Middle East

The Silent Threat : Overlooked Radiological Risk in the Red Sea and the Strait of Hormuz

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By Dr. Abdek Mahamoud Abdi

Introduction

Following American and Israeli strikes that killed Iran’s Supreme Leader on 28 February 2026, Iran’s naval forces have frequently declared the Strait of Hormuz closed, laid mines, and issued warnings that they would target unauthorized vessels. A ceasefire agreement on 14 June lasted only a few weeks. By late July, American strikes on Iran occurred almost every night, and tanker traffic through Hormuz had fallen well below pre-war levels. The Hormuz crisis has extended beyond the Gulf. On 20 July, the Houthis announced a naval blockade against Saudi Arabia, and two days later claimed responsibility for strikes on Saudi tankers, the Encelia and the Layla, in the Red Sea. Experts had long warned about this scenario. The simultaneous pressure on both chokepoints has now become a reality.

However, the focus on the Red Sea and Bab-el-Mandeb Strait mainly concerns conventional threats, such as anti-ship ballistic missiles, one-way attack drones, and waterborne explosive devices used by Houthi forces. Yet a lesser-discussed risk exists, which is diverting commercial radioactive material for use in a Radiological Dispersal Device, or dirty bomb. The security challenges in the Red Sea and the Strait of Hormuz, including radioactive cargo transportation, established smuggling networks, and limited naval resources, hinder the effectiveness of current maritime security measures.

Radiological Risk in Maritime Transport

The International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) classifies radioactive sources into five categories based on the potential harm they could cause if left unshielded. Category 1 and 2 sources, elements such as cobalt-60 and cesium-137 used in cancer treatment and industrial irradiators, could kill someone within minutes to hours of exposure.

According to a U.S. Government Accountability Office analysis of Countering Weapons of Mass Destruction (CWMD) risk assessments, Category 3 sources, commonly found in industrial gauges and well-logging equipment, are actually more likely to end up in a dirty bomb than Category 1 or 2 material. Not because they’re more dangerous, but because there are so many of them in ordinary commercial use, and the security around them is lighter. By contrast, Category 4 and 5 sources don’t have enough activity to pose much of a threat, even if fully dispersed. So when people talk about dirty bomb risk, the conversation should focus on Category 3.

The key concern, therefore, is not access to weapons-grade material but the possible misuse of legitimately used radioactive sources. From a security perspective, the consequences of such an incident could extend well beyond radiation exposure, potentially causing public panic, temporary disruption of affected areas, major economic losses, and costly decontamination operations. This disruption would result not from direct casualties but from strict international regulations and frameworks that require the immediate quarantine of any area with elevated radiation levels. Consequently, an attack targeting critical regional transport nodes would weaponize public anxiety to effectively paralyze maritime operations, transforming localized contamination into an indefinite, multi-billion-dollar trade bottleneck.

These sources are transported legally through the Red Sea corridor, including radiography equipment, well-logging tools, and medical isotopes destined for hospitals and industrial facilities across East Africa and the Middle East. That ordinary traffic is exactly what creates the opportunity for smugglers.

In the Strait of Hormuz, Iran’s fast-attack vessels pose significant risks to maritime navigation. The ongoing conflict has escalated this threat into open hostilities, involving the placement of mines and direct attacks on tankers. In addition, Houthi attacks on commercial shipping in the Red Sea have created a parallel security challenge, forcing vessels to reroute and increasing pressure on maritime-security forces. The volatility of this environment makes the seizure of such radioactive materials a starkly real possibility.

Even if no party deliberately attempts to get these radioactive materials for a planned attack, a conventional missile or mine hitting a standard commercial vessel carrying legal Category 3 cargo could breach its containment hulls. This would spill radioactive material directly into open waters or vital harbor shipping lanes, creating localized environmental hazards and forcing immediate, long-term closures of strategic maritime routes due to contamination fears. These developments demonstrate how security pressures in the Gulf and the Horn of Africa can interact and compound vulnerabilities across interconnected maritime routes.

Potential Diversion Vulnerability and Consequences

Research into sanctions evasion has documented a so-called dark fleet of tankers, predominantly transporting Russian and Iranian oil and liquefied natural gas (LNG), that manipulate or deactivate their automatic identification system (AIS) transponders and follow irregular and complex ownership structures and routes to conceal their activity and destination details. Coupled with the dhow smuggling routes between Yemen and the Somali coast, monitored by UN authorities over several years as channels for arms delivery to Houthi forces, these networks could just as readily facilitate the movement of a stolen radioactive source as weapons. Although no such case has yet been identified, the conditions are conducive to this possibility. Oversight vulnerabilities and well-established smuggling routes abound, while coalition naval forces are stretched across two active fronts.

If a ship carrying legally declared Category 3 material were boarded, disabled, or hit, its cargo could vanish before anyone could establish a perimeter, especially since coast guards and coalition ships are already strained by the Hormuz crisis. Adding naval mines and loitering munitions in shallow, crowded waters raises the chances of a hull breach that could release radioactive cargo into a port or fishing area. This scenario directly aligns with Iran’s asymmetric maritime doctrine, which weaponizes key global shipping routes to compensate for its conventional military disadvantages. Tehran has explicitly demonstrated its intent to enforce total maritime leverage. Notably, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) Navy recently reiterated its complete and decisive control over the Strait of Hormuz, warning that any vessel operating outside its authorized routes would face catastrophic consequences.

The IAEA monitors incidents involving nuclear and radioactive materials through its Incident and Trafficking Database. In 2025, 34 member states reported 236 incidents, up from 147 the previous year. The IAEA notes that most of this increase is due to late reports of older incidents, not an actual rise in trafficking, which is an important distinction when assessing trends. Since its inception in 1993, the database has recorded over 4,600 incidents, including about 730 involving theft or attempted theft. Importantly, approximately 55 percent of these thefts occurred during transport rather than storage.

Regarding the Red Sea specifically, the genuine threat does not lie in the possibility of Houthi-affiliated groups attempting to develop nuclear weapons. Such an endeavor necessitates resources and expertise that no non-state actor in the region currently possesses. The credible threat involves Houthi-affiliated groups, or other criminal networks operating within the same domain or zone, gaining access to an unsecured Category 1 to 3 radioactive source via channels already used for trafficking other illicit items. While the integration of radiological materials into maritime weaponry by Houthi forces remains an unverified capability, the operational motive and territorial precedents within the Yemeni conflict zone are well-established. Security assessments have long flagged the vulnerability of Yemen’s domestic infrastructure. As early as 2010, international intelligence raised alarms regarding the lack of physical security at a centralized Yemeni radiological facility which housed significant quantities of industrial and medical isotopes. This vulnerability underscored a persistent fear that non-state actors could seize localized commercial sources to fashion a radiological dispersal device (RDD).

The integration of such materials into naval mines or drone payloads would represent a significant development, signifying a shift from traditional sea-denial weaponry to the deliberate use of radiological contamination. To date, publicly available information does not confirm that this has been achieved. While not yet realized, the threat remains an area of grave concern, and should thus be communicated and addressed accordingly.

A radiological dispersal device detonated at key logistic regional hubs such as Djibouti or Jeddah would likely not result in a substantial number of fatalities directly attributable to radiation exposure. However, Djibouti serves as the operational logistics hub for foreign naval coalitions protecting the Bab-el-Mandeb and operating in the Red Sea, while Jeddah represents Saudi Arabia’s primary economic gateway on the Red Sea. Targeting these mega-terminals allows asymmetric actors to simultaneously disrupt U.S. military support and operations in the region, and inflict severe regional pressure. Consequently, it could nonetheless compel operators to suspend terminal operations for an extended period due to decontamination procedures, incurring costs to shipping, insurance, and regional commerce amounting to billions.

Recommendations for Radiological Maritime Security

Maritime security in the region remains predominantly focused on intercepting missiles and drones. There is limited insight into the actual movement of radioactive materials. The following three measures could help improve the current response to the crisis:

Expand radiation detection capabilities to smaller and informal ports. The United States National Nuclear Security Administration’s Megaports Initiative currently equips major seaports, including several in the Middle East, with radiation portal monitors and trained personnel. Extending similar coverage, including mobile units, to secondary ports in the Red Sea and Gulf of Aden, as well as dhow landing sites, would address a significant gap.

