COLUMN: France Watches the Rockets Fly By and Wonders If It Still Exists

The Middle Kingdom Quietly Conquers the Skies

While the West marvels at SpaceX’s feats, China is methodically building its space empire. The Tiangong space station has been operational since 2022. It regularly hosts taikonauts for missions lasting several months. Beijing is developing its own launch vehicles, its own satellites, and its own Beidou navigation system, which directly competes with the American GPS and the European Galileo. China doesn’t make a fuss; it doesn’t over-publicize its efforts; it doesn’t seek applause. It simply moves forward. Period. Its space program is a matter of state, heavily funded and planned over decades. When China announces that it will land humans on the Moon before 2030, no one laughs. Everyone knows it will happen. Europe, on the other hand, is struggling to maintain its existing programs and has to negotiate every euro of its space budget as if it were pure gold.

China both fascinates and frightens me. That ability to plan for the long term, that unwavering determination, that total absence of public debate that slows everything down. They decide, and they act. We, on the other hand, debate, hesitate, cut budgets, restart programs, and review them again. And in the meantime, they’re building. They’re building their space independence brick by brick, satellite by satellite. And us? We watch. We comment. We analyze. But we don’t do anything comparable. Nothing that can rival this relentless machine.

Three Launches to Save Face

After years of delays, budget overruns, and doubts, Ariane 6 finally took off in 2024. Three successful launches in 2025. Three. That’s not much—it’s even laughably few compared to SpaceX’s launch rate—but it’s a start. A fragile, precious, and essential start. The program calls for about ten launches in 2026, notably for Amazon and its LEO satellite constellation. Arianespace is trying to reposition itself in a market that has become ultra-competitive. The European launch vehicle is not reusable, which puts it at an economic disadvantage from the outset. But it exists. It works. It offers Europe independent access to space—that famous “sovereignty” everyone talks about without always understanding what it really means. Without Ariane, Europe would be completely dependent on its competitors to put its satellites into orbit. Without Ariane, there would be no European space program.

Three launches. I keep repeating that number to myself. Three. It’s ridiculous and magnificent at the same time. Ridiculous because, objectively speaking, it’s not enough. Magnificent because every launch is a victory against decline, against resignation, against those who said Ariane was dead. When these rockets take off from Kourou, our pride takes off with them. Our refusal to give up. Our determination to carry on despite everything. But how long can we keep this up with just three launches a year? How long before customers get fed up and look elsewhere?

Space Startups Face the Reality Check

Emmanuel Macron is banking on Newspace—a network of small, innovative companies poised to revolutionize the French space sector. Names are emerging: Maiaspace, Latitude, HyPrSpace. These startups are developing next-generation launch vehicles that are smaller, more agile, and potentially reusable. They’re raising funds, attracting talent, and sparking investors’ imaginations. But the reality of the space industry is unforgiving. Dark, a startup with a promising future, shut its doors in October 2025. The Exploration Company has been constantly changing its strategy, even attempting to acquire the struggling British manufacturer Orbex. The launch vehicle market is saturated, ultra-competitive, and dominated by giants that are decades ahead. Developing a rocket costs hundreds of millions of euros. Getting it to fly successfully takes years. And even if successful, finding customers in the face of SpaceX is nothing short of a miracle. French Newspace exists; it innovates; it tries. But it’s struggling to follow through.

I want to believe in it. I really want to believe that these small French companies will manage to break through, pull off a surprise, and show that innovation is still possible from France. But I’m also realistic. Space isn’t the same as digital tech. You don’t build a rocket in a garage. You don’t just raise a few million and—poof—launch it. It’s infinitely more complex, riskier, and more expensive. And when I see Dark shutting down, when I see The Exploration Company floundering, I wonder how many others will follow. How many dreams will crash before they’ve even taken off?

When Berlin Overtakes Paris in the Space Race

One figure stings. It stings badly. Germany now contributes 23% of the ESA’s budget, compared to just 16.4% for France. Just a few years ago, France was the top contributor at 18%. This reversal is not merely anecdotal—it is symbolic. Berlin has realized that space has become a major strategic issue. Germany is investing heavily in its own space companies, supporting the development of critical technologies, and funding ambitious programs. France, on the other hand, is cutting its budgets, hesitating, and dithering. The result is clear: Germany is becoming Europe’s leading space power. Not by tradition, not by heritage, but through political will and massive investment. France, the birthplace of Ariane, is losing its leadership to its neighbor. The irony of history is cruel.

It makes me sick. Literally sick. Seeing Germany overtake us in a field where we were the masters is like losing a part of our identity. Space—that was us. It was our pride, our excellence, our ability to compete with the greatest. And now? Now we’re second. Second in Europe. Not in the world—in Europe. How did we get here? How could we have let our lead slip away? Was it a lack of money? A lack of vision? A lack of political courage? Probably all three.

