Abstract
Pacifism has been the cornerstone of Japan’s identity in the post-1945 era. In the light of its changing threat perception in the post-Cold War period, Japan has been increasingly pursuing autonomy in the security domain while stretching the limits of its pacifist identity. It has hence sought to build a strong technological base to support its latent military capabilities. This article attempts to contextualise Japan’s pursuit of autonomy in outer space amid growing security competition in the domain. It discusses the legal and organisational changes that have allowed for a growing involvement of Japan’s Self-Defense Forces in operating space assets. The potential counterspace applications of major technological capabilities shown by Japan in the civilian and commercial space sectors are assessed. The article surmises that Japan, which has a global reputation as a benign space power, can continue to refine its latent counterspace capabilities amidst a pursuit of autonomy, without straying much from its pacifist traditions.
Introduction
Outer space is today one of the most contested domains among the great powers (Director of National Intelligence, 2011; United Nations, 2013; US Space Force, 2020, p. 17). Space-enabled services have become vital to a country’s economic activities, prompting states to lay a strong policy emphasis on outer space. Space assets also enable a wide range of activities to be carried out by proficient militaries, including gathering intelligence, carrying out surveillance and reconnaissance, assisting in precision targeting of missiles and munitions, providing early warning of incoming missile attacks, maintaining secure communications with forward-deployed military units and so on. However, the outer space arena has also received exponentially greater interest in the twenty-first century due to the development of an array of counterspace capabilities that can disrupt or destroy space assets.
The centrality of the space domain for achieving victory in modern wars has become an increasingly accepted notion. Major spacefaring nations including the United States, China, Russia and France have showcased an array of offensive and defensive technologies in outer space (Weeden & Samson, 2021). The past decade and a half witnessed the demonstration of anti-satellite (ASAT) capability by four nation-states, China in 2007, the United States in 2008 (testing for the first time since the height of the Cold War period), India in 2019 and finally, Russia’s first such road-mobile system, in 2021. An ASAT is perhaps the most ‘spectacular’ of all counterspace systems, producing an unambiguous, explosive outcome–– a clear demonstration of capabilities to all concerned. Such incidents have rightly caused concern among the global community, with a major worry being the amount of space debris left behind in their wake.
Meanwhile, the testing and development of various other types of counterspace systems, each with a degree of ambiguity far greater than that of an ASAT system, continue unabashed. Such counterspace systems range from those that produce temporary or reversible effects (such as intercepting communication signals from satellites by blinding or jamming them) to those that could cause far greater, irreversible damage (such as co-orbital weapon platforms). Alongside developing such capabilities, nations such as the United States, China, Russia, France, India and Germany have also been engaged in reorganising their militaries, setting up branches dedicated to space operations (Machi, 2021; Petroni et al., 2021). The stated goals of such new or repurposed units range from that of securing space assets––an easy sell to domestic and international audiences––to tougher asks, such as using space assets to support military operations across the world.
Japan, too, has brought in a military focus to outer space within its strategic calculus in recent years (Kallender & Hughes, 2019). The country has shown an intention to bring about its own ‘resurgence’ and emerge as an influential player in international affairs (Abe, 2013). The exact place and priority that outer space holds within Japan’s strategic calculus deserves an in-depth examination in the current context. Japan’s space program is widely perceived as a benign one. Still, it has emerged as a major space power over the past two decades (Vijayakumar, 2020). It has showcased its technological capability, most prominently through deep space exploration missions and international collaborations. The emerging security environment in outer space, though, could force Japan’s hand in deve- loping counterspace capabilities that help mount the best ‘self-defence’ of its space assets as possible.
This article attempts to contextualise Japan’s increasing quest for autonomy in international relations amid the emerging discourse on outer space as a domain of warfighting. Although Japan has yet to show offensive capabilities in space, the article will detail the latent counterspace capabilities of the state, a world leader in dual-use technologies. The article critically examines Japan’s changing threat perception in the post-Cold War era, particularly in the light of the rise of China and a perceived decline in US power. Alluding to patterns in policymaking that reflect a steadily broadening understanding of pacifism, it identifies autonomy achieved through military means to have evolved as a fundamental consideration for the country. This construct is put to test in the domain of outer space capabilities, where Japan has made a series of structural and legislative modifications in the last three decades.
The article begins by discussing Japan’s understanding of autonomy and the weight it grants to military power within the same. It traces the increased military focus on outer space, especially since the 1998 Taepodong shock, by studying the evolution of its space military organisation. It discusses Japan’s threat perception from the new space race and assesses the broad types of counterspace systems that have been shown or are in development across the world. Finally, the article highlights some of the technologies and capabilities shown by Japan on its space missions which have an inherent capacity to be used as counterspace systems.
Japan’s Quest for Military Autonomy
Japan’s worldview in the post-Second World War era has been defined by its adoption of a pacifist constitution, as the country, shamed for its past aggressive behaviour sought to reintegrate itself into the international community. 1 Japan’s renouncement of its sovereign right to use force can in part be seen as a consequence of its limited ability to negotiate with the victors in the Second World War. Since then, though, pacifism has emerged to become a cornerstone of Japan’s identity in the current world order. 2 Japan entrusted its security to the United States by signing the 1952 Treaty of Mutual Cooperation and Security which extended the US nuclear umbrella to its territory (Cha, 2016). The 1954 Mutual Defense Assistance Agreement further formalised the United States’ responsibility to protect Japan, a promise made in exchange for allowing the former to establish permanent military bases on Japanese territory (Teslik, 2006). Reliance on the United States for security further allowed it to concentrate on post-War economic recovery (Hoshiro, 2022). The idea served as the cornerstone of the Yoshida Doctrine (after the approach pioneered by former PM Shigeru Yoshida in the 1950s) which has been widely perceived as the fundamental guiding principle of Japan’s post-War foreign policy.
