34 civilians and wounded dozens more. The timing of the Taurus discussions underlines the growing sense of urgency among Ukraine’s backers in Europe, who see long-range capabilities as essential for Ukraine to disrupt Russian logistics and blunt the Kremlin’s battlefield momentum.
At the heart of this strategic upgrade is the Taurus KEPD 350, a stealthy, precision-guided missile with a range of over 500 kilometers—twice that of systems previously supplied by Britain and France. If greenlit, the delivery would mark the first operational use of Taurus in combat and potentially allow Ukraine to target critical Russian infrastructure deep in occupied territory, including the Crimean peninsula.
Designed through a German-Swedish collaboration—Taurus Systems GmbH, a joint venture between MBDA Germany and Saab Bofors Dynamics—the Taurus cruise missile is built for precision, stealth, and survivability.
Weighing in at 1.4 tons and stretching over five meters, the Taurus is engineered to fly at low altitudes, evading radar while traveling at high subsonic speeds. Its defining feature is the MEPHISTO warhead, a dual-charge system capable of penetrating reinforced structures before detonating internally, making it ideal for hitting command centers, hardened bunkers, and logistics chokepoints.
Guided by a blend of GPS, inertial navigation, and terrain-following radar, the missile remains effective in GPS-denied or electronically contested environments—a key advantage in a war increasingly defined by electronic warfare and jamming.
Its technical superiority, especially in range and warhead design, places it a tier above the Storm Shadow and SCALP-EG cruise missiles currently in Ukrainian hands. Unlike the American ATACMS ballistic missile, which has a different flight path and is more easily intercepted by Russian air defenses, the Taurus is stealthier and better suited for surprise strikes against deeply entrenched positions.
Ukraine has already demonstrated effective use of Storm Shadow and SCALP-EG missiles, striking high-value Russian targets in occupied Crimea and eastern Ukraine. The longer-range Taurus could extend that reach further into enemy-controlled territory, disrupting logistics and command infrastructure with greater frequency and precision.
Perhaps the most symbolic and strategically significant target is the Kerch Bridge, a crucial supply route connecting mainland Russia to Crimea. Built by Russia after the 2014 annexation, the bridge is vital for transporting troops, fuel, and equipment. Merz has openly cited it as a legitimate military target, echoing Ukrainian military priorities.
Beyond the bridge, the missile could be used to neutralize Russian S-400 air defense systems, clearing a path for Ukraine’s incoming F-16 fighter jets. Russia’s layered air defense has made airspace penetration difficult, but with deep-strike capabilities like Taurus, Ukraine could begin to open gaps in that shield.
Germany’s stance on Taurus has evolved dramatically. Outgoing Chancellor Olaf Scholz, from the Social Democratic Party, repeatedly resisted delivering Taurus missiles, citing the risk of escalation and legal concerns over German personnel assisting with targeting data. The Scholz government feared this could drag Germany into direct conflict with Russia, violating constitutional and NATO limits on German military engagement.
Friedrich Merz, leader of the Christian Democratic Union and likely incoming chancellor, has taken a sharply different line. He argues that Germany must step up, not step back. Merz frames the delivery as part of a coordinated European initiative, not a unilateral provocation. By explicitly tying his proposal to British and French support, Merz is attempting to make the Taurus decision not just a German responsibility, but a European one.
In backing the move, Britain has reinforced its role as Europe’s most forward-leaning military supporter of Ukraine. London, which previously delivered Storm Shadow missiles and a massive £1.6 billion aid package, remains committed to keeping Ukraine equipped with advanced weapons, even as U.S. support has faltered.
This could be a defining moment for European defense policy. The potential Taurus transfer and the visible coordination between Germany, Britain, and France point to a pivot: a Europe increasingly willing to shoulder the burden of Ukraine’s defense.
While NATO remains the central security framework, the war in Ukraine has exposed gaps in European military capacity and coordination. As U.S. aid becomes more uncertain—particularly under a Trump-led Republican resurgence—European capitals are waking up to the reality that they may need to carry more of the load.
