Abstract
This article compares two central pillars of China’s space programme and observes that Chinese space diplomacy is not uniform regarding international scientific co-operation either in its approaches or in results. In the case of the Chinese Space Station programme, the China National Space Administration went through existing United Nations (UN) channels and successfully attracted international partners. However, the International Lunar Research Station has avoided UN channels and used national and bilateral platforms. This bifurcation in approaches and results offers an intriguing puzzle concerning international co-operation: practices of institutionalised multilateral co-operation and areas of state-centric bilateral co-operation co-exist in this case and further complicate the issue of space diplomacy. To propose a potential explanation, it is argued here that a crucial intermediate variable — institutional density — requires further theorising, as it seems to influence strategic choices about space diplomacy, which may lead to success or failure.
1 Introduction1
During the last two decades, China’s space programme has flourished. In June 2021, China successfully sent three taikonauts to Tianhe, a newly launched space station module that works as the core module of the Chinese Space Station (CSS). The Chinese Space Station (CSS) could potentially be the only station in low Earth orbit (LEO) in the coming years. Within the same month, China’s National Space Administration (CNSA) published its International Lunar Research Station (ILRS) Guide for Partnership, the guidelines for the joint Sino-Russian lunar project aimed at establishing an autonomous lunar habitat by 2030. The CSS and the ILRS, two central pillars of China’s human space programme, offer an intriguing puzzle concerning China’s international co-operation and space diplomacy while shedding light on China’s ambiguous stance towards international institutions.
Although a latecomer when compared with the United States, Russia or Europe, China is quickly developing a powerful presence in space due to a range of major assets including launch vehicles and a satellite navigation network.2 Through various elements of its space programme, China is collaborating with a growing number of countries. The Chinese space programme is studied against the backdrop of an increasingly competitive geopolitical international system and an evolving treaty system governing outer space — Chinese fledgling space capabilities are seen in the context of commercialisation, militarisation and geopolitical rivalry in space.3 But Beijing’s ‘space diplomacy’ can also be described as part of a growing portfolio of Chinese science diplomacy across different disciplinary fields and the associated need to make sense of the ramifications of China’s growing scientific output that made it a member of the group of scientifically leading countries.4 We use the following definition here: space diplomacy refers to the formal and informal interactions, agreements and deliberations that occur among actors involved in space, whether conducted by professional diplomats or non-state actors. In this light, this article addresses a research gap. The international co-operation associated with of one the frontiers of space exploration has received relatively little systematic research attention thus far.5
Building a space station and a Moon base are novel challenges for the Chinese government. But the construction and operation of the CSS adheres to established regulations and uses existing institutions, as it largely follows the precedents of multiple US and Soviet space stations during the Cold War and the International Space Station (ISS). While the CSS went through United Nations (UN) channels for communicating and negotiating with international partners, in the case of the ILRS, China has chosen another path. Co-operation related to planning and constructing a scientific station on the Moon have mainly been conducted through bilateral agreements with Russia, and China retains the greater part of control over the project. The CSS and the ILRS show that practices of institutionalised co-operation open to all international partners and less transparent bilateral co-operation co-exist under the purview of the same research agency. These diverging approaches to space diplomacy, which we treat here as instances of science diplomacy, raise the question of which factors explain the disparate Chinese conduct.
While this observation challenges the assumptions of the ‘new space race’ literature, which tends to be narrowly focused on security concerns,6 it corresponds to insights from other scholarship on Chinese involvement in international organisations and regimes.7 We find that Chinese science diplomacy does not take a uniform multilateral or bilateral approach to international co-operation. It operates neither completely inside UN channels nor entirely outside them. For instance, China relies heavily on UN-associated procedures and organisational mechanisms as well as competitive bilateral strategies to enrol partners in its space programmes. Employing concepts proposed by Mai’a K. Davis Cross and Saadia M. Pekkanen in this special issue, we descriptively distinguish two ways in which China’s space diplomacy has attracted potential partners for its missions: (1) communication is an open, international treaties-based and transparent approach that uses existing frameworks and procedures such as the United Nations Office for Outer Space Affairs (UNOOSA) to attract co-operation; and (2) bargaining emphasises a selective and self-interest-based approach where trade-offs are made based on state-centric national interests and geopolitical considerations. The second pattern is suggestive of an emerging trend of (zero-sum) great power behaviour in space that requires further theorisation beyond the Chinese case.
We argue that the diverging level of institutional density offers the best explanation for the two different approaches to space diplomacy as it creates incentives and path dependencies. In places with relatively lower institutional density, such as on the Moon, actors have more flexibility to make their own rules, norms and procedures. Though the Moon is principally under the jurisdiction of major international space treaties, dedicated and specific regimes and regulations for governance are still lacking. Consequently, as compared with the context of other orbital space assets, space actors have more freedom to interpret existing space treaties and to implement new regulations on the Moon. Space powers are, therefore, more likely to compete in establishing their own procedures and rules favourable to their immediate interests.8
The article proceeds as follows. Section 2 introduces the notions of communication and bargaining to describe the diverging approaches in China’s space programme and scrutinises alternative explanations. Section 3 discusses the link between institutional density and diverging patterns of scientific co-operation. This perspective is then utilised in section 4 to explore two case studies. The research design features a paired case analysis in which the CSS and the ILRS provide quasi-experimental subjects for testing how differing institutional density correlates with the mode of Chinese space diplomacy. The conclusion points out that further work is needed to theorise the associated causal mechanisms.
2 China’s Human Space Programmes: Beyond the Security Lens
Compared with those of the United States or the Soviet Union/Russia, China’s space programmes are relatively young. As its first satellite was launched in 1970, China’s human space programme did not really take shape until 1992.9 This relatively late entrance means China’s human spaceflight programme has had to achieve a lot of catch-up in light of the advanced space programmes of the United States and Russia.10 China has established a range of interlinked research programmes for ‘space science, application of technology’,11 of which crewed space missions are a crucial part. The civilian programmes are divided into the near Earth space station and Lunar and Martian explorations. The CSS and the ILRS are critical for the goal of reaching Mars during the next two decades as preliminary missions to accumulate technology and experience. For both programmes, the Chinese government has announced its willingness to co-operate internationally with any potential partners. The progress of the CSS and the Chang’E lunar missions has attracted considerable international interest and partnerships with, inter alia, the European Space Agency, the National Space Activities Committee of Argentina and the Pakistan Outer Space and Atmospheric Research Council.12
Arguably, Beijing’s space activities are more representative of ‘Old Space’ than of ‘New Space’. While Old Space usually refers to space activities following a pattern derived from the Cold War space race between the United States and the Soviet Union,13 New Space is characterised by an expanding set of actors, both state and private, as well as novel purposes and goals.14 But New Space also refers to space activities in largely untouched areas of space, such as establishing habitats on other celestial bodies. Specifically, the emergence of private actors in space, such as SpaceX, the commercialisation of space, and potentially establishing permanent presence on other celestial bodies present lingering challenges regarding governance and regulation.15 This has led to various considerations and proposals for governance in the new space age.16Although the emergence of a ‘private launch industry’ has been observed within China, no commercial Chinese space industry comparable to that of the United States yet exists, while ‘the development framework for these companies (in the launcher sector) remains resolutely top-down’.17 As the Chinese government has extensive interests in international co-operation to promote the pursuit of key objectives, its approach remains thoroughly state-centric.
Building on the conceptual framework proposed by this special issue, we distinguish two different approaches in how China co-operates internationally in space: communication and bargaining. Concerning communication, it is assumed that:
-
Any space actor may engage in national, transnational or international communication concerning the importance of space. This can be in the form of formal or informal public diplomacy, including cultural, scientific or technological outreach, among others, leading to the perception that space is a realm of collaboration. Engagements in scientific networks or epistemic communities/coalitions may involve continual mutual communication of scientific findings and the reiteration of shared goals in space.