Enhance due diligence concerning the logistics of radioactive sources. Shipping and logistics companies operating in higher-risk jurisdictions should verify the recipients of Category 1 to 3 materials. This should build upon the cradle-to-grave principle outlined in the IAEA Code of Conduct, with support from the IAEA’s Division of Nuclear Security and its physical protection advisory missions where applicable.

Incorporate radiological threat scenarios into existing crisis planning. The Combined Maritime Forces, via Combined Task Force 153 in coordination with Operation Prosperity Guardian (a U.S.-led multinational coalition established to protect merchant shipping and counter asymmetric attacks in the Red Sea) and EUNAVFOR Operation Aspides, should incorporate defensive scenarios involving a radiological dispersal device (dirty bomb) into their maritime frameworks and joint exercises with regional states such as Djibouti, Saudi Arabia, and Egypt. This proactive approach ensures the development of a response plan before an incident occurs

The Red Sea and the Strait of Hormuz can no longer be evaluated solely in terms of missile, drone, or cyber risks. This conflict has already demonstrated that disruptions at one strategic chokepoint can spread to others. The Houthi blockade against Saudi shipping, which occurred within weeks of the closure of the Strait of Hormuz, serves as evidence of this phenomenon. Diverting commercial radioactive materials would be a cost-effective and rational subsequent step within this pattern, even though such an action has not yet been undertaken.

For nations situated at this critical juncture, particularly Djibouti, Egypt and Saudi Arabia, developing a comprehensive radiological risk management framework is no longer a mere formality but an essential measure to ensure their national security and the continued operation of global maritime trade.

Dr. Abdek Mahamoud Abdi is an independent consultant in environmental and social safeguards, climate finance, blue economy and energy security, working across East Africa and the Middle East. He holds a Ph.D. in Global Engineering for Development, Environment and Society from the Tokyo Institute of Technology, with additional postgraduate certifications in nuclear safety, maritime environmental risk, and the blue economy.

Featured image: U.S. Marines and Sailors assigned to the 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit transport a simulated casualty across the flight deck of the amphibious assault ship USS Boxer (LHD 4) during a chemical, biological, radiological, and nuclear response drill while underway in the East China Sea, Oct. 5, 2024. (U.S. Marine Corps photo by Cpl. Luis Agostini)

Middle East

Stepping Stones to Security: Pacifying the Tunb Islands

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By Frank Bell

Introduction

Abu Musa, Greater Tunb, and Lesser Tunb occupy positions of strategic importance disproportionate to their size. Situated near the Strait of Hormuz, the three islands provide forward positions for surveillance, missiles, unmanned systems, and maritime interdiction. A territorial dispute dating back more than five decades has become part of the military architecture, and the ongoing war between the United States and Iran, surrounding one of the world’s most important maritime chokepoints.

This creates a problem separate from sovereignty. If forces operating from disputed territory threaten commercial navigation or neighboring states during an armed conflict, destroying those forces may solve the immediate tactical problem without solving the longer-term security problem. Weapons can be replaced. Abandoned positions can be reoccupied. Suppression can interrupt coercion without eliminating the geographic advantage that made it possible.

The United States should degrade Iran’s ability to defend and employ Abu Musa, Greater Tunb, and Lesser Tunb as military positions. Afterwards, an Arab-led coalition should temporarily administer and demilitarize the islands while U.S. military power remains available as an external deterrent. Such an arrangement could prevent the regeneration of Iranian maritime coercive capabilities without determining the islands’ ultimate sovereignty.

The purpose would be limited: pacify the islands without annexing them and create conditions under which responsibility for security in the Strait can pass to the regional states that depend upon it.

Geography, Sovereignty, and Militarization

The dispute over Abu Musa, Greater Tunb, and Lesser Tunb predates the establishment of the United Arab Emirates (UAE) in 1971. Before federation, the individual emirates conducted their territorial affairs under British protection. Sharjah claimed Abu Musa, while Ras al-Khaimah claimed Greater and Lesser Tunb. Sharjah became one of the six founding emirates of the UAE on December 2, 1971; Ras al-Khaimah joined the federation the following year. The UAE subsequently inherited and has maintained those territorial claims.1

The circumstances surrounding Iran’s assumption of control differed between Abu Musa and the Tunbs. As Britain prepared to end its treaty relationships with the Trucial States and withdraw its military presence from the Gulf, it sought settlements between Iran and the Arab rulers. Sharjah reached a last-minute memorandum of understanding with Iran concerning Abu Musa. Neither party surrendered its sovereignty claim, but the agreement permitted Iranian forces to occupy designated areas while Sharjah retained a presence on the island.2

No comparable agreement was reached over Greater and Lesser Tunb. On November 30, 1971, two days before the UAE was formally established, Iranian forces landed on the Tunbs after negotiations with Ras al-Khaimah failed. Armed resistance occurred on Greater Tunb and casualties resulted. Iran regarded the action as the restoration of Iranian sovereignty; the Arab side regarded it as a forcible seizure. Iran has controlled the islands since.3

The distinction remains important. Iran’s initial military presence on Abu Musa resulted from a negotiated arrangement that deliberately left sovereignty unresolved. Its control of Greater and Lesser Tunb followed military action without a comparable agreement with Ras al-Khaimah. Today, the UAE maintains the claims inherited through Sharjah and Ras al-Khaimah, while Iran claims sovereignty over all three islands.

Their contemporary strategic importance derives as much from geography as sovereignty. The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) has used the islands as military positions within Iran’s wider defense network surrounding Hormuz.4 Independent reporting has documented IRGC garrisons and military infrastructure on the islands, while recent U.S. military operations identified coastal-defense systems and cruise-missile storage and launch facilities on Greater Tunb among targets associated with threats to commercial navigation.5

This does not mean every component of Iran’s maritime-denial network is deployed on every island. Their significance comes from their contribution to a wider system of surveillance, missiles, unmanned systems, air defense, and maritime forces extending along Iran’s southern coast and into the approaches to Hormuz.

The three islands are also not identical military positions. Abu Musa is the most significant from a civilian standpoint, with a resident population generally estimated at around 2,000 alongside Iranian military facilities. Greater Tunb has a much smaller civilian footprint and an Iranian military presence, while Lesser Tunb is effectively a military outpost. Reliable public estimates of the current strength of the Iranian garrisons on the islands are scarce.6

That uncertainty matters in considering military options. Removing an isolated and degraded garrison presents a very different problem from assaulting intact defensive positions. Operations involving Abu Musa would also have to account for its civilian population. Intelligence on surviving forces, civilians, and island defenses would therefore shape how pacification was attempted.

The islands are thus two things at once: disputed territory whose sovereignty remains unresolved and military terrain capable of affecting international navigation. A workable policy must address the latter without pretending to resolve the former.

From Suppression to Pacification

Military action can destroy a missile launcher, radar installation, or drone facility. It cannot determine what happens to the position afterward.

If military infrastructure on the islands were neutralized during a wider conflict and Iranian forces subsequently returned, the problem could regenerate. New systems could replace those destroyed. Surveillance could resume. Fortifications could be rebuilt.

The policy question therefore extends beyond whether the islands constitute legitimate military targets during a conflict. It is what security arrangement should follow their neutralization. Simply destroying military installations provides suppression. It does not necessarily provide security.

Pacification describes the desired condition, not a prescribed method of assault. An opposed amphibious seizure by the United States should not be the automatic next step after strikes against the islands. Once a garrison has been isolated and its military capabilities sufficiently degraded, surviving personnel could first be offered an opportunity to surrender. If they refused, continued isolation, additional strikes, a raid, or ultimately seizure would remain options depending upon conditions at the time.

