
It is difficult for a technological field like ours to find itself entangled in political turmoil. Science likes to think of itself as apolitical. Of course, it is not, but it has managed to hide under the veil of scientific research for a long time. Space science and technology have done the same for decades. But now that space enjoys a new economic dimension and the world has entered an era of incendiary political instability, we can no longer pretend that our role is confined to studying lunar regolith or measuring the Martian atmosphere. We cannot be important and relevant when it suits us, only to retreat and shrink from political responsibilities when they come knocking at our door.
A Step Back
January 2022: Following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, ESA discontinues all cooperative activities with Russia. Similarly, the British company OneWeb is invited to stop launching satellites with Soyuz, the U.K. government calling continued cooperation “inappropriate.”
(ESA Press Release: Redirecting ESA Programmes in Response to Geopolitical Crisis) (BBC: UK Ends Launch Collaboration with Russia)
January 2025: At the Brussels European Space Conference, European space leaders reaffirm their commitment to continued collaboration with the U.S. on Artemis, the Gateway, and other existing NASA partnerships.
February 2025: Donald Trump suggests that Ukraine might as well become Russian—“In the end, they fought for it.” (CNN: Trump Comments on Ukraine)
February 2025: J.D. Vance speaks at the Munich Security Conference—one of the world’s most prestigious military and defense summits—and declares that Europe is suppressing free speech, “censoring citizens, closing churches, and canceling elections.” (The latter referring to the cancellation of the Romanian presidential election in 2023 by then-President Klaus Iohannis.) (BBC: Romania’s Canceled Election)
The Old Playbook: How Fascism Creeps Back in Through the Front Door
Anyone who has listened to Vance’s speech in full—or even the seven minutes widely shared on X—will notice that it was not truly aimed at the broader international political landscape. Instead, it was directed at an American audience, pushing his usual domestic agenda: restricting abortion rights, ensuring that ultra-right-wing parties maintain a platform on social media, and reinforcing the dominance of conservative Christianity. But he didn’t stop there. He met with Alice Weidel, leader of the far-right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), and Chancellor Scholz’s firm response on Sunday made Germany’s stance on Vance’s intervention unmistakably clear.
Countries that have experienced fascism firsthand—Italy, Germany, Spain—should recognize the rhetoric. We often imagine the early signs of fascism arriving in the form of a skinhead with a swastika tattooed on their forehead. But that’s not how it begins. Fascism starts with words—polished, pragmatic-sounding appeals to ‘democracy,’ ‘freedom of speech,’ and ‘Christian values.’ It presents itself as reasonable, even necessary, until its economic failures inevitably surface. At that point, rather than confronting the complexities of global markets and governance, it turns to easier targets: personal freedoms, immigrants, marginalized communities. It replaces economic solutions with social control.
This pattern has played out so many times throughout history that one wonders if we even deserve an alien invasion to finally put an end to our collective amnesia. But the question remains: what gives the Trump administration and figures like J.D. Vance the confidence to push their views on women, religion, and governance straight into the heart of Europe—at a security conference, no less?
Space Technology: The Power Behind Vance’s Confidence
Technology plays a fundamental role in warfare and supremacy. We have seen this in Ukraine, where one of the key factors enabling resistance against Russia has been access to Starlink. SpaceX’s privately owned fleet of over 7,000 low-Earth orbit (LEO) satellites has provided Ukraine with fast, encrypted battlefield communications. Starlink is private. Starlink is owned by Elon Musk. And Elon Musk is deeply intertwined with the Trump administration.
Why should we passively watch the resurgence of rhetoric that challenges the very values we claim to uphold, while deepening our technological dependence on those who tolerate it?
Modern warfare depends on communication—on reconnaissance, intelligence, and real-time data sharing. The ability to transmit gigabytes of data via satellite instead of relying on vulnerable terrestrial infrastructure is a critical military advantage. Europe, due to decades of technological stagnation, has failed to invest in LEO constellations, leaving the UK’s OneWeb as the only European LEO-equipped alternative. Europe is making some progress with IRIS², but the gap remains massive. The U.S. has a decisive lead, and we cannot blame them for that. They have invested; we did not.
But if European governments rely on Starlink for secure communications, they are effectively handing the keys to their strategic infrastructure to a private entity with direct ties to an increasingly volatile U.S. political landscape. This is why Italy’s reported €1.5 billion deal with SpaceX for encrypted government communications caused such controversy. Handing over control of sensitive government data to a third party—especially one owned by Musk, a volatile actor allied with even more unpredictable political forces—is a severe risk. If Europe continues down this path, it will be a tacit admission of its inability to safeguard its own sovereignty.
Why Are We Still Collaborating with the U.S.?
When Putin invaded Ukraine, the European space sector swiftly cut ties with Russia. Now, as the U.S. signals a shifting stance on Ukraine, should we not also take a moment to reassess our strategic dependencies and ensure that our partnerships truly reflect our values?
Consider this: an American politician arrives in a European city, meets with the leader of a far-right, anti-Europe German party (a party so extreme that its own founder, Bernd Lucke, distanced himself due to its pro-Russian and anti-Western stance), and delivers a speech eerily reminiscent of the 1930s. And yet, just weeks ago in Brussels, when asked whether we would continue space cooperation with the U.S. despite Musk’s growing political entanglements, European leaders hurried to reaffirm their commitment. And now, this—a moment that should prompt serious reflection.
Space must be a tool for ensuring that Europe remains a global leader in both technology and democratic ideals.
For too long, Europe has relied on the U.S. for security, assuming it would push back against threats like Putin while we remained in the background. But in light of recent events, we must ask: why should we passively watch the resurgence of rhetoric that challenges the very values we claim to uphold, while deepening our technological dependence on those who tolerate it? If we justified severing space ties with Russia over Ukraine, why should we accept alignment with a partner whose stance is becoming increasingly unpredictable? If continued cooperation with the U.S. is non-negotiable, then why not reassess our stance toward Russia or China? What exactly is stopping us from having a serious, strategic conversation about the future of our alliances?
The answer, though difficult to accept, is already known: Europe’s strategic autonomy is fragile, and if we do not act decisively, we risk losing it entirely. If that is the reality we face, then we must acknowledge it, invest in strengthening our independence, and prepare for the challenges ahead. It would be far more reassuring to hear serious, forward-looking discussions about this at the next European space conference—rather than narratives that feel increasingly disconnected from the geopolitical landscape.
Europe, as always, is shaped by institutions and technocrats. But in moments of uncertainty, leadership must come not just from policymakers but from all of us—scientists, engineers, decision-makers—who recognize the role space can play in securing Europe’s future. History has shown that when leadership vacuums form, they are too often filled by those who exploit uncertainty for their own ends. We don’t need external figures defining our path. We need European values—rooted in history and the lessons of the past—to guide us. Space must be a tool for strengthening our sovereignty, for ensuring that Europe remains a global leader in both technology and democratic ideals.
This is what Europe stands for. And this is what it must continue to be.