Merz’s support for a “coalition of the willing,” mirroring British Prime Minister Keir Starmer’s language, suggests that a core group of European powers may start acting more independently in defense affairs. France’s consistent support for Kyiv and Macron’s rhetoric about Europe needing “strategic autonomy” from Washington add to this momentum.
The implication: Europe could become a more cohesive defense actor in its own right—especially if the U.S. scales back or withdraws from long-term commitments.
Russia, unsurprisingly, has already begun responding with intensified rhetoric and preparations. Military analysts expect Moscow to bolster its S-300 and S-400 air defense systems and possibly reposition key assets out of range of potential Taurus strikes, as it did following Storm Shadow attacks.
More likely, however, is a surge in hybrid warfare. Cyberattacks, sabotage, and disinformation campaigns aimed at European audiences are expected to increase, especially in Germany, where public opinion is deeply divided. The goal would be to inflame fears of escalation and exploit divisions within NATO and the EU.
The Institute for the Study of War notes that while Russia’s air defense network is extensive, it’s also imperfect. Gaps in coverage—particularly in the southern theater and around logistics hubs—have been repeatedly exposed by Ukrainian drones and missiles. The stealth and precision of Taurus could deepen these vulnerabilities.
Despite the strategic benefits, delivering Taurus is not a simple decision. Germany has roughly 600 Taurus missiles, and the German Air Force considers them vital to its own operational readiness. Merz has floated a transfer of up to 100 units, arguing this won’t compromise German defense, but replenishing the stockpile will require years of industrial ramp-up.
Saab and MBDA, which maintain the missile, have already secured contracts worth €1.7 billion for modernization through 2035. A surge in demand from Ukraine would likely trigger new orders, boosting Europe’s defense industry—but it would also strain current production lines.
The New York Times has reported that Europe’s defense manufacturing capacity, while growing, is still well behind what’s needed for a sustained high-tempo conflict. Delivery bottlenecks, workforce shortages, and supply chain issues all pose risks to sustained support.
This is more than a logistical problem—it’s a strategic one. If Ukraine receives Taurus missiles but cannot get them in sufficient quantities or in time to change battlefield dynamics, the move risks becoming symbolic rather than transformative.
Merz faces headwinds at home. A recent Deutschlandtrend poll shows that 61% of Germans oppose sending Taurus missiles to Ukraine, up from 52% just a month earlier. War fatigue is rising, and fears of escalation remain potent.
His coalition partners in the Bundestag are also split. While some see the delivery as necessary to uphold European credibility, others argue for alternative aid—drones, artillery shells, or defensive systems.
This internal friction highlights the delicate balancing act Merz must perform: projecting leadership abroad while maintaining legitimacy at home. His ability to build consensus will be a key test of his leadership style and political skill.
Looming in the background is the shifting posture of the United States. Under President Donald Trump’s second administration, there is an explicit desire to end the war through a negotiated settlement—potentially freezing the conflict on terms unfavorable to Kyiv.
Trump officials view European support for continued fighting with suspicion, fearing it could prolong a war they see as unwinnable. This divergence could drive a wedge between the U.S. and its European allies, undermining transatlantic unity.
In this context, Britain and Germany’s collaboration on Taurus is as much about European independence as it is about Ukraine. It’s a signal that if America steps back, Europe can—and will—step up.
The decision to supply Taurus missiles is more than a tactical choice. It’s a strategic signal—a bet that deeper, more precise firepower can shift the momentum of a grinding war. It’s also a gamble that Germany can overcome its internal hesitations, that Europe can fill the gaps left by American ambivalence, and that Russia’s threats can be contained through strength, not appeasement.
The missile itself is a tool, but what it represents is larger: a test of European resolve, unity, and capacity. For Ukraine, it could offer a lifeline at a moment when Russian forces are rearming and regrouping. For Europe, it’s a chance to define its role in a post-Cold War order that is rapidly crumbling.