Space, the other battlefield between China and the United States

Two hours and fifty-one minutes before takeoff, the three Chinese astronauts parade before hundreds of people. Dressed in spacesuits, they stand at attention with a military salute. The crowd waves red pennants with five stars and sings a well-known patriotic hymn to the beat of an orchestra: "We sing to our beloved homeland, which from today advances toward prosperity and strength!" A banner encourages "learning from the astronauts." Others read: "The homeland and the people hope for your successful return." "Our journey heads toward the starry sky and the vast ocean," reads another. The three white figures climb into a van and salute one last time. They take off. The Long March 2F rocket, which will propel the Shenzhou-20 manned spacecraft , awaits them on the launch pad of the historic Jiuquan launch site, in the heart of the Gobi Desert, in western China. “I’m happy!” says a boy who has come from Shanghai, more than 2,000 kilometers away. He wears the Young Pioneers’ scarf around his neck; his mother wears a sticker with the Chinese flag on her cheek.

It's Thursday, April 24, and China is about to launch its 35th manned space program. The three taikonauts (a word that comes from taikong, meaning cosmos in Chinese) are scheduled to take off toward the Tiangong space station , one of the jewels of the People's Republic's stellar program and one of the best examples of the Asian giant's rapid advances in the space race, which have put the great power, the United States, on guard. Meanwhile, the Donald Trump administration is threatening to cut NASA's science budget in half .

The launch offers a rare opportunity to spend a couple of days circling inside a military-controlled base normally sealed off from the world. The Jiuquan Satellite Launch Center is a near-sacred site in Chinese cosmic mythology : opened in 1958 as an intercontinental missile testing ground, several of China's major space missions have launched from here.

On the day of the Shenzhou-20 launch, people begin to gather at the entrance, coming to see the takeoff as close as possible, just like at Cape Canaveral. Numerous buses line the roads in the area; someone has set up a tent on the desert clay; a father has brought his son; a group of retirees wait in the shade of a souvenir stand. Beside it, a huge sign indicates that one is about to enter forbidden territory: “Leaking secrets leads to imprisonment; protecting secrets brings happiness; selling secrets leads to execution.” A phone number is attached to report acts of espionage.

Once through the gate, the center doesn't look like a paragon of cutting-edge technology, at least not from what the authorities show the foreign press. The tour doesn't include access to control rooms filled with monitors or futuristic laboratories. The buildings visited are simple, and their interiors modest. As you drive from one side to the other, you can make out space motifs here and there. One of the roundabouts has been decorated with rockets and satellites; sculptures of plump astronauts have been placed in a park. The streetlights reproduce what appears to be the wake of a spacecraft. Officials wearing official blue overalls and the Shenzhou-20 mission patch on their shoulders circulate everywhere.

Ma Siran, a 25-year-old Pekingese with wild hair, is the designer of the patch. He was invited to watch the launch and explains why he created a triangular emblem: “It represents cutting-edge technology, stability, reliability.” It has a futuristic feel. “I want the next generations to maintain the spirit of innovation and continue trying something different.”

Everything is aligned to underline China's growing role in space. At the base, a huge billboard depicting President Xi Jinping, dressed in a military uniform, encourages people to "explore the vast universe" and build a "powerful space-faring nation."

Washington is watching with concern the speed with which China's milestones are being achieved. Space has become another arena of rivalry between the two superpowers, currently engaged in a colossal trade battle following Donald Trump's tariff barrage and Beijing's response. The competition has echoes of the Cold War. At stake are the capacity for innovation, the ability to deploy cutting-edge technology, and military dominance. Sending a rocket into space demonstrates a nation's might and is also a way to project its soft power in the form of dreams for future generations.

In early April, the head of the US Space Force, General Chance Saltzman , warned Congress that the rapid advancement of China's program represents a significant challenge to US dominance in orbit. He called Beijing's ambitions a "powerful destabilizing force." This struggle also played a central role in the recent Senate appearance of Jared Isaacman, the billionaire Trump has nominated to head NASA. He promised that the United States will return to the Moon before China and asserted that his priority will be to reach Mars with a manned mission.

The next five years will be crucial. The People's Republic has set the goal of sending astronauts to the Moon by 2030 and, in the medium term, establishing a permanent base on the satellite, a project it is preparing in collaboration with Russia. It has already landed a robot on the far side of the Moon and returned with samples; it has sent a probe to Mars, a planet also on the horizon for manned missions, although much more distant.

“Preparations for the manned lunar mission are progressing satisfactorily,” said Lin Xiqiang, a spokesman for the China Manned Space Agency, during an appearance at the base on Wednesday. Lin explained that the Long March-10 rocket, the Mengzhou manned spacecraft, the Lanyue lunar lander, and the Wangyu lunar rover are “developing prototypes as planned.” Some equipment will soon enter the testing and validation phase, he added. This week, the head of China’s Chang’e-8 mission—scheduled for 2028 and which will lay the groundwork for the construction of the lunar base—revealed some details of the plan, such as the possibility of building a nuclear plant on the satellite to supply the future station, according to Reuters.

