Russia, NATO and Satellites: Why Vlad Still Needs His Boogie Men

Germany is not usually the country people picture when they think of space power. That is changing. Defence minister Boris Pistorius has been arguing that Germany must strengthen its satellite capabilities, moving from being a consumer of shared NATO imagery to a producer of hard power in orbit. Satellites are no longer just passive tools for navigation and weather. They are the nervous system of modern war. Without them, armies are blind, deaf, and slow.

This matters because Russia has been testing NATO’s patience with a series of probing manoeuvres. Aircraft edging into allied airspace, cyber incursions, interference with GPS. On the surface it looks like pointless provocation. But in reality, it is part of a deliberate script. Since the end of the Second World War, Moscow has always needed a villain. First it was the Germans, whose defeat was recast as the Soviet Union’s defining triumph. Then it was NATO and the Americans. Today, Vladimir Putin has decided it can be both, and maybe a few more for good measure.

The logic is cynical but effective. The scarier the outside world looks, the more ordinary Russians believe they need him. Propaganda is easier when it has a monster at the gates. The tragedy is that Russians often only admit how damaging a leader was once he is gone. Stalin, Brezhnev, Yeltsin, in power they were feared, even respected. Only later, sometimes decades later, are their failings freely discussed. It is as if Russian history demands that reckoning arrive too late to matter.

Putin’s behaviour is best understood through this lens. His provocations may look clumsy, but they serve different goals. Sometimes they are about bluffing NATO into believing Russian power is everywhere at once. Sometimes they are aimed inward, to convince Russians that the West is circling like a wolf pack. And sometimes, perhaps most dangerously, they are signals to Beijing and Pyongyang, designed to invoke sympathy and mutual defence. If he can present Russia as a besieged fortress, allies of convenience may be more inclined to offer support.

This is where satellites come in. If Germany and NATO expand their constellations, the bluff becomes harder to sustain. A fighter jet cannot sneak close to NATO airspace if its movements are mapped in real time. A cyber disruption cannot be shrugged off if its origin is traced back to Russian facilities. The more NATO can see, the less room there is for Russia’s smoke and mirrors.

Yet this shift carries its own risks. Space is becoming crowded and contested. Anti-satellite weapons are no longer science fiction. China, Russia, and the United States have all tested systems that could destroy or disable satellites. The more critical these assets become, the more tempting they are as targets. For Germany, entering this arena is not just about deterrence but about exposure. It means accepting that its infrastructure might be first on the hit list in any serious escalation.

For Putin, though, escalation is the point. He is desperate for a change in the trajectory of the war in Ukraine, and by extension, the balance with NATO. Without it, his position grows weaker. And history suggests where that leads. Eventually, the strongman becomes yesterday’s man, remembered in the West not as a towering figure but as a face on a student’s T-shirt, his ideology rebranded as misunderstood rebellion. It is the final indignity: to be reduced to nostalgia merchandise while your country cleans up the wreckage you left behind.

Until that day comes, satellites and strategy are the levers of power. Germany knows it. NATO knows it. And Putin knows it too, which is why he keeps looking for new enemies to wave at his people. The boogie men at the gate keep him in power. But they also show just how fragile his position has become.