The distinction is important because territorial possession is not the strategic objective; denial of renewed military use is. Coalition forces do not require the islands as bases for further operations. The requirement is to remove the IRGC military presence and infrastructure and prevent the islands from again becoming forward positions for maritime coercion.

Temporary administration offers a middle course between restoring the military status quo and using military victory to impose a territorial settlement. Military systems could be removed or destroyed, remilitarization prohibited and monitored, and competing sovereignty claims preserved for peaceful resolution.

The strategic benefit is not simply the destruction of weapons. It is denying the positions from which those weapons can repeatedly return.

This also gives the operation an endpoint. Once the IRGC military presence has been removed, the islands demilitarized, and safeguards against renewed military use established, direct American control would be unnecessary. The result would be narrower than conquest but more durable than suppression.

Legal and Diplomatic Obstacles

The proposal carries substantial legal and diplomatic risks.

Iran exercises effective control over the islands while the UAE maintains sovereignty claims. A military operation followed by an externally imposed administration could be interpreted as an attempt to alter territorial control through force rather than as a limited maritime-security measure.

Any temporary authority would need narrow limits. Participation could not confer sovereignty. Existing territorial claims would remain intact. The authority would be responsible for security, demilitarization, essential civil functions, and protection of civilian property and economic activity.

Regional governments may support the security objective while remaining wary of any mechanism that appears to transfer disputed territory through military action. Legitimacy will depend heavily on Arab state participation, preservation of the competing sovereignty claims, and a credible endpoint.

Without that endpoint, temporary administration risks becoming occupation by another name.

Who Governs the Islands?

Several administrative models are possible, but replacing Iranian military control with indefinite American administration would defeat the purpose of the proposal.

United Nations administration would offer formal international legitimacy but could prove politically difficult to establish. A broader multinational coalition would provide greater operational flexibility, yet an administration dominated by outside powers could gradually assume the characteristics of an open-ended foreign occupation.

An Arab-led regional coalition deserves greater consideration. Gulf states could provide the principal administrative and security presence following demilitarization, supported where useful by international observers and technical personnel. No participating state would exercise sovereignty through the coalition, and any forces deployed on the islands would remain limited to security, monitoring, and enforcement of demilitarization.

The UAE would necessarily have an important role because of its sovereignty claims, but participation should not itself constitute recognition of those claims. Involving other Arab states would help distinguish regional security administration from simply transferring disputed territory from one claimant to another.

The underlying principle is straightforward: security on the Arab side of the Gulf should increasingly become an Arab responsibility. American military power should support regional security institutions rather than substitute for them indefinitely. An Arab-led coalition administering the islands, supported by regional maritime forces and backed by American deterrence, would reflect that division of responsibility.

The United States would not need to administer or permanently garrison the islands. Its more useful role would remain outside them. American naval and air forces operating in the wider region could provide intelligence, surveillance, logistics, and credible deterrence against remilitarization without transforming the islands into permanent American bases.

An Iranian attempt to return personnel and military equipment would therefore become a problem of detecting and denying remilitarization, rather than necessarily defending the islands against a conventional counter-invasion.

The coalition would administer and monitor the islands. Regional states would increasingly secure the surrounding maritime environment. American military power would remain available as a strategic backstop.

This arrangement offers an alternative to abandoning the islands after destroying their military infrastructure or turning a limited security operation into an indefinite American occupation.

The Strait After Pacification

The consequences would extend beyond the islands.

The Strait of Hormuz is both a military operating environment and a commercial artery. Changes in its security posture affect naval calculations, shipping schedules, chartering decisions, insurance premiums, energy markets, and perceptions of regional risk.

Removing offensive military infrastructure from forward positions could reduce one source of uncertainty confronting commercial operators. Demilitarization would not eliminate the wider risks of conflict with Iran or guarantee unrestricted navigation. It could, however, reduce the ability to use the islands for surveillance, interdiction, or attacks against maritime traffic.

Greater regional responsibility for maritime security need not mean American disengagement. U.S. naval power, intelligence, logistics, and deterrence would remain important, but in support. American military action would create the conditions for an Arab-led regional security arrangement rather than becoming the arrangement itself.

The islands’ eventual disposition could also reshape the longer-term balance of maritime influence within Hormuz, particularly by limiting the ability of any single coastal state—or combination of states—to impose unilateral conditions upon commercial transit. Decisions made during a conflict could influence the maritime balance for decades afterward.

How Does It End?

The credibility of temporary administration depends upon a simple question: temporary until when?

An arbitrary deadline says little about whether the security problem has been resolved. Termination should instead be conditions-based.

Those conditions could include removal of offensive military infrastructure, a durable monitoring regime, limitations on future military deployments, sufficient regional capacity to maintain the security arrangement, and an accepted diplomatic or legal process through which sovereignty claims can proceed without threatening freedom of navigation.

Once those conditions are satisfied, the temporary authority should leave.

The aim is not permanent foreign control or indefinite demilitarization enforced by American troops. Temporary administration provides a bridge between military action and political settlement.

Conclusion

Abu Musa, Greater Tunb, and Lesser Tunb present a strategic problem that military strikes alone cannot resolve. Offensive systems can be destroyed and military forces removed, but neither action prevents strategically valuable positions from being rebuilt and used again.

Temporary administration offers one possible bridge between military necessity and political settlement. Properly structured, it would neither determine sovereignty nor require permanent American occupation. Its narrower purpose would be to deny renewed IRGC military use while shifting responsibility for the islands’ security toward regional states.

The larger principle extends beyond these islands. Military operations around strategic maritime chokepoints should be judged not only by whether they destroy an immediate threat, but by whether the security arrangement that follows prevents that threat from returning.

If cleared during military operations in support of its war against Iran, the Tunbs and Abu Musa should not become permanent American positions, nor should their ultimate ownership be decided by the United States.

The objective is to pacify the positions, secure the maritime approaches, transfer responsibility to a sustainable Arab-led regional security arrangement, and leave sovereignty to diplomacy.

In that sense, these small islands could become stepping stones—not toward occupation, but toward a more durable security order in the Strait of Hormuz.

Francis J. Bell is a graduate of Temple University’s Fox School of Business. He works as a private consultant with interests in strategy and international security. His writing focuses on maritime doctrine, deterrence, and emerging operational concepts.

References

1. United Arab Emirates, “Letter dated 23 October 2014 from the Permanent Representative of the United Arab Emirates to the United Nations addressed to the Secretary-General,” S/2014/759, October 24, 2014; United Arab Emirates, “Letter dated 14 March 2016 from the Permanent Representative of the United Arab Emirates to the United Nations addressed to the Secretary-General,” S/2016/245, March 16, 2016. The UAE communications maintain the claims to Abu Musa, Greater Tunb, and Lesser Tunb and describe the historical claims of Sharjah and Ras al-Khaimah.

2. U.S. Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1969–1976, vol. XXIV, Middle East Region and Arabian Peninsula, 1969–1972; Jordan, September 1970, documents concerning British negotiations over Abu Musa and the Tunbs; United Arab Emirates, “Letter dated 23 October 2014,” S/2014/759. The latter reproduces the 1971 Memorandum of Understanding concerning Abu Musa, which preserved the competing claims while providing for an Iranian military presence in designated areas. Contemporary U.S. diplomatic records show Britain pressing Sharjah and Ras al Khaimah to reach accommodations with Iran before British withdrawal.

3. U.S. Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1969–1976, vol. XXIV, documents concerning the Persian Gulf islands dispute, 1971; United Arab Emirates, “Letter dated 23 October 2014,” S/2014/759. Contemporary diplomatic records document the failure to obtain an agreement over the Tunbs and Britain’s inability to compel Ras al Khaimah to relinquish its claim.

4. Jon Gambrell, “3 Islands Help Control Access to the Strait of Hormuz. They’re in the Crosshairs of the Iran War,” Associated Press, July 16, 2026. Gambrell describes Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps garrisons and military infrastructure on the islands, including missiles, fast boats, and air-defense systems on Abu Musa and Greater Tunb and a military presence on Lesser Tunb.

