Europe and the Consequences of China’s First Step on the Moon

Just a few years ago, it was assumed that the United States would almost automatically reclaim the lead in landing on the Moon. The original timeline envisioned Artemis III for 2024, but successive delays pushed the mission first to 2025–2026 and now to no earlier than mid-2027. This delay shows that the planned restoration of Apollo-era dominance has encountered technological and organizational barriers, making the outcome of the race far more open than once believed.

The U.S. possesses mature components—the Space Launch System (SLS) rocket and the Orion capsule, which completed a successful uncrewed flight in 2022 as part of the Artemis I mission. The main challenge, however, remains the Starship Human Landing System (HLS) lander developed by SpaceX. It is a breakthrough but exceptionally complex system: it requires on-orbit cryogenic refuellings, transfer to a near-rectilinear halo orbit (NRHO) around the Moon, docking with Orion, and only then descent to the surface. None of these operations has yet been demonstrated. HLS is the bottleneck of the entire program, and any slip in its development automatically pushes Artemis III further into the future. In other words, U.S. ambitions are tied to the highest level of technological risk.

China, meanwhile, has been executing its plan consistently and without spectacular delays. In 2024, Chang’e-6 returned with samples from the far side of the Moon, strengthening the credibility of China’s landing and return technologies. In August 2025, a full-scale static test of the Long March 10 rocket was conducted, alongside ground tests of the Lanyue lander, structurally reminiscent of the proven Apollo Lunar Module. The Mengzhou capsule has already passed a zero-altitude escape trial. The Wangyu spacesuit, unveiled in 2025, completes the set of critical elements. While all these systems still require flight qualification, their development is proceeding in line with the declared timeline, aiming for “before 2030.”

The current picture is paradoxical. The Americans hold the advantage of experience and proven elements, but their success depends on the risky and delayed HLS. The Chinese are building all components from scratch, yet based on simpler and tested designs, closer to Apollo’s logic than to Elon Musk’s “space aircraft carrier” vision. As a result, the gap between the two programs is narrowing. If Artemis III slips beyond 2027, the probability of “China first” rises significantly. Should the LM-10 complete an orbital test by 2028, and the Lanyue lander pass an integrated launch–landing–launch trial, the “China first” variant becomes the baseline scenario for 2029–2030. A lack of agreement on lunar resource utilization rules by 2028 would further increase the risk of a policy of fait accompli.

The significance of the first crewed lunar landing of the 21st century goes far beyond the technical dimension. “Who goes first” will become a new symbol of global technological leadership, comparable to the moments of Sputnik or Apollo 11. First place, in practice, means the ability to impose one’s own narrative of innovation and agency, as well as tangible normative advantage, from interpreting the Outer Space Treaty to shaping safety and resource exploitation standards. For the United States, it would be proof of sustained hegemony and the effectiveness of the Artemis Accords coalition model. For China, it would mark a turning point in the “great national rejuvenation” project, capable of undermining the West’s monopoly on defining the rules of the game. In the eyes of the Global South, Beijing’s success could legitimize an alternative developmental path, enhancing the appeal of China’s cooperation offer. Thus, the stakes of the race are not a single mission, but the chance to establish the legal, technological, and symbolic frameworks of the entire coming cis-lunar era.

Analysis of the “China First” Scenario from a European Perspective

The future wheel method makes it possible to capture the multi-layered consequences of a scenario in which China becomes the first to achieve a crewed lunar landing. For Europe, this would not be a neutral outcome: it would shift narrative vectors, raise questions about the future of transatlantic cooperation, and simultaneously open a space for redefining Europe’s role in the emerging cis-lunar era.

First-order impacts (1–2 years horizon).

The most immediate consequence would be symbolic. A Chinese landing would become a global point of reference, comparable to the launch of Sputnik or the Apollo 11 mission. In the short term, Beijing would gain the ability to impose a narrative of a “new chapter in human history” and of the superiority of its own model of organizing space programs. Countries of the Global South, which already view the West through the prism of historical dominance, could interpret China’s success as evidence of an alternative developmental path. For Europe, the direct effect would be political pressure, as member state governments would begin questioning the adequacy of their current level of engagement in Artemis, while the media would highlight the risk of marginalization. Real cooperation with China is not on the table, but the underlying question is whether Europe should strengthen its ties with the United States and increase its own investments to avoid being relegated to the role of a passive observer.

Second-order impacts (3–5 years horizon).

The next layer would concern the economy and industrial policy. Europe’s space industry would face growing normative and technological competition. In the absence of global rules governing lunar resource exploitation, a logic of fait accompli would prevail: China, as the first on the surface, could attempt to establish infrastructure footholds under the International Lunar Research Station (ILRS) framework. It would intensify the pressure on Europe to either commit unequivocally to the U.S.-led Artemis Accords architecture or—much more difficult—to promote more neutral, multilateral arrangements. At the same time, Chinese success would strengthen arguments for increasing ESA’s budget: only through investments in lunar transport, In-Situ Resource Utilization (ISRU), and habitats could Europe preserve its agency. Importantly, Europe is not merely a bystander. The Orion European Service Module (ESM) is a crucial ESA contribution to Artemis and proof of European industrial capabilities. Similarly, Europe’s participation in the Gateway—the NASA-led lunar-orbit outpost forming part of the Artemis program—where robotics, logistics, and energy technologies can play a role, creates natural anchors of future cis-lunar presence. These assets give Europe tangible instruments of influence, provided they are strategically leveraged. Inaction, by contrast, would risk marginalization and the loss of standard-setting capacity. An additional danger lies in internal fragmentation: some member states would push for strict alignment with the United States, while others might advocate a more “open” policy toward China. Such divergences could undermine the cohesion of Europe’s space policy.

