The next war could begin in orbit

For decades, space largely stayed above the nuclear rivalry on Earth, but that consensus is now under strain. Since early 2024, US officials have repeatedly warned that Russia is developing an orbital nuclear anti-satellite capability, which would detonate in low-Earth orbit (LEO), where an electromagnetic pulse and radiation could disable hundreds, perhaps thousands, of satellites at once. Russia denies this allegation.

In April, concerns were reignited when General Stephen Whiting, commander of US Space Command, said the US remained “very concerned” that Russia could eventually deploy such a weapon in orbit. He warned that any detonation would threaten satellites belonging not only to the US but to every major spacefaring country, including India and China. US officials have described the scenario as a potential “space Pearl Harbor”, implying a single strike capable of disrupting global positioning system (GPS), satellite communications and military reconnaissance.

Even so, few analysts believe a nuclear explosion in orbit is the likeliest opening move of a future conflict; such a strike would be indiscriminate and would risk the attacker’s own satellites, too. Recent conflicts hint at how the competition is more likely to unfold.

The Secure World Foundation’s Global Counterspace Capabilities 2026 report notes that “only non-destructive counterspace capabilities are being used in active military conflicts.” The report points to capabilities including cyberattacks, jamming and spoofing, suggesting that the first moves in a space conflict may be far less dramatic than the destruction of a satellite.

Within hours of invading Ukraine in February 2022, Russia launched a cyberattack on the ground infrastructure supporting Viasat’s KA-SAT satellite network, knocking out internet terminals across Ukraine and parts of Europe. Ukraine also showed the value of resilience. As it leaned harder on Starlink, thousands of small commercial satellites proved far harder to disrupt than a handful of large government-owned ones. Modern military space power is increasingly built on scale, redundancy and the ability to recover quickly, not just having the most sophisticated satellites.

The Center for Strategic and International Studies, in its assessment on the “biggest space threats in 2026”, highlights the shift: “Space has moved from a supporting role to a centerpiece in how nations compete and fight.” The change reflects how deeply satellites are now woven into communications, intelligence, navigation and targeting, and why disrupting them has become a military objective in its own right.

Events in West Asia point to a similar trend. During successive rounds of missile and drone exchanges involving Iran and the US-Israel over the past few months, analysts noted that some Iranian strikes landed more accurately than expected. One explanation floated is that Iran has supplemented its precision-guidance architecture with China’s BeiDou navigation constellation, possibly alongside Russia’s global navigation satellite system (Glonass), cutting reliance on GPS. The precise architecture remains unclear publicly, but the takeaway is: Militaries can increasingly draw on multiple navigation constellations, making it harder to deny them precision by disrupting a single network. This shift underscores how vital satellite networks have become to modern warfare, broadening how militaries think about conflict in orbit. Increasingly, they speak not only about anti-satellite weapons but counter-space operations — cyberattacks on ground stations, jamming and spoofing of navigation signals, lasers interfering with optical sensors, electronic warfare, and spacecraft capable of approaching or disrupting another satellite without firing a shot. Satellites remain at the heart of the contest, but much of it now plays out through software, radio frequencies and ground infrastructure. For India, though, the country shaping this new reality is neither Russia nor the US. It is China. 

Over the past decade, China has built one of the world’s most formidable military space programmes. According to US estimates, China’s satellite fleet has grown from a few dozen military-relevant satellites in 2010 to more than 1,000 today, with hundreds dedicated to intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance. Chinese spacecraft are also demonstrating increasingly sophisticated proximity operations — approaching, inspecting and manoeuvring around other satellites for servicing, debris removal or inspection. The same technologies could just as easily interfere with or disable an adversary’s spacecraft. Few technologies illustrate the blurred line between civilian and military applications more clearly: A robotic arm capable of repairing a damaged satellite is mechanically little different from one capable of moving or disabling someone else’s.