5. U.S. Central Command Public Affairs, “CENTCOM Conducts Morning Round of Strikes Against Iran,” Defense Visual Information Distribution Service, July 15, 2026. CENTCOM reported using precision munitions against coastal-defense systems and cruise-missile storage and launch sites on Greater Tunb and stated that the strikes were intended to degrade Iran’s ability to attack commercial shipping in the Strait of Hormuz.

6. Gambrell, “3 Islands Help Control Access to the Strait of Hormuz.” Recent reporting describes Abu Musa as containing a village alongside a substantial IRGC base, Greater Tunb as possessing comparable Iranian military infrastructure, and Lesser Tunb as having only a military presence. Reliable open-source estimates of current garrison strength remain limited.

Featured image: Abu Musa, Greater Tunb, and Lesser Tunb and the surrounding maritime approaches. Author-generated illustration created using multiple geographic references. Not for navigation. (Courtesy of Frank Bell)

Space

Space Cowboys and Cyber Pirates, Part II

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By Christopher Rice

Space-based technology empowers American leadership—economic, cultural, and military.  Further, as Part I of this essay noted, the nation’s rivals have made significant investments towards targeting the vulnerabilities of her space sectors, both in orbit and online.  Part II will outline current space cybersecurity policy at the national level and identify some of its risks.  Finally, this essay will suggest another way for American policymakers to secure the nation’s space infrastructure:  a renewed system of letters of marque and reprisal empowering American space and cyber firms to better protect themselves.

Fortress America?

The emphasis competitors have placed on contesting American space dominance has not gone unnoticed in American policy-making circles.  Recent policy documents have reflected the importance of space systems and their related cyber and information infrastructure to American economic and military success.  While such policy measures are certainly a step in the right direction, the current policy structure encodes structural weaknesses and ambiguities that threaten the security of the commercial space sector, and national security more broadly.

The United States has long recognized the importance of space systems in maintaining its national security; however, attention to cyber threats is comparatively new.  Broad support for space development within the U.S. government stretches back to the Eisenhower administration.1  In contrast, the Department of Defense did not produce a comprehensive cybersecurity plan until 2011.2  In the decade since, American policymakers have struggled to keep pace with accelerating technology development and proliferating, network-borne threats.

American space operations have a reasonably strong base in government policy and have received high-profile attention in recent years.  The Trump Administration’s series of Space Policy Directives (SPD) offer a helpful foundation for understanding the importance of American space infrastructure and the threats it faces.  The seven directives cover a variety of topics from space traffic management to the establishment of the Space Force.  The directives most relevant to the security of American space systems are SPD-5 and SPD-7. 

SPD-5 establishes a basic policy framework for space cybersecurity.  It notes that space systems are vulnerable to cyber and information attacks throughout their lifecycles, from supply chain through design, construction, and launch, as well as in operation.3  Every stage of a satellite’s lifecycle is controlled through complex information networks, offering hostile actors a profusion of potential vectors through which to attack.  In response to such thoroughgoing vulnerability, the directive goes on to call for space system owners and operators “to collaborate to promote the development of best practices, to the extent permitted by applicable law,” while also “shar[ing] threat, warning, and incident information within the space industry.”4  This emphasis on cooperation is a necessary precondition of securing U.S. space infrastructure.

SPD-7’s focus is sharper, centering on importance of the U.S. Global Positioning System (GPS) constellation.  SPD-7 identifies the “widespread and growing dependence on GPS by military, civil, and commercial applications, systems, and infrastructure” and the critical role of GPS in maintaining situational awareness in space itself.5  It further emphasizes the interconnectedness of space systems, information, and security, by identifying the threat of navigation warfare (NAVWAR).  Mirroring aspects of  Chinese thinking on informationized warfare, NAVWAR “refers to the deliberate defensive and offensive action to assure and prevent positioning, navigation, and timing information through coordinated employment of space, cyberspace, and electronic warfare.”6  SPD-7 also calls for increased attention to cyber and electromagnetic security measures to ensure the continued operation of the GPS constellation in the face of opponents’ NAVWAR efforts.7  While the SPD series is not the first set of government policies concerning space and information security, it does provide valuable insights into current U.S. policy thinking.

Other policy documents help further define the current U.S. approach to ensuring the security of its space infrastructure in the face of information threats.  The 2017 National Security Strategy identifies both space and cyberspace as key security sectors, calling for the greater attention to maintaining American leadership in space and development of enhanced cyber “attribution, accountability, and response” abilities.8  The DOD’s 2018 Cyber Strategy acknowledges the importance of “defend[ing] forward to disrupt or halt malicious cyber activity at its source,  including activity that falls below the level of armed conflict.”9  Given the tremendous interpenetration of networks and space systems into all aspects of American life and the proliferation of both human and artificially intelligent threats, there is simply no possibility of fortifying the nation completely against cyber-attack.  Instead, malign actors must be identified and actively deterred or defeated.  The 2020 National Space Policy builds on the aforementioned documents, reinforcing the importance of total-lifecycle cyber security, public-private and interagency collaboration, and resilience.10  These documents clearly illustrate the importance of space cyber security, but some critical vulnerabilities remain.

While seemingly resolute in its promotion of space cyber security, current U.S. policy remains dangerously vague in key areas.  First, U.S. policy is ambiguous about what actions might be authorized in response to hostile cyber action against American space systems or infrastructure.  Although current policy reflects the possibility of NAVWAR and identifies the systemic vulnerability of the space sector to cyber exploitation, it fails to set forth a range of possible responses.  It is even unclear whether the United States views cyber-attacks against critical infrastructure as more or less escalatory than a more traditional, kinetic attack on the same systems.  Compounding the ambiguity, U.S. policy fails to clarify the position of U.S. commercial space sector assets within American retaliatory decision making.  With U.S. firms providing everything from digital communication and imaging to the launch of GPS satellites, the commercial space sector is a source of irreplaceable capacity—and a high-payoff target to America’s enemies.11 

Ambiguity, like that built into U.S. space cybersecurity policy, may inadvertently invite miscalculation.  An opponent’s perception of American commitment matters: “if we[, the United States,] leave ourselves loopholes through which to exit—our opponent will expect us to be under strong temptation to make a graceful exit.”12  Given the critical importance of space in U.S. economic stability and national security, a graceful response to provocation may not be possible.  Although they may appear less threatening than other forms of conflict, cyber operations may be, as Thomas Schelling described limited war generally, “like fighting in a canoe. [Any] blow hard enough to hurt is in some danger of overturning the canoe.”13  The risk of aggression is magnified further because, unlike traditional means of limited warfare, cyber-attacks—especially those directed at space sector targets—need not involve the clarifying shock of bloodshed.  An opponent, like China whose views of deterrence are heavily shaded with coercion and fundamentally distinct from those of the United States, might see cyber action against American commercial space firms as both useful and minimally escalatory, only to be met by an unanticipated, forceful response.14  In such a situation, the ambiguity of American space cybersecurity policy inadvertently catalyzes dangerous escalation.  The risks of ambiguity are too high.  To preserve American leadership in space and establish more effective deterrence, policy makers must communicate more clearly.

The United States must ensure the security of critical space systems and infrastructure, whether government- or commercial-sector.  To close the nation’s space security gaps and reduce the risk of miscalculation by potential adversaries, America must begin to marshal the resources and design regulations to protect all of its space infrastructure, including the commercial space sector.  U.S. policy makers must identify the American commercial space sector’s networks and infrastructure as defended assets. 