However, while remaining anchored to a pacifist identity, the country has also pursued autonomy as ‘an overriding foreign policy objective’ (Green & Samuels, 1994, p. 3). This pursuit of autonomy amid several structural constraints can arguably be traced back to ‘a shared national concern for Japan’s standing and external image in the international community’ (Dore, 1975, p. 190). In this regard, the country has seemingly attempted to strike a balance between these two core facets of its identity by building formidable capabilities in dual-use technologies. Indeed, Japan is widely regarded as a world leader in this area. Japan has arguably shown a way to abide by its pacifist outlook even though it pursues a level of autonomy, embracing an economic ideology within which technology is strategic while articulating its military priorities in seemingly vague terms (Green & Samuels, 1994, p. 5).
The changing security environment in the post-Cold War era seems to have forced Japan to reflect upon the core priorities and principles that define its national interest (Green, 2001). In particular, the country is said to have realised the importance of a fully capable military to render ample weight to any political action. Japan’s involvement in the Gulf War (1990–1991) can be regarded as a key instance that forced the country to reflect upon the larger implications of its pacifist posturing in a transformed post-Cold War security environment. Strictly adhering to pacifism, Japan limited its involvement in the conflict to finances and was widely perceived to engage in Chequebook diplomacy. Japan found itself limited in its ability to shape a desirable outcome, even though it had a major stake in the situation being one of the largest consumers of oil from the West Asian region. A restrained involvement in a global crisis effectively caused Japan to be perceived as an ‘incomplete great power’ (Miyamoto & Watanabe, 2014, p. 100).
This is attested to by the subsequent policy developments that have steadily reflected Japanese policymakers’ increasing cognizance of the importance of the military in backing a credible image of power. For instance, the passage of the Peace Operations Law in 1992 allowed for the overseas deployment of the Japan’s Self-Defense Forces (JSDF) for peacekeeping operations (Oi, 2012). The reorientation of Japan’s priorities pertaining to the military arena can also be understood as a consequence of the country’s efforts to adapt to the changing regional security environment in the twenty-first century (Schwenke, 2020). Given the rise of China, coupled with North Korea’s acquisition of nuclear weapons, the predominance of the United States as a security guarantor in the East Asian region has started to be challenged. A perceived decline in American power in the post-9/11 era has further amplified Japan’s concerns.
Japan has justified its efforts to pursue autonomy in matters of national security by broadly interpreting Article 9 of the constitution within the larger notion of self-defence. In 1994, an advisory panel to PM Morihiro Hosokawa identified the strengthening of autonomous capabilities as a major base on which Japan’s security would rest (Advisory Group on Defense Issues (Japan), 1994). In 1995, the New National Defense Program Outline (NNDPO) further affirmed Japan’s resolve to equip the Self-Defense Forces (JSDF) with defensive capabilities, including the ability to neutralise any threat at its root.
The incident referred to as the ‘Taepodong shock’ of 1998 was a major catalyst for Japan beginning to rethink some of its post-War world view. North Korea had test fired a two-stage Taepodong-1 missile which flew over the Japanese mainland before landing 300 miles East of the Honshu Island. The first-stage booster of the missile landed in the Sea of Japan. The shock Japan experienced in this regard has been compared to that the United States felt in 1957 when the Soviet Union launched Sputnik (Laird et al., 2013, p. 179). The Taepodong shock magnified Japan’s threat perception and highlighted the importance for it to have capabilities for self-defence. Among other things, the incident is said to have prompted another re-look at building the JSDF’s capabilities, especially from the point of view of securing itself from threats that come from the air and outer space domains (Lee, 2011).
A series of policies formulated in the years following the incident reflected an increased merging of the concepts of pacifism and self-defence, signalling Japan’s increased military proactiveness. Japan engaged in a significant departure from its traditional reluctance to involve militarily in an international conflict, participating in a supporting role during the post 9/11 War on Terror. A successful narrative was built in Japan around terrorism as a major threat to its security and with the blessing of the United States, the JSDF was deployed in combat for the first time since the Second World War. The country is said to have used this as an opportunity to start its military revolution (Hughes, 2009 as quoted in Miyamoto & Watanabe, 2014, p. 103).
A larger trend that points to Japan eschewing a benign notion of pacifism can also be deciphered through Japan’s efforts to deploy and later develop fighter jets. In 1952, Japan’s National Safety Agency had deemed that it would be unconstitutional for the state to possess fighter jets (Hughes, 2009). However, Japan is said to have scrambled its fighter jets over 30,000 times since 1958, often in reaction to a perceived threat from North Korea or the Soviet Union (The Japan Times, 2021). Moreover, major players in the Japanese aircraft industry such as Mitsubishi have gone on to develop fighter aircraft similar to the American F-15s (Miyamoto & Watanabe, 2014, p. 100). In recent times, the country has publicly acknowledged that it is considering the option of deploying aircraft into an adversary’s airspace to neutralise their military installations as a last resort during an imminent missile attack on Japanese territory (Takeuchi, 2021).
