It was once the preserve of astronomers and dreamers, a serene stage for satellites and lunar probes. Now, in words that leave little doubt about the new strategic landscape, India’s Defence Minister Rajnath Singh has declared that space is no longer just a scientific frontier but the very heart of national security.

“Space has become indispensable for our economy, our energy needs, and above all, our security,” Singh told an audience in New Delhi last week. His message was simple enough, but the implications are vast: the heavens above are fast becoming a contested battleground, and India intends to ensure it is not caught unarmed in this new theatre of power.

China’s march to orbital supremacy

Singh’s warning cannot be divorced from the looming presence of Beijing. China has poured staggering resources into its space programme, outpacing the United States in sheer number of satellite launches and building sophisticated military space assets under the guise of “dual-use” technology.

Beijing’s People’s Liberation Army (PLA) now commands a space arm equipped with anti-satellite missiles, ground-based jammers and cyber capabilities designed to disable or seize control of rival systems. The Chang’e lunar missions may project scientific ambition, but the reality is far blunter: China sees space as the ultimate high ground in any future conflict.

“China is weaponising space under our very noses,” one senior Indian military officer has stated. “They want to deny us, and anyone else, the ability to operate freely. If India does not act, we will be left in the dark—literally.”

It is a fear grounded in hard fact. Chinese satellites already monitor the Indian Ocean, keeping a watchful eye on Indian naval deployments. The BeiDou navigation system, a rival to America’s GPS, is openly integrated into PLA military planning. In any future border clash in the Himalayas, China could attempt to jam Indian communications or blind Indian surveillance satellites—crippling its forces before the first shot is fired.

Pakistan’s dependency—and the China connection

If China represents the principal threat, Pakistan looms as the perennial irritant. Islamabad’s own space capabilities remain rudimentary, but it has leaned heavily on Beijing for assistance. In 2018, China helped Pakistan launch two satellites, one of which provides remote sensing data with obvious military applications.

For India’s planners, this dependency is no comfort. Pakistan’s well-worn strategy of outsourcing its capabilities—to China for missiles, to the Gulf for finance—applies just as much in orbit. If Beijing extends its satellite reconnaissance and communication services to Islamabad during a crisis, New Delhi could find itself facing a combined challenge across multiple domains.

Singh’s warning, then, is not just rhetoric but a recognition that India’s two greatest rivals are already exploiting space in ways that threaten its security.

Echoes of the 2019 missile test

India has, of course, already shown its hand. In 2019, it conducted its first anti-satellite test, destroying one of its own satellites in low-earth orbit. The test was widely condemned for generating orbital debris, but it sent a clear message to Beijing and Islamabad alike: India, too, has the capacity to disrupt enemy space assets.

Since then, the pace has quickened. ISRO continues to press ahead with ambitious planetary missions, but the Defence Research and Development Organisation (DRDO) has been tasked with quietly building the resilience of India’s military space infrastructure. Singh’s open declaration suggests that the government is no longer content to operate in silence—it wants the world, and above all its neighbours, to know that India will not be left behind.

A global scramble above the stratosphere

The international context is equally stark. America’s Space Force has been given vast resources to protect satellites from attack. NATO has warned that any strike on a member’s space assets could invoke collective defence obligations under Article 5. France, Britain, and Japan have all established military space commands.

In this light, India’s announcement looks less like an outlier than a late but necessary step. If the Indo-Pacific is the geopolitical hotspot of the 21st century, then the skies above it will be a vital arena. To be absent from this competition is to invite strategic irrelevance.

More than missiles and satellites

Singh, however, was careful to emphasise the economic as well as the military dimension. India’s digital economy—expected to underpin its growth for decades to come—is utterly dependent on reliable satellite infrastructure. Everything from mobile networks to financial transactions, energy grids to cargo logistics, rests on orbital systems.

“Space is not a luxury,” Singh said pointedly. “It is the foundation of our digital economy, our energy resilience, and our security.”

The implication was clear: an attack on Indian satellites would not only weaken its armed forces but could paralyse the wider economy. For a nation seeking to become the world’s third-largest economy within a decade, that vulnerability is intolerable.

A boon for India’s private space sector

The remarks have also been greeted warmly by India’s nascent private space industry, which has been given greater freedom in recent years. Companies such as Skyroot Aerospace and Agnikul Cosmos have already carried out test launches of small rockets, while others are developing satellite constellations for communications and earth observation.

Industry figures argue that a clear recognition of space as a strategic priority will unlock defence contracts, spur research funding, and position Indian firms as partners of choice for Western governments wary of Chinese suppliers.

“Singh’s statement shows the government means business,” said one senior executive. “It signals to the world that India is serious about space as both a security and economic frontier.”

A contested horizon

Critics warn that India’s ambitions may still outstrip its budgets. The armed forces are wrestling with shortages of modern aircraft, naval vessels and artillery. Adding space into the mix risks stretching resources thin. Others fear that overt militarisation could provoke China into accelerating its own deployments.

Yet Singh appears determined to press ahead. The logic is compelling: India cannot afford to watch its rivals secure dominance above the atmosphere while it remains earthbound. The “peaceful use of space” may remain the official mantra, but New Delhi now accepts that peace will only be preserved through credible strength.

Drawing the battle lines above

In his address, Singh stopped short of announcing specific new programmes or budgets. But the symbolism was unmistakable. By openly declaring space as central to national security, he has effectively drawn battle lines that mirror those being etched in Washington, Paris, and London.

For India, the stakes could not be higher. China, like Russia, is already racing ahead, embedding satellites into every aspect of its military doctrine. Pakistan, though weaker, will happily ride Beijing’s coat-tails. Against such a backdrop, Singh’s warning is less a declaration of intent than a cry of necessity.

The contest for power in Asia will not be decided solely on the Himalayan borders or in the waters of the Indian Ocean. Increasingly, it will be shaped by the invisible struggles playing out in orbit above us. And India, Singh made abundantly clear, has no intention of ceding that ground—or sky—to anyone.