Not All Smooth Sailing

While there are obvious advantages to a clearer and more expansive national space policy, there are also notable risks.  Critics might suggest that such a broad expansion of the number of defended entities will be prohibitively expensive or potentially hazardous in itself.  The United States government assuredly cannot actively secure every single computer terminal in every firm that participates in the commercial space industry and its suppliers.  While rigorous cybersecurity standards, like zero trust frameworks, are necessary across government and commercial sectors alike, they are unlikely to change an opponent’s risk calculus on their own.15

Across such an expansive and potentially porous ecosystem, a successful defense must rely on deterring threats before they attack.  Credibility is necessary for effective deterrence.  The capacity to deter an opponent is based on the “[t]he willingness to hurt, the credibility of a threat, and the ability to exploit the power to hurt.”16  Unfortunately, as incidents like the recent Colonial Pipeline hack suggest, the United States may not have the capacity to defend its critical non-space infrastructure now, much less to make credible a significant expansion of its defensive cyber perimeter to encompass the commercial sector.17  Worse, it remains unclear whether the government can gather the talent necessary to ensure security.  Although the defense establishment is beginning to take meaningful steps to attract personnel with high-value abilities, including cyber security and other high-tech skills, doubt remains.18  The average personnel cost of the active-duty force increased by 64% between 2000 and 2012—a period where counterinsurgency operations emphasized large numbers of comparatively affordable dismounted infantry.19  An exponential growth in demand for exquisitely-trained technical specialists may impose insurmountable financial demands on the all-volunteer force, given the intense competition to attract specialized talent playing out across the economy.  Worse, the establishment of an implausible threat could undermine the perceived sincerity of the United States’ other deterrence arrangements, leaving it in even greater danger than before. 

Navigating clear of these obstacles will not be easy, but it is nonetheless necessary.  Given the deep integration of commercial space infrastructure into all aspects of American life, there is simply no option.  A more limited approach will not meaningfully address the magnitude of the potential risks.  Efforts to secure a limited number of “trusted partners” in the commercial sphere will leave significant vulnerabilities within the space and space-cyber environment, leaving opponents free to threaten the entire ecosystem. 

Half-measures simply will not suffice, nor will business as usual.  As General Paul Nakasone, the former Commander of U.S. Cyber Command and Director of the National Security Agency, recently noted, America’s habitual approach to deterrence imagines a “‘binary world’ of ‘yes or no’ in regards to conflict.”20  While useful in managing the Cold War, this model is a poor fit for a world “where much of the nefarious activity — whether by nation-states, cybercriminal ransomware gangs, or other threat actors — plays out non-stop in an ambiguous strategic gray zone.”21  It is only a matter of time before threat actors turn their attention on America’s space industries with their growing economic value and central importance to national power.  The United States must identify a new approach that will enable it to simultaneously deter a multitude of threats each pursuing its own unique goals.

Luckily, there is a better way.  Policy makers can chart a new course, magnifying the impact of the limited resources available within the government itself, while still increasing the commercial sector’s security.  Just as maritime strategy—with its attention to the complex interrelations of sea, land, culture, technology, global politics, and economics22 across a hazardous domain that resists permanent control—offers a valuable model for visualizing interactions in space, American maritime history suggests a way to address the challenges of the nation’s future in space.23

Back to the Future

Although the threats to America’s space industries are many and capable, its commercial firms are hamstrung by federal law.  Under current U.S. law, American companies are limited to passive defense; they have no ability to take more proactive measures.  Companies are forbidden from conducting even the most basic back-tracing in response to hostile action.24  These restrictions create an environment full of soft targets and lay the burden for all but the most trivial cyber defense activities on the U.S. government.  Just as increasing the slope of an armor plate improves its protective capacity without requiring additional material and weight, resurrecting a time-obscured fragment of American law can provide a significant improvement in the nation’s security posture at minimal public cost.

A key to securing American space infrastructure can be found in the Constitution itself.  Article I, Section 8 authorizes the U.S. Congress to declare war and to establish regulations for the nation’s military forces, among other well-known powers.  It also gives legislators the ability to “grant Letters of Marque and Reprisal, and make Rules concerning Captures on Land and Water”—a little remembered power but one that has the potential to restore and even improve America’s position of leadership in space.25

A renewed system of letters of Marque and Reprisal offers a way to dramatically shift the cost structure of space and cyber warfare in America’s favor.  Letters of Marque and Reprisal are legal documents that “authorize private actors to seek international justice and use force in a public cause.”26  During the War of 1812, the United States issued letters of marque and reprisal to authorize American privateers, or privately-owned armed ships, to harass British vessels.27  While the British remained the dominant naval power, American privateers provided a valuable augmentation to America’s small navy.  Changes in the material demands of warfare made private entities acting on their own direction appear less beneficial in the intervening two centuries.28  However, a renewed system of letters of marque and reprisal can be used to magnify U.S. capability in space and cyberspace by empowering America’s vibrant high-tech industries to defend themselves.

The rebirth of letters of marque and reprisal would rapidly change the cost-benefit analysis of any hostile actor considering action against the United States.  Under such a system, private actors would have the legal authority to defend themselves, raising the cost of hostile action and, in some cases, likely deterring it completely.29  While maintaining international stability requires meaningful oversight and regulations governing the acceptable conduct of cyber or space privateers, even limited authorities would be a step in the right direction.  In the cyber domain, such authorities might consist of a tiered system of threat responses running from a mere trace-back identifying the source of an attack, through a blockade or sanction limiting traffic involving the hostile servers, to “employment of an electronic force as a countermeasure directed at the source of a cyberattack immediately terminating the attack or preventing it from attacking again.”30  These responses would be overseen by the modern equivalent of the prize courts that governed maritime privateers.  Instead of establishing legitimate ownership of seized property,31 these courts would ensure that American commercial cyber defense activities conform to proper evidentiary standards and relevant areas of the law of war.  With greater authority to defend themselves, American space- and cyber-technology companies would simultaneously impose greater risk of detection and threat of response on malign actors, reducing the attractiveness of cyber-attack. Although the construction of a fully established system of legitimate cyber privateering is beyond both the scope of this essay and the ability of its author, the utility of such a system—once wholly developed—appears clear.

The principles of letters of marque and reprisal apply to the space domain as well.  Given both the key role of space systems in maintaining networks and their vulnerability to network-based threats, cyber privateers would likely play a valuable role in a more integrated system of space infrastructure defense.  American commercial actors may be able to provide improved additional security for themselves and the nation in the physical domain as well.  Private companies could offer orbital security-as-a-service, utilizing constellations of small satellites to deny opponents the ability to endanger critical assets with direct ascent ASAT weapons or threatening RPO approaches.  Stronger physical measures, like the potential use of commercial space debris removal systems against threatening satellites, are likely limited by the 1967 Outer Space Treaty’s (OST) assignment of jurisdiction and control for orbiting objects to the state that launches and registers them.32  Yet, it is clear that many nations—and an increasing number of commercial players—have the capacity to weaponize their RPO capabilities, if not currently the intent.  Use of such systems before the outbreak of outright hostilities is certainly not in keeping with the spirit of reserving space for “peaceful purposes,” as the OST repeatedly insists.  The legitimacy of on-orbit counter-space operations in response to an overt hostile act in space is less clear.  In any case, a robust and responsive retaliatory capability remains a reliable means of raising the costs of aggression and upholding international law.  The dual-use orbital capabilities of America’s space and cyber technology sectors—if empowered by a well-regulated system of letters of marque and reprisal—can make an invaluable contribution to maintaining national security and global stability.

 Conclusion

Powering its vibrant economy and unsurpassed military capabilities, U.S. capacity in space is second to none, yet its vulnerability is equally peerless.  The borders of the U.S. space and cyber remain largely unpatrolled.  While efforts to develop and implement best practices are certainly valuable, they are not enough.  No wall can be built around America’s space industry to defend it from external threats, but no wall is truly necessary.  As Carl von Clausewitz noted, “the defensive form of war is not a simple shield, but a shield made up of well-directed blows.”33  The United States has the resources and talent to construct such a shield.  Letters of marque and reprisal are a time-proven approach to address today’s security challenges. 

As with their maritime forbearers in the Age of Sail, America’s unequaled high-technology industries have the talent and the capacity to contribute to securing their own perimeters.  The nation’s legal experts, civil servants, and diplomats are no less competent than those who fought for desegregation or implemented the Marshall Plan.  The nation can create a legal and diplomatic framework able to safeguard American security, while respecting the security of other nations and the principles of international law.