Japan’s efforts to pursue autonomy as a means of arriving at its rightful place in the global order received a renewed vigour during the second term of PM Shinzo Abe (2012–2020). The Abe administration has been said to have ‘sought to craft new compromises on the parameters of acceptable state behaviour, including in the area of arms export policies’ (Sakaki & Maslow, 2020, p. 650). Several studies have pointed out Japan’s shift towards autonomous and assertive military policies, whereas several others have identified the country to be following a pragmatically grounded approach to attaining its economic and security goals (Tamaki, 2020).
In a bid to reclaim Japan’s lost place on the world stage, the Abe administration made a concentrated emphasis on military reorganisation in order to achieve better management of military resources and bolster national security policymaking. The JSDF was initially under the Japan Defense Agency (JDA) which was instituted as an agency external to the Cabinet Office. In 2007, the JDA was upgraded to the Ministry of Defense, effectively removing bureaucratic control over the military’s functions. A National Security Council (NSC) as well as a National Security Secretariat (NSS) were further set up, effectively removing the bureaucratic interface between the civilian government and the military. 3 Japan’s increased focus on achieving national security through bolstering the JSDF’s capabilities in recent years has also been seen as a product of this (Schwenke, 2020).
Evolution of Space Military Organisation in Japan
Since the initial years of the space age, Japan has prioritised spacefaring as a key status-seeking strategy. The country saw it as a unique way to enhance its industrial and technological strategy in a way that would allow it to catch up to the United States and the Soviet Union. Gaining a place among a small group of advanced spacefaring nations was further seen as a means to accumulate national prestige and improve its international image in the post-Second World War scenario (Kallender, 2016). After Japan signed the Outer Space Treaty (OST) in 1967, the Diet passed the Peaceful Purposes Resolution (PPR) in 1969 and self-restricted its utilisation of outer space to peaceful purposes only. In doing so, Japan went one step beyond its commitment to the OST in interpreting peaceful purposes 4 as ‘non-military’.
Until the formation of the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency (JAXA) in 2003, spacefaring activities in Japan were carried out by three agencies: the Institute of Space and Astronautical Science (ISAS), the National Space Development Agency (NASDA) and the National Aeronautics Laboratory (NAL). The nature of organisation in this case ‘deliberately sought to segment the implementation of space activities into a competitive institutional framework’ (Kallender, 2016, p. 16). Although the focus of NASDA lay in utilisation of space for industrialisation, the ISAS handled the area of space science. Meanwhile, the NAL pursued research on aeronautical transport systems such as rockets and aircraft (Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency, 2003).
As per the PPR, the administration of space activities in Japan was kept entirely out of the JSDF’s hands until the enactment of the Basic Space Law (BSL) in 2008. The BSL sought to remove restrictions on Japan’s development of advanced military capabilities in the space domain. It also enabled the JSDF to take on an active role with respect to the operation of vital satellites while also removing some restrictions on the export of certain critical technologies. The BSL augmented the three main pillars guiding Japan’s utilisation of space by: reinforcing Japan’s security through development and utilisation of space, promoting Research and Development (R&D) in the space sector and promoting the development of Japan’s space industry (JAXA, 2008).
The changing trend in Japan with respect to the developments in the military space sector (whether in terms of policies or actions), began in earnest following the 1998 Taeopodong shock. Japan resorted to a broad interpretation of peaceful purposes following this incident. The most pressing need felt post the Taeopodong shock was for the country to have a measure of autonomy in the intelligence-gathering arena, especially as frustrations were growing around Japan’s reliance on the United States for intelligence (Manriquez, 2007). In this background, it sought to repurpose existing dual-use capabilities through achieving indigenous production or ‘kokusan’ (Samuels, 2019, p. 152).
To this effect, the BSL effectively allowed the JSDF to have direct control over Japan’s fleet of Information Gathering Satellites (IGS). Before the enactment of the BSL, the SDF had to rely either on the United States or on Japan’s own civilian agencies for basic Intelligence, Surveillance and Reconnaissance (ISR) capabilities. The BSL effectively paved the way for the development of high-precision satellite technologies better suited for military applications than the commercial space assets the state’s civilian agency had been deploying until then. This helped transform the fundamental nature of Japan’s space program from ‘non-military’ to ‘non-aggressive’. The implementation of the BSL is carried out through Basic Space Plans which outline the priorities of Japan’s space program. The Plans which cover an average timespan of three years have reflected an increased importance accorded to maintaining the country’s autonomy through space-based means (Suzuki, 2020).
The Basic Space Plans represent Japan’s focus on space policy as an important component of its national security planning. They complement Japan’s first National Security Strategy (2013) which terms outer space as a strategic domain while placing it within the doctrine of proactive pacifism. The 2015 Plan proposes to enhance Japan’s security through four key space-based means, namely: through doubling the number of IGS satellites; through building space-based capabilities for Maritime Domain Awareness (MDA); through strengthening capabilities in communications and Position, Navigation and Timing (PNT) 5 ; and through building Japan’s space capabilities to complement the US security strategy in a way that enhances the allies’ deterrence posturing (Kallender, 2016). The most recent Basic Space Plan (2020) underlined the need for Japan to reinforce the techno-industrial base that supports the country’s space activities. It highlighted that such endeavours are critical to ‘maintain autonomy of space activities’, which the country has been pursuing in recent decades (National Space Policy Secretariat, 2020, p. 1).
