Hong Kong’s inclusion in China’s space programme is not a gesture of goodwill. It is a strategic signal. Documents obtained by this newsroom confirm that Beijing views the city’s first astronaut as a propaganda tool to project unity and technological prowess. The launch, scheduled for next week, will see a Hong Kong-born payload specialist join a Shenzhou mission to the Tiangong space station. Sources close to the programme say the astronaut’s role is largely ceremonial, but the symbolism is potent.
Behind the scenes, Whitehall is scrambling. The UK’s space surveillance network has been tasked with monitoring the launch trajectory and potential debris fields. A classified memo, leaked to this journalist, warns that China’s rapid expansion in low Earth orbit poses a direct challenge to British satellite interests. The memo cites the dual-use nature of China’s Long March rockets, which can double as ballistic missile boosters. “We are assessing the threat picture in real time,” a defence source said, off the record.
Hong Kong’s inclusion is a calculated move to normalise the integration of the territory under national security law. The astronaut, an atmospheric scientist trained in Beijing, is a product of the same system that crushed the city’s pro-democracy movement. Beijing wants to show that Hong Kong’s future lies in serving the motherland’s ambitions, not its own.
But the numbers tell a different story. China’s space budget has tripled in the past decade, surpassing £8 billion annually. Much of this funding is opaque, routed through state-owned enterprises with links to the People’s Liberation Army. The UK’s own space budget, by contrast, is a fraction of that. The threat assessment, according to the memo, is not just about military escalation but economic espionage. Chinese satellites are increasingly used to snoop on British maritime traffic and energy infrastructure.
A senior Foreign Office official, speaking on condition of anonymity, admitted that “we are behind the curve”. The UK’s space command, established only in 2021, lacks the resources to counter China’s orbital build-up. “They can launch a dozen satellites while we are still writing a procurement tender,” the official added.
Meanwhile, Hong Kong’s mainstream media has been ordered to portray the astronaut as a hero. The state-run Xinhua news agency has already published a hagiography, calling the mission a “new chapter in the motherland’s space saga”. But dissidents see it differently. A pro-democracy activist, who asked not to be named, called the astronaut “a mascot for a police state”. The activist noted that Hong Kong’s participation came only after the implementation of the draconian Article 23 security legislation.
The timing of the launch is also revealing. It coincides with a diplomatic push by Beijing to win over African and Southeast Asian nations for its International Lunar Research Station. The UK, excluded from that project, is now forging partnerships with the US and Japan to counter China’s lunar ambitions.
For London, the immediate concern is the technology transfer. The Hong Kong astronaut will have access to sensitive experiments on Tiangong, including advanced materials and biological samples. UK intelligence fears that these could be reverse-engineered for military applications. “Every scientific paper published from the station is a potential weapons manual,” a defence analyst warned.
In the end, the launch is a reminder that space is no longer a frontier of exploration. It is a theatre for geopolitical competition. And Hong Kong, once a symbol of East-West cooperation, is now a pawn in Beijing’s game. The threat to the UK is not imminent but it is real. As one Whitehall source put it: “The clock is ticking.”
