H Ρωσία είναι η Walmart των πυραύλων
Δημοσιεύτηκε: 16 Μάιος 2023, 18:51
THE INITIAL DECADE FOLLOWING THE END OF THE COLD WAR was a time of momentous political and economic changes for Russia. This was doubly true for the Russian space program. Although the Soviet space program was one of two of the world’s most advanced space programs at the time of its collapse, the new post-Cold War government of the Russian Federation was in shambles. Former Soviet elites attempted coups against the new government.
Old Soviet institutions were suddenly privatized, and virtually overnight the phenomenon of Russian oligarchs came into being. Meanwhile, the old Soviet space program survived the fall of Communism—but was it was poorly funded. Space programs are among the most expensive programs a national government could fund. Moscow was bankrupt in the 1990s, and its nascent capitalist economy was too unpredictable to provide consistent levels of funding. Its proto democracy, under the command of the alcoholic Boris Yeltsin, was also a mess—meaning that there was no common mission for its ailing space program other than to avoid being totally canceled.
Following the Cold War, Washington policymakers worried about the possibility of loose nukes and other weapons that the Soviets had built to wage—and win—a hot war with the United States falling into the wrong hands. The potential risk of advanced ballistic missile technology being illegally proliferated to rogue states was very high. Thus, Washington proposed a series of initiatives aimed at preventing the dissemination of Russian missile technology from the newly formed, chaotic Russian Federation to rogue states, such as North Korea, or even stateless terrorist organizations, such as al-Qaeda. Entirely new linkages were formed between the West and Russia’s flailing space program that would have been inconceivable even during the height of Cold War-era détente. Notably, according to space policy analyst James Clay Moltz, old Soviet space and missile enterprises, such as Khrunichev and Energomash, rapidly moved away from their initial focus on military hardware and into providing Western companies with commercial products. Namely, these storied Cold War-era Russian space firms provided essential pieces of technology for the Pentagon. The former Soviet conglomerates-turned-private enterprises ultimately partnered with American defense contractors, like Boeing and Lockheed Martin, to supply the United States with reliable, advanced, and relatively cheap space equipment.
As Moltz describes the US-Russian post-Cold War relationship on military space policy:
Efforts by the US government in the Department of Defense Cooperative Threat Reduction Program helped keep Russian missile specialists from emigrating to countries of proliferation concern, sustained the bulk of the Russian space infrastructure, and allowed Russia to continue as a leading participant in international human spaceflight, space science, and space-launch services.
Essentially, the combination of US government funding and the sale of Russian space assets to Western investors created the modern Russian space program. Slowly, Russian space policymakers recognized the inherent economic value for Moscow in the private space sector. Plus, the sustaining of Russia’s space program meant that Moscow could remain strategically involved in space development. Over time, American largesse, coupled with Washington’s obsessive quest to keep Russia as an enemy from the late 1990s throughout the 2000s, would lead to this advanced Russian space program, along with Russia in general, becoming a strategic liability for the safety and security of the United States.
Yet, the 1990s and early 2000s were a time of great progress both for the private space sector, which relied heavily on Russian space technology, as well as the flowering of Russia’s indigenous space program. For example, Energomash is a legacy Soviet rocket company that also produced the Energia rockets for the old Soviet Buran space shuttle program. The Russian government owns 80 percent of this firm. Energomash, partnered with a tiny Florida firm called RD Amross, supplies the United States military with the RD-180 and RD-181 rocket engines.4 Energomash’s rocket designs are so simple, powerful, and affordable that the Pentagon uses them to launch sensitive military satellites into orbit even when US-Russian relations are at lowest point since the Cold War ended.5 In fact, Elon Musk, whose SpaceX company is attempting to create a better, cheaper, American-built rocket engine to launch US military satellites in orbit, has described the Russian engines as “brilliant.”6 Meanwhile, a host of private space companies have purchased Russian space equipment, and these Russian machines have become the nucleus of many businesses involved in space.