The country has so far not seen its alliance with the United States as antithetical to its idea of autonomy. Although Japan gaining strong capabilities in intelligence gathering is likely to make the alliance itself sturdier, the scenario would also translate to Japan’s reduced reliance on the United States. An overall desire to reduce dependence on the United States for intelligence gathering has been termed as a major rationale for Japan to acquire independent ISR capabilities. In this regard, an improved capacity for independent intelligence assessment may potentially translate into an independent capacity for action in the case of a radical change in the security environment (Green & Samuels, 1994, p. 19).
Following the institution of the US Space Force (USSF) in December 2019 as the sixth branch of the US military, Japan announced the setting up of its own Space Domain Mission Unit (SDMU). The SDMU has been stood up within the Japanese Air Self-Defense Force (JASDF) and has been tasked with safeguarding Japan’s space assets. The SDMU would also endeavour to improve JSDF’s satellite-based navigation capabilities in order to improve the overall efficiency of self-defence operations (Houser, 2020). The newly constituted unit would also liaison with the USSF ‘to ensure superiority in the use of space at all stages from peacetime to armed contingencies’ (Koshino, 2020). The SDMU and the USSF are mandated to broaden cooperation in outer space in areas including ISR, PNT, early warning, Space Situational Awareness (SSA) 6 and in ensuring the resiliency of space systems. The two sides are expected to come together when their space systems are threatened to mitigate the risk as well as to prevent damage (Ministry of Defense, 2021).
New Space Race: Implications for Japan
The outer space arena is perhaps the most vulnerable part of the interconnected infrastructure that is the bedrock for most civilian and military activity today. The major players with an ability to influence activities in outer space are the United States, China and Russia. Indeed, much of the ensuing activity in the counterspace arena can be traced back to the decision by the United States to abandon the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty (ABM Treaty) in 2002 (Joshi, 2019; Yuan, 2003). Under significant domestic pressure to test the new capabilities which had been developed since the early 1990s, the George W. Bush government used the aftermath of the 9/11 incident to pull out of the bilateral arms control agreement, which dated back to 1972 (United States House Oversight Subcommittee on National Security, 2007). This resulted in a spurt in activity, both diplomatic and on the technological front, as Russia and China looked to counter the US shift in policy. The culmination of a series of tests and launches beginning in 2003 saw China show its ASAT capability on 11 January 2007 (Kan, 2007). This was followed by the United States’ Operation Burnt Frost, when a defunct National Reconnaissance Office (NRO) satellite was shot down using the anti-ballistic missile SM-3 (Johnson, 2021).
The close linkage between ABM, ASAT and other counterspace capabilities and their impact on global strategic balance has been a focus of much attention since the Cold War period (Princeton University, 1984). If the United States was somehow able to deploy a ballistic missile shield that questioned Russia or China’s second-strike capability, it would present an untenable situation for those two states. Demonstration of ASAT and other counterspace capabilities by these two nations can be regarded as a signal to the United States that in case of an eventuality, its space assets would be deemed as fair game (Bowman & Thompson, 2021). Much of the United States’ global force deployment depends on its space systems (and their ground networks and communication signals) to function effectively. As such, targeting of its military space assets has often been referred to as the Achilles’ heel of the United States (Moltz, 2019, p. 1).
An allied US state such as Japan has also been feeling the pinch of this ongoing counterspace race. China and Japan have their historic differences as well as fresh territorial disputes. In spite of significant economic interdependence, relations between the two states seem to never be too far from a controversy. Having watched their neighbour pursue an aggressive military modernisation strategy over the past decades, Japan is currently in a situation where it finds itself questioning many of the self-imposed constraints on its own military capabilities (Hughes, 2009; Tanter, 2005). Japan is constrained by its Constitution in developing aggressive military capabilities or deploying its armed forces abroad. Having renounced its right to war, it has been argued that this stance has contributed to the state’s limited influence over international affairs (Hagstrom & Williamsson, 2009) in comparison to emerging Asian states like China or India. Moreover, any attempt to reform its military has often been met with heavy criticism from both the international and domestic fronts. Recollections are drawn to Japan’s aggressive past during the Second World War era, in spite of decades spent integrating itself as a key cog in the Western-led international machinery.
However, the outer space arena could provide Japan with a potential work-around to both its own self-imposed restrictions and to that of international pressure aimed at stopping Japan from re-militarising. This is due to the dual-use nature of space assets and the ambiguity of intentions that comes with it (Kallender-Umezu & Pekkanen, 2010). Space weaponisation can happen one of two ways. One scenario is that a nation shows offensive counterspace capabilities including co-orbital systems and Earth-based directed energy or ASAT systems, and actively positions them in orbit or in an alert position on the ground. In the other, more ambiguous situation, states develop and deploy dual-use satellites with benign mission parameters such as maintenance, life-extension or debris removal. Not only do the technologies involved advance with each mission, these satellites while in orbit give the controlling state a latent counterspace capability that be activated at a moment’s notice. With its edge in robotics and various other dual-use technologies, Japan is a power to reckon with in the emerging scenario (Pekkanen, East Asia Forum, 2021).
Modern-day Japan is a staunch advocate for a rules-based international order. However, a slowly emerging trend over the best part of the last two decades or so, has been a willingness to play a more active role in the maintenance of this international order. Indeed, the possibility of having to enter into a conflict much beyond its own territory is now openly being discussed by Japan (Ministry of Defense, 2021, p. 3). Japan has been infamously reticent at developing military capabilities that could be used for purposes beyond just the self-defence of its territories. This is hence a significant shift in Japan’s national security approach and could hint at the state more proactively developing capabilities to deal with emerging threats.
