A few months ago, I completed my thesis on the militarization and governance of outer space – a subject that seemed niche when I began but quickly revealed itself as one of the most pressing frontiers of modern geopolitics. The idea came from my professor at NUML, Dr. Attique-ur-Rehman, and what started as an academic exercise turned into a deep dive into the silent, shadowy race for space dominance.
During the research, one realization kept echoing back at me: the space race is no longer a future threat. It is a ticking bomb that has already exploded. And the scary part? It’s going to explode even more, both vertically with new tech and horizontally as more countries join in.
My thesis advocated for global frameworks, for governance that prioritizes the deweaponization of space before the environment becomes irreversibly hostile. But it’s becoming increasingly clear that while academics and diplomats call for cooperation, countries are racing for control. The very thing I feared – an AI-integrated, militarized space domain – is materializing faster than anticipated.
This week, Türkiye confirmed that it is developing a space-based early warning satellite constellation designed to detect and track ballistic missile threats. To anyone following the country’s trajectory, this is far from surprising.
Türkiye’s defense and aerospace industries have been rapidly scaling over the last decade. It has transitioned from an importer of military technology to a bold and assertive developer. From Bayraktar drones making headlines in conflicts across Eurasia to the unveiling of its indigenous 5th generation fighter jet Kaan, the momentum is undeniable. Even the naval sector has been making waves with the MILGEM corvette and plans for a new aircraft carrier.
Now, with its eyes turned skyward, Türkiye is carving out a new frontier. The plan for a missile-tracking satellite constellation complements President Erdo?an’s broader vision of strategic autonomy. Last year, he remarked that “Türkiye is expanding its presence in space despite all obstacles.” The launch of IMECE, a high-resolution Earth observation satellite, and Türksat 6A, the country’s first largely indigenous communication satellite, mark serious steps toward this goal.
State media has echoed the enthusiasm. Anadolu Agency called it “Türkiye’s technological leap in 2024: A year of space, defense.” TRT World described it as “Türkiye’s cosmic odyssey,” reflecting on how the country went from regional observer to active space contender in a matter of years.
These aren’t just headlines. They reflect an ambition that’s been carefully cultivated, especially given the region’s increasing volatility. Türkiye shares borders and airspace with Syria, Iran, Iraq, Armenia, and is deeply involved in the Eastern Mediterranean. Threats aren’t hypothetical – they are real, proximate, and multifaceted. And, in the current scenario, we’ve seen relentless hostility by an entity full of hubris, carrying hostility towards each neighbour and beyond; Israel. So the threat is real. Israel is an unacceptable and unreliable entity, and the situation in Syria is showcasing that Israel will not stop, unless it’s made to stop, by force, and other option, I think it’s non-existent! I opened X, and the first post on my feed showed the news; Israel bombed Syria, again. It’d necessary for Turkiye to arm itself to teeth.
So, the announcement of a multi-layered air defense system named the Steel Dome – Türkiye’s own version of Israel’s Iron Dome – fits into this broader architecture of self-reliance. These systems won’t just protect against drones or short-range rockets. With a space-based early warning layer integrated, the vision expands to full-spectrum defense.
But here’s where it gets tricky. While this is a rational and even necessary step for Ankara, given the threats it faces and the unreliability of external security guarantees, it also adds to the growing clutter in low-Earth orbit. The problem isn’t Türkiye taking these steps. The problem is that many countries are doing the same, and there are few rules, no enforcers, and too much room for miscalculation.
Once artificial intelligence begins to govern these space-borne systems – once satellites begin making split-second decisions based on automated threat detection – the margin for error shrinks dangerously. A false signal, a misidentified object, or an unintended orbital manoeuvre could escalate into conflict.
Astro-politics has become a harsh reality. It’s no longer a distant subplot in international relations. It’s now central to national security doctrines, military procurement, and foreign policy strategies. Countries like China, the US, India, Russia, and now Türkiye are moving decisively into space not just to explore, but to defend, deter, and act.
There’s also a symbolic layer to Türkiye’s space ambitions. It’s about proving capability and autonomy in a system that has long been tilted toward traditional great powers. It’s about joining the elite club of nations that can monitor, defend, and influence from space. In that sense, Türkiye’s initiative is a form of geopolitical signaling – not just to NATO or regional rivals, but to its own people, showing that the country will not be left behind.
And yet, this pursuit of prestige and protection carries a heavy cost.
As more nations move in with overlapping interests, uncoordinated systems, and AI-enhanced capabilities, space risks becoming a minefield. Without robust international agreements, protocols for deconfliction, and transparency measures, the chance of misunderstanding or preemptive behavior increases. The Outer Space Treaty, once the bedrock of peaceful space usage, is now outdated and practically toothless.
While Türkiye’s move is understandable – even commendable in terms of technological advancement – it also contributes to an accelerating arms race above our heads. The dangers aren’t always immediate or visible, but they are compounding silently.
From an academic lens and now a strategic one, it’s clear the final frontier is no longer about exploration alone. Türkiye’s leap into space reflects realism, not recklessness. It is securing its place in a rapidly changing world where waiting means weakness. The risks are real, but so is the necessity. If guided with foresight, Türkiye can shape the rules rather than chase them. The goal is not to dominate space, but to ensure it remains a domain of security and sovereignty. The stars are no longer distant – they are the next stage of geopolitical survival.