Decades later, the Moon has become a place to return to. No human has set foot on it since the last American Apollo mission in 1972. Zhang Wei, a researcher at the Center for Space Applications of the Chinese Academy of Sciences, believes it has to do with a new approach: until now, lunar exploration was primarily aimed at studying it. This "more scientific" approach has given way to a stage of "lunar utilization," he commented in a press conference. And the new phase requires the ability "to explore and excavate."

Zhang mentions resources that could be exploited, such as solar energy from the Moon, lunar ice, and certain minerals, such as ilmenite or helium-3, an element that some describe as the fuel of the future . “Our technology is in the process of continuous development, and we can explore, develop, and utilize the Moon more extensively, which will help humans reach further,” he asserts. When asked if he thinks China will win the race back, he responds that they will take it step by step and according to their plan: “We are not going to compare ourselves to anyone.”

Zhou Yaqiang, a senior technology official for China's manned space program, also dodges the question about rivalry with the United States: "Our entire space industry upholds the general principle of peaceful use and development in the service of humanity," he replies. Zhou instead focuses on details of Shenzhou-20, the mission about to take off. One of its goals, he says, is to "lay a better technical foundation for the manned lunar landing mission."

The Tiangong space station is a testing ground where China conducts scientific experiments in search of breakthroughs related to cosmological exploration. Its first module was launched into orbit in 2021; it entered operational phase in 2022; since then, its crew has rotated every six months (those on Shenzhou-20 replace the three on Shenzhou-19). In the future, it could become the only one of its kind, when the International Space Station—a US-led project, from which China is barred due to the military ties to its space program—is retired in 2030.

During their stay at Tiangong (meaning Heavenly Palace), the Shenzhou-20 crew plans to conduct 59 scientific and technological experiments in space biological sciences, microgravity physics, and new space technologies, according to spokesperson Lin Xiqiang. They will seek to make progress in areas such as chip cultivation for vascularized brain organoids (cells that resemble the human brain), nonequilibrium dynamics of soft matter, and the in-space preparation of high-temperature superconducting materials.

To date, the station has hosted more than 200 scientific projects; more than 100 generated samples have been returned to Earth for study. And its laboratories have taken steps toward the in-orbit production of Bose-Einstein condensate , a state of matter obtained at temperatures near absolute zero, and the construction of the world's first experimental platform for quantum simulation using space-based optical networks, according to the China Manned Space Agency.

Some of the experiments are expected to yield relevant results in the development of new materials, the study of the physiological effects of space radiation, and biomagnetic effects at the molecular level. The new mission will conduct research with planarians (a type of flatworm with a simple structure), Streptomyces bacteria, and zebrafish to study problems such as bone loss and cardiovascular disorders caused by weightlessness—medical issues that pose challenges to human exploration of deep space.

“Every space voyage is unique,” ​​commented Commander Chen Dong, who led the Shenzhou-20 mission, on Wednesday, the day before takeoff. He is one of China’s most experienced astronauts. A 46-year-old former fighter pilot with numerous decorations, he was preparing to launch into space for the third time. “We hope to gain more experience and advance in the operation. The most important thing is to complete the work with zero errors,” he added during the appearance in which he and his fellow mission members were presented to the world behind a glass case, to avoid contact with the outside world.

The commander recalled that the launch would take place exactly 55 years after China's first major space milestone: on April 24, 1970, the People's Republic launched a satellite into orbit for the first time. That episode marked a nation trying to emerge from poverty and leave behind what is often called the "century of humiliation." Times were tough, with the country in the grip of the bloody Cultural Revolution. Chinese writer Liu Cixin, one of the most renowned science fiction authors, has recounted the impact that episode had on him as a child, and how it made him project his dreams into space. Today, he is celebrated outside of China, and at the same time, one of the authors given free rein by the Beijing authorities, aware that science fiction helps build the narrative as a technological power.

“It was the prelude to the Chinese people’s exploration of the vast universe,” recalled Commander Chen, flanked by his fellow mission members. Many of his remarks were infused with patriotic undertones. “This is not only a story of China’s struggle in space, but also a glorious story of takeoff.”

“I am fortunate to have been born in the new era and to be able to unite my personal dream with the Chinese dream and the dream of space,” added his companion Chen Zhongrui, 40, also a former air force pilot. The youngest of the three, Wang Jie, a 35-year-old aerospace engineer, recalled a childhood episode in his home province of Inner Mongolia: Yang Liwei, China’s first astronaut and a crew member of Shenzhou-5, landed there in 2003. “It inspired and moved the whole country. It touched me deeply. I felt astronauts were mysterious and sacred, and I yearned to fly into space,” he said. “Now I am finally welcoming my first flight and contributing to the building of a space power.”

The blue scaffolding has opened, revealing the Long March, white and vertical. Everything seems ready for launch. At 5:17 p.m. local time, dozens of people shout the countdown in Chinese from a concrete esplanade a kilometer and a half away. “ Wu, si, san, er, yi, dianhuo! [Five, four, three, two, one, takeoff!].” The rocket exhales a dense cloud of ochre-hued smoke. A shuddering roar is heard. An orange, then pale, flame propels the device skyward, disappearing in a few seconds. On the platform, the smoke hangs alongside enormous Chinese characters: “Self-reliance, innovation, and self-improvement.”