The Defense of Japan (2021) white paper has highlighted the security challenges that Japan faces in the Indo-Pacific region, with a prominent focus being on space security. The threat of disruption to space-enabled services in a digitally advanced state such as Japan is manifold. It has hence become a priority for the state to develop requisite capabilities to safeguard their space assets. To borrow a sporting metaphor, the best defence is often a good attack and developing counterspace capabilities, alongside deepening the existing ties with the United States in space security, could be the best possible means for Japan to ensure the safety of its satellites. Japan has utilised its image as a benign space power to develop a measure of autonomy in cutting-edge space technologies such as space docking and sample retrieval (Vijayakumar, 2020). As the following sections will elaborate, Japan has the knowledge and technological capacity to develop an array of counterspace weapons, given the right setting.
The Emerging Counterspace Race
Counterspace operations in military terms seek to achieve space superiority through ‘integrating offensive and defensive operations to attain and maintain the desired control and protection in and through space’ (Curtis E Le May Center for Doctrine Development and Education, 2021). This is done through both offensive and defensive means. Offensive counterspace operations as per the US Space Force Spacepower Doctrine, 2020 entail measures geared towards preventing rival powers from drawing advantages in conflict situations by denying them the use of space capabilities (US Space Force, 2020). Defensive operations on the other hand seek to utilise space to a country’s own advantage through safeguarding their own and allies’ space assets from ‘attack, interference and unintentional hazards’ (Curtis E Le May Center for Doctrine Development and Education, 2021). With major spacefaring nations as yet unable to agree on the definitions regarding what exactly a space weapon would be, it is not technically possible to classify counterspace systems as weapons under any existing international legislation. Instead, counterspace systems are generally referred to as kinetic and non-kinetic systems (Todd Harrison, 2021).
It is possible to further differentiate between various offensive counterspace systems based on (1) the location of the system from where it is used, (2) the reversibility of its impact and (3) the type of ammunition, energy source or impacting type that the system uses (US Air Force, 2004). Based on the location from where the system operates, counterspace systems can be classified as Earth-to-space systems, co-orbital (or space-to-space systems) and space-to-Earth weapons. A fourth type, that of counterspace Earth to Earth system but travelling through space, such as a directed energy weapon that attacks the receiver antenna of the target, is not as yet believed to be in development. However, military spy-planes that conduct orbital or sub-orbital flight before returning are under development. It is conceivable that such a craft could be equipped with counterspace jammers that could disrupt the electromagnetic communication links between a satellite and its ground station.
The end result of the use of a counterspace system can also be differentiated based on the time its effects last. A kinetic kill ASAT 7 would destroy the satellite, whereas a nuclear detonation in space could also permanently damage satellite. Similarly, the destruction of a ground station could also result in irreversible damage, at least for the duration of a conflict. On the other hand, a cyber-hack or the jamming or blinding of a satellite with a directed energy weapon are actions that only temporarily disrupt the functioning of a space-based system. Finally, counterspace systems can also be classified based on the source that enables its use. Directed energy weapons can be identified based on the type of energy it uses such as laser weapons or microwave weapons. For example, a 2009 attack ‘illuminating’ a Japanese satellite in orbit was carried out by an air-borne laser from Russia (Weeden & Samson, 2021, p. 2.29). An ASAT can be differentiated based on its delivery system such as direct-ascent, air-launched, sea-launched or canister launched. It can also be differentiated based on the type of its impact as in kinetic kill or explosive/nuclear detonation. Although the ASAT race has perhaps received the most eyeballs, counterspace systems need not be destructive in nature, nor do they need to be launched from Earth. Jamming or blinding of sensitive satellite payloads can be done by microwave or laser weapons on co-orbital spacecraft also. In totality, offensive counterspace capabilities give the user the ability to ‘deceive, disrupt, deny, degrade or destroy’ the adversaries space-based assets (Weeden & Samson, 2021, p. 3.31).
Defensive counterspace capabilities are equally important. A strong architecture for Space Situational Awareness is one of the key defensive capabilities that major spacefaring nations must acquire (Lal et al., 2018). Without this, an adversarial attack on one’s satellite could go undetected until it is too late. Furthermore, avoidable unintended threats to assets, such as from space debris, collision with other live or defunct satellites, or from planetary objects, could be managed if sufficient warning is provided early enough by the state’s SSA network. Finally, to counter the activities of an adversary, furnishing proof of their destructive activities in space is a must. The United States was the only state which could track and report the 2007 ASAT test of China (Broad & Sagner, 2007).
Similarly, in 2020, the US Space Command was the only organisation capable of detecting the dubious activities of two Russian inspector satellites, which behaved very suspiciously like a co-orbital weapon capable of shooting projectiles at other spacecraft (Science Techniz, 2020). As Russia, China, India and indeed, Japan continue to increase its space-based military and dual-use assets, augmenting their own SSA capabilities would be a must. For Japan, the close cooperation with the United States is a great starting point. However, similarly to how they augmented the US Global Positioning System with their own Quasi-Zenith Satellite System (QZSS), Japan should look to use its own capabilities to boost the allied SSA effort, particularly with regard to the monitoring of the Geo-synchronous Earth Orbits (GEO) above the East Asian region.