-
With regard to bargaining, the main logic suggests that state actors strike deals based on self-interest. Strategic negotiations result in tit-for-tat trade-offs among space diplomats (state or non-state) who seek to maximise their state’s self-interest through bargaining with other states.
It needs to be noted that these two descriptive notions refer to ideal types, while states normally tend to mix communicative and bargaining approaches in their conduct of space programmes. For instance, in the case of the CSS, China mainly follows the diplomatic style of communication, which utilises existing frameworks and institutions established in the Old Space. The CSS went through conventional UN institutions to attract international partners, with UNOOSA working as a mediator and independent assessor for applicants. In contrast, the selection of co-operation partners in the case of the ILRS Moon base operates according to a different central logic. The ILRS programme did not go through the UN channels and instead focused on bilateral agreements underpinning different stages of the mission. These divergent approaches suggest a pattern of great power behaviour in space that is more complex and nuanced than the security dilemma and the ‘new space race’, which have difficulties explaining such a heterogeneous approach.
Studies of China’s space strategy that focus on security issues shed light on why space co-operation between the United States and China has become increasingly difficult. Scholars have analysed China’s build-up in space through the lens of security studies and argue that the development of space capabilities is instrumental to China’s military strategy. This view became popular as early as 2007, when China conducted its first successful anti-satellite missile test and destroyed one of its own weather satellites.18 Many saw China’s growing investments in space as a part of a long-term strategy to mitigate the superiority of US military might.19 As a result, the increase of Chinese space co-operation at international or regional levels was seen as ‘an unlikely near-term outcome’ due to the strong military drivers of the Chinese space programme.20 As the US Congress legislated a ban on Chinese astronauts participating in activities on the ISS in 2011, the Chinese government has successfully pushed for home-grown space technology innovations and operative autonomy without co-operation with the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA). However, the goal remains co-operation, as Namrata Goswami notes: ‘Once China has the knowledge and proven space capacity of its own, international co-operation with the US would become the new normal.’21 The US defence and policy communities meanwhile prefer a clear separation, in line with the narrative of a larger tech decoupling from China. For instance, a report by Johns Hopkins University in 2020 commissioned by the US Department of Defense envisions a mutual and intentional separation between China’s development of space capabilities and that of the United States and its allies. This situation has prevented further co-operation between China and other space countries due to the fear surrounding the security implications of space technology exchanges. The report notes that this separation tendency will not be alleviated anytime soon.22
However, China’s space diplomacy is not limited to bilateral relations with the United States. As the Chinese government has been trying to become an active international player, the military and security dimensions of its space programmes have not prevented Beijing from increasing its co-operation with multiple international space actors.23 Factors not immediately related to national security — such as scientific interests, the need to garner domestic political support and economic interests24 — play a crucial role here in shaping China’s policy-making and strategic planning. Observers have characterised the Chinese space policies as resulting from ‘a highly rational decision-making process that is ruled by incrementalism, consensus building, scientific judgment’.25 As the debate about the dominance of the security dimension in China’s space diplomacy and science collaboration remains inconclusive,26 the parallelism of diverging approaches requires a different conceptual framework beyond national security.
The science and space diplomacy literatures have developed different typologies for different approaches to diplomacy. Two main vocabularies have emerged from the discussion. The first derives from science and technology policy and proposes a national typology, which essentially prioritises domestic variables. It views state capacity and socio-economic background as determining factors for different types of science diplomacy.27 The second derives from International Relations theories, and specifically discussions surrounding diplomacy for global commons, which proposes typologies of strategies for actors when dealing with global commons such as space.28 A third conceptual approach, which will be developed in more detail in the following section, stresses the institutional conditions of space diplomacy. The nature of specific space activities and the environment in which they are conducted equally influence space diplomacy choices.
3 Towards a Framework of Institutional Density and Co-operation in Space
Focusing on ‘institutional environment’ as the intervening variable influencing space diplomacy offers a way to make sense of why space actors choose one mode of space diplomacy over another for different types of space activities. To begin with, institutions must be defined and identified in the space context. Institutions are ‘a particular human-constructed arrangement, formally or informally organized’, with ‘related complexes of rules and norms, identifiable in space and time’.29 This definition emphasises the ‘persistent’ and ‘connected’ sets of rules and principles, manifested as specific institutions or organisations that have behavioural impact on states.30 For instance, the UN treaties administered by UNOOSA and its subordinate organisations are a crucial institution shaping space policies and activities. One of the key functions of international institutions is to enable co-operation among self-interested actors in an anarchic setting.31 Functioning institutions lower transactional costs, as they allow for more effective communication and exchange of interests.32 Additionally, established institutions provide a foundation for trust.33 So, even without placing too much trust in China, participants in the CSS can rely on UN procedures, standards and levels of transparency guaranteed therein. A well-designed network of institutions makes it easier for actors to co-operate and lends credibility and legitimacy to initiators of co-operation.34
Institutional density is conventionally defined as ‘the number of organizations within a specified population, defined in terms of specified spatial and temporal boundaries’.35 The associated notion of ‘regime complexity’ refers to variations in the degree of institutional density and points to possible regulative overlaps and competition of institutional authority.36 For a comparison of institutional density, several elements are critical, including the number of institutions governing a specific and related issue, the level of agency of those institutions and the level of rule overlaps. Scholarship on the relationship between institutional density and freedom of action suggests that the relationship is not linear. When density reaches a certain high level, it can produce fragmentation and weaken the constraining effects of institutions on powerful states.37
The general level of institutional density in space is lower than in most terrestrial settings. But depending upon whether states operate closer or further away from planet earth, the number of relevant institutions greatly differ. Near Earth orbit, for example, is not only governed by four of the five official UN treaties — namely the 1967 Outer Space Treaty (OST), the 1968 Rescue Agreement, the 1972 Liability Convention and the 1976 Registration Convention — but also falls within the purview of international organisations, such as the International Telecommunication Union and the International Civil Aviation Organization. There are, in addition, various soft law instruments and institutions including guidelines involving space stations and space debris mitigation. These institutions have a long history and are used frequently, which has created clear, trusted and time-tested interaction rules and procedures for all space actors. Overall, there is some overlap between the different institutions governing near Earth space activities, and accordingly the institutional density is relatively high (see Table 1).
Institutional density in comparison
Citation: The Hague Journal of Diplomacy 18, 2-3 (2023) ; 10.1163/1871191x-bja10155
Institutional density in comparison
Citation: The Hague Journal of Diplomacy 18, 2-3 (2023) ; 10.1163/1871191x-bja10155
Institutional density in comparison
Citation: The Hague Journal of Diplomacy 18, 2-3 (2023) ; 10.1163/1871191x-bja10155
With regard to other celestial bodies such as the Moon, a different picture exists. Yet, although the general international legal nature of the 1967 Space Treaty governs celestial bodies such as the Moon, there is still a lack of clear and widely accepted lex specialis with respect to specific behaviours on them.38
For example, one challenge to the current institutions concerning the governance principles for the Moon is the issue of property rights and sovereignty. Article I of the OST states that ‘the exploration and use of outer space, including the Moon and other celestial bodies, shall be carried out for the benefit and in the interests of all countries, irrespective of their degree of economic or scientific development, and shall be the province of all mankind’.39 The concept of ‘the province of all mankind’ is rather vague and undefined, but further explanations are given. For example, Article II of the 1967 OST explicitly states that ‘outer space, including the Moon and other celestial bodies, is not subject to national appropriation by claim of sovereignty, by means of use or occupation, or by any other means’.40 While this principle of non-appropriation has been widely accepted, vague terms such as ‘means of use or occupation, or by any other means’ has been interpreted differently by different actors. For space programmes that aim at the economic potential of space resources, such as the Artemis programme or the ILRS, this issue is crucial due to the non-appropriation principle’s incompatibility with the demand for some form of ownership.