The Global Counterspace Capabilities report also highlights the growing importance of spacecraft that can operate close to other satellites. Such proximity operations can have legitimate uses, including inspection and servicing, but the same capabilities can potentially be used to interfere with an adversary’s spacecraft. Independent assessments back this up. Reporting on the Secure World Foundation’s counterspace tracking suggests China may already have as many as three direct-ascent anti-satellite systems, with its low-Earth-orbit interceptor capability considered mature, even as its reach against higher, geostationary targets remains experimental.

The report also tracks the emergence of “bodyguard” satellites: Spacecraft intended to accompany or protect high-value assets. The concept illustrates the changing character of military space — satellites are no longer necessarily passive objects in orbit, but can increasingly manoeuvre, inspect and potentially respond to other spacecraft.

India did not have to imagine what that might mean in practice. During Operation Sindoor, the four-day military confrontation with Pakistan in May 2025 following the Pahalgam terror attack, Indian officials and defence analysts said China provided Pakistan with intelligence support, including satellite-derived information that helped Pakistan monitor Indian military activity. Pakistan’s Defence Minister Khawaja Asif stopped short of denying such cooperation, telling Arab News that intelligence-sharing between allies was “very normal”.

For India, the episode was less a revelation about China’s intentions than a reminder of its own gaps. India’s ageing Cartosat and radar imaging satellite (Risat) constellations struggled to provide the persistent, all-weather coverage a fast-moving conflict demands. At critical moments, it is believed, Indian commanders were operating with a less complete picture of the battlefield than the adversary they faced. The experience reinforced the need for strengthening India’s own space-based surveillance capabilities.

Within months of Operation Sindoor, the Cabinet Committee on Security approved an accelerated Space-Based Surveillance (SBS) programme, compressing what was originally planned as a four-year rollout into an 18-month effort. The goal is a constellation of 52 surveillance satellites, about half built with private-sector participation, providing persistent optical and radar coverage of India’s borders and its 7,500-km coastline. The programme, now formalised as Space-Based Surveillance Phase-III, carries a reported budget of nearly ~27,000 crore, with the government deploying it in phases through 2029 and roughly three-fifths of the satellites built by private firms under the revised Space Policy 2026.

Speaking at the DefSpace Symposium earlier this year, then Chief of Defence Staff General Anil Chauhan (retired) summed up the stakes: Failure in space would force India to “fight blind”, success would let it “fight with foresight”.

But launching more satellites is only part of the plan; the bigger challenge is a network that can withstand disruption, and making satellites, ground stations, links and data networks resilient enough to function even under attack.

This thinking also shapes India’s tech investment. The Department of Defence Research and Development (DRDO) has continued work on directed-energy programmes such as directionally unrestricted ray-gun array II (Durga-II) and kilo ampere linear injector (KALI), though much remains classified and public specifications largely come from media reports rather than official disclosures. While these projects might not have direct applications in the space domain, the direction is clear: India wants non-kinetic capabilities that can degrade an adversary’s sensors or electronics without creating the debris associated with conventional anti-satellite weapons.

That reflects a lesson from India’s own experience. Mission Shakti, the 2019 test that destroyed a satellite in LEO, demonstrated India’s anti-satellite (Asat) capability. It also renewed concerns about orbital debris, after fragments from the target briefly threatened other spacecraft. The Secure World Foundation’s 2026 report reinforces the cost of such tests, documenting the continuing orbital-debris legacy of previous destructive Asat demonstrations.

Future counter-space capabilities are therefore likely to place greater emphasis on reversible or non-destructive effects than on kinetic interceptions.

Awareness is becoming just as important as capability. Isro’s Project network for space object tracking and analysis (Netra) is emerging as the centrepiece of India’s space-domain awareness programme. Using a network of radars, optical telescopes and data-sharing arrangements with international partners, it is designed to track satellites, orbital debris and unusual manoeuvres in space. As spacecraft become capable of approaching one another under the guise of inspection or servicing, simply knowing what is happening in orbit is becoming a strategic advantage.

