From golden citadels to divine shields, rulers across time have dreamt of impregnable security. But in every age, these ambitions have either collapsed under their own weight or have provoked greater instability. In 2025, this ancient dream went to orbit.
In May, U.S. President Donald Trump unveiled a bold new national defence initiative called the “Golden Dome”, a $175-billion space-based missile shield designed to fend off ballistic, hypersonic, and orbital threats. The plan involves deploying a constellation of satellite interceptors, potentially armed with kinetic or directed-energy weapons, to form a protective layer over the U.S.
Framed as a defence move, the project has sparked concerns worldwide for its geopolitical ramifications as well as for its implications under international space law. In particular, the Golden Dome challenges the Outer Space Treaty’s limits, raises constitutional concerns within the U.S., and puts pressure on key strategic partners such as India.
Loophole or legal red line?
At the heart of the legal debate is Article IV of the Outer Space Treaty (OST), 1967. It prohibits placing “nuclear weapons or other weapons of mass destruction” in orbit or stationing them “in outer space in any other manner”. It further mandates that celestial bodies shall be used “exclusively for peaceful purposes”.
The language of Article IV, particularly its explicit focus on Weapons of Mass Destruction (WMDs), has created a loophole for conventional weapons in space. The term “peaceful purposes” has been subject to various interpretations, with some nations claiming that it permits all non-aggressive military use, while others insist it implies complete demilitarisation.
The treaty further states: “The establishment of military bases, installations and fortifications, the testing of any type of weapons and the conduct of military manoeuvres on celestial bodies shall be forbidden.” The use of military personnel for scientific research or any other peaceful purposes isn’t prohibited, however. The use of any equipment or facility necessary to peacefully explore the moon and other celestial bodies is also not prohibited (Article IV).
Because the Golden Dome’s interceptors are not classified as WMDs, they don’t violate the letter of Article IV per se. There are a few concerns nonetheless. In arms control, the practical outcome must always take precedence over the technical details or official classifications of a weapon. This means what a weapon is called matters far less than its actual strategic effect.
For instance, if kinetic interceptors are used to disable or destroy missiles or satellites, their impact could fundamentally alter the balance of power in space. This capability could create a dangerous first-strike advantage for one nation, thereby eroding the principle of mutual deterrence, which relies on the threat of retaliation to prevent an attack. Such a development would undermine the core goal of arms control treaties, which is to foster stability through restraint, and could trigger a significant and destabilising shift in the dynamics of power in outer space.
UN General Assembly resolutions under the Prevention of an Arms Race in Outer Space (PAROS) Treaty, while lacking legal enforceability, have successfully established an interpretive norm against the militarisation of space. The deployment of space-based interceptors, therefore, directly threatens this norm and could trigger a cascade of similar actions by other nations.
These systems are plagued by dual-use ambiguity. A kinetic interceptor, ostensibly for missile defence, possesses the inherent capability to be instantly repurposed to neutralise an adversary’s vital communication or surveillance satellites. This inherent uncertainty risks inflaming suspicion and driving miscalculation, especially during heightened crises involving major space powers like China and Russia, both of which have already explicitly condemned the proposed deployment.
Partners in crossfire
India, a rising space power and a key U.S. partner in satellite tracking and space situational awareness, now finds itself tactically aligned but normatively conflicted. Quiet cooperation in areas like debris monitoring could tacitly link India to the Golden Dome’s strategic ecosystem. However, India is also a vocal champion of peaceful space use. It has consistently supported PAROS resolutions and has positioned itself as a leader of the Global South in advocating for equitable and demilitarised space governance.
Supporting or even appearing to tolerate the Golden Dome could undermine that credibility, damaging India’s image as a responsible spacefaring nation and a potential norm-setter in future treaty negotiations. Conversely, non-cooperation might strain its growing strategic ties with Washington. This dilemma becomes even more consequential in the context of India’s pending Space Activities Bill, which will shape how the country defines and regulates dual-use platforms, private-sector participation, and treaty compliance.
The Golden Dome is thus more than a U.S. policy issue: it’s a litmus test for India’s own legal and diplomatic posture and could significantly influence the direction and content of the Space Activities Bill.
Less than golden precedent
The broader concern is that the Golden Dome will normalise the weaponisation of outer space. If the U.S. crosses this threshold without facing legal repercussions, China, Russia, and other actors are likely to follow suit. This could trigger a destabilising cycle of orbital arms races, forcing smaller nations to resort to asymmetric capabilities, such as cyberattacks, jamming or even the deliberate generation of debris in orbit.
Such developments would not only weaken the OST’s authority but could also unravel the fragile consensus that has governed space for over half a century. In the absence of updated and enforceable treaties, outer space risks becoming a legal grey zone or, worse, a battlefield governed by force rather than law.
Thus, the Golden Dome is more than a military gamble or a political spectacle. It’s a legal inflection point for space governance in the 21st century. It exposes loopholes in a 58-year-old treaty, reveals structural weaknesses in domestic oversight, and underscores the urgent and immediate need for modern legal instruments that can keep pace with technological realities.
Strategic partners, such as India, along with like-minded spacefaring nations, should notably push to clarify and modernise the OST, especially the parts pertaining to dual-use and conventional space-based weapons. Advocacy for legally binding instruments on the non-deployment of weapons in space is of paramount importance. This pursuit of international agreements, which play a crucial role, should be complemented by establishing comprehensive transparency mechanisms for military space projects to reduce ambiguity and mistrust.
It’s also crucial that national laws, such as India’s Space Activities Bill, include clear guidelines for defence cooperation in space, fostering responsible practices both domestically and globally.
Shrawani Shagun is pursuing a PhD at National Law University, Delhi, focusing on environmental sustainability and space governance.
Published – July 08, 2025 08:30 am IST