The Story of European Human Spaceflight

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A Cooperative Odyssey

The story of humanity’s journey into space is often told as a tale of two giants. During the Cold War, the United States and the Soviet Union locked horns in a titanic struggle for technological and ideological supremacy, a race where every satellite launched and every astronaut sent into orbit was a demonstration of national power. Yet, while this superpower duel dominated the headlines, a different story was unfolding across the Atlantic. Europe’s path to the stars was never a sprint for a single flag but a long, complex, and often challenging marathon of collaboration. From its very beginnings, European human spaceflight has been defined by international cooperation, a model born from post-war necessity, political pragmatism, and a unique strategic vision.

This has created a persistent and fascinating tension that runs through the heart of Europe’s space endeavors: a constant pull between the ambition for sovereign, autonomous access to the cosmos and the successful, pragmatic reality of international partnership. Europe’s story is not that of one monolithic agency but of a continent’s evolving identity in space, a journey from fragmented national ambitions and early bilateral agreements to the creation of a unified European Space Agency (ESA). This article traces that evolution, following the path from the first tentative steps of individual nations, through the foundational partnerships that first carried Europeans into orbit, to Europe’s pivotal role as a builder and operator of the International Space Station (ISS). It examines the ambitious dream of an independent European spaceplane and explores the continent’s current position as a key partner in humanity’s return to the Moon and the exploration of Mars, a role that once again raises the question of whether Europe’s future in space lies with its partners or on a path of its own making.

The Foundations of a Space Power

Before Europe could act as a unified entity in space, its constituent nations first had to reckon with their own histories and ambitions. The landscape of post-war Europe was one of divergent paths. In Germany, a significant and dark technological legacy had to be overcome. In France, a fierce drive for strategic independence set the nation on a solitary course. And across the continent, the realization grew that the immense costs and complexities of space exploration demanded a new kind of cooperation. It was from these disparate starting points that the foundations of a European space power were laid, a process that saw national pride and collaborative necessity slowly converge.

The Post-War Inheritance: Divergent National Paths

The end of the Second World War left Europe’s nascent aerospace capabilities in a state of fragmentation. The continent’s two future space leaders, Germany and France, emerged with vastly different legacies and philosophies that would shape the trajectory of European spaceflight for decades to come.

Germany’s inheritance was both technologically advanced and morally fraught. During the war, the Nazi regime’s V-2 missile program, led by engineer Wernher von Braun at the Peenemünde research center, had created the world’s first long-range guided ballistic missile. On June 20, 1944, a V-2 became the first human-made object to cross the Kármán line, the recognized boundary of space. This technical achievement was built on the suffering of thousands of forced laborers from concentration camps who died in the brutal conditions of the underground Mittelwerk factory. When the war ended, this dark legacy was scattered. The victorious Allies raced to seize German rocket technology and personnel. Von Braun and over 100 of his key scientists surrendered to the Americans and were brought to the United States under Operation Paperclip, where they became the foundational architects of the U.S. Army’s missile programs and, later, NASA’s Saturn V rocket that carried astronauts to the Moon. The Soviet Union, in turn, captured the V-2 manufacturing facilities and moved production to its own territory. This diaspora of talent and hardware left post-war Germany with a rich history in rocketry but a prohibited and dismantled capacity, forcing it to find a new, collaborative path back into the field.

France, in stark contrast, embarked on a determined quest for strategic autonomy. This ambition was deeply rooted in a long cultural fascination with space, from Jules Verne’s 19th-century novels to Georges Méliès’ early films. Under the leadership of President Charles de Gaulle, who sought to carve out a geopolitical path independent of the two Cold War superpowers, France made space capability a national priority. In 1961, the government established the Centre National d’Études Spatiales (CNES) to coordinate all French space activities. This effort culminated in the development of the Diamant launcher. On November 26, 1965, a Diamant rocket successfully launched the Astérix satellite from a base in Algeria, making France the third nation in the world, after the Soviet Union and the United States, to achieve an independent launch capability. This singular achievement established France not only as an early European space power but also as the primary advocate for a sovereign European presence in space, a role it would continue to play for decades.

West Germany, meanwhile, pursued a different strategy. After the Allied-imposed ban on rocketry was lifted in 1955, the nation focused its resources on scientific research and international cooperation. It established national organizations like the German Test and Research Institute for Aviation and Spaceflight (DFVLR), the precursor to the modern German Aerospace Center (DLR). West Germany’s leaders made a conscious decision to prioritize funding for pan-European projects over a purely national program. They viewed collaboration as the most effective and politically astute way to rebuild their scientific and industrial base. This approach positioned West Germany as a key proponent of a unified European space effort, favoring pragmatic partnerships that could achieve large-scale scientific goals.

