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By:

Sagari Gupta

24 March 2026 at 2:16:04 pm

SpaceX’s IPO and India’s Sovereignty

The record-breaking $1.75 trillion IPO underscores a new reality that nations which do not control critical digital infrastructure risk ceding part of their sovereignty. Last week, SpaceX listed on Nasdaq under the ticker SPCX, raising $75 billion at a staggering valuation of $1.75 trillion. That single offering surpassed Saudi Aramco’s 2019 record of $25.6 billion by a factor of three. India’s defence budget for FY 2025-26 was Rs. 6.81 lakh crore, approximately $78.57 billion, according to...

SpaceX’s IPO and India’s Sovereignty

The record-breaking $1.75 trillion IPO underscores a new reality that nations which do not control critical digital infrastructure risk ceding part of their sovereignty. Last week, SpaceX listed on Nasdaq under the ticker SPCX, raising $75 billion at a staggering valuation of $1.75 trillion. That single offering surpassed Saudi Aramco’s 2019 record of $25.6 billion by a factor of three. India’s defence budget for FY 2025-26 was Rs. 6.81 lakh crore, approximately $78.57 billion, according to the Union Budget. SpaceX raised the near-equivalent of that annual allocation in one day. The investors who participated were not buying into a rocket company. They were pricing control over satellite infrastructure, global internet access, launch capability, and an integrated AI platform at a level exceeding the GDP of most countries. Roughly 30 percent of the shares, worth approximately $22.5 billion, went to retail investors, three times the proportion typical of a US listing. India has no private entity in this category. What SpaceX actually controls Starlink, SpaceX’s satellite internet division, operated approximately 7,000 active satellites globally as of early 2026. It counts over nine million subscribers worldwide, and following a 2026 merger, SpaceX also owns xAI, the developer of the Grok AI system. A company that controls satellite connectivity, launch capacity, and a frontier AI model occupies a position no regulator has previously had to classify. It is not a telecom operator, not a defence contractor, and not a technology platform. It is all three at once, under common ownership. In June 2025, SpaceX received authorisation from India’s Department of Telecommunications, followed by a licence from IN-SPACe in July 2025. As of June 2026, Starlink’s commercial operations in India remain pending, with the company in active discussions with the Government of India on security clearances, a process slowed by concerns linked to Starlink terminal use in the Iran conflict. That delay is itself revealing. A foreign company’s service continuity in India depends on negotiations that India does not fully control. Satellite communications, launch systems, and AI-integrated data infrastructure are the functional equivalents of roads and electricity grids in a digital economy. States that built those grids in the twentieth century retained control over access, pricing, and service continuity. States that depend on foreign corporations for digital infrastructure in the twenty-first century do not. The dependence question is already live for India India’s digital public infrastructure, covering Aadhaar, UPI, and the Ayushman Bharat Digital Mission, processes billions of transactions monthly. Aadhaar covers nearly the entire adult population, and UPI carries the bulk of India’s retail digital payments. The system’s design is sound: public architecture, state-controlled data governance, open standards. The next connectivity layer is the problem. TRAI data shows rural internet penetration at 44.2 percent as of March 2024, with only 3.8 percent of rural households connected through high-speed fixed infrastructure. Approximately 630 million Indians remain offline, with primary barriers being awareness, affordability, and limited local-language content, according to the Kantar ICUBE 2024 survey. That gap will not close through terrestrial fibre rollout alone. Satellite broadband, through Starlink, Eutelsat OneWeb, or Amazon’s Project Kuiper, will carry a large share of that load over the next decade. None of these are Indian entities. Their pricing decisions, service continuity choices, and data routing practices sit outside Indian jurisdiction. A farmer in Chhattisgarh receiving crop advisory data through a satellite connection does not know that a pricing decision made in California affects whether that signal arrives tomorrow. She will notice only when it stops. Foreign private capital has built connectivity infrastructure in India before. Reliance Jio brought down mobile data costs after its 2016 launch, extending internet access to hundreds of millions of Indians who had not been able to afford it before. Jio’s rollout also created large-scale domestic employment in network maintenance, retail, and customer service, jobs that remain within India’s economy. Private investment in connectivity is not a threat to sovereignty. Structural Gap The difference with SpaceX is structural. Jio operates under Indian law, pays taxes in India, employs Indian engineers, and answers to Indian regulators when disputes arise. Its towers and fibre sit on Indian soil. Starlink’s constellation orbits at 550 kilometres, outside any single national jurisdiction. Under the Telecommunications Act 2023, existing Starlink operators in India continue under the legacy Unified Licence framework, with their licences remaining valid. But no Indian regulatory instrument contains a binding service continuity obligation for satellite operators. If Starlink suspends Indian operations, no domestic legal mechanism compels continuation or requires a managed transition for the users left without service. The $1.75 trillion valuation amplifies this structural gap. India’s external debt stood at $736.3 billion at end-March 2025, according to the Reserve Bank of India. SpaceX’s market valuation now exceeds India’s total external debt by a wide margin. A corporation at that scale does not face the same regulatory friction as a domestic operator. It does not need to negotiate from a position of dependence. India’s satellite communications framework, updated through the Indian Space Policy 2023 and the Telecommunications Act 2023, governs licensing and spectrum allocation in detail. It does not contain binding service continuity or exit-transition obligations for foreign satellite operators. That gap needs closing through explicit licence conditions before Starlink and its competitors reach commercial scale in India. India’s Semiconductor Mission has made genuine progress. Pilot production started in three plants in 2025, and the government confirmed that four plants commenced commercial production in 2026. Kaynes Semicon’s OSAT unit in Sanand reached commercial production in March 2026. India also inaugurated its first 3-nanometer chip design centres in Noida and Bengaluru in 2025, a step toward design capability even as fabrication capacity remains limited. These are real milestones, not announcements. They do not yet constitute a domestic supply chain for the advanced chips needed for satellite infrastructure, AI systems, or next-generation communications hardware. India’s domestic semiconductor market was approximately $45-50 billion in 2024-25, according to industry estimates cited by the Ministry of Electronics and Information Technology. Closing the gap between consumption and domestic production is a decade-long task requiring sustained capital commitment. India’s competition framework does not treat foreign satellite infrastructure concentration as a market power question. The Competition Commission of India has a clear mandate over domestic pricing and merger activity. It has no instrument to act when a foreign entity’s control over orbital infrastructure creates de facto monopoly conditions for remote connectivity within India. That regulatory gap needs explicit legislative attention before dependence deepens further. Market Signals SpaceX’s $1.75 trillion valuation is not a data point about one company. It is a market signal about what global capital considers most valuable in 2026: not oil fields or shipping lanes, but control over the systems through which economies communicate, compute, and transact. India entered the hydrocarbon era as a net importer and spent decades building the Strategic Petroleum Reserve and domestic refining capacity to reduce that dependence. The programme continues to expand today, a reminder that infrastructure sovereignty is an ongoing commitment. The response was slow and expensive. It was also the right call. The digital infrastructure era has well and truly arrived. India is already a net importer of the connectivity and computing systems that will define the next phase of its economic growth. The SpaceX IPO makes the scale of that dependence visible in a single number. And policymakers do not have decades to respond this time. (The writer is an independent public policy researcher. Views personal.)