Officials have also discussed concepts resembling “bodyguard satellites” — small spacecraft that could accompany and help protect high-value satellites through rendezvous and proximity operations. The idea is still early-stage, but reflects a broader shift: Space is no longer a static environment of passive satellites, but an operational domain where spacecraft may one day protect themselves, or each other.

Still, the global Asat weapons and defence market is expected to expand by nearly 10 per cent compound annual growth rate to around $11 billion by 2035, propelled by escalating LEO militarisation, commercial mega-constellation targeting, and major power competition in both West and East.

India’s changing approach to space is also reshaping who builds its capabilities. For decades, the sector was largely the domain of Isro and a few public-sector organisations, but that is beginning to change. Private companies such as Pixxel and GalaxEye are developing earth-observation satellites, hyperspectral imaging systems and synthetic aperture radar technologies that, until recently, were largely the preserve of governments.

The defence ministry’s Mission DefSpace initiative reflects the same shift. By challenging startups to develop technologies ranging from autonomous orbital inspection to advanced signal intelligence, it acknowledges that some of the fastest innovation is now coming from the private sector.

India still has ground to make up. China’s military and commercial space ecosystem is far larger, while the US continues to dominate the global launch and satellite industry. But India is betting that a growing private space sector can help narrow part of that gap. Whether it can do so before the next crisis remains to be seen.

India’s progress in space has not been without setbacks. Navigation with Indian Constellation (NavIC), the country’s indigenous satellite navigation system, has faced repeated challenges over the past decade, including failures of onboard atomic clocks and delays in replenishing the constellation. Maintaining reliable regional coverage requires timely replacement launches, dependable spacecraft and sustained investment. 

The broader challenge extends beyond NavIC. Announcing new satellite constellations is one thing; building them on schedule, keeping them operational for years and integrating them seamlessly with military networks is another. Ukraine has shown the value of redundancy. India’s own experience suggests resilience also demands patience and sustained investment.

The 1967 Outer Space Treaty succeeded in keeping nuclear weapons out of orbit. But it says little about the technologies increasingly shaping military competition in space. Cyberattacks on ground stations, jamming navigation signals, dazzling optical sensors with lasers, or manoeuvring satellites close to one another — all of it occupies a grey area the treaty never anticipated. That is increasingly where the competition lies.

India joined the US-led Artemis Accords in 2023 and is working towards establishing the Bharatiya Antariksh Station later this decade. As more countries prepare for sustained

activity beyond LEO, including in the vast cislunar region between Earth and the Moon, questions of security are likely to follow scientific and commercial ambitions.

That caution is more than theoretical. Recently, a spent SpaceX rocket stage crashed into the Moon on an uncontrolled trajectory, reminding us how hard it still is to track objects once they leave Earth orbit. It was no weapon, but as the US, China, India and private players crowd into cislunar space, the same blind spots that let a rocket body drift unchecked could just as easily hide debris, collisions or deliberate interference. For India, that means Chandrayaan-3’s success is only a first step; securing the Moon’s approaches will demand its own surveillance and communications architecture, not just the ability to land there. Few expect the Moon itself to become a battlefield, but the communications, navigation and logistics networks that will support future lunar missions are unlikely to remain insulated from geopolitical rivalry.

The planners behind Project A119 eventually concluded that a nuclear explosion on the Moon carried risks that outweighed its symbolic value. But today’s competition is quieter, and arguably more consequential. Future conflicts in space are unlikely to begin with spectacular explosions visible from Earth; they are more likely to involve cyberattacks, electronic warfare, disrupted communications and compromised navigation systems — the invisible infrastructure on which modern militaries, economies and societies increasingly depend.

For India, that is no longer a distant strategic question. Wedged between two nuclear-armed neighbours and increasingly reliant on satellites for everything from military communications and precision weapons to banking, shipping, disaster management and agriculture, the security of its space infrastructure has become a priority. The next war may not begin with tanks on the border or missiles in the sky. It may begin with a satellite that quietly stops working.