This fundamental difference in philosophy between the continent’s two leading spacefaring nations – France’s pursuit of strategic independence versus Germany’s emphasis on scientific collaboration – created a dynamic tension that has defined European space policy ever since. It is not merely a historical footnote but the core political DNA of the European Space Agency. French initiatives have often pushed for European autonomy, as seen with the Ariane launcher and the later Hermes spaceplane. German contributions, on the other hand, have frequently favored large-scale international partnerships that promised significant scientific returns and shared costs, such as the Spacelab and Columbus laboratory projects. This duality, far from being a weakness, became the central engine of European space policy, creating a unique balance between grand ambition and pragmatic execution.

Forging a European Identity in Space

By the early 1960s, it was clear to many European leaders that no single nation, not even France with its independent launch capability, could compete with the vast resources of the superpowers. The only viable path forward was to pool resources and expertise. This led to the creation of two precursor organizations: the European Launcher Development Organisation (ELDO), formed in 1961 to build a European rocket, and the European Space Research Organisation (ESRO), formed in 1963 to focus on scientific satellites.

Both organizations struggled. They were hampered by underfunding and the diverging interests of their member states. ELDO’s rocket, named Europa, was a complex multinational project that suffered from a lack of centralized management and a series of launch failures. ESRO was more successful, launching several scientific satellites, but it lacked a reliable European rocket to carry them. The shortcomings of this divided approach became undeniable.

The solution was consolidation. In 1975, ten founding member states – Belgium, Denmark, France, West Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, and the United Kingdom – signed the convention that officially merged ELDO and ESRO into a single, unified body: the European Space Agency (ESA). This was a landmark moment. For the first time, Europe had a single organization capable of managing the entire spectrum of space activities, from science and technology development to launcher construction and operations.

Driven largely by French political will and financial backing, one of ESA’s first and most important undertakings was the Ariane program. Learning from the failures of ELDO, the Ariane launcher was developed under a more streamlined management structure with France taking the lead. The first Ariane 1 rocket launched successfully from Europe’s new spaceport in Kourou, French Guiana, on Christmas Eve, 1979. The subsequent development of the Ariane 4 rocket in the late 1980s established ESA as the world leader in the commercial satellite launch market. With Ariane, Europe had finally achieved reliable, independent access to space, fulfilling a long-held strategic goal and cementing its status as the world’s third major space power.

First Steps into Orbit – The Age of Partnership

Despite the success of the Ariane launcher program, Europe in the late 1970s and 1980s still lacked one key capability: the means to send its own astronauts into space. The dream of an autonomous European crewed vehicle was still decades away. To take their first steps into orbit, Europeans had to look to the established space superpowers. In a masterful display of geopolitical agility, European nations and the newly formed ESA forged partnerships on both sides of the Iron Curtain, securing seats on Soviet Soyuz capsules and the American Space Shuttle. This era of partnership was not just a matter of convenience; it was a deliberate strategy that allowed Europe to gain invaluable operational experience, build diplomatic bridges, and position itself as a uniquely versatile and indispensable partner for the future of international space exploration.

Riding East: The Interkosmos Alliance

The very first person from a European country to fly in space was not an ESA astronaut, nor was he from Western Europe. On March 2, 1978, Czechoslovakian military pilot Vladimír Remek launched aboard the Soyuz 28 spacecraft, becoming the first non-Soviet, non-American human to reach orbit. His flight was part of the Soviet Union’s Interkosmos program, an initiative that offered flights on Soyuz missions to cosmonauts from allied socialist nations. While framed as a gesture of international cooperation, Interkosmos was also a powerful tool of Cold War diplomacy, designed to demonstrate the unity and technological prowess of the Eastern Bloc.

Following Remek’s historic flight, other Eastern European nations soon sent their own citizens into space. In June 1978, Mirosław Hermaszewski of Poland flew on Soyuz 30, becoming his country’s first and only cosmonaut. Just two months later, in August 1978, Sigmund Jähn of the German Democratic Republic (East Germany) launched on Soyuz 31. His mission was a major propaganda victory for the GDR, which celebrated him as the “first German in space,” a title that rankled officials in West Germany. These Interkosmos missions were short, typically lasting about a week, but they provided the cosmonauts with the opportunity to conduct a range of scientific experiments aboard the Salyut 6 space station, from materials science to biological studies.