Most importantly, the opening up of Russia’s space program to Western practices effectively allowed for the once-turgid Soviet mindset of central planning to be replaced by the wildcatting Western capitalist mindset. Projects were undertaken by these Russian firms, in conjunction with Western money, which ultimately redounded to the benefit of Russia’s overall space sector. By 2002, when the Russian economy started becoming solvent, Russia was poised to continue its steady expansion in space that was prematurely ended when the Soviet Union fell. What’s more, Moscow had essentially made much of the West’s space program and budding private space sector companies dependent—in one way or another—on Russian technology. This not only created a highly lucrative market for Russia’s economy, but it also created critical strategic leverage for Moscow over the West.
Just as Russian-owned-and-operated gas pipelines into Europe became a cudgel for Moscow to clobber the West with during the Georgian and Ukrainian crises in 2008 and 2014, the fact that so many aspects of America’s space industry relied upon Russian technology became critical leverage for Moscow to lord over Washington during crisis points between the two powers over the last decade.8 Yet, the essential shifting of the Russian mindset from the Soviet central planning to the free market on matters of space was key. Basically, as Moltz once argued, Russia became the “Walmart” of rocket engines—cheap, effective, and powerful systems became available to many countries and companies around the world, and few could afford to pass up purchasing this technology. Few today can match or outdo the Russian-built systems, though many are trying.
Moscow has been worked into the global supply chain for space. This has occurred for more than twenty years. This is a smaller scale of how the Chinese economy has become essential for maintaining the overall global supply chain. While it is possible for the United States to diversify its reliance on Russian space technology, the fact remains that the United States government quite literally paid and helped to build out the present Russian space capabilities. Because of this, the Russian threat and competitive edge to the United States is severe. It is for this fact that, rather than ranking China as the second-most powerful space program in the world, most analysts insist that Russia remains the second-most advanced and powerful program.
The retention of much of the Soviet capabilities, coupled with the embrace of Western business practices and the decades-long enmeshing of Russia’s space program with the West, has ensured that the Russians remain competitive. Despite the fact that Moscow and Washington became tethered to each other in post-Cold War era, and irrespective of the fact that the Russians benefited so much from a close relationship with the West, Moscow still sought to double-dip. Yes, they resisted the urge to sell off everything to the highest bidder, although, Moscow’s leadership insisted on proliferating many things to less-than-savory countries during the post-Cold War era.
Old Soviet institutions were suddenly privatized, and virtually overnight the phenomenon of Russian oligarchs came into being. Meanwhile, the old Soviet space program survived the fall of Communism—but was it was poorly funded. Space programs are among the most expensive programs a national government could fund. Moscow was bankrupt in the 1990s, and its nascent capitalist economy was too unpredictable to provide consistent levels of funding. Its proto democracy, under the command of the alcoholic Boris Yeltsin, was also a mess—meaning that there was no common mission for its ailing space program other than to avoid being totally canceled.
Following the Cold War, Washington policymakers worried about the possibility of loose nukes and other weapons that the Soviets had built to wage—and win—a hot war with the United States falling into the wrong hands. The potential risk of advanced ballistic missile technology being illegally proliferated to rogue states was very high. Thus, Washington proposed a series of initiatives aimed at preventing the dissemination of Russian missile technology from the newly formed, chaotic Russian Federation to rogue states, such as North Korea, or even stateless terrorist organizations, such as al-Qaeda. Entirely new linkages were formed between the West and Russia’s flailing space program that would have been inconceivable even during the height of Cold War-era détente. Notably, according to space policy analyst James Clay Moltz, old Soviet space and missile enterprises, such as Khrunichev and Energomash, rapidly moved away from their initial focus on military hardware and into providing Western companies with commercial products. Namely, these storied Cold War-era Russian space firms provided essential pieces of technology for the Pentagon. The former Soviet conglomerates-turned-private enterprises ultimately partnered with American defense contractors, like Boeing and Lockheed Martin, to supply the United States with reliable, advanced, and relatively cheap space equipment.