Third-order impacts (6–10 years horizon).

The most profound consequences relate to systemic shifts in the global balance of power. If China consolidates its primacy through follow-up missions and ILRS infrastructure, Europe would face a reality of lunar bipolarity. Every ESA move would then be interpreted through the lens of U.S.–China rivalry, narrowing Europe’s political room for maneuver. Yet, an alternative scenario also exists. The paradox of Chinese victory is that it would be achieved with conservative, relatively simple technology—closer to Apollo’s logic than to truly disruptive innovation. The United States and its partners, even if they lose the “sprint” for first place, are investing in potentially revolutionary capabilities: large-scale orbital refueling, megasized lander systems, nuclear power, and ISRU. If these technologies mature, the West could leap ahead in the long run, enabling accelerated breakthroughs in lunar and planetary exploration. In this case, China’s success would remain historic but ultimately temporary—a symbolic turning point, not a guarantee of lasting dominance.

The decisive milestones include successful demonstrations of multiple orbital cryogenic refuelings (enabling the HLS architecture), the first ISRU tests at the lunar south pole, and the deployment of small fission surface power reactors to ensure continuous habitat operations. If these projects succeed, the pace of exploration milestones would accelerate sharply, and China’s edge would prove short-lived.

From a European perspective, the “China first” scenario carries both opportunities and risks.

One key opportunity would be a fresh investment impulse, which could consolidate Europe’s space industry and create space for dynamic growth in the high-tech sector. China’s position as the first lunar power might paradoxically mobilize Europe to accelerate the development of its own transport and infrastructure capabilities. Another opportunity would lie in positioning Europe as a promoter of multilateralism and responsible norms of space governance, a role it could credibly play thanks to its reputation as a “normative power.” Finally, competitive pressure could stimulate the identification of technological niches where European firms might gain an edge, such as robotics, space-based energy, recycling, or orbital logistics.

The risks, however, are just as significant. The most immediate consequence is strategic marginalization if Europe confines itself to passively supporting the United States, thereby losing influence over the shaping of new lunar exploitation standards. Equally dangerous is the possibility of internal fragmentation within the European Union, as member states choose divergent approaches toward the U.S. and China, weakening common policy. Another risk is the erosion of Europe’s normative influence: if the ILRS begins establishing fait accompli while the Artemis Accords fail to achieve broad legitimacy, Europe will find itself with limited leverage over the emerging rules of the game. There is also a technological risk: U.S. and Chinese leadership in breakthrough capabilities could, by the 2030s, permanently constrain Europe’s ability to act independently in the cis-lunar domain. Finally, Europe faces the danger of being drawn deeper into the logic of great-power rivalry, leaving little room for its own initiatives.

The “China first” scenario could therefore serve both as a catalyst for modernization and as a source of strategic vulnerabilities. Ultimately, Europe’s response will determine the outcome. A Chinese lunar landing would become a test of Europe’s maturity as a strategic actor: whether it can step beyond the role of junior partner and actively shape the rules and technologies of the new cis-lunar era, or whether it remains confined to reactive policy, following the lead of the United States and China.

Conclusions

The “China first” scenario is not only about prestige but triggers consequences for Europe in terms of politics, technology, economy, and norms.

First, Europe must prepare for the loss of strategic comfort long provided by U.S. dominance. A Chinese lunar landing would tilt the narrative of technological hegemony toward Beijing and generate pressure on ESA and its member states to increase their contributions to Artemis and strengthen transatlantic ties. It does not mean closer cooperation with China, but avoiding marginalization within the U.S.-led project.

Second, space rivalry is not just a “technological sprint” but an “innovation marathon.” China may win the symbolic race with a conservative mission, while the United States —and Europe—invest in long-term advantages such as megatransport, orbital refueling, ISRU, and nuclear power. Europe must decide whether to remain a passive recipient of U.S. innovation or a co-creator of cis-lunar technologies.

Third, Europe faces a cohesion test. China’s success would likely magnify divergent national interests, with strong Atlanticists versus states seeking greater autonomy. Only coordination and increased ESA budgets can prevent Europe from fragmenting into subcontractors of the U.S. policy.

Fourth, the scenario presents Europe with a chance to act as a “normative power.” Amid U.S.–China polarization, Europe could shape rules for responsible cis-lunar activity, leveraging diplomacy rather than technological dominance.

Finally, Europe must target technological niches — such as robotics, energy, recycling, and orbital logistics—where it can build indispensable competencies. This would enable Europe to secure its economic interests while laying the groundwork for future autonomy.

In sum, China’s lunar primacy would test Europe’s maturity, exposing fragmentation and dependence on the United States, yet also providing a modernization impulse. Europe can emerge either as a passive actor in a “new lunar bipolarity” or as a third pillar capable of shaping norms and co-developing technologies.

Kamil Golemo PhD Candidate in International Relations at Maria Curie-Skłodowska University in Lublin. His research focuses on the strategic competition between the United States and China in the cis-lunar space, space policy, and the impact of emerging technologies on international security. He has published in academic journals such as Astropolitics and Asia-Pacific. He also applies strategic foresight methods to the study of space policy.