While most European participation with the Soviets occurred under the Interkosmos umbrella, France once again carved its own path. As part of its policy of maintaining a degree of independence from the United States and NATO, France had cultivated a unique relationship with the Soviet Union in space cooperation. In 1979, the French space agency CNES signed an agreement for a French “spationaute” to fly on a Soviet mission. On June 24, 1982, French Air Force pilot Jean-Loup Chrétien launched aboard Soyuz T-6, spending a week on the Salyut 7 space station. His flight, known as the Premier Vol Habité (First Manned Flight), made him the first person from Western Europe to go into space. Unlike the Interkosmos missions, Chrétien’s flight was a national French project, a testament to the country’s distinctive geopolitical balancing act during the final decade of the Cold War.

Riding West: The Spacelab Revolution

As some Europeans were flying east on Soyuz, others were looking west to a revolutionary new partnership with NASA. The advent of the Space Shuttle in the early 1980s offered a new way to work in orbit. Its large cargo bay could carry a fully equipped laboratory, turning the orbiter into a temporary space station for scientific research. Seizing this opportunity, ESA embarked on its first major human spaceflight collaboration with NASA: the Spacelab program.

In a landmark agreement signed in 1973, ESA committed to developing and funding a modular, reusable laboratory that would fly in the Shuttle’s payload bay. In exchange for this billion-dollar contribution, NASA would provide flight opportunities for European astronauts. This arrangement was a strategic masterstroke for Europe. It provided a direct path into Western human spaceflight and gave European scientists unprecedented access to a microgravity research environment.

To fly on these missions, ESA began its first astronaut selection in 1977. From thousands of applicants, three scientists were chosen: Ulf Merbold, a physicist from West Germany; Claude Nicollier, an astrophysicist from Switzerland; and Wubbo Ockels, a physicist from the Netherlands. They, along with a fourth candidate who later resigned, formed the inaugural class of ESA astronauts.

On November 28, 1983, the first Spacelab mission, STS-9, lifted off aboard the Space Shuttle Columbia. Onboard was Ulf Merbold, who made history as the first ESA astronaut to fly in space. The ten-day mission was a resounding scientific success, with the crew working around the clock to conduct over 70 experiments in fields as diverse as atmospheric physics, materials science, and life sciences. Merbold’s flight was not only a personal milestone but also a symbolic one, making him the first West German citizen in space and the first non-American to fly on a NASA spacecraft.

The Spacelab program continued throughout the 1980s and 1990s, with European astronauts flying on numerous missions. The collaboration also allowed for nationally funded flights. The most prominent of these was the German Spacelab D-1 mission (STS-61-A) in 1985. Aboard the Space Shuttle Challenger were three German astronauts: Reinhard Furrer and Ernst Messerschmid, representing the German space agency, and ESA’s Wubbo Ockels. It was the largest crew to fly into space at the time and marked the first and only time a human space mission was operated and controlled from outside the United States or the Soviet Union, with payload operations managed from the German Space Operations Center in Oberpfaffenhofen. The Spacelab program was revolutionary, establishing a model of international scientific collaboration in orbit that would pave the way for the International Space Station.

The dual-track approach of this era was a testament to Europe’s skillful navigation of the complex Cold War landscape. By flying with both the Soviets and the Americans, European nations were not merely passive passengers; they were active participants in a sophisticated geopolitical strategy. This allowed them to accumulate diverse operational experience, learning the intricacies of both Soyuz and Space Shuttle systems, while building the diplomatic bridges and technical expertise that would position them as a uniquely capable and trusted international partner in the post-Cold War world.

The Dream of Autonomy – The Rise and Fall of Hermes

While the partnerships with the United States and the Soviet Union were undeniably successful, they reinforced a fundamental reality: Europe was a passenger, not a pilot. The desire for strategic independence – a core tenet of French space policy that had been partially adopted by ESA through the Ariane program – remained unfulfilled in the domain of human spaceflight. In the 1980s, this ambition crystallized into a single, audacious project: the Hermes spaceplane. It was to be Europe’s answer to the Space Shuttle, a reusable, winged vehicle that would grant the continent autonomous access to low Earth orbit. For over a decade, Hermes represented Europe’s hopes for a sovereign human spaceflight capability. Its eventual cancellation in 1992 was a watershed moment, a “successful failure” that would significantly reshape Europe’s approach to its future in space.

