Russia's Oreshnik missile

Friday 9 January 2026

Russia’s Oreshnik missile sits in an awkward space between battlefield weapon and political instrument. It is presented by the Kremlin as a decisive new capability, almost a conventional substitute for nuclear force, yet its two known appearances in Ukraine have functioned at least as much as messages as munitions: first to demonstrate that Russia can introduce new strategic-class hardware into the war at a time of her choosing, and now to remind Ukraine and her partners that distance from the front line is no guarantee of safety.

On 9 January 2026 Russia stated that she fired an Oreshnik missile into western Ukraine, with Ukrainian officials reporting a strike on critical infrastructure in the Lviv region. This was widely reported as only the second recorded use of the system in the war. The first, on 21 November 2024, was a strike on Dnipro which drew disproportionate attention because it appeared to involve a novel missile type with a multiple-warhead payload, even though early assessments suggested the warheads were inert or otherwise used in a demonstrative fashion. 

To understand why these two episodes matter, it helps to treat Oreshnik less as a single “wonder weapon” and more as a bundle of effects: speed, reach, payload architecture and, above all, signalling.

What Oreshnik is, in plain terms

Oreshnik is generally described as an intermediate-range ballistic missile (IRBM) with hypersonic terminal speed, meaning it follows a ballistic arc after boost and then descends at very high velocity, reportedly above Mach 10. Current Ukrainian air defences are believed not to be able to intercept it. The missile is also widely assessed to be derived from Russia’s RS-26 Rubezh programme. This lineage matters because it places Oreshnik closer to strategic delivery systems than to the shorter-range ballistic missiles Russia has routinely used against Ukraine.

The feature that makes Oreshnik distinctive in the public reporting is not merely speed but the reported ability to carry multiple warheads that can be released on descent, potentially striking separated aimpoints. Reuters described the missile as capable of carrying multiple warheads, a characteristic more typical of long-range strategic missiles than of the weapons most commonly expended in this war. Even when such warheads are non-nuclear, the architecture complicates air defence because defenders may need to track and attempt to intercept several re-entry bodies rather than a single one.

Two further points are worth keeping separate.

First, “hypersonic” is often used as a rhetorical amplifier. A ballistic missile’s re-entry speed is hypersonic by definition. What tends to matter operationally is warning time, flight profile and whether the target has appropriate interceptors, rather than the headline Mach number.

Secondly, nuclear capability is not the same as nuclear intent. Oreshnik is described as capable of carrying nuclear warheads, but there has been no credible indication that nuclear warheads were used in either Ukrainian strike. The significance is deterrent and psychological: nuclear-capable systems, even when conventionally armed, are designed to carry strategic meaning.

The first known use: Dnipro, 21 November 2024

When Oreshnik (or what Russia called Oreshnik) struck Dnipro in November 2024, the episode read as theatre with consequences. Reporting and subsequent analysis focused on three elements.

1. Novelty and ambiguity

   
   

   The Dnipro strike was treated as the first combat use of the system, and it was accompanied by uncertainty about what exactly had been fired and with what payload. Open reporting around that period repeatedly noted indications that the warheads may have been inert or otherwise not configured for maximum blast effect, feeding the interpretation that the strike was intended to demonstrate capability and create fear, rather than to destroy a specific target in the conventional manner. 

   
   

2. Multiple re-entry bodies as a message

   
   

   Even if the physical damage was limited compared with other Russian attacks, the apparent release of multiple descending bodies suggested a payload architecture designed to complicate interception. In a war where air defence is as much about conserving scarce interceptors as it is about protecting cities, forcing Ukraine to contemplate a class of threat that may demand high-end interceptor expenditure can itself be strategically useful to Russia.

   
   

3. Nuclear shadow without nuclear use

   
   

   The Kremlin’s own framing of the Dnipro launch leaned into nuclear association and “red line” rhetoric, even as the strike remained non-nuclear. That is a familiar pattern in Russian strategic communication: bring nuclear language into view to deter Western decisions, while keeping actual nuclear employment off the table. The missile’s introduction therefore functioned as part of Russia’s broader intimidation repertoire, aimed as much at decision-makers in allied capitals as at Ukrainian civilians. 

Dnipro in other words was a demonstration that Russia can bring strategic-class delivery concepts into a conventional war, even if the immediate battlefield utility is limited. The point was not only what was hit, but what could be hit, later, with less ambiguity.

The second known use: Lviv region, overnight 8–9 January 2026

The January 2026 strike is more alarming for western Ukraine precisely because of geography. The Lviv region is a logistics hinterland, a critical node for repairs, training, transit and the quiet routines of a society trying to keep functioning. It is also close to NATO territory, which ensures that any significant escalation near the Polish border is read through a wider lens.