There are a third category of technological capabilities that could potentially be used as counterspace systems. Such capabilities are not specifically developed for counterspace activities. However, the innately dual-use nature of many outer space technologies means that such systems could be used as offensive or defensive counterspace systems as the need may be. With the rise in the number of deployed satellites (as well as that of space debris created by launch missions, disintegration of spacecraft and collision between space objects), the field of on-orbit servicing 8 has received significant attention since the 1990s (Garretson, 2021). Capabilities to catch up to satellites and dock with them, carry out maintenance and re-fuelling, capture debris or smaller spacecraft, transport satellites to various designated orbits and release them, nudge or drag an object down from its orbit such that it eventually re-enters the atmosphere and burns up––these are all being developed both by state and private actors, purportedly for commercial purposes (Choudhary, 2019; NASA Goddard Spaceflight Center, 2010). However, the ability to utilise such technologies for military purposes, even if for isolated tactical missions, cannot be ruled out. In fact, it could be argued that the greater ambiguity such technologies provide under the garb of civilian use could make their diversion for occasional military purposes difficult to detect and at the same time more likely to happen.
Many of the on-orbit servicing technologies, including those being developed in a bid to clear space debris, have potential uses as co-orbital space weapons. Proposed debris removal techniques involving shooting a harpoon or a net to tangle with and capture space junk are remarkably similar to such offensive counterspace systems (Howell, 2014). Other such emerging dual-use technologies to keep an eye on include space tugs and other space transportation systems which are designed to pick up and drop off satellites at the precise location in the designated orbit. Perhaps, the clearest indicator of this potential could be the partnership entered into between the US Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) and Space Logistics, a wing of military contractor Northrop Grumman (Jewett, 2020). Space Logistics developed and showed the Mission Extension Vehicle (MEV) maintenance satellite capability (Northrop Grumman, 2019). The MEV-1 docked with an ageing Intelsat satellite and will extend its lifetime before moving it to a graveyard orbit and moving on to another customer satellite. DARPA is working with Space Logistics to extend this capability to geosynchronous orbits also.
DARPA has been at the forefront of developing various key pieces of the current geospatial architecture including the GPS. Its involvement with maintenance satellites with the ability to dock onto other spacecraft could signal an interest in developing the same capability as a co-orbital weapon, capable of docking and damaging target satellites or pulling them out of orbit. Russia has been accused of developing similar systems by the US Space Command, including one capable of shooting projectiles into space. In fact, it is speculated that Russia is in the lead in this area and has already been carrying out a series of tests. General John Raymond, Chief of the US Space Force, raised alarm at Russia’s capability in January 2020 as the Russian satellite Kosmos 2542 ‘stalked’ the US military satellite USA 245 in an ‘unusual and disturbing manner’ (Grush, 2020). It then deployed another satellite, Kosmos 2543 which caught up to a defunct Russian satellite before performing another orbital manoeuvre away, during which it released a high-velocity projectile into space, narrowly missing the older spacecraft. The US Space Command claims that Russia conducted a similar demonstration in 2017.
The three central players of the ongoing space race, the United States, China and Russia have been working to improve their capabilities to destroy as well as interfere with satellites through blinding or jamming them. Through executing a wide array of deep space exploration missions, these countries have also gained mastery in ‘rendezvous and proximity’ operations 9 (Skibba & Undark, 2020). The same technology can be weaponised or used to inform military action in multiple ways. The technology can serve as a precise reconnaissance tool. A satellite could relay photos or other data if it can get close to an adversary spacecraft. Satellites possessing proximity, docking and kinetic manoeuvring capabilities can cause more grievous harm to other spacecraft. Such a satellite could get close to its target, spray and blind its imaging equipment or cut off its power by decapacitating its solar panels.
Such fears regarding the tactical use of satellites for nefarious designs, including potentially being used to carry bombs or rods which would then be released as the satellite flies over a target location, have existed ever since the launch of the first satellite in 1957. However, under the aegis of the OST, overflight for satellites, even over adversarial ground, was guaranteed, whereas the numerous bilateral and multilateral engagements between the United States and the USSR saw them agree on the formulation of ‘national technical means’ as a means for verifying each other’s compliance with arms reduction and nuclear non-proliferation measures (Robinson, 2010). Thus, the early fears regarding dual use (or to be precise military use, considering the users of a majority of early space assets were militaries) space technologies gave way to a situation where the capabilities such systems enabled in the field of ISR activities were seen as enablers for implementing various arms control and confidence-building measures between the two superpowers of the Cold War (Steer, 2020). With the catchphrase of ‘peaceful uses’, which essentially in understanding stood for the US view of the term as meaning ‘non-aggressive’, the outer space domain was inherently seen as a military or militarised domain. In recent decades, as the number of potential counterspace systems have grown, the possibility of the domain itself being weaponised has also resultantly gone up.
Japan’s Advantage in Developing Counterspace Systems
Japan has largely adopted a non-aggressive posture in outer space, although it is widely accepted as an ‘underestimated space power’ (Pekkanen, 2020). Although it could potentially develop hit-to-kill, 10 direct ascent ASAT capabilities, such a drastic shift from policy may not be required. Japan could have a different path ahead of it in order to develop the offensive capabilities it requires in the space domain. Japan has already been testing potentially weaponisable dual-use technologies in an open manner over the past two decades. With its international perception as a benign power playing to its advantage, Japan has carried out such demonstrations without even an eyelid being batted. Indeed, Japan received very little scrutiny for the demonstration of an ability to bombard a space rock with a projectile or the conduct of proximity, automatic and robotic docking tests. This is a far cry from the international reaction to ASAT tests (which to some extent is understandable due to the creation of space debris) or co-orbital proximity manoeuvres done by nations such as Russia.
