What would Artemis participation mean for Türkiye’s space industry and space diplomacy?

Türkiye’s space industry is no longer the limiting factor in its potential participation in Artemis Accords. Over the past two decades, Ankara has built an increasingly sophisticated space ecosystem, one that now finds itself at a strategic inflection point. If Türkiye were to engage with the Artemis Accords, now with 61 signatories after Oman signed, the decisive variables would not be engineering capacity alone, but how effectively the country aligns diplomacy, industry, and regulation under a coherent space policy framework.

That distinction matters because Türkiye now possesses the industrial and human-capital foundations required for meaningful participation. In 2024, it became only the 11th country to manufacture its own geostationary communications satellite with the launch of Türksat 6A, consolidating end-to-end capabilities across satellite design, integration, testing and operations. This milestone builds on a growing Earth observation portfolio, including RASAT, Göktürk-2, and the fully indigenous high-resolution IMECE satellite. Advancing in parallel, Türkiye is making progress in lunar mission planning and upstream launch technologies under the Lunar Mission of Türkiye, aiming for a high-impact landing in early 2027 as the first part and with a planned soft landing on the lunar surface in a subsequent phase of the mission architecture in the early 2030s, under Türkiye’s National Space Program. The Turkish Space Agency (TUA) is working with industry partners including DeltaV Space Technologies, with its domestically developed rocket, including a hybrid rocket engine, which surpassed 200 kilometers in June 2025, on spacecraft and on propulsion technologies aimed at achieving lunar orbit and surface objectives.

Beyond hardware, human spaceflight preparation is emerging as a complementary capability layer. Private actors such as Scarlet Space Technologies are investing in analog mission infrastructure to simulate long-duration human spaceflight conditions. In a Jan. 8 interview, the company’s CEO, Ruha Uslu, shared with me: “The planned analog research station is designed not merely as a training facility, but as a platform for generating operational knowledge under mission stress. According to current planning, the facility’s core infrastructure is expected to be usable within 12 months, with full operational capability targeted within 24 months.” Those are timelines that align with Türkiye’s broader ambitions to participate credibly in multinational human-spaceflight programs, regardless of formal accession status. 

Integrated into global initiatives, Türkiye is advancing sovereign access ambitions through an overseas spaceport project in Somalia, for which feasibility and design studies were completed in December 2025. Positioned near the equator, the facility signals Türkiye’s intent to operate from a globally competitive launch latitude. Importantly, Türkiye’s space industry is increasingly oriented toward international commercial participation, positioning Turkish firms as long-term suppliers within multinational exploration, Earth observation, and in-orbit services value chains. In parallel,The Lunar Neutrals Telescope (LNT), developed by Sweden’s Institute of Space Physics (IRF), is set to fly aboard Türkiye’s first lunar mission. This collaboration illustrates how emerging space actors can combine sovereign mission ownership with international scientific payloads, strengthening credibility, interoperability, and diplomatic reach in cislunar exploration.

Taken together, these developments suggest that for Türkiye, Artemis can be seen no longer merely as an aspirational diplomatic signal, but one increasingly aligned with demonstrated industrial, human-capital and launch-related capacity. If industrial capability is no longer the limiting factor, what strategic and diplomatic choices does Artemis participation actually demand?

Legal, institutional, and strategic realities of joining Artemis

What does Artemis participation test most for Türkiye: legal alignment, institutional coordination, or diplomatic coherence? Legally, signing the Artemis Accords would be straightforward for Türkiye. Institutionally, Türkiye is already well-positioned as a long-standing COPUOS member and a party to all five major U.N. space treaties. Joining Artemis would therefore extend existing legal commitments to lunar activities rather than create new ones.

The more consequential challenge lies domestically. Effective participation would require clearer licensing, transparency, data-sharing procedures, and interagency coordination for lunar missions. Here, private-sector perspectives reinforce the need for institutional clarity. As Ruha Uslu, CEO of Scarlet Space Technologies, said, “A clear division of responsibilities between national space authorities and the private sector is essential. A model where the public sector provides strategic guidance while the private sector delivers speed and innovation is the healthiest way to build a sustainable human spaceflight ecosystem.” Such a framework would allow Türkiye to translate normative alignment into executable programs.

Crucially, accession would not preclude strategic hedging. Türkiye’s multi-vector foreign policy tradition extends naturally to space: joining Artemis need not constrain cooperation with China-led initiatives such as ILRS. In practice, interoperability often precedes politics, as technologies, training and operational outputs developed under shared standards can be integrated through third countries or private-sector partnerships.