A Shuttle for Europe: The Genesis of Hermes

The Hermes project was officially initiated by the French space agency CNES in 1975, conceived as a small, reusable spaceplane that could be launched atop a future, more powerful version of the Ariane rocket. The strategic motivation was clear: to give Europe its own means to service future space stations, conduct in-orbit interventions, and transport astronauts without relying on other space powers. After years of preliminary studies, France successfully campaigned to have the project adopted by ESA. In 1987, Hermes was formally “Europeanized,” becoming a cornerstone of the agency’s long-term plan alongside the development of the Ariane 5 launcher and the Columbus laboratory module.

The initial design envisioned a mini-shuttle capable of carrying four to six astronauts and a payload of several tons in an unpressurized cargo bay. the project’s trajectory was irrevocably altered by the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster in January 1986. The tragedy sent shockwaves through the global space community and forced a complete re-evaluation of crew safety. The Hermes design underwent a substantial and costly overhaul. The crew cabin was shrunk to accommodate only three astronauts, who would be provided with ejection seats for low-altitude emergencies. The cargo bay was redesigned to be fully pressurized and its doors were eliminated, meaning Hermes could no longer deploy or retrieve satellites. A new, disposable, cone-shaped resource module was added to the rear of the spaceplane to house propulsion and power systems; this module would be jettisoned before reentry.

These changes dramatically increased the vehicle’s weight and complexity, which in turn had a direct impact on its launch vehicle. The development of the Ariane 5 heavy-lift rocket became inextricably linked to the demands of Hermes. The spaceplane’s mass, which swelled to over 20 metric tons, dictated the powerful performance required of Ariane 5. The need for human-rating meant the launcher had to be designed to an unprecedented level of reliability. In essence, Hermes was the primary justification and design driver for what would become Europe’s most powerful and successful rocket.

The Unflown Future: The Cancellation of a Dream

Despite years of development and significant investment, Hermes never flew. The project was officially cancelled in 1992, the victim of a “perfect storm” of technical, financial, and geopolitical crises. The post-Challenger redesigns had caused the budget to balloon and the vehicle’s weight to spiral, making its performance goals increasingly unachievable. The program was plagued by technical challenges and inefficient management, as multiple industrial partners across Europe struggled to coordinate their efforts.

Just as these internal problems were mounting, the world outside was changing with breathtaking speed. The fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, followed by the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, completely altered the geopolitical landscape. German reunification became the nation’s top priority, diverting immense financial resources that might have otherwise gone to Hermes. At the same time, the end of the Cold War opened the door to unprecedented international cooperation in space, particularly with Russia. With the prospect of a truly global partnership to build a space station, the strategic urgency for an independent European crew vehicle seemed to fade.

Support for the project also eroded within Europe. Germany, a key financial contributor, grew increasingly wary of the escalating costs and what some perceived as France’s overbearing leadership of the program. The scientific community, especially in France, became more vocal in its opposition, arguing that the colossal budget for Hermes was starving more scientifically valuable uncrewed missions of funding. This ignited a fierce debate about the very purpose of European human spaceflight: was it a tool for geopolitical prestige, as its proponents argued, or a platform for science that should be pursued in the most cost-effective way possible?

This unresolved philosophical conflict ultimately sealed the project’s fate. With technical hurdles mounting, costs soaring, and its strategic rationale weakening, political backing for Hermes collapsed. In November 1992, the ESA Council effectively cancelled the program. The decision marked the end of Europe’s dream of autonomous human spaceflight for a generation.

Yet, the legacy of Hermes is more complex than simple failure. The project pushed European industry to the cutting edge of aerospace technology, from thermal protection systems to advanced avionics. Most importantly, the demanding requirements of Hermes had forced the development of the Ariane 5 rocket. Freed from the constraints of carrying the spaceplane, Ariane 5 was repurposed into a highly reliable and versatile launcher for commercial satellites and scientific probes. It went on to become a cornerstone of Europe’s space capability for over two decades. The abandonment of Hermes was a pivotal moment that confirmed Europe’s path would be one of pragmatic international cooperation, a direction that would soon lead it to become a foundational partner in the International Space Station.