When Europe Proves It Still Has What It Takes

Not everything is bleak in the European space sector. Galileo, the European satellite navigation system, is up and running. It rivals the American GPS in terms of accuracy and reliability. More than two billion smartphones worldwide now use Galileo. This is a major technological and strategic success. Europe has proven that it can develop and deploy a complex satellite constellation without relying on the Americans or the Chinese. The Iris² project—a European telecommunications satellite constellation—is also moving forward. It is intended to give Europe sovereignty over secure communications, independent of American or Chinese networks. These programs demonstrate that Europe, when it has the resources and the political will, can still achieve great things in space. France contributes significantly to these successes, with its robust space industry and top-tier engineers.

Galileo gives me hope again. It really does. When I see that we’ve managed to create our own navigation system, independent of the Americans, I tell myself that all is not lost. That we can still achieve great things when we give ourselves the means to do so. But why don’t we replicate this success everywhere else? Why does Galileo remain an exception rather than the norm? We have the expertise, we have the engineers, we have the industry. What we lack is political will. That damn political will that’s missing every time we need to make massive, long-term investments.

When Money Falls Short of Ambitions

The problem in France is simple to understand but difficult to solve: we aren’t investing enough. While Germany is pouring billions into its space program, while China is heavily funding its orbital ambitions, and while the United States is letting the private sector invest colossal sums, France is counting its euros. The French space budget is stagnating—or even shrinking—in constant euros. Programs are underfunded, startups struggle to raise sufficient capital, and major projects are delayed due to a lack of resources. Emmanuel Macron talks about a national space strategy, sovereignty, and ambition. But his actions don’t match his words. The Space Command inaugurated in Toulouse is a symbol, not a revolution. Without massive and sustained investment, France will continue to slip in the global space rankings. Good intentions aren’t enough. Money is what makes the difference.

You can’t have your cake and eat it too. You can’t aspire to be a space power without putting in the resources. It’s as simple as that. But in France, we love speeches, grand announcements, and national strategies. And then what? Then we cut budgets, postpone investments, and wait for better days that never come. Meanwhile, our competitors are investing, building, and moving forward. And us? We stand on the platform watching the train leave. It’s pathetic. It’s truly pathetic to see such a waste.

When an Ally Becomes a Competitor

Relations between Europe and the United States are becoming strained. What was unthinkable just a few years ago is now becoming a reality: America is no longer considered an unconditional ally. Washington’s unilateral decisions, aggressive trade policies, and diplomatic pressure are changing European perceptions. In the space sector, this shift is crucial. SpaceX is no longer just a commercial competitor; it is also a geopolitical player that can deny access to space to whomever it sees fit. Europe’s dependence on American launch vehicles is becoming a major strategic risk. This realization could be the catalyst Europe—and France in particular—needs to invest heavily in its space independence. Sovereignty is no longer an abstract concept; it is a vital necessity. Without autonomous access to space, Europe will be at the mercy of powers that do not necessarily share its interests.

It took the Americans turning their backs on us for us to understand. It took this humiliation, this betrayal, for us to realize that we can only count on ourselves. It’s sad, but perhaps it’s for the best. Perhaps this wake-up call will jolt us into action. Perhaps we’ll finally stop playing second fiddle and start investing heavily in our independence. Because that’s what’s really at stake: independence. The ability to say no, to make our own choices, to depend on no one. Without that, we’re nothing. Just vassals waiting to be given permission to go into space.

Between resignation and a sudden surge of action, we must choose

So, can France still hold its own against SpaceX and China? The honest answer is: no, not on its own. France cannot compete individually with giants that have resources ten or a hundred times greater. But that’s not the real question. The real question is: Does France still want to have a presence in space? Does it want to maintain its ability to reach orbit independently? Does it want to preserve its space industry, its skills, and its expertise? If the answer is yes, then we must act. Now. We must invest heavily in Ariane, support the French NewSpace sector, and strengthen European programs such as Galileo and Iris². Space sovereignty is not a luxury; it is a strategic necessity. Without it, France will become a second-tier power, dependent on decisions made elsewhere. The choice is simple: invest or disappear. There is no third way.

I refuse to give in to resignation. I refuse to accept that France will become a minor player in space. We have invested too much, built too much, and dreamed too much to give up now. Yes, we are behind. Yes, we have lost ground. But nothing is set in stone. Nothing is irreversible. If we collectively decide that space is a national priority, if we allocate the necessary resources, if we stop dithering and take action, then we can still make a difference. Not alone, but together with Europe. Not by competing with SpaceX over the number of launches, but by developing our own strengths, our own assets. The question isn’t whether we can win this race. The question is whether we still want to be in it. I do. What about you?

Signed, Jacques Provost