The vagueness of the OST was not originally a concern, because the OST was only meant to be an agreement of principles to serve as a general international legal document on space for reference in future treaties.41 Those treaties did come about as a result, namely the 1968 Rescue Agreement, the 1972 Liability Convention and the 1976 Registration Convention. Further, in 1979 the Moon Treaty became the dedicated treaty on the utilisation of resources from other celestial bodies. The Moon Treaty provides a more detailed explanation of the ‘province of all mankind’ concept and provides more specific rules on appropriation. For example, Article 11 in the Moon Agreement states:
Neither the surface nor the subsurface of the Moon, nor any part thereof or natural resources in place, shall become property of any State, international intergovernmental or non-governmental organisation, national organisation, or non-governmental entity or of any natural person. The placement of personnel, space vehicles, equipment, facilities, stations, and installations on or below the surface of the Moon, including structures connected with its surface or subsurface, shall not create a right of ownership over the surface or the subsurface of the Moon or any areas thereof. The foregoing provisions are without prejudice to the international regime referred to in paragraph 5 of this article.42
Major space powers had very little interest in the Moon Agreement precisely due to its detailed and constraining interpretation of the principle of non-appropriation.43 One of the main reasons is that the treaty eliminates any form of ownership of space resources, which was not ideal for major space powers who intended to use those resources in the future. As a result, China, Russia and the United States, did not sign the Moon Agreement, preventing the establishment of uniform rules of governance on the Moon where dedicated international treaties are in high demand. Given the recent ambitious programmes to build infrastructures on the Moon and Mars, various space actors — including commercial actors typical for New Space — have therefore attempted to construct favourable institutions to fill this void in space governance and to seek a way to maximise their gains from space activities on the Moon. Consequently, the more recent trend for governing the Moon has been through national legislations and bilateral agreements between governmental institutions, which would provide state governments the right to interpret the treaties.44 A prime example of this trend is the Artemis Accords, which, according to some observers, serve as a means to create a favourable environment for the United States to extract space resources and consolidate its leading role in space.45
Additionally, space activities near Earth are relatively simple and limited to artificially constructed space assets. The space-specific relevance of different levels of institutional density derives from the physical properties of the environments in which the CSS and the planned Moon base are operating and the intrinsically complex nature of conducting space activities on other celestial bodies. In both technical and legal respects, more complex space activities such as establishing a research base on the Moon require more regimes to govern when multiple parties are competing in similar categories of space activities. Specifically, the CSS, or any other space activities conducted in Earth’s orbit, usually does not involve other celestial bodies and hence the invocation of issues such as sovereignty,46 property rights,47 or territory. All these issues emerge on the Moon, as stressed above.48 Detailed regulations and regimes dedicated to solving these issues would be necessary for the non-conflictual use of space on the Moon, arguably elevating the required level of institutional density to a higher degree than that for Earth’s orbit. So, even though the same treaties and rules that govern Earth’s orbit apply to the Moon, they may be insufficient to constrain space actors’ behaviour in the same manner.
Building on this discussion, it is plausible to assume that the level of institutional density correlates with the two diverging approaches to space diplomacy in the case of the CSS and the Chinese Moon base: the higher the institutional density is (below a saturation point), the more likely it is that actors will follow prevailing procedures and rationalities for co-operation in space. In turn, the lower the institutional density is, the more likely it is that actors will have to rely on interest-based bargaining, as they cannot draw on institutionally generated diffuse trust and established procedures.
4 Two Case Studies of Chinese Space Diplomacy
To substantiate the argument about institutional density, the following two case studies trace the institutional channels for attracting international partners, procedures of scientific co-operation and framings of Chinese space diplomacy with respect to two human space programmes. Although both programmes involve a mix of elements of communication and bargaining styles, communication predominantly shapes the CSS while bargaining is at the core of the ILRS.
4.1 Tianhe Space Station
High institutional density is clearly traceable for the Tianhe space station’s planning and design. The aims of the CSS are similar in many respects to the US Apollo or the Soviet Soyuz mission. Specifically, the CSS project has several main objectives, including furthering space science and developing space technologies, as well as accumulating technologies and experiences for future space missions.49 Though an ambitious new project for China, it is not conceptually or legally novel, as a precedent exists for China to follow in conducting diplomacy to achieve co-operation for this programme.
In 2016, before the precursor programmes of the CSS (Tiangong I and II) were terminated,50 China worked with UNOOSA to start the application procedure for holding experiments on the CSS. Wu Ping, Deputy Director General of China Manned Space (CMS), signed a framework and funding agreement with UNOOSA in Vienna during the 59th session of the Committee on the Peaceful Uses of Outer Space (COPUOS).51 China pledged to provide international access to the CSS to all UN member states, and developing countries in particular, ‘to conduct space experiments on-board China’s space station, as well as to provide flight opportunities for astronauts and payload engineers’.52 In 2018, China, in collaboration with UNOOSA, published the first handbook on the space station project, titled ‘China Space Station and Its Resources for International Co-operation’. This handbook detailed the specific plans for the missions, the technical specs of the space station and the requirements for co-operation partners.53 In the same year, China issued the first official call for participants through a UNOOSA press release.54 The possibilities for co-operation in the CSS project included the following:55 conducting experiments inside the CSS by utilising experiment payloads developed by selected applicants, conducting experiments inside the CSS by utilising experiment facilities provided by China, and conducting experiments outside the CSS by utilising payloads developed by selected applicants.
A total of 42 applications from institutions in 27 countries were received. The selection process involved 60 experts from ‘UNOOSA, CMS and the international space community’, who eventually selected nine projects for acceptance in June 2019.56 Six projects from international partners were fully accepted, and three others were conditionally selected, including programmes from Belgium, China, France, Germany, India, Italy, Japan, Kenya, Mexico, the Netherlands, Norway, Peru, Poland, the Russian Federation, Saudi Arabia, Spain and Switzerland.57 Most of these projects were collaborative in nature, involving multiple institutions instead of a single institution or single country projects. The standard for selection was also published through the UN media service and UNOOSA in the form of the handbook.58 This handbook is a rare case of China revealing technological details and technical specifications for a major space asset, with in-depth information about research support equipment onboard the station and ground support equipment available to international partners.