A Permanent Presence – Europe on the Space Stations

The cancellation of the Hermes spaceplane in 1992 could have been a debilitating blow to European human spaceflight ambitions. Instead, it became a strategic pivot. Freed from the immense financial and technical burden of developing its own crewed vehicle, Europe redirected its resources and political will toward what it did best: international cooperation. This pragmatic shift defined the next quarter-century of its activities. By leveraging a growing partnership with Russia on the Mir space station and then committing fully to the International Space Station (ISS) program, Europe transformed itself from an occasional visitor into a permanent resident and indispensable partner in humanity’s orbital outpost.

The Mir Experience: The Euromir Missions

Before the first modules of the ISS were even launched, Europe gained vital experience in long-duration spaceflight through a series of missions to Russia’s Mir space station. The Euromir program, a collaboration between ESA and the Russian space agency, was designed as a precursor to the ISS era, giving European astronauts, scientists, and ground controllers the hands-on experience needed for permanent orbital operations.

The first of these missions, Euromir 94, sent veteran ESA astronaut Ulf Merbold to Mir for a 31-day stay. A year later, the Euromir 95 mission sent fellow German astronaut Thomas Reiter for a much more ambitious flight. Reiter spent 179 days aboard Mir, setting a new endurance record for a non-Russian astronaut. During his six-month stay, he conducted a comprehensive program of 41 scientific experiments and performed two extravehicular activities (EVAs), or spacewalks, becoming the first ESA astronaut to work in the vacuum of space outside a spacecraft. The Euromir missions were immensely valuable, providing ESA with important insights into the medical and psychological challenges of long-duration missions and deepening the operational ties with its Russian partners that would be essential for the upcoming ISS program.

Building a Home in Orbit: Europe and the ISS

As the ISS program took shape in the mid-1990s, Europe committed to becoming a full partner, contributing key hardware in exchange for utilization rights and flight opportunities for its astronauts. This commitment was accompanied by a major organizational step. In 1998, ESA formally created a single, unified European Astronaut Corps, merging the existing national astronaut teams from France, Germany, and Italy into one pan-European body. Based at the newly established European Astronaut Centre (EAC) in Cologne, Germany, this unified corps would train astronauts for missions to the ISS and beyond.

Europe’s two most significant hardware contributions to the ISS were the Columbus laboratory and the Automated Transfer Vehicle (ATV).

The Columbus module is Europe’s science laboratory in orbit and ESA’s single largest contribution to the station. Developed under the leadership of Germany and Italy, the 4.5-meter-diameter cylindrical module was launched aboard the Space Shuttle Atlantis in February 2008 and attached to the station. Columbus is a state-of-the-art, multi-disciplinary research facility containing ten standardized racks for experiments in fields such as life sciences, materials science, and fluid physics. It also features four external platforms for mounting experiments that require exposure to the vacuum of space. Since its installation, the lab has hosted thousands of experiments controlled by scientists across the continent via the Columbus Control Centre in Oberpfaffenhofen, Germany, making it the cornerstone of European research in microgravity.

The Automated Transfer Vehicle (ATV) was Europe’s uncrewed cargo resupply spacecraft, and at the time, the most complex space vehicle ever built on the continent. Between 2008 and 2015, five ATV missions were launched on Ariane 5 rockets. Each was named after a great European scientist or visionary: Jules Verne, Johannes Kepler, Edoardo Amaldi, Albert Einstein, and Georges Lemaître. The ATVs were logistical workhorses, delivering over 31,500 kg of supplies to the ISS, including dry cargo, water, air, and propellant. While docked, an ATV served as an extra module for the station and used its powerful engines to perform regular reboosts, raising the station’s orbit to counteract atmospheric drag. The ATV’s most remarkable feature was its highly advanced automated rendezvous and docking system, which allowed it to navigate to and connect with the station with pinpoint precision. This mastery of autonomous flight technology, developed in the wake of the Hermes cancellation, was a strategic achievement. It not only fulfilled Europe’s ISS obligations but also quietly built the foundational expertise that would later be adapted for the Orion spacecraft, making the ATV program Europe’s stealthy path back toward developing human-rated systems.

Europeans in Command: Life and Work on the ISS

With its hardware in place, Europe began to establish a continuous human presence on the ISS. The first ESA astronaut to visit the station was Italy’s Umberto Guidoni in 2001, on a short Space Shuttle mission to deliver cargo. The first European to serve as a long-duration expedition crew member was Thomas Reiter, who spent six months on the station in 2006, building on his experience from Mir.