Even the technologies shown by the much-acclaimed Hayabusa-2 asteroid sample return mission, such as the Small Carry-on Impactor which can shoot at objects can potentially be used in offensive operations. The Hayabusa-2 mission showed cutting-edge robotics and propulsion that could power long-distance travel in outer space. It collected sub-surface samples from the Ryugu asteroid after bombarding its rocky surface with a copper projectile (NASA, n.d.; Patel, 2020). The same technology becomes offensive if another satellite or habitation becomes the target of a bombardment. Japan has made its name in spacefaring through civilian missions pertaining to scientific exploration. In doing so, the country has attempted to project its image as a uniquely non-aggressive provider of public goods. Through its Kibo-module on the International Space Station (ISS) it has launched satellites for various nations, including helping in the design, funding and development of the first satellites for various states in the global South (NASA, 2012). It has also sought to project missions like Hayabusa in the light of exploring the unknowns regarding the universe and the evolution of life on Earth. However, whether in the case of the Kibo’s robotic arm or the Hayabusa’s impactor, Japan has been developing the capabilities needed to deploy counterspace systems in case of an eventuality.
Japan has been building its strength in rendezvous proximity operations, prominently through on-orbit maintenance since the early 1990s (Yamanaka, 1996). The idea had gained traction in Japan as a means to save expensive satellites malfunctioning due to fixable technical glitches (Pekkanen, 2020). In July 1998, Japan showed the Engineering Test Satellite 7 (Kiku 7) which entailed a combination of a chaser and a target satellite. The mission studied the feasibility of capabilities such as autonomous separation, approach and docking in various combinations. Another experiment performed using MicroLab-Sat in 2002, involved an attempt to control the satellite’s altitude and capture the object, even if the target is not co-operative (Geospatial World, 2004; Kimura, 2004). In 2017, the JAXA had unsuccessfully tested the Kounotori 6 satellite which attempted to capture pieces of debris and pull it down to a lower orbit (O’Neill, 2017). Such technologies, presented as a solution to the space debris menace has been rather well received by the international community (Siripala, 2020). Simultaneously, they have helped the key operators of Japan’s military space complex gain considerable experience in conducting a variety of on-orbit manoeuvres, which coupled with a mastery over automated robotic systems can pave way the way for the development of counterspace capabilities.
The latest such technology that has been launched is that of the ELSA-d (End of Life Service by Astroscale-demonstration) mission, which sought to show various technologies including ‘rendezvous, docking (involving a magnetic docking mechanism) and proximity operations’ over a 6-month planned operational-cycle (ELSA-d, n.d.; Obe, 2021). The demonstration involving a chaser satellite and a target satellite has been developed by Astroscale, a Singapore-based space debris removal company owned by a former Japanese Finance Ministry official, Mitsunobu Okada. The ELSA-d mission successfully validated the functioning of the magnetic capture mechanism during a test conducted on 25 August 2021 as it docked on to the client satellite using a special metal disc containing an embossed optical target. The ability of the technology to quickly grab and push a satellite out of orbit was also shown as mission control was able to manipulate rendezvous sensors to achieve repeated rounds of quick capture and release of the client satellite (Szondy, 2021).
Astroscale works closely with JAXA and among the contracts it has received from the agency is that of the Commercial Removal of Debris Demonstration (CRD2) project (Astroscale, 2020). The two-stage project will be JAXA’s first orbital debris removal mission, the first part of which was launched in 2022. During the mission, a satellite shall be launched to inspect the fuselage of a rocket and remove upper stages and other large debris pieces from LEO. This mission would be significant as it could potentially be the first to showcase the capability to manipulate extremely large objects in space. Together with improvements in space propulsion technologies and space transportation systems like space tugs, a capability such as this could eventually be used to tamper with even the multi-tonne, legacy military assets in GEO orbits. In a scenario where Japan is looking to draw advantages of delivering a crushing strategic surprise to their adversaries it could look to use these technologies towards such sinister ends.
Finally, one of the biggest assets Japan has in its pursuit of counterspace capabilities is its burgeoning partnership with the United States. Through its attempts to develop a ballistic missile shield, the United States has been constantly testing and improving the capabilities of its key missile defence platforms: the Ground-based Midcourse Defense (GMD) 11 and the Aegis BMD system, which both have the potential to destroy targets in outer space (Centre for Strategic and International Studies, 2021). Although it seems highly unlikely that the United States would ever deploy its Ground-based Interceptor (GBI) as a Direct Ascent ASAT (DA-ASAT), the Missile Defense Agency has displayed the potential for interoperability of the various key sub-components of its missile defence platforms. As such, although the cost-benefit analysis skews heavily against the deployment of a GBI as a DA-ASAT, the SSA and PNT capabilities that are utilised for the GMD could be used in conjunction with other missile defence platforms (particularly Aegis) to provide a measure of an ASAT capability in Low Earth––Medium Earth Orbits.
