Be Fearful of a Blinded Giant

Together with the November crash of its Mars 96 space probe, the loss of Russia’s last photo-reconnaissance satellite on Sept. 28 may signal the end to the last legacy of the Cold War, the U.S.-Soviet space race. The shutdown of Russia’s eyes in the sky, however, is not necessarily the boon to the West that it might at first seem. In fact, its potential for destabilization far outweighs any perceived advantage.

Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, Russia’s once-proud space program has been beset by budget cuts, pilferage and property disputes over facilities in former Soviet republics and the sale of prized space artifacts, including conversion of the famed Moscow space museum to a foreign car showroom.

The Mars 96 failure was only the latest blow to Russian scientific prestige. The multimillion-dollar funding by America and others for Mars 96 will not soon be repeated. For Russia’s space scientists, the loss of funds is compounded by the loss of pride, a matter keenly felt by other sectors of Russia’s science community. Dire fiscal cuts and decrepit facilities--coupled with a political leadership incapable or unwilling to deal with the consequences of a nuclear program on the skids--contributed to the October suicide of Vladimir Nechai, director of one of Russia’s two main nuclear weapons research centers.

The loss of Mars 96 is a tragedy for Russia’s and the world’s scientists. The loss of its satellite intelligence capabilities, however, is more than another disappointment. Two ominous conclusions may be drawn.

First, the loss of its photo-reconnaissance satellites must somehow be compensated for by the Russian military. Should the Russians not succeed in launching replacement satellites, they may do this partly by increased signals intelligence, that is, decryption of radio and other electronic transmissions. Much of this can be obtained by ground-based equipment. Also, Russian satellites used for this purpose are still functioning.

Much useful information, however, cannot be refined without the oldest intelligence gathering method, namely, human spying. The recent arrest of CIA officer Harold J. Nicholson is instructive as it shows the lengths and willingness of the “new” Russia to perpetuate Cold War activities. Based on allegations that Nicholson’s spying for the Russians included providing the KGB’s successor with personal dossiers on CIA recruits he trained from 1994 to 1996, any increased Russian espionage could hardly come at a worse time for U.S. counter- intelligence.

Secondl, and more ominous, without effective photo-reconnaissance capabilities, a major nuclear-armed power is effectively blind. Modern military forces depend on high-quality photo intelligence as never before, and much of this is best provided by spy satellites. While President Eisenhower’s “Open Skies” plan for unfettered reconnaissance overflights never gained wide international favor, private satellites like EOSAT and LANDSAT have opened up space-based surveillance of other nations’ territory in a way that purely national satellites cannot. The knowledge that somebody, anybody, can watch from space as one nation masses troops near another’s borders helps lessen chances of sneak attacks. This can strengthen confidence-building measures between nations and help limit hostilities.

Spy satellites’ usefulness is not limited to what they find. What they do not find--the absence of troop movements or civil defense preparations--may be just as important. Effective reconnaissance is vital to prevent paranoid or disproportionate responses by major powers to perceived threats.

National spy satellites can stay for long periods of time over specific areas with a decent degree of secrecy. This may not be the case with a private satellite hired by a company or scientific agency to, say, observe environmental effects, as opposed to hovering for weeks over an area to look for missile sites. The photo resolution of a private satellite may not be as high as that of a military one, nor for many commercial reasons would it need to be. A country’s placing an order with LANDSAT to watch another nation would itself tend to reveal secret agendas. Any nation, Russia included, likely will not choose to outsource its satellite activity.

What the demise of Russia’s last spy satellite means is that the world’s second-largest nuclear power is blind or at least myopic. Its military can less effectively monitor flash points such as the Chinese border and can less effectively exercise command and control over its far-flung operations. If forces mass near a neighbor’s frontiers, how will Russia respond? Without viable satellite intelligence, can Russia distinguish between training exercises and a prelude to invasion?

This blindness is even more disconcerting given the shaky, post-Chechnya state of Russia’s military and concerns for the security of its nuclear stockpile, concerns for which Vladimir Nechai sacrificed his life in hopes that someone would listen. The one thing more dangerous to world stability than an unstable nuclear power is one that also cannot distinguish the levels of threats around it.