Since then, a steady stream of European astronauts has lived and worked on the orbiting laboratory, evolving from junior partners to fully integrated crew members and leaders. In 2009, Belgian astronaut Frank De Winne became the first European to serve as Commander of the International Space Station, responsible for the overall safety and operation of the outpost and its multinational crew. This was a significant milestone, demonstrating the trust and respect Europe had earned among its international partners. In the years that followed, five other Europeans have held the command: Germany’s Alexander Gerst, Italy’s Luca Parmitano, France’s Thomas Pesquet, Italy’s Samantha Cristoforetti (the first European woman to hold the post), and Denmark’s Andreas Mogensen.

Life on the station for these astronauts is a demanding mix of science, maintenance, and logistics. They conduct hundreds of experiments in the Columbus lab and other modules, from studying the effects of microgravity on the human body to testing new materials and technologies. Astronauts like Alexander Gerst on his Blue Dot and Horizons missions, Thomas Pesquet on his Proxima and Alpha missions, and Samantha Cristoforetti on her Futura and Minerva missions have become public figures, sharing their experiences through stunning photography and social media, and inspiring a new generation of Europeans. They have also become seasoned spacewalkers, venturing outside the station for complex tasks like installing new hardware, repairing cooling systems, and upgrading power channels. These long-duration missions have solidified Europe’s role as a core member of the ISS partnership and built a deep reservoir of operational expertise that is now being leveraged for the next great leap in human exploration.

Charting a New Course – The Return to the Moon and Beyond

As the International Space Station program enters its final decade, the focus of human space exploration is shifting. A new era is dawning, one aimed at establishing a sustainable human presence on the Moon and preparing for the first human missions to Mars. In this next chapter, Europe is not merely a participant but a critical partner, providing essential technology that makes this ambitious vision possible. This deepened reliance on international partnership has also reignited the long-standing debate within Europe about the need for its own autonomous space transportation capabilities, sparking a new wave of innovation and ambition for the decades to come.

A New Era of Transportation

The retirement of the U.S. Space Shuttle in 2011 marked a significant transition in human spaceflight. For nearly a decade, the Russian Soyuz spacecraft became the sole means of transporting crews to and from the ISS, a service for which NASA and ESA paid a premium. This period of complete reliance on a single partner highlighted the strategic vulnerability of depending on others for access to space.

The landscape changed again with the success of NASA’s Commercial Crew Program. Since 2020, American companies, most prominently SpaceX with its Crew Dragon spacecraft, have been providing regular crew transportation services to the ISS. This has opened a new pathway for European astronauts. ESA now procures seats on these commercial flights through its partnership with NASA, and astronauts like Thomas Pesquet and Samantha Cristoforetti have already flown to the station aboard a Crew Dragon. This shift represents another evolution in Europe’s partnership model, moving from government-to-government agreements to leveraging a new commercial space economy.

Destination Moon: Europe in the Artemis Program

Europe’s most significant role in the new era of exploration lies in its partnership with NASA on the Artemis program, which aims to return humans to the lunar surface. Europe’s contribution is not peripheral; it is mission-critical, making it an indispensable partner in this historic endeavor.

The centerpiece of this contribution is the European Service Module (ESM) for the Orion spacecraft. The ESM is the powerhouse of Orion, providing its primary propulsion, electrical power from four large solar arrays, and life support systems like water and oxygen for the crew. This complex piece of hardware is a direct technological descendant of the Automated Transfer Vehicle. ESA and its industrial partners, led by Airbus, adapted the proven systems and expertise from the ATV program to create the human-rated service module for a deep-space exploration vehicle. The successful uncrewed flight of Artemis I in 2022, which sent an Orion spacecraft with its ESM on a journey around the Moon and back, was a triumphant validation of European technology and a testament to the long-term strategic value of the ATV program.

Beyond Orion, Europe is also a key builder of the Lunar Gateway, the small space station that will be assembled in orbit around the Moon to serve as a staging post for lunar missions. ESA is providing two major components: the International Habitation Module (I-HAB), which will provide living quarters for astronauts visiting the Gateway, and the ESPRIT (European System Providing Refueling, Infrastructure and Telecommunications) module, which will provide refueling capabilities and advanced communications.

In exchange for these vital hardware contributions, ESA has secured flight opportunities for three of its astronauts on future Artemis missions. Seats have already been confirmed on the Artemis IV and Artemis V missions, planned for the late 2020s. These flights will mark the first time that European astronauts have ventured beyond low Earth orbit, and it is anticipated that at least one of them will walk on the surface of the Moon.