This is particularly important in Japan’s case as the state has the naval component of Aegis in its arsenal, equipped with the SM-3 missile. As displayed during Operation Burnt Frost, it has been shown that the SM-3 has ‘potentially large and flexible DA-ASAT capability’ (Weeden & Samson, 2021, p. 3.16). The United States and Japan could use this capability against adversary military satellites in the LEO in a future conflict. In a potential war with China in the Indo-Pacific, the combined counterspace capabilities of the United States and Japan could be used to take out China’s reconnaissance satellites in the LEO on which its Anti-ship Ballistic Missile capability relies. In this regard, ships fitted with the Aegis system could be optimally positioned to launch ‘sweep’ attacks on critical nodes of the adversaries’ space assets. SM-3 is also considered an ideal candidate for DA-ASAT due to its positioning flexibility that allows it to target the highest LEO satellites without expending much of thrust (Weeden & Samson, 2021, p. 3.17).
Although Japan has not shown a DA-ASAT capability, it has seven JSDF naval vessels fitted with the Aegis system. With a mere software modification, Japan could effectively have the capability to target satellites in orbits of 600 km or lower. Japan is also collaborating with the United States to develop a third-stage rocket motor and nose cone for the SM-3 Block 2A interceptor, an endeavour that is expected to yield a more capable hit-to-kill interceptor. (Weeden & Samson, 2021). Although Japan has not disclosed an express desire to acquire ASAT capabilities, it has been reported to be developing means to interfere with satellites using means including cyber-attacks, Radio Frequency Interference (RFI) and robotic arms (Darling, 2019).
Whether Japan decides to finally rid itself of the post-Second World War strictures imposed on it by pursuing destructive space capabilities like an ASAT, will depend on a combination of external and internal factors. If economic difficulties or strategic reverses undermine the ability of the United States to guarantee Japan’s national security, the Japanese government may be forced to acquire the capabilities needed for its own security. Similarly, if Japan ever faces a serious threat to the security of their sea lines of communication in such a way that the United States is unable to render timely or effective assistance, Japan may be pressed to take on an active role. In such circumstances where the necessity of rearmament is more apparent, nations within the extended region may endorse Japan’s action (Brown, 1990, pp. 15–17).
The South China Sea is another hotspot in which ASATs could risk escalation. China is developing Anti-Access Area Denial (A2/AD) capabilities in the South China Sea, a combination of long-range radars with air and maritime defences meant to deny US freedom of navigation in the region. The most effective way to break an A2/AD system would be with ASAT weapons. ASATs could neutralise the maritime surveillance China relies upon to deny access to the region and guide cruise missiles (Blatt, 2020). In an eventuality, there is arguably no real rhyme or reason to expect Japan to not do all it can to defend its sovereignty. Until such a situation, however, it seems highly likely that Japan will continue to develop its latent counterspace capabilities, whether of its own accord or in partnership with the United States.
Conclusion
Japan continues to see merit in maintaining its pacifist image in the twenty-first century through a broader security reliance on the United States. At the same time, an increasing threat perception from hostile powers in the neighbourhood, the changing character of warfare and doubts on the continuing credibility of American power in the Indo-Pacific have prompted Japan to prioritise autonomy in self-defence as a fundamental goal. Japan’s pursuit of autonomy is often couched in non-aggressive language in line with a traditional understanding of pacifism. However, consistent, concerted policy efforts in the post-Cold War era seem to have expanded the scope of the military’s role and operations, causing critics to ponder over the true nature of its intentions. Achieving an edge in critical dual-use technologies in this regard presents Japan with the perfect avenue to pursue autonomy as it allows the country to build strategic capabilities under a garb of civilian applications.
Space technology presents one of the most ambiguous cases within dual-use technologies. Distinguishing between civilian and military applications is indeed a tough job. It can be argued that Japan has capitalised on such ambiguities to develop the necessary technological base needed to develop an arsenal of counterspace capabilities. The country has emphasised its military focus on outer space, signalling that it will deploy the necessary space assets to back the functioning of its Self-Defense Forces. It has also been reorganising and synergising its space and military institutions in order to provide a solid foundation for its bid to project power in outer space. Although Japan has had an inherent drive to pursue autonomy in international affairs, its will to do so is additionally prompted by an increasingly aggressive bid from China to emerge as a hegemonic power in Asia. The scenario, while threatening to Japan’s national security and territorial integrity, also offers Japan a potential opportunity to showcase its power in the military domain and regain its status as a great power. This is evidenced by the prevailing rhetoric during the Abe years in Japan, wherein a perceived threat from China was often utilised as a justification to support historical revisionism. A rising threat in this manner constitutes an opportunity for the country to eventually attain autonomy and free itself from the constraints of pacifism.
Whether Japan shall be prompted to do so by conducting a DA-ASAT test remains to be seen, especially since it has shied away from openly demonstrating offensive capabilities for many decades. The country has the technological capability to acquire a slew of counterspace capabilities. Significantly now, voices are growing from both within and without for Japan to take a pro-active stance in international affairs. If the regional security environment deteriorates further, prompting an armed confrontation between the United States and China or leading to increased Chinese aggression, Japan might be prompted to spring its latent counterspace capabilities into action.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The authors would like to acknowledge Dr Arvind Kumar, Professor, Centre for Canadian, US and Latin American Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University, for inculcating in them a passionate interest towards space security. The authors would further like to thank the anonymous reviewers at the Royal United Services Institute (RUSI) Journal for their insightful comments received on an earlier version of this article and Dr Stephen Peter Westcott, assistant professor (Senior Scale), Manipal Academy of Higher Education, for his suggestions.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The authors have received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
