This article explores the degree to which some of the key crisis and warfare capabilities and capacities, namely ISR (Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance) are owned and operated privately, leaving the state – and the public – reliant on private actors in such critical situations as natural disasters or even war.
Whereas a clear dependency of a state on private actor(s) in some specific instances is demonstrated, showcasing existing vulnerabilities and risks connected with state’s critical incapacity to provide and use its own ISR capabilities, a potential rebound of a state to regain control over selected capabilities is presented. Namely, with essentially de-privatizing ISR capabilities through either state purchases and units, diversifying, maintaining collective capabilities (i.e., relying on with allies), or through contracts with one’s own Army Reserves.
Introduction
In 2024, the reality of how wars are waged seems to be rather unclear. Are we still in the era of “grand armies”, similar to the one of Napoleon Bonaparte, controlled fully by the (nation) states? Or did some of the current rulers forget, or perhaps dismissed Niccolo Machiavelli’s advice on how not to outsource capabilities and rely the privateers?2 This article aims to explore the degree to which selected key warfare capabilities are essentially private, leaving the state – and the public –reliant on a private actor in such critical situations as natural disasters or indeed, even (defensive) war and, thus, vulnerable.
The focus here is put on one set of key capabilities for defence, dubbed collectively as ISR – Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance. These include, for example, drones or satellites. We present a small case study of these capabilities being used in the current Russo-Ukrainian war (2022-) as well as how they are being deployed in the national armies of Slovakia in comparison to the Czech Republic. Whereas a clear dependency of a state on private actor(s) in some specific instances is demonstrated, a potential “rebound” of a state through various