The Future of European Autonomy: A Renewed Debate

The deep integration into the Artemis program has, paradoxically, fueled a renewed debate within Europe about the need for autonomy. While the partnership with NASA is providing unprecedented opportunities, the geopolitical landscape is increasingly uncertain. The reliance on American rockets and spacecraft for crew transport is seen by some as a strategic liability. This has led ESA and a growing European commercial space sector to once again explore concepts for independent European crewed vehicles.

As an incremental step, ESA is developing the Space Rider, a reusable uncrewed robotic spaceplane. Designed to be launched on a Vega-C rocket, Space Rider will spend up to two months in orbit, performing experiments and technology demonstrations in a self-contained laboratory before reentering the atmosphere and landing on a runway. It represents a stepping stone toward more advanced reusable systems.

Looking further ahead, several ambitious concepts for crewed vehicles are now on the drawing board. The most prominent is SUSIE (Smart Upper Stage for Innovative Exploration), a proposal from ArianeGroup. SUSIE is envisioned as a fully reusable vehicle that would launch atop an Ariane 6 rocket, capable of carrying either up to five astronauts or seven tons of cargo. It features an integrated launch abort system and is designed for a propulsive vertical landing, similar to SpaceX’s vehicles. Other commercial ventures, like Spain’s PLD Space with its proposed LINCE capsule, are also developing integrated rocket and crew vehicle systems.

These new ambitions are driven by a long-term vision that extends beyond the Moon. ESA’s strategic roadmap, “Strategy 2040,” outlines a goal of sending European astronauts to the Moon by the end of this decade and preparing for human missions to Mars by the 2040s. This forward-looking agenda provides the map impetus for developing the independent capabilities that would allow Europe to pursue these goals on its own terms. This modern strategy represents a sophisticated dual path: deepening international dependency through critical contributions to the Artemis program, while simultaneously using the industrial base and expertise gained from that work to lay the groundwork for future autonomy. Europe is using its partnership today as a bridge to its independence tomorrow.

Summary

The story of European human spaceflight is a unique odyssey, one that charts a course distinct from the superpower narratives that defined the dawn of the space age. It is a journey that began not with a race, but with the careful assembly of a coalition. From the fragmented national ambitions of post-war France and Germany, a unified and powerful agency was forged, built on the foundational principle of cooperation. For decades, this principle has been Europe’s greatest strength. By skillfully navigating the Cold War to fly on both Soviet Soyuz and American Shuttle missions, Europe gained a wealth of experience that few could match.

This collaborative ethos reached its zenith with the International Space Station. Through cornerstone contributions like the Columbus laboratory and the technologically advanced Automated Transfer Vehicle, Europe cemented its place as an indispensable partner in humanity’s first permanent outpost in orbit. Its astronauts evolved from short-term guests to long-duration residents and respected commanders, demonstrating a maturity and capability on par with their American and Russian counterparts.

Throughout this journey, the dream of autonomy has been a constant, powerful undercurrent. The ambitious Hermes spaceplane represented the most direct pursuit of this dream, and its cancellation was a significant lesson in the complexities of balancing political will, technical feasibility, and financial reality. Yet, the story of Hermes was not one of utter failure. The project left behind the Ariane 5 rocket, a world-class launcher, and a wealth of engineering knowledge. More importantly, its abandonment solidified Europe’s commitment to the cooperative path, a decision that has paid enormous dividends.

Today, Europe stands at a new threshold. Its critical role in the Artemis program, providing the powerhouse for the Orion spacecraft and key modules for the Lunar Gateway, has elevated it from a partner in low Earth orbit to an essential player in humanity’s return to deep space. This deep integration has been earned through decades of proven reliability and technological excellence. It has also, once again, brought the question of autonomy to the forefront. With new concepts for reusable crewed vehicles emerging from its industrial base, Europe is now seriously contemplating a future where it is no longer reliant on others for access to space.

Europe’s journey has been one of masterful pragmatism. It has consistently used cooperation to build the capacity that now makes true autonomy a realistic possibility for the first time. Having learned from both East and West, and having matured through decades of partnership, Europe is no longer just a passenger. It is a pilot, holding a vital position in the cockpit of international space exploration, ready to chart its own course to the Moon, Mars, and beyond – whether with its trusted partners or, perhaps one day, on a vessel of its own making.