To do so, America must take stock not so much of its vulnerabilities, but of its incredible strengths.  It must unite the foresight and will to leverage those strengths with the courtesy and discipline to regard the safety of others.  In short, America must lead.  Should it choose to do so, American space and cyber industries will be, as its maritime economy once was, “the dagger which strikes at the heart of the enemy,” deterring aggression and upholding a stable, free world.34

Chris Rice is a US Army veteran. A graduate of the United States Military Academy and Georgetown University’s Security Studies Program, he has overseas experience in both South Korea and Afghanistan.

He works as a consultant in Northern Virginia, assisting in the delivery of critical technologies to the warfighter. When not at work,  Chris is typically cooking various dals for his wife and two children, carrying around a large bag full of sand, or (p)reenacting future battles with small, plastic robots.

References

1. Robert Pfaltzgraf, “Space and U.S. Security:  A Net Assessment,” X.

2. John T. Bennett, “Pentagon declares the Internet a war domain,” The Hill, July 14, 2011, https://thehill.com/policy/technology/171531-pentagon-declares-the-internet-a-domain-of-war.

3. Executive Office of the President, “Space Policy Directive-5—Cybersecurity Principles for Space Systems,”  https://trumpwhitehouse.archives.gov/presidential-actions/memorandum-space-policy-directive-5-cybersecurity-principles-space-systems/. 

4. Ibid.

5. Executive Office of the President, “Memorandum on Space Policy Directive-7,” https://trumpwhitehouse.archives.gov/presidential-actions/memorandum-space-policy-directive-7/.

6. Ibid.

7. Ibid.

8. Executive Office of the President, National Security Strategy, December 18, 2017, https://trumpwhitehouse.archives.gov/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/NSS-Final-12-18-2017-0905.pdf, 31-32.

9. U.S. Department of Defense, Summary:  Department of Defense Cyber Strategy 2018, September 18, 2018, https://media.defense.gov/2018/Sep/18/2002041658/-1/-1/1/CYBER_STRATEGY_SUMMARY_FINAL.PDF, 1.

10. Executive Office of the President, National Space Policy, 18-19.

11. Sandra Erwin, “Falcon 9 launches GPS satellite in first national security mission with reused booster,” Space News, June 17, 2021, https://spacenews.com/falcon-9-launches-gps-satellite-in-first-national-security-mission-with-reused-booster/.

12. Thomas C. Schelling, Arms and Influence (Kindle Edition), (New Haven, CT:  Yale University Press, 2008), 46.

13. Schelling, Arms and Influence, 123.

14. Cheng, Cyber Dragon, 16.

15. Scott Rose, Oliver Borchert, Stu Mitchell, and Sean Connelly, “NIST Special Publication 800-207:  Zero Trust Architecture,” National Institute of Standards and Technology, August 2020, https://doi.org/10.6028/NIST.SP.800-207, ii.

16. Schelling, Arms and Influence, 3.

17. David E. Sanger and Nicole Perlroth, “Pipeline Attack Yields Urgent Lessons About U.S. Cybersecurity,” New York Times, Updated June 8, 2021, https://www.nytimes.com/2021/05/14/us/politics/pipeline-hack.html.

18. Headquarters Marine Corps, “Talent Management 2030,” November 2021, https://www.hqmc.marines.mil/Portals/142/Users/183/35/4535/Talent%20Management%202030_November%202021.pdf?ver=E88HXGUdUQoiB-edNPKOaA%3D%3D, 9.

19. Seamus P. Daniels, “Accounting For The Costs Of Military Personnel,” War On The Rocks,  September 22, 2021, https://warontherocks.com/2021/09/accounting-for-the-costs-of-military-personnel/.

20. Brad D. Williams, “Nakasone: Cold War-style deterrence ‘does not comport to cyberspace,’” Breaking Defense, November 4, 2021, https://breakingdefense.com/2021/11/nakasone-cold-war-style-deterrence-does-not-comport-to-cyberspace/.

21. Williams, “Nakasone: Cold War-style deterrence ‘does not comport to cyberspace.’”

22. John J. Klein, “Corbett in Orbit,” Naval War College Review, Volume 57, Number 1 (Winter), 2004, https://digital-commons.usnwc.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=2073&context=nwc-review, 4.

23. Julian S. Corbett, Some Principles of Maritime Strategy, Project Gutenberg, https://www.gutenberg.org/files/15076/15076-h/15076-h.htm, 16, 91.

24. Michael T. Hopkins, “The Exceptionalist’s Approach to Private Sector Cybersecurity: A Marque and Reprisal Model,” George Washington University Law School, August 15, 2011, https://scholarspace.library.gwu.edu/concern/gw_etds/rf55z794d, 16

25. U.S. Const. art. I, § 8.

26. Theodore M Cooperstein, “Letters of Marque and Reprisal: The Constitutional Law and Practice of Privateering,” April 2009, http://citeseerx.ist.psu.edu/viewdoc/download?doi=10.1.1.1008.6588&rep=rep1&type=pdf, 45.

27. Jonathan L. Still, “Resurrecting Letters of Marque and Reprisal to Address Modern Threats,” United States Army War College, March 2012, https://apps.dtic.mil/sti/pdfs/ADA590294.pdf, 7.

28. Hopkins, “The Exceptionalist’s Approach to Private Sector Cybersecurity: A Marque and Reprisal Model,” 43.

29. Ibid., 88.

30. Ibid., 50, 52-54.

31. Ibid., 37.

32. “Treaty on Principles Governing the Activities of States in the Exploration and Use of Outer Space, including the Moon and Other Celestial Bodies,” opened for signature January 27, 1967, https://www.unoosa.org/oosa/en/ourwork/spacelaw/treaties/outerspacetreaty.html.

33. Carl Von Clausewitz, On War (Kindle Edition), (Princeton:  Princeton University Press, 1976), 357.

34. “Thomas Jefferson to James Monroe, 1 January 1815,” Founders Online, National Archives, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Jefferson/03-08-02-0150.

Featured image: Tracy Caldwell Dyson in the Cupola module of the International Space Station observing the Earth below during Expedition 24. (Wikimedia Commons)

Space

Space Cowboys and Cyber Pirates, Part I

2 Comments

By Christopher Rice

As the 2025 National Security Strategy notes, commercial and military space capabilities are one of the United States’ greatest geopolitical advantages.1  The nation’s civil, commercial, and military sectors have profited immensely from unrivaled incorporation of space-based capabilities.   However, competitors have identified weaknesses and shaped their strategic approaches to exploit them.  Worse still, although the U.S. civil, commercial, and military space communities are interrelated, the distinctions between them present malign actors with seams through which to hazard American security.  To compete successfully in space and retain its advantages in other domains the United States must establish a new, more integrated approach to securing its total space infrastructure—civil, commercial, and military alike—against attack in space or cyberspace. 

This essay makes the case for more coherent efforts to actively secure the nation’s space infrastructure, including the commercial space sector, against hostile action.  First, it will offer a discussion of the invaluable contributions of the U.S. commercial space sector.  Next, it will summarize the threats competing nations, specifically China, may choose to bring to bear against it.  In Part II, it will outline the current U.S. approach to space infrastructure security and identify risks built into that approach.  Finally, it will propose and defend one potential approach for maximizing the aggregate security of America’s space sectors while minimizing cost:  establishing a renewed system of letters of marque and reprisal to empower the civil sector to defend itself.

Space Cowboys—The U.S. Commercial Space Sector

The U.S. commercial space sector is an irreplaceable strategic asset to both the economy and national security broadly.   The Space Force’s Commercial Space Strategy recognizes that America’s strategic space environment is “driven, in part, by national security and civil needs.”2 However, “hybrid architectures” integrating commercial space capabilities offer improved capabilities and defray the costs of government investments. 3 American policy defines the commercial space sector as goods, services, or activities provided by private sector enterprises that bear “a reasonable proportion of the investment risk,” that are available for purchase, and governed by free market incentives.4 This definition covers a wide spectrum of systems and effects.  American commercial space firms offer world-leading capabilities across numerous sectors of space operations, including satellite manufacturing, satellite services, launch capacity, and ground equipment.5  The satellite services sector comprises the majority of the economic value of the space industry,6 providing products direct-to-home television, satellite communications, satellite radio, consumer broadband, and Earth observation.7  These services, along with satellite-based positioning, navigation, and timing (PNT) services, enable the network-connected experience of modern, American life.