Seen this way, the Artemis accession would neither be a geopolitical pivot nor an exclusionary choice. It would function instead as a legal, institutional and thus a diplomatic anchor, expanding Türkiye’s operational latitude while strengthening its capacity to shape, rather than merely follow, emerging norms in cislunar governance.

Possible space and lunar policy pathways following a hypothetical Artemis accession

Joining the Artemis Accords would not, by itself, define Türkiye’s future in space. Rather, it would act as a policy inflection point, opening a set of strategic choices requiring clear prioritization and coordination. This, in turn, highlights the importance of institutionalizing space diplomacy through dedicated coordination structures, such as a permanent Space Diplomacy Task Force and a National Space Council-type mechanism within a dedicated national space policy framework, that can align foreign policy, industrial capabilities, regulatory authorities and international partnerships under a single strategic framework.

First, Türkiye would need to translate alignment into action by defining concrete roles within the Artemis ecosystem. This could include nationally funded scientific payloads, cooperative surface systems with established partners, or structured astronaut flight opportunities. Given the country’s existing experience with the Turkish Astronaut and Science Mission Project on the ISS and suborbital scientific missions and its expanding industrial base and commercial partnerships, such contributions would be feasible rather than aspirational.

Second, Türkiye must ensure domestic policies align with Artemis. Parliament and agencies may co-create and update space law and regulations to reflect the new Accords principles. For example, establishing licenses or export-control rules for space resources in line with international guidance, or formally recognizing “safety zones” around lunar landing sites as the Accords envision. These steps will reassure partners that Turkish lunar activities will be transparent and sustainable. Türkiye can even use this as a leverage as a model for at least a part of its national space law, of course, strategically tailored for Türkiye, and it could be making things easier for the country to step ahead in the enactments.

Third, foreign policy could feature Türkiye in global space governance. As a new Artemis signatory, Türkiye could have a greater voice in international space forums (COPUOS, ITU, OECD Space Forum, etc.) on lunar matters ranging from lunar sustainability to space traffic management. Its diplomats can advocate for norms, like space traffic management or sustainability, having tested them in the Artemis framework. Meanwhile, Ankara could continue outreach in Eurasian venues. The teams in the Turkish Ministry of Foreign Affairs might parallel USA/NASA meetings through discussions with CNSA and other space agencies, emphasizing scientific exchange. The key could be to defuse any notion that Artemis membership means a hard turn toward the U.S.; on the contrary, officials can highlight how Turkey’s dual approach strengthens cooperation across blocs.

Finally, the domestic narrative will matter. Leaders should frame Artemis participation as a natural extension of Türkiye’s space goals, not as siding with America, by stressing its benefits to Turkish science and related industries under science and technology-related discussions. The public and parliamentary debate could likely revisit how Artemis fits with past commitments. Done skillfully, this dialogue can have public support for deeper space investment (e.g., future lunar missions and satellite programs). Türkiye could point to tangible returns: new space contracts with NASA or partners, technology spillovers for Turkish industry, and a stronger international profile for TUA.

Why this scenario matters now

Türkiye’s rise as a space actor is no longer aspirational but structural. Decisions taken today, on legal alignment, industrial readiness, and diplomatic positioning, will shape Ankara’s strategic latitude in cislunar space and in the governance forums that will define access, safety, and influence for decades to come.

The window for early rule-shaping participation is narrowing. With Artemis 2 scheduled very soon, the late 2020s represent a decisive window in which norms, partners, and industrial roles are being locked in. As the Artemis program and its associated architectures reach critical mass through missions such as Gateway and Artemis 3, relative negotiating leverage will shift. Joining the Artemis Accords would therefore not constitute symbolic alignment, but strategic future-proofing: securing a position within the institutional architecture that will govern lunar activity.

This is not an either/or choice. Türkiye would retain significant room for strategic hedging, engaging Artemis while maintaining operational and scientific ties with all other initiatives, including Eurasian. However, hedging without anchoring risks policy drift, and in space governance, drift translates directly into diminished influence.Türkiye’s space rise is real, but its normative positioning remains underdeveloped. If Ankara seeks not merely to participate in emerging space governance structures but to shape them, moves such as Artemis accession are no longer optional. They are strategically imperative.

Elif Yüksel is a Turkish pioneer in space diplomacy and space policy. She is a Fulbright Scholar, Space Policy Institute Fellow, and an alumna of the International Space University. Currently, she works as a consultant for several private space companies and voluntarily serves as an Ambassador for the AstroAid Foundation.

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