NATO No More

Updated: Mar 3, 2025

While critics decry Trump’s reluctance to extend NATO’s protective umbrella over Ukraine, his approach may ultimately yield a more sustainable solution.

NATO

U.S. President Donald Trump has categorically ruled out offering U.S. security guarantees or NATO membership for Ukraine, instead emphasizing that European allies should bear primary responsibility for Kyiv’s defence. His remarks come as Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky prepares to visit Washington to finalize a deal involving the transfer of rare earth minerals, which are critical resources for U.S. technology and aerospace industries.


Trump’s stance, no surprise to any keen watcher by now, marks a departure from decades of U.S. policy, which saw NATO’s expansion steadily push eastward despite assurances given to Russia in the 1990s that the alliance would not move “one inch” beyond Germany’s borders.


Significantly, Trump alluded to that very promise when he said that the dangling of the NATO carrot before Ukraine had resulted in the current situation to begin with.


The roots of today’s crisis can be traced back to the immediate aftermath of the Cold War. As Germany reunified in 1990, U.S. Secretary of State James Baker assured Gorbachev that NATO would expand “not one inch eastward” beyond its existing borders. The understanding was that in exchange for allowing German reunification under NATO membership, the alliance would refrain from absorbing former Warsaw Pact states or Soviet republics. That promise, made to Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev during negotiations over German reunification, was quietly discarded. Over the years, successive American administrations welcomed former Warsaw Pact countries and even ex-Soviet republics into NATO, steadily eroding Moscow’s strategic buffer.


While Russia’s invasion of Ukraine is rightly condemned, it is undeniable that NATO’s enlargement has played a role in escalating tensions. The inclusion of countries like Poland, the Baltic states, and most recently Finland, touted as a move for stability, was perceived in Moscow as a direct security threat. Ukraine’s pursuit of NATO membership, strongly encouraged by the West, became the final red line for Vladimir Putin, providing the pretext for military action.


Now, instead of reflexively expanding U.S. security commitments, Trump is pressing European powers to take responsibility for regional stability, making clear that NATO’s European members should shoulder the burden of defending Ukraine.


His reluctance to commit the U.S. to formal security guarantees stands in contrast to the stance of his predecessor, Joe Biden, who supported Ukraine’s eventual NATO membership but without offering a clear timeline. This vague assurance arguably prolonged the conflict by giving Kyiv false hope while simultaneously aggravating Russia.


Crucially, Trump also appears to be making headway in diplomatic efforts with Moscow. He suggested that Russian President Vladimir Putin is now more open to compromise, having initially aimed to subjugate the entire country.


This war is more than a simple Russia-Ukraine conflict; it is the result of a geopolitical struggle rooted in the disintegration of the Soviet Union. As political scientist Paul D’Anieri argues in Ukraine and Russia: From Civilized Divorce to Uncivil War, Ukraine has been at the heart of Russia’s efforts to maintain influence over the post-Soviet space. Without Ukraine, Moscow’s ambitions to rebuild a sphere of influence crumble, making Kyiv’s westward drift an existential challenge for the Kremlin.


Compounding this is the issue of nuclear disarmament. As Yuriy Kostenko details in Ukraine’s Nuclear Disarmament, the 1994 Budapest Memorandum saw Ukraine surrender the third-largest nuclear arsenal in exchange for vague “assurances” of sovereignty. That agreement, brokered by the U.S., U.K. and Russia, offered no binding guarantees, leaving Ukraine vulnerable to Russian aggression decades later. The war has since reinforced scepticism about denuclearization, sending a clear message to countries like Iran and North Korea that giving up nuclear weapons without ironclad security guarantees is a strategic mistake.


By resisting the impulse to expand U.S. military commitments and prioritizing diplomacy, economic agreements and burden-sharing among European allies, Trump may be charting a course toward de-escalation. In doing so, he is challenging an entrenched U.S. foreign policy consensus that has too often ignored the long-term consequences of NATO expansion.

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