According to Reuters local officials in Ukraine confirmed that critical infrastructure in the Lviv region was struck, with reporting pointing to a site such as the Stryi gas storage facility. (This site has been hit several times before by Russian aerial attacks.) The broader barrage reportedly involved large numbers of missiles and drones, producing casualties and infrastructure disruption elsewhere, including Kyiv. 

The strike also arrived wrapped in narrative. Russia claimed the launch was retaliation for an alleged Ukrainian drone attack related to President Putin’s residence, a claim Ukraine denied. Whatever the truth of the pretext, the structure is familiar: an asserted provocation, then a reply framed as controlled escalation.

There is, however, an important uncertainty in the public record: whether the warheads used in the Lviv region were inert or explosive. Some reporting indicated inert warheads, while a Reuters explainer published the same day described the January 2026 launch as the first known operational use with explosive payloads. The truth is unknown but the safest conclusion is that, at the time of writing, reporting is mixed, and what matters strategically is that Russia chose to employ the system again, in a geographically and politically charged part of Ukraine.

Why Russia uses Oreshnik sparingly

If Oreshnik were simply a more efficient way to cause destruction, one would expect repeated use. Instead, she has appeared rarely. That scarcity is itself part of the weapon’s function.

1. Inventory and cost

   
   

   Strategic-class systems are expensive, production is slower and the number of deployable missiles may be limited. Scarcity encourages theatrical deployment: a rare weapon is easier to mythologise.

   
   

2. Signalling value

   
   

   A weapon used rarely can be reserved for moments when Russia wants to alter the psychological temperature of the war: to complicate diplomatic moves, to warn allied capitals or to reassert escalation dominance. The January 2026 strike was widely interpreted as a warning aimed at Ukraine’s partners as peace-talk discussions continue and European security debates are sharpened. 

   
   

3. The air defence problem as strategy

   
   

   Even if Oreshnik does not always produce greater physical damage than other missiles, it may force Ukraine to contemplate an air defence problem that is hard to solve quickly. Reports describe the system as fast and difficult to intercept, and its multi-warhead design potentially increases the burden on defenders. In practical terms, this can redirect scarce interceptors away from other threats, or simply create gaps by saturating tracking and engagement processes.

What the two strikes reveal about Russian intent

Taken together, Dnipro (2024) and Lviv region (2026) point to three overlapping intentions.

First, to keep the nuclear shadow alive without crossing the nuclear threshold. Nuclear-capable delivery systems used conventionally allow Russia to hint at escalation while maintaining plausible deniability about nuclear intent. This is intimidation by association.

Secondly, to internationalise fear. Dnipro spoke to Ukraine. Lviv speaks to Europe. A strike near the EU and NATO frontier is not only about Ukrainian infrastructure; it is also about reminding neighbouring states that proximity matters and that the war can be made to feel uncomfortably close. 

Thirdly, to weaponise uncertainty. With both strikes, information about payload configuration, effectiveness and even precise designation has been contested or unclear. That ambiguity is strategically useful. It keeps publics anxious, complicates policy debates and allows the Kremlin to overstate capability while leaving analysts arguing about the facts.

What Oreshnik changes, and what it does not

Oreshnik does not change the basic arithmetic of this war: artillery, drones, attrition and industrial capacity still decide most outcomes. Yet it changes the atmosphere in which those outcomes are pursued.

For Ukraine the central problem is not only the physical damage but the stress on air defence planning and civil resilience. A weapon that is difficult to intercept and arrives with short warning time forces hard choices: which assets to protect, which regions to prioritise and how to conserve interceptors for the next barrage.

For Ukraine’s partners the missile’s significance lies in escalation management. Each use is a reminder that Russia retains options that can be deployed to shape diplomatic timelines, unsettle electorates and test allied risk tolerance, particularly when peace processes or security guarantees are being discussed. 

And for Russia, Oreshnik offers a way to claim initiative. Even if its military utility is debatable, the Kremlin can present each launch as proof of technological superiority and strategic freedom of action. That story is aimed both outward, at NATO, and inward, at domestic audiences.

The human meaning behind the technical spectacle

It is easy, in the discussion of Mach numbers and warhead numbers, to lose sight of what a strategic strike does to daily life. Western Ukraine has been a place where displaced families have rebuilt routines, where businesses try to function, where the war sometimes used to feel distant enough to be survivable. A strike in the Lviv region is a deliberate puncturing of that psychological geography: it tells civilians that there is no truly safe rear and that even the infrastructure of heat, light and transit can be targeted.

That is why Oreshnik matters even if it is used rarely (and we do not know how quickly Russia can construct each new missile). Its function is to concentrate dread. It is a reminder that modern war is fought not only against armies but against expectations of normality.