Accordingly, space agencies of the selected countries will gain physical access to the CSS. They are allowed to conduct their scientific experiments onboard, just as with the ISS. The United States also applied for participation in the mission. Its proposals, however, were not accepted on grounds of ‘inapt scientific contribution’, according to Zhou Jianping, the chief engineer of China’s crewed space programme.59 The exclusion of the US project proposal from the CSS sparked little international criticism due to the transparent procedures of the bidding and the involvement of a panel of 60 experts from the international space community under the supervision of UNOOSA.60
Moreover, the Chinese government and UNOOSA have framed the CSS as a part of the ‘Access to Space for All’ (known as AS4A) initiative started by the UN. The official discourse from both China and the UN has been consistent throughout the associated documents and media reports, presenting the nature of the programme as follows:
The United Nations/China Co-operation on the Utilization of the China Space Station (CSS) initiative is an innovative and future-focused programme to open up space exploration activities to all nations and to create a new paradigm in building capabilities in space science and technology.61
Similar framings can be found in China’s state media as well. According to Xinhua News, when the first three astronauts returned from their three-month mission on the Tianhe Module, Lin Xiqiang, deputy director of the CMS, stated that ‘the construction of China’s space station will provide a better platform for wider international co-operation, including joint astronaut flights’ and ‘co-operation on astronaut selection and training has already taken place between China and foreign countries’, while ‘European astronauts also participated in a sea-survival training programme in China in 2017’.62 China has been explicit about its intention to involve international partners through a transparent process, using established UN institutions such as UNOOSA and initiatives such as COPUOS, to co-operate with other space actors since the inception of the project in 2016. The key role of a highly institutionalised environment such as in the case of AS4A is also evident from the fact that China’s space diplomacy in action, and its approach to international space co-operation, have followed examples set by others. The European Space Agency, Japanese Space Exploration Agency, and Airbus Bartolomeo have been operating similar projects to provide access to space on the ISS through UNOOSA since 2012.63
4.2 ILRS Moon Base
The case of the ILRS differs from the Tianhe case in terms of China’s approach and the level of institutionalisation of the environment. To begin with, the goal of the ILRS is novel compared with the Old Space-like CSS programme. Like the US Artemis programme or SpaceX’s ambition to colonise Mars, China aims to establish ‘complex experiment research facilities to be constructed with a possible attraction of partners on the surface and/or in the orbit of the Moon with the capability of long-term unmanned operation with the prospect of subsequent human presence’.64 Such activity of establishing a permanent/semi-permanent space infrastructure on another celestial body is unprecedented and will entail enormous cost. Therefore, the Chinese government has stated clearly and repeatedly its intention to secure co-operation.
The ILRS programme will follow after China’s three-stage Luna exploration programme. Initial negotiations with Russia over co-operation on lunar missions were publicised in 2017. The terms between China and Russia were finalised in March 2021, in the form of the ‘Memorandum of Understanding Regarding Co-operation for the Construction of the International Lunar Research Station’.65 This agreement confirmed the status of the ILRS as a joint programme between China and Russia that is open for other partners to join. Chinese media reported the plan to jointly construct a base on the Moon, stating that ‘under the framework of the project, China and Russia will carry out close co-operation in the planning, demonstration, design, development, implementation, and operation of the project, including promoting the project to the international space community’.66 The Chinese version of the announcement mentioned that the base would be able to ‘operate independently for long durations’.
In April 2021, the CNSA made another statement to call for other international partners to join the programme. It mentioned that the ILRS will be ‘a scientific base constructed on the lunar surface and/or lunar orbit with potential partner countries, international organizations and other international partners’.67 While China and Russia branded the ILRS as a joint project open to international co-operation, the specific instructions for co-operation are very limited. Moreover, the guide does not use, or mention, established institutional platforms such as the UN institutions, and it also indicates that the evaluation of project applications will be assessed by experts from the CNSA and the Russian State Space Corporation Roscosmos.68
A more detailed roadmap for the programme was published later that year during the Global Space Exploration Conference (GLEX 2021) held by the International Astronautical Federation (IAF) and Roscosmos in St Petersburg, Russia.69 This roadmap came in the form of a sixteen-page Guide for Partnership and explained the three stages for the ILRS programme: reconnaissance (2021-2025), construction (2026-2035) and utilisation (from 2036 onwards).70 During the reconnaissance phase, China and Russia will each be responsible for three missions: in the case of China, the Chang’E 4, 6 and 7 missions, and in the case of Russia, the Luna 25, 26 and 27 missions. The first planned mission, Chang’E 4, was a success and retrieved Moon samples. The rest of the missions will focus on further lunar reconnaissance, ILRS design and selection of site(s), and technology verification for a secure high-precision soft landing.71
Although the ILRS has been a joint project between China and Russia, China has taken the lead in developing the plans and conducting preliminary missions. The most publicised missions are perhaps the recent Chang’E missions, which landed rovers on the back side of the Moon and retrieved samples from the Moon. Since China announced its intention to co-operate with other international space actors on the project, there have been few actions taken apart from the drafting of a handbook similar to the one published for the space station. The level of detail in the ILRS handbook is not comparable to that provided in its counterpart. The station itself is in the planning stage, though there has not been any information released on the mechanism by which Chinese space diplomacy would organise international co-operation. Observers identify an uneasiness that is ‘reflected in the very nature of their co-operation initiatives, including most notably their joint ILRS, which still remains little more than a coordination mechanism rather than a bold undertaking sharing a common goal’.72
In addition to progression of the missions themselves, China is also moving on with space diplomacy to attract more international partners. Chinese diplomatic attempts to attract partners for the ILRS, in contrast to the CSS, have not utilised UNOOSA or other conventional UN institutions extensively in the same manner that China did in the case of the CSS. Instead, various national platforms to promote the programme, such as the China International Aviation & Aerospace Exhibition,73 as well as public events hosted by non-governmental advocacy bodies such as the IAF, have been used.74 As indicated in the International Lunar Research Station Guide for Partnership, the evaluation of potential joint programmes will be negotiated with either China or Russia separately depending on the mission.
This approach is comparatively untransparent and selective. The only publicly known discussion happened in late September 2021, at the China International Aviation & Aerospace Exhibition in Zhuhai. During the exhibition, there was a closed-door workshop on the ILRS jointly hosted by the CNSA and Roscosmos.75 According to media reports, space experts from France, Germany, Italy, Malaysia, the Netherlands and Thailand were invited to participate in the session, as well as officials from UNOOSA and diplomats from unspecified countries. Since it was a closed-door discussion, it is unclear who participated and what was discussed as no communiqué was published.76 The procedure of closed-door workshops is in stark contrast to the institutionalised and transparent approach used for the Tianhe programme.77 By contrast, the ILRS programme was not framed as a co-operation programme with the UN and UN institutions were not heavily involved in the process.
One example of this is the choice of setting for releasing information about the programmes, which in itself can be considered as a form of diplomacy. In the case of Tianhe/CSS, UNOOSA hosted events at its headquarters in Vienna, which were chosen for the release of important information regarding the programme. Unlike Tianhe/CSS, the two most important ILRS announcements, the roadmap and the first round of discussion for international co-operation, were made at a Russia-hosted event by a non-governmental organisation (the IAF) and a Chinese-hosted exhibition famous for military equipment displays. Furthermore, for Tianhe/CSS, UNOOSA was substantially involved throughout the handbook drafting and project selection process as an impartial international actor, providing credence and legitimacy to the CSS programme. Such a level of involvement of UN institutions was not seen in the negotiation process of the ILRS.
US and Chinese space projects for the Moon in comparison
Citation: The Hague Journal of Diplomacy 18, 2-3 (2023) ; 10.1163/1871191x-bja10155
US and Chinese space projects for the Moon in comparison
Citation: The Hague Journal of Diplomacy 18, 2-3 (2023) ; 10.1163/1871191x-bja10155
US and Chinese space projects for the Moon in comparison
Citation: The Hague Journal of Diplomacy 18, 2-3 (2023) ; 10.1163/1871191x-bja10155
When China tries to widen the range of partners for the ILRS, it does not do so via UN channels. To enable future Chang’E missions, the CNSA is looking for additional partnerships beyond Russia and has even, according to some observers, deliberately downplayed Russian involvement.78 One example of a new bilateral agreement is the recent co-operation agreement between China and the United Arab Emirates (UAE). In September 2022, the UAE and China struck a bilateral agreement on the UAE’s participation in the Chang’E 7 Lunar mission to the south pole of the Moon.79 Chang’E 7 is one of the most important preliminary missions of the ILRS, for its primary objectives are to ‘investigate the topography, composition and subsurface structure of the landing site and the sample collection area; and to collect the samples at the Lunar South Pole and return them to the Earth for analysis in the future’.80 This mission is crucial for it provides important information for the ILRS. The application round for joining the ILRS was mainly announced through the CNSA’s official website and in a series of CNSA press releases in 2021.81 In September 2022, a bilateral agreement was signed between China and the UAE, stating that the latter’s Rashid-2 lunar rover will be piggybacking on the Chang’E 7 mission. The details of the final memorandum of understanding are unclear, but the UAE will be responsible for designing and manufacturing the rover, while the CNSA will provide launch service, lunar lander and data reception, and the two parties will share the results of this mission. Nonetheless, Russia and China are still maintaining their plans for the ILRS.