The strength of U.S. companies in these fields has made the industry an invaluable part of American economic capacity, and its importance is likely only to grow further.  The U.S. commercial space industry generated $158 billion in 2016.8  In addition, the commercial space sector contributed to over 2 million American jobs.9  The commercial launch industry alone has undergone blinding growth, from a single commercial launch in 201110 to 48 launches in 2021.11  The global space economy is expected to nearly triple in value by 2040 from $400 billion to $1.1 trillion with American companies leading the way.12  The promise of rapid growth has drawn significant investment from American entrepreneurs.

The nature of satellite services makes separating commercial and military capabilities nearly impossible, and U.S. policies have further blurred the lines separating the communities. Common commercial services like “[s]atellite communication, remote sensing, and global positioning services are extensively used during the conduct of normal military operations.”13  Further, the Space Force’s consideration of a proposed Commercial Augmentation Space Reserve—while a reasonable acknowledgement of the critical role of commercial space in national security—will, if adopted, further obscure the divisions between military and commercial space sectors and elevate the value of American commercial space firms as military targets.14  Indeed, Russian posturing against Starlink for providing internet services to support Ukrainian command and control offers evidence of the geopolitical impacts of U.S. commercial space firms and a foretaste of the threats they might come to face.15  For powers contemplating hostile action against U.S. interests, denying the United States access to space-based capabilities will require targeting both government and commercial systems. 

Complicating matters yet more, the U.S. government is the largest global customer for commercial space services, consuming 23% of the global market.16 The Department of War purchases 80% of its satellite communication bandwidth from commercial providers.17  The U.S. government is also heavily reliant on the commercial sector for launch capacity. Government investment in heavy launch capacity began to flag after the explosion of the Space Shuttle Challenger in 1986.18  While commercial launch expanded briefly in the late 1990s, the United States failed to generate “significant investment in heavy lift launch until SpaceX, aided by NASA investments in 2008, brought the Falcon 9 to market.”19  This period of decay in U.S. space investment has made the government space communities—both civil and security—heavily dependent on commercial capabilities.  Such dependence on agents outside of the U.S. government’s direct control invites additional operational risk. The size and pace of growth within America’s commercial space industry magnifies the scope of potential vulnerabilities.  America’s competitors have prepared to exploit any potential weaknesses to the greatest extent possible.  

Cyber Pirates and Other Threats to U.S. Space Security

The tremendous value of the U.S. commercial space sector is not without risk.  As the Institute for Foreign Policy Analysis’s Space and US Security:  A Net Assessment notes, space-based capabilities like “early warning and strike capabilities . . . [as well as] critical communications and navigation support,” are invaluable for successful military operations.20  In the event of large-scale conflict, commercial space infrastructure will be a target.  These capabilities are also “intertwine[d] with the civilian sector[,]” meaning that “any effect on U.S. space-based capabilities carries national security implications and commercial consequences.”21  U.S. rivals have taken note of the importance of space capabilities in enabling its global military preeminence and have shaped their forces and doctrine to offset those capabilities.  While China is certainly not the only competitor to have shaped its capabilities to contest American dominance in space, its efforts offer a valuable example of broader trends.

As a rising power, China has benefited from years of observation of the American-maintained global order and formulated methods to target its vulnerabilities.  The first of these insights is that “[i]nformation technology, including computers and telecommunications systems, has permeated all aspects of society and economies and become an integral part of a nation’s infrastructure.”22  Managing the course of this expanding informationization was identified by the 16th Party Congress “as essential for growing ‘comprehensive national power.’”23  The value of information systems extends beyond economic leadership or cultural soft power.  Information dominance is seen as a prerequisite for military dominance.  Chinese analysts noted the critical role that information technology played in enabling lopsided coalition success in Operation Desert Storm and in later operations in Bosnia.24  According to Chinese policy, networks and information technology are not only critical to national development, they allow China to “[outflank] traditional military forces” like those of the United States.25  Finally, Chinese observers noted the central role of space systems in delivering U.S. information dominance.  As Dean Cheng notes in his book, Cyber Dragon:  Inside China’s Information Warfare and Cyber Operations, Chinese estimates suggest that satellites transmitted 70% of all coalition data during Desert Storm and between 70% and 100% of multiple sectors of critical battlefield information during operations in Bosnia.26  From these estimates, Chinese thinkers concluded that “without space dominance, one cannot obtain information dominance and aerial dominance, and therefore one cannot achieve land or maritime dominance.”27 In the future,  victory will likely go to whatever nation can establish and maintain superiority in the space domain.

To seize superiority in the space or information environments, however, China must be able to contest American operations in space.  Chinese analysts believe that control of the space domain is a prerequisite for effective information warfare, as so many information networks interact with space-based systems.  States without the ability to operate in space are functionally “’deaf and blind.’”28  Chinese experts have developed five operational concepts to confound opposing space operations and ensure that such sensory deprivation is reserved only for China’s opponents.  These operational categories are closely interconnected and mutually supporting, consisting of space deterrence, space blockades, space strike operations, space defense operations, provision of space information support.29  In Chinese doctrine, space deterrence consists of efforts to shape an opponent’s perceptions—and thereby its actions—to conform with Chinese intentions through the use of space-based technologies.30  Space blockades involve the use of forces in any domain, including direct action against launch sites, physical obstruction of orbits or launch windows, or cyber-attacks, to deny an opponent’s access to space.31  Space strike operations involve offensive use of space- or Earth-based, physical or cyber-attacks against “the range of enemy space-related targets, including those in orbit, on land, sea, and air,” to better enable space deterrence or blockade.32  Chinese space defense efforts center on protection of space infrastructure, as well as shielding key national targets from space-based or ballistic missile attack.33  Space information support involves many aspects of the satellite services sector, including imaging and surveillance, communications, and PNT, in addition to missile early warning.34  These space-centric but cross-domain efforts will be employed simultaneously to help China gain the advantage in space.  Further, because Chinese thinking on informationized warfare holds “peace and war, military and civilian [as] increasingly indistinguishable[,]” they will likely be employed before the apparent outbreak of conflict and against the broadest possible range of space targets, commercial, civil, and security alike.35

China has developed world class counter-space capabilities in support of their space and information warfare concepts.  One area of critical development is kinetic anti-satellite (ASAT) weapons and operations.  China has repeatedly tested direct ascent, ASAT weapons systems demonstrating its ability to hazard U.S. satellites in orbit.36  In addition, recent Chinese satellite operations have included up-close inspections of other satellites, a form of rendezvous and proximity operation (RPO).37  While not overtly threatening, such operations may indicate rehearsal for on-orbit ASAT capabilities.  The development of a new robotic arm by Tianjin University—ostensibly for orbital debris removal, but likely too short to safely grapple with tumbling objects—further suggests on-orbit ASAT development.38  China’s counter-space capabilities are not limited to kinetic action.  There are indications that the Chinese military has constructed five fixed and two mobile laser systems capable of counter-space operations.39  In addition, there are some unconfirmed reports of China deploying mobile satellite jamming systems near the contested portion of Kashmir.40  Finally, China maintains an active cyber warfare capability, which it has directed against a variety of space, defense, and financial sector targets, indicating the capacity to attack U.S. systems in the future.41  These non-kinetic counter-space methods offer varying degrees of reversibility in their effects, allowing China to temporarily degrade an opponent’s systems at a potentially lower escalatory cost.