As Moltz describes the US-Russian post-Cold War relationship on military space policy:
Efforts by the US government in the Department of Defense Cooperative Threat Reduction Program helped keep Russian missile specialists from emigrating to countries of proliferation concern, sustained the bulk of the Russian space infrastructure, and allowed Russia to continue as a leading participant in international human spaceflight, space science, and space-launch services.
Essentially, the combination of US government funding and the sale of Russian space assets to Western investors created the modern Russian space program. Slowly, Russian space policymakers recognized the inherent economic value for Moscow in the private space sector. Plus, the sustaining of Russia’s space program meant that Moscow could remain strategically involved in space development. Over time, American largesse, coupled with Washington’s obsessive quest to keep Russia as an enemy from the late 1990s throughout the 2000s, would lead to this advanced Russian space program, along with Russia in general, becoming a strategic liability for the safety and security of the United States.
Yet, the 1990s and early 2000s were a time of great progress both for the private space sector, which relied heavily on Russian space technology, as well as the flowering of Russia’s indigenous space program. For example, Energomash is a legacy Soviet rocket company that also produced the Energia rockets for the old Soviet Buran space shuttle program. The Russian government owns 80 percent of this firm. Energomash, partnered with a tiny Florida firm called RD Amross, supplies the United States military with the RD-180 and RD-181 rocket engines.4 Energomash’s rocket designs are so simple, powerful, and affordable that the Pentagon uses them to launch sensitive military satellites into orbit even when US-Russian relations are at lowest point since the Cold War ended.5 In fact, Elon Musk, whose SpaceX company is attempting to create a better, cheaper, American-built rocket engine to launch US military satellites in orbit, has described the Russian engines as “brilliant.”6 Meanwhile, a host of private space companies have purchased Russian space equipment, and these Russian machines have become the nucleus of many businesses involved in space.
Most importantly, the opening up of Russia’s space program to Western practices effectively allowed for the once-turgid Soviet mindset of central planning to be replaced by the wildcatting Western capitalist mindset. Projects were undertaken by these Russian firms, in conjunction with Western money, which ultimately redounded to the benefit of Russia’s overall space sector. By 2002, when the Russian economy started becoming solvent, Russia was poised to continue its steady expansion in space that was prematurely ended when the Soviet Union fell. What’s more, Moscow had essentially made much of the West’s space program and budding private space sector companies dependent—in one way or another—on Russian technology. This not only created a highly lucrative market for Russia’s economy, but it also created critical strategic leverage for Moscow over the West.
Just as Russian-owned-and-operated gas pipelines into Europe became a cudgel for Moscow to clobber the West with during the Georgian and Ukrainian crises in 2008 and 2014, the fact that so many aspects of America’s space industry relied upon Russian technology became critical leverage for Moscow to lord over Washington during crisis points between the two powers over the last decade.8 Yet, the essential shifting of the Russian mindset from the Soviet central planning to the free market on matters of space was key. Basically, as Moltz once argued, Russia became the “Walmart” of rocket engines—cheap, effective, and powerful systems became available to many countries and companies around the world, and few could afford to pass up purchasing this technology. Few today can match or outdo the Russian-built systems, though many are trying.
Moscow has been worked into the global supply chain for space. This has occurred for more than twenty years. This is a smaller scale of how the Chinese economy has become essential for maintaining the overall global supply chain. While it is possible for the United States to diversify its reliance on Russian space technology, the fact remains that the United States government quite literally paid and helped to build out the present Russian space capabilities. Because of this, the Russian threat and competitive edge to the United States is severe. It is for this fact that, rather than ranking China as the second-most powerful space program in the world, most analysts insist that Russia remains the second-most advanced and powerful program.
The retention of much of the Soviet capabilities, coupled with the embrace of Western business practices and the decades-long enmeshing of Russia’s space program with the West, has ensured that the Russians remain competitive. Despite the fact that Moscow and Washington became tethered to each other in post-Cold War era, and irrespective of the fact that the Russians benefited so much from a close relationship with the West, Moscow still sought to double-dip. Yes, they resisted the urge to sell off everything to the highest bidder, although, Moscow’s leadership insisted on proliferating many things to less-than-savory countries during the post-Cold War era.