5 Conclusion
The study of the Tianhe/CSS programme and the ILRS programme reveals a set of diverging diplomatic approaches. The comparison of two of China’s crucial space projects presents evidence that different institutional settings can have effects as intermediate variables on strategic choices in space diplomacy. The reasons for China choosing to co-operate with other space actors in the case of Tianhe/CSS are manifold. Firstly, as a space station in Earth orbit, the Tianhe/CSS programme falls under the jurisdiction of the core international treaties to which China is a party. Within an environment of high institutionalisation, legitimacy rests on the recognition and implementation of UN treaties on space. While the Chinese government uses UN institutions to improve its status as an international space leader, China behaves as a status quo power. Secondly, by framing the Tianhe/CSS as a co-operative programme organised under the umbrella of UNOOSA, China can ensure that a broad consensus can be reached with potential international partners it seeks to attract. Following the multilateral practice encouraged by the UN and working through UN institutions becomes the most effective way for the Chinese government to organise co-operation. The ISS, even though China was excluded from it, represents a parallel case. Specifically, the ISS was not directly framed as co-operation between ISS partners and UNOOSA, but core documents explicitly reference the international treaties governing space affairs within the International Space Station Intergovernmental Agreement in 1998. Within the ISS Agreement, the principles that became COPUOS were fully recognised, legitimising the ISS Agreement.82
In the case of the ILRS, given the lower institutional density, the diplomatic approach is shaped by great power competition and terrestrial alignments, such as the one between China and Russia. The secrecy, lack of openness and absence, by and large, of UN-based procedures indicate that scientific co-operation for Moon projects follows a pattern shaped by realpolitik and (between the United States and China) zero-sum thinking. As evidenced by the United States’ Artemis programme and China’s ILRS, low institutional density results not only in intensifying competition over creating new institutional formats, but also in delineating diplomatic approaches marked by exclusivity, seemingly rejecting the inclusivity promoted by established UN institutions.
Notably, the CNSA’s attempts to attract more direct international partners, especially major space actors, for the Moon station have not been successful. The lack of reception among other major space actors to the ILRS is related to the conditions of low institutional density, in which the competition with NASA’s Artemis programme has developed a mutually exclusive pattern. The goals of the two projects are similar, as they both seek to establish a base on the Moon that could host human inhabitants for prolonged periods and eventually enable space actors to exploit the vast resources of the Moon.83 In contrast to the ILRS, Artemis has attracted the attention of several spacefaring countries. Twenty-three countries have signed the Artemis Accords confirming their participation and agreement to the regulations of the programme. These partners include Australia, Brazil, Canada, Isle of Man, Italy, Japan, Luxembourg, New Zealand, South Korea, Ukraine, the UAE, the United Kingdom and the United States. Many of them have also applied for the CSS. Due to the Wolf amendment, which prevents US entities from co-operating with China on space matters, China is not included in the Artemis programme at all. While scholars and NASA officials have previously expressed interest in co-operating with the Chinese Chang’E missions to the Moon, official co-operation is still not an option for the two major space powers.
While the ‘Sino-American rivalry for the Moon’ could be interpreted as ‘a failure from both the liberal internationalist and constructivist perspectives’,84 we suggest that a comparison between the CSS and the ILRS illustrates the continued explanatory power of an institutional approach. Lower or respectively higher institutional density correlates with diverging dominant modes by which Chinese space diplomacy operates. The co-existence and mix of bargaining and communication approaches is consistent with recent developments of space law as ‘constitutional multipolarity’ emerges, undermining ‘the uniformity of the regime’.85 The concrete causal mechanisms of what could be called fields of ‘institutional gravity’ in space need to be further explored to understand the trajectories of emerging institutional designs and dynamics shaping infrastructures and interactions on the Moon and possibly other planets. The study of space assets and the related science diplomacy in space requires further theorisation, bringing together the literature on interactions between infrastructure and geopolitical dynamics on the one hand,86 and scholarship on governance arrangements across differing levels of institutional density, which shape project designs, choices of partners and collaboration practices, on the other hand. On the level of policy-making and political rhetoric, the case studies suggest that the increasingly fragmented and competitively institutionalised frameworks for co-operation with respect to activities on the Moon are mutually reinforcing with contemporary antagonistic terrestrial politics.
Bibliography
Alter, Karen and Sophie Meunier. ‘The Politics of International Regime Complexity’. Perspectives on Politics 7 (1) (2009), 13-24. DOI 10.1017/S1537592709090033.
Aoki, Setsuko. ‘Domestic Legal Conditions for Space Activities in Asia’. American Journal of International Law 113 (2019), 69-84. DOI 10.1017/aju.2019.14.
Baiocchi, Dave and William Welser. ‘The Democratization of Space: New Actors Need New Rules’. Foreign Affairs 94 (3) (2015), 98-104.
Benabdallah, Lina. ‘Contesting the International Order by Integrating It: The Case of China’s Belt and Road Initiative’. Third World Quarterly 40 (1) (2019), 92-108. DOI 10.1080/01436597.2018.1529539.
Besha, Patrick. ‘Policy Making in China’s Space Program: A History and Analysis of the Chang’s Lunar Orbiter Project’. Space Policy 26 (4) (2010), 214-221. DOI 10.1016/j.spacepol.2010.08.005.
Bobylev, Sergei. ‘Space Chief to Discuss Co-operation on Moon with China by End of May’. TASS Russian News Agency, 29 May 2022. https://tass.com/science/1445167.
Brittingham, Bryon C. ‘Does the World Really Need New Space Law’. Oregon Review of International Law 12 (2010), 36-39.
CMS (China Manned Space Engineering Office). ‘Tiangong-1 Has Fully Completed Various In-Orbit Test Tasks and Officially Terminated Data Services’. 21 March 2016. http://www.cmse.gov.cn/xwzx/yzjz/201603/t20160321_45028.html.
CMS. ‘Tiangong-2 Space Lab Successfully Launched’. 15 September 2016. http://www.cmse.gov.cn/ztbd/xwzt/kjsysfxrw/rwdt/201609/t20160915_39695.html.
CNSA (China National Space Administration). ‘Joint Statement on the ILRS中国国家航天局和俄罗斯国家航天集团公司关于合作建设国际月球科研站的联合声明’. 29 April 2021a. http://www.cnsa.gov.cn/n6758823/n6758840/c6811963/content.html.
CNSA. ‘International Lunar Research Station (ILRS) Guide for Partnership’. 16 June 2021b. http://www.cnsa.gov.cn/english/n6465652/n6465653/c6812150/content.html.
CNSA. ‘China and Russia Hosted Workshop on ILRS中俄联合举行国际月球科 研站合作研讨会’. 27 September 2021c. http://www.cnsa.gov.cn/n6758823/n6758838/c6812549/content.html.