Other nations also maintain credible counter-space capabilities.  Russia has long maintained robust kinetic ASAT programs, in addition to highly developed electronic warfare and cyber operations capabilities.42  Russia, like China, has demonstrated both the means and the intent to disrupt American military and commercial infrastructure, as well as the capacity to carry such efforts into space.43  India, too, has conducted successful direct-ascent ASAT testing and operates electronic jamming systems capable of targeting space systems; although, it enjoys notably better relations with the United States.44

While any of these varied counter-space systems may be at least potentially threatening to a space-faring nation, cyber weapons may prove most attractive to revisionist powers seeking to contest American space capabilities.  Unlike kinetic ASAT weapons, cyber weapons offer more scalable effects.  Cyber weapons may degrade an opponent’s space systems or infrastructure for a limited period of time before returning them to normal operations.   Such reversibility suggests cyber weapons may be less inherently escalatory than more overt means.  Investments in cyber-capabilities offer the potential for lopsided effects, without the level of expenditure that the development of major weapon systems usually requires.  Further, cyber weapons are generally less attributable than other counter space systems.45  States may be less likely to respond forcefully to attacks that are both limited in effect and difficult to trace to a definite point of origin.  In fact, in a well-executed attack, the target may not even recognize hostile action has even taken place.  Generally, successful cyber-attacks benefit from an advanced level of knowledge about the workings of the targeted system; however, they need not be especially resource intensive to conduct.46  The relative affordability of cyber action puts it within the reach of a growing number of state and non-state actors.  In fact, recent advances in artificial intelligence have produced autonomous cyber agents able to conduct a variety of attacks even without apparent human guidance intent. 47  Cyber weapons’ combination of scalability in effects, deniability, and affordability is a powerful incentive for their use, and American space infrastructure will remain an attractive target.

Given America’s uniquely broad space ecosystem, its potential vulnerabilities are equally unrivaled.  While cybersecurity is an increasingly active concern of policymakers, resources are limited.  The current national policy around space cybersecurity admits significant risk.  However, tools exist to harden the space sectors’ cyber perimeter at minimal cost.  Part II of this essay will show that a better approach could include removing the restrictions preventing American firms from actively defending their own cyber systems and replacing them with an oversight model drawn from America’s early days as a maritime power.  Empowered by modernized letters of marque and reprisal, U.S space cowboys and cyber operators can shift the balance of cyber risk in America’s favor.

Chris Rice is a U.S. Army veteran. A graduate of the United States Military Academy and Georgetown University’s Security Studies Program, he has overseas experience in both South Korea and Afghanistan. He works as a consultant in Northern Virginia, assisting in the delivery of critical technologies to the warfighter. When not at work,  Chris is typically cooking various meals for his wife and two children, carrying around a large bag full of sand, or (p)reenacting future battles with small, plastic robots.

References

1. Executive Office of the President, 2025 National Defense Strategy, November 2025, https://www.whitehouse.gov/wp-content/uploads/2025/12/2025-National-Security-Strategy.pdf, 21.

2. U.S Space Force, Commercial Space Strategy, April 2024, https://www.spaceforce.mil/Portals/2/Documents/Space%20Policy/USSF_Commercial_Space_Strategy.pdf.

3. Executive Office of the President, National Space Policy, December 9, 2020, https://trumpwhitehouse.archives.gov/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/National-Space-Policy.pdf, 20.

4. Ibid. 8

5. John J. Klein, Understanding Space Strategy:  The Art of War In Space (Kindle Edition), (New York:  Taylor and Francis, 2019), 7.

6. Tina Highfill, Patrick Georgi, and Dominique Dubria, “Measuring the Value of the U.S. Space Economy,” Bureau of Economic Analysis, December 2019, https://apps.bea.gov/scb/2019/12-december/1219-commercial-space.html.

7.  Author redacted, “The Commercial Space Industry and Launch Market,” Congressional Research Service, April 20,  2012, https://www.everycrsreport.com/files/20120420_R42492_63f6f0770a711eb5094b9871844ae5fe28e34a4e.pdf, 1.

8. Tina Highfill, Patrick Georgi, and Dominique Dubria, “Measuring the Value of the U.S. Space Economy.”

9.  US Space Industry “Deep Dive,” https://www.bis.doc.gov/index.php/documents/technology-evaluation/769-final-dataset-overview/file, 29.

10. Federal Aviation Administration, “New Era of U.S. Commercial Space Transportation Begins,” March 22, 2021, https://www.faa.gov/newsroom/new-era-us-commercial-space-transportation-begins.

11. Federal Aviation Administration, “Commercial Space Data,” Accessed November 24, 2021, https://www.faa.gov/data_research/commercial_space_data/.

12. Federal Aviation Administration, “New Era of U.S. Commercial Space Transportation Begins.”

13. John J. Klein, Understanding Space Strategy:  The Art of War In Space (Kindle Edition), (New York:  Taylor and Francis, 2019), 203.

14. Courtney Albon, “Space Force may seek civil reserve fleet of spaceships for emergencies,” Federal Times, October 19, 2022, https://www.federaltimes.com/govcon/2022/10/19/space-force-may-seek-civil-reserve-fleet-of-spaceships-for-emergencies/.

15. Jeffery Kluger, “Ukraine Has Been Using Elon Musk’s Satellites And Russia Is Not Happy About It,” Time, October 28, 2022, https://time.com/6226133/russia-ukraine-spacex-satellites-elon-musk/.

16. Redacted, “The Commercial Space Industry and Launch Market,” 1.

17. Redacted, “The Commercial Space Industry and Launch Market,” 20.

18. Bonnie L. Triezenberg, “Protecting the U.S. Supply on Heavy Lift Launch Vehicles,” The RAND Blog, May 6, 2020, https://www.rand.org/blog/2020/05/protecting-the-us-supply-on-heavy-lift-launch-vehicles.html.

19. Triezenberg, “Protecting the U.S. Supply on Heavy Lift Launch Vehicles.”

20. Robert Pfaltzgraf, Space and U.S. Security:  A Net Assessment, Institute for Foreign Policy Analysis, January, 2009, http://www.ifpa.org/pdf/Space_and_U_S_Security_Net_Assessment_Final_Dec15_08.pdf, 12.

21. Pfaltzgraf, Space and U.S. Security:  A Net Assessment, 13.

22. Dean Cheng, Cyber Dragon: Inside China’s Information Warfare and Cyber Operations (Kindle Edition), (Westport, CT:  Praeger Security International), 1.

23. Ibid., 1, 5.

24. Ibid.,, 155, 156.

25. Ibid., 1, 3.

26. Ibid., 155, 156.

27. Ibid., 164.

28. Ibid., 163, 164.

29. Ibid., 165.

30. Ibid., 165.

31. Ibid., 167.

32. Ibid., 168.

33. Ibid., 169.

34. Ibid., 171.

35. Ibid., 15.

36. Todd Harrison, Kaitlyn Johnson, and Makena Young, March 31, 2021, “Space Threat Assessment 2021,” Center For Strategic and International Studies, https://csis-website-prod.s3.amazonaws.com/s3fs-public/publication/210331_Harrison_SpaceThreatAssessment2021.pdf, 13.

37. Harrison, Johnson, and Young, “Space Threat Assessment,” 13.

38. Ibid.

39. Brian G. Chow and Henry Sokolski, “U.S. satellites increasingly vulnerable to China’s ground-based lasers,” Space News, July 10, 2020, https://spacenews.com/op-ed-u-s-satellites-increasingly-vulnerable-to-chinas-ground-based-lasers/.

40. Harrison, Johnson, and Young, “Space Threat Assessment,” 14.

41. Ibid.

42. Ibid., 16-20.

43. U.S. Department of Defense, 2022 National Defense Strategy, 5.

44. Harrison, Johnson, and Young, “Space Threat Assessment,” 28.

45. Ibid., 5

46. Ibid., 5.

47. Sam Schechner and Robert McMillan, “A User’s Guide to the Universe of Rogue AI Bots,” Wall Street Journal, 6 August 2026, https://www.wsj.com/tech/ai/a-users-guide-to-the-universe-of-rogue-ai-bots-ef9d9d43?mod=Searchresults&pos=5&page=1

Featured image: NASA astronaut Nicholas Patrick, STS-130 mission specialist, doing extravehicular activity (EVA) on the International Space Station. (Wikimedia Commons)

Fostering the Discussion on Securing the Seas.