CNSA. ‘CNSA Invited Diplomats to ILRS Workshop in Zhuhai 国家航天局邀请多国驻华使节参加2021珠海论坛和第十三届中国国际航空航天博览会系列活动’. 30 September 2021d. http://www.cnsa.gov.cn/n6758823/n6758838/c6812665/content.html.
CNSA. ‘Wu Yanhua, Deputy Administrator of the National Space Administration, and Al-Mari, Director of the Rashid Space Center in the United Arab Emirates, signed a co-operation agreement on lunar exploration 国家航天局副局长吴艳华与阿联酋拉希德航天中心主任艾尔马里签署探月合作协议’. 17 September 2022a. http://www.cnsa.gov.cn/n6758823/n6758838/c6840898/content.html.
CNSA. ‘Announcement of Opportunity Solicitating for Payloads onboard Chang’E-7 Mission’. 2022b. http://www.cnsa.gov.cn/english/n6465652/n6465653/c6840870/part/6797907.pdf.
Cordesman, Anthony H. ‘Chinese Space Strategy and Developments’. Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS), 2016. http://csis-website-prod.s3.amazonaws.com/s3fs-public/publication/160819_Chinese_Space_Strategy_Developments.pdf.
Daniels, Mathew. ‘The History and Future of US China Competition and Co-operation in Space’. Defense Technical Information Center, November 2020. https://apps.dtic.mil/sti/citations/AD1116894.
Dawson, Linda. The Politics and Perils of Space Exploration: Who Will Compete, Who Will Dominate? (London: Springer Nature, 2020), 1-24.
de Goede, Marieke and Carola Westermeier. ‘Infrastructural Geopolitics’. International Studies Quarterly 66(3) (2022), sqac033.
Dolman, Everett C. Astropolitik: Classical Geopolitics in the Space Age (London: Routledge, 2001). DOI 10.4324/9780203016640.
Fan, Jie. ‘Adaptative Strategy of Powerful Country of Science and Technology for Modernization of China’s Space Governance’. Bulletin of Chinese Academy of Sciences (Chinese Version) 35 (5) (2020), 564-575. DOI 10.16418/j.issn.1000-3045.20200502001.
Flink, Tim and Ulrich Schreiterer. ‘Science Diplomacy at the Intersection of S&T Policies and Foreign Affairs: Toward a Typology of National Approaches’. Science and Public Policy 37 (9) (2010), 665-677. DOI 10.3152/030234210X12778118264530.
Freeland, Steven. ‘Peaceful Purposes? Governing the Military Uses of Outer Space’. European Journal of Law Reform 18 (1) (2016), 35-51. DOI 10.5553/EJLR/138723702016018001003.
Galliott, Jai. Commercial Space Exploration: Ethics, Policy and Governance (London: Routledge, 2016).
Gangale, Thomas. The Development of Outer Space: Sovereignty and Property Rights in International Space Law (Westport, CT: Praeger, 2009).
Goswami, Namrata. ‘China in Space: Ambitions and Possible Conflict’. Strategic Studies Quarterly 12 (1) (2018), 74-97.
Gronau, Jennifer and Henning Schmidtke. ‘The Quest for Legitimacy in World Politics — International Institutions’ Legitimation Strategies’. Review of International Studies 42 (3) (2015), 535-557. DOI 10.1017/S0260210515000492.
Grove, Stephen. ‘Interpreting Article II of the Outer Space Treaty’. Fordham Law Review 37 (1968), 349-351.
Gui, Qinchang, Chengliang Liu and Debin Du. ‘Globalization of Science and International Scientific Collaboration: A Network Perspective’. Geoforum 105 (2019), 1-12.
Guo, Huadong and Ji Wu. ‘Development Strategy and Roadmap for Space Science, Applications and Technology to 2050’. In Space Science & Technology in China: A Roadmap to 2050, eds. Huadong Guo and Ji Wu (Berlin: Springer, 2010).
Hannan, Michael and Glenn Carroll. Dynamics of Organizational Populations: Density, Legitimation, and Competition (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992).
He, Qisong. ‘China’s Space Power Strategy in the New Era’. Asian Perspective 45 (4) (2021), 785-807. DOI 10.1353/apr.2021.0041.
He, Qizhi. ‘The Outer Space Treaty in Perspective’. Journal of Space Law 25 (1997), 93-101.
Hickman, John. ‘Research Viewpoint: International Relations and the Second Space Race between the United States and China’. Astropolitics 17 (3) (2019), 178-190.
Hobe, Stephan. Space Law (Baden-Baden: Nomos Verlag, 2019).
Hong, Yang. ‘The “Tiangong” Chinese Space Station Project’. Frontiers 2 (2018), 278-283. DOI 10.15302/J-FEM-2018202.
Howse, Robert and Ruti Teitel. ‘Beyond Compliance: Rethinking Why International Law Really Matters’. Global Policy 1 (2) (2010), 127-136.
Hunter, Cameron. ‘The Forgotten First Iteration of the “Chinese Space Threat” to US National Security’. Space Policy 47 (2019), 158-165. DOI 10.1016/j.spacepol.2018.11.003.
IAF (International Astronautical Federation). ‘Road Map for Creation of the International Lunar Research Station’. 16 June 2021. https://www.iafastro.org/events/global-series-conferences/glex-2021/plenary-programme/wednesday-16-june-2021/road-map-for-creation-of-the-international-research-lunar-station.html.
Iliopoulos, Nikolaos and Beta Miguel Esteban. ‘Sustainable Space Exploration and Its Relevance to the Privatization of Space Ventures’. Acta Astronautica 167 (2020), 85-92. DOIhttps://doi.org/10.1016/j.actaastro.2019.09.037.
Israel, Brian. ‘Space Governance 3.0’. Notre Dame Journal of International & Comparative Law 48 (2019), 715-730.
Jakhu Ram S. and Joseph Pelton. ‘Overview of the Existing Mechanisms of Global Space Governance’. In Global Space Governance: An International Study, eds. Ram Jakhu and Joseph Pelton (Berlin: Springer, 2017), 15-63.
Johnson-Freese, Joan. ‘China’s Space Ambitions: It’s Not All About the U.S’. Georgetown Journal of International Affairs 15 (1) (2014), 139-148.
Johnson-Freese, Joan. ‘Build on the Outer Space Treaty’. Nature 550 (7675) (2017), 182-184.
Johnston, Iain Alastair. ‘Is China a Status Quo Power?’. International Security 27 (4) (2003), 6-8.
Jones, Andrew. ‘China Seeks New Partners for Lunar and Deep Space Exploration’. SpaceNews, 28 September 2022. https://spacenews.com/china-seeks-new-partners-for-lunar-and-deep-space-exploration/.
Keohane, Robert. ‘The Demand for International Regimes’. International Organization 36 (2) (1982), 325-355. DOI 10.1017/S002081830001897X.
Keohane, Robert O. ‘International Institutions: Two Approaches’. International Studies Quarterly 32 (4) (1988), 379-396.
Keohane, Robert O. ‘Institutions: Can Interdependence Work?’. Foreign Policy 110 (1998), 82-194. DOI 10.2307/1149278.
Khan, Zulfqar and Ahmad Khan. ‘Chinese Capabilities as a Global Space Power’. Astropolitics 13 (3) (2015), 238-239. DOI 10.1080/14777622.2015.1084168.
Kojima, Ayami, Daniel GarcíaYárnoz and Simonetta Di Pippo. ‘Access to Space: A New Approach by the United Nations Office for Outer Space Affairs’. Acta Astronautica 152 (2018), 201-207. DOI 10.1016/j.actaastro.2018.07.041.
Koremenos, Barbara, Charles Lipson and Duncan Snidal. ‘The Rational Design of International Institutions’. International Organization 55 (2001), 761-799. DOI 10.1162/002081801317193592.
Kostenko, Inesa. ‘Current Problems and Challenges in International Space Law: Legal Aspects’. Advanced Space Law 5(1) (2020), 48-57. https://doi.org/10.29202/asl/2020/5/5.
Krepon, Michael, Eric Hagt, Shen Dingli, Bao Shixiu, Michael Pillsbury and Ashley Tellis. ‘China’s Military Space Strategy: An Exchange’. Survival 50 (1) (2008), 157-198. DOI 10.1080/00396330801899512.
Kulacki, Gregory and Jeffrey G. Lewis. ‘Understanding China’s Antisatellite Test’. The Nonproliferation Review 15 (2) (2008), 335-347. DOI 10.1080/10736700802117346.
Kyriakopoulos, George. ‘Positive Space Law and Privatization of Outer Space: Fundamental Antinomies’. The Space Treaties at Crossroads (Cham: Springer, 2019), 1-13. DOI 10.1007/978-973-030-01479-7_1.
Leib, Karl. ‘State Sovereignty in Space: Current Models and Possible Futures’. Astropolitics 13 (1) (2015), 1-24. DOI 10.1080/14777622.2015.1015112.
Li, Chunlai, Chi Wang, Yong Wei and Yangting Lin. ‘China’s Present and Future Lunar Exploration Program’. Science 365 (6450) (2019), 238-239. DOI 10.1126/science.aax9908.
Lin, Sen. ‘Building a Dream in “Heavenly Palace” | The Aging of the International Space Station is Intensifying, and Where Will the Future Space Station of the United States Go?’ The Paper 澎湃新闻, 4 May 2021. https://m.thepaper.cn/renmin_prom.jsp?contid=12518023.
Lin, Xu, Yongliao Zou and Jia Yingzhou. ‘China’s Planning for Deep Space Exploration and Lunar Exploration before 2030’. Chinese Journal of Space Science 38 (5) (2018),591-592. DOI 10.11728/cjss2018.05.591.
Listner, Michael. ‘The Ownership and Exploitation of Outer Space: A Look at Foundational Law and Future Legal Challenges to Current Claims’. Regent Journal of International Law 1 (2003), 75-88.
Ma, Xinmin. ‘The Development of Space Law: Framework, Objectives and Orientations’. Speech at United Nations/China/APSCO Workshop on Space Law, 17 November 2014. https://www.unoosa.org/documents/pdf/spacelaw/activities/2014/splaw2014-keynote.pdf.
Mayer, Maximilian and Michele Acuto. ‘The Global Governance of Large Technical Systems’. Millennium 43 (2) (2015), 660-683.
Meyer, Zach. ‘Private Commercialization of Space in an International Regime: A Proposal for a Space District’. Northwestern Journal of International Law and Business 30 (1) (2010), 241-261.
Migaud, Michael R., Robert A. Greer and Justin B. Bullock. ‘Developing an Adaptive Space Governance Framework’. Space Policy 55 (2021). DOI 10.1016/j.spacepol.2020.101400.
Moltz, James. ‘China, the United States, and Prospects for Asian Space Co-operation’. Journal of Contemporary China 20 (68) (2011a), 69-87. DOI 10.1080/10670564.2011.520847.
Moltz, James. Asia’s Space Race: National Motivations, Regional Rivalries, and International Risks (New York: Columbia University Press, 2011b).
NASA (National Aeronautics and Space Administration). ‘NASA’s Lunar Exploration Program Overview’. September 2020. https://www.nasa.gov/sites/default/files/atoms/files/artemis_plan-20200921.pdf.
Paliouras, Zachos. ‘The Non-Appropriation Principle: The Grundnorm of International Space Law’. Leiden Journal of International Law 27 (1) (2014), 37-54. DOI 10.1017/S0922156513000630.
Pekkanen, Saadia M. ‘Governing the New Space Race’. American Journal of International Law 113 (2019), 92-97. DOI 10.1017/aju.2019.16.
Pollpeter, Kevin. ‘China’s Space Program: Making China Strong, Rich, and Respected’. Asia Policy 27 (2) (2020), 12-18.
Qiu, Bingqing and Zhe Hu. ‘China and Russia Made an Announcement Regarding the ILRS中俄发布关于合作建设国际月球科研站的联合声明’. Xinhua, 4 April 2021. http://www.xinhuanet.com/2021-04/24/c_1127369152.htm.
Rathbun, Brian C. Trust in International Co-operation: International Security Institutions, Domestic Politics and American Multilateralism, vol. 121 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011).
Raustiala, Kal. ‘Institutional Proliferation and the International Legal Order’. In Interdisciplinary Perspectives on International Law and International Relations: The State of the Art, eds. Jeffrey L. Dunoff and Mark A. Pollack (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013), 293-320.
Riddervold, Marriane and Akasemi Newsome. ‘Introduction: Co-operation, Conflict, and Interaction in the Global Commons’. International Relations 35 (3) (2021), 365-383. DOI 10.1177/00471178211036598.
See, Eng Teong. ‘Commercialization of Space Activities — The Laws and Implications’. Journal of Air Law and Commerce 82 (2017), 145-153.
Snidal, Duncan. ‘Coordination versus Prisoners’ Dilemma: Implications for International Co-operation and Regimes’. American Political Science Review 79 (4) (1985), 923-965. DOI 10.2307/1956241.
Snidal, Duncan. ‘International Co-operation among Relative Gains Maximizer’. International Studies Quarterly 35 (4) (1991), 387-402. DOI 10.2307/2600947.
Solomon, Lewis D. The Privatization of Space Exploration: Business, Technology, Law and Policy (London: Routledge, 2017).
Solomone, Stacy. China’s Strategy in Space (New York: Springer, 2013).
State Department of China. ‘China and Russia Signed ILRS Mou 中俄两国签署合作建设国际月球科研站谅解备忘录’. 9 March 2021. http://www.gov.cn/xinwen/2021-03/09/content_5591869.htm.
Stein, Arthur A. ‘Coordination and Collaboration: Regimes in an Anarchic World’. International Organization 36 (2) (1982), 299-324. http://www.jstor.org/stable/2706524.
Stein, Arthur A. ‘Constrained Sovereignty: The Growth of International Intrusiveness’. In The New Great Power Coalition: Toward a World Concert of Nations, ed. Richard N. Rosecrance (New York: Rowman and Littlefield, 1994), 261-281.
Stovpets, Oleksandr and Denys Svyrydenko. ‘Chinese Perspectives in the “Space Race” through the Prism of Global Scientific and Technological Leadership’. Philosophy and Cosmology 25 (5) (2020), 57-68. DOI 10.29202/phil-cosm/25/5.
Su, Ping and Maximilian Mayer. ‘Science Diplomacy and Trust Building: “Science China” in the Arctic’. Global Policy 9 (2018), 23-28. DOI 10.1111/1758-5899.12576.
Svyrydenko, Denys and Oleksandr Stovpets. ‘Cultural and Economic Strategies of Modern China: In Search of the Co-operation Models across the Global World’. Future Human Image 13 (2020), 102-112.
Taylor, Ian and Zhangxi Cheng. ‘China as a “Rising Power”: Why the Status Quo Matters’. Third World Quarterly 43 (1) (2020), 244-258. DOI 10.1080/01436597.2021.2005462.
Tellis, Ashley J. ‘China’s Military Space Strategy’. Survival 49 (3) (2007), 41-72. DOI 10.1080/00396330701564752.
UNOOSA. ‘Treaty on Principles Governing the Activities of States in the Exploration and Use of Outer Space, Including the Moon and Other Celestial Bodies’. 19 December 1966. https://www.unoosa.org/oosa/en/ourwork/spacelaw/treaties/outerspacetreaty.html.
UNOOSA. ‘Agreement Governing the Activities of States on the Moon and Other Celestial Bodies’. 5 December 1979. https://www.unoosa.org/oosa/en/ourwork/spacelaw/treaties/moon-agreement.html.
UNOOSA, ‘United Nations and China Agree to Increased Space Co-operation’. 16 June 2016. https://www.unoosa.org/oosa/en/informationfor/media/2016-unis-os-468.html.
UNOOSA, ‘United Nations/China Co-operation on the Utilization of the China Space Station: First Announcement of Opportunity’. 28 May 2018a. https://www.unoosa.org/documents/doc/psa/hsti/CSS_1stAO/CSS_1stAO_Announcement_2018.pdf.
UNOOSA. ‘UN And China Invite Applications to Conduct Experiments on-board China’s Space Station’. 28 May 2018b. https://www.unoosa.org/oosa/en/informationfor/media/2018-unis-os-496.html.
UNOOSA. ‘The United Nations/China Co-operation on the Utilization of the China Space Station (CSS)’. n.d. https://www.unoosa.org/oosa/en/ourwork/access2space4all/China-Space-Station/CSS_Index.html.
UNOOSA and CMS. ‘United Nations/China Co-operation on the Utilization of the China Space Station’. 20 September 2018. https://www.unoosa.org/documents/doc/psa/hsti/CSS_1stAO/Leaflet_18-05889_Co-operation_ebook_updated14092018.pdf.
US Department of State. ‘Agreement among the Government of Canada, Governments of the Member States of the European Space Agency, the Government of Japan, the Government of the Russian Federation and the Government of the United States of America Concerning Co-operation on the Civil International Space Station’. 1998. https://www.state.gov/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/12927-Multilateral-Space-Space-Station-1.29.1998.pdf.
Vlasic, Ivan A. ‘The Space Treaty: A Preliminary Evaluation’. California Law Review 55 (2) (1967), 507-519. DOI 10.2307/3479358.
Wang, Guoyu. ‘NASA’s Artemis Accords: The Path to a United Space Law or a Divided One?’. The Space Review, 24 August 2020. https://www.thespacereview.com/article/4009/1.
Weber, Katja. Hierarchy amidst Anarchy: Transaction Costs and Institutional Choice (Albany: SUNY Press, 2000).
Xinhua. ‘China, Russia Ink Accord on Building Scientific Research Station on Moon’. 9 March 2021a. http://english.www.gov.cn/news/internationalexchanges/202103/09/content_WS60477c8ac6d0719374afa78d.html.
Xinhua. ‘China Welcomes Foreign Astronauts to Space Station Flights’. 15 October 2021b. http://www.news.cn/english/2021-10/15/c_1310245449.htm.
Zhang, Lulu, Jian Yang, Jingjing Zang, Yuhong Wang and Liguang Sun. ‘Reforming China’s Polar Science and Technology System’. Interdisciplinary Science Reviews 44(3-4) (2019), 387-401. DOI 10.1080/03080188.2019.1627639.
Kunhan Li
is a doctoral candidate in History and Politics at the School of International Studies, University of Nottingham, Ningbo, China. His PhD thesis is entitled ‘How do space powers compete: Strategic choices in space competition and pathways to co-operation’. He previously studied at the University of Chicago and the University of Nottingham, UK, where he studied International Relations. His main research interests are space politics, great power politics, International Relations theories and China-US relations.
Maximilian Mayer
is a Junior Professor of International Relations and Global Politics of Technology, University of Bonn, Germany. His research interests include the global politics of science, innovation and technology, China’s foreign and energy policy, and theories of International Relations. He is a co-editor of The Global Politics of Science and Technology (2014, vols. 1, 2), Art and Sovereignty in Global Politics (2016), and edited Rethinking the Silk-Road: China’s Belt and Road Initiative and Emerging Eurasian Relations (2018).
This research was partially funded by the Return Program of the Ministry of Culture and Science of the State of North Rhine-Westphalia, research group ‘Infrastructures of China’s Modernity and Their Global Constitutive Effects’.
Khan and Khan 2015; Li et al. 2019.
Pekkanen 2019; Hickman 2019; Freeland 2016, 35.
Su and Mayer 2018; Zhang et al. 2019; Gui et al. 2019.
Svyrydenko and Stovpets 2020.
Moltz 2011a; Dawson 2020, 1-24.
Johnston 2003; Taylor and Cheng 2020; Benabdallah 2019.
Hickman 2019.
Guo and Wu 2010.
Li et al. 2019.
Li et al. 2019.
Pollpeter 2020, 12-18.
Dolman 2001.
Baiocchi and Welser 2015; Iliopoulos and Esteban 2020; Kyriakopoulos 2019, 1-13.
Solomon 2017; Meyer 2010; See 2017.
Galliott 2016; Migaud 2021; Jakhu and Pelton 2017; Pekkanen 2019.
Sénéchal-Perrouault 2021.
Kulacki and Lewis 2008, 335-347.
Tellis 2007, 41-72; Krepon et al. 2008; Solomone 2013.
Moltz 2010, 69-87.
Goswami 2018, 74-97.
Daniels 2020.
Johnson-Freese 2014, 139; Moltz 2011a; Qisong 2021; Fan 2020, 564-575.
Cordesman 2016; Fan 2020.
Besha 2010, 214-221.
Hunter 2019, 158-165.
Flink 2010, 665-677.
Riddervold and Newsome 2021, 365-383.
Keohane 1988, 383.
Stein 1982, 299-324; Stein 1994.
Snidal 1985, 923-942; Snidal 1991.
Koremenos 2001, 761-799; Keohane 1998, 82-194; Weber 2000.
Rathbun 2011; Keohane 1982.
Gronau and Schmidtke 2015, 535-557; Rathbun 2011.
Hannan and Carroll 1992.
Alter and Meunier 2009.
Raustiala 2013, 293-320; Howse and Teitel 2010.
Hobe 2019; Kostenko 2020; Ma 2014.
UNOOSA 1966.
Grove 1968, 349.
Vlasic 1967; He 1997; Johnson-Freese 2017.
UNOOSA 1979.
Brittingham 2010, 38.
Aoki 2019; Israel 2019.
Wang 2020.
Gangale 2009; Leib 2015, 1-24.
Listner 2003, 75; Paliouras 2014, 37-54.
Jakhu and Pelton 2017.
Hong 2018, 278-283.
CMS 2016.
UNOOSA 2016.
UNOOSA 2016.
UNOOSA and CMS 2018.
UNOOSA 2018a.
UNOOSA 2018a.
UNOOSA 2018b.
UNOOSA 2018b.
UNOOSA and CMS 2018.
Lin 2021.
UNOOSA 2018a.
UNOOSA n.d.
Xinhua 2021a.
Kojima, García Yárnoz and Pippo 2018.
CNSA 2021a, 2.
Qiu and Hu 2021.
Xinhua 2021b.
CNSA 2021c.
CNSA 2021b, 15-16.
IAF 2021.
IAF 2021.
IAF 2021.
Jones 2022.
CNSA 2021b.
IAF 2021.
CNSA 2021c.
CNSA 2021d.
CNSA 2021d.
Jones 2022.
CNSA 2022a.
Lin, Zou and Yingzhou 2018.
CNSA 2022b.
US Department of State 1998.
NASA 2020.
Hickman 2019, 187.
Israel 2019.
Mayer and Acuto 2015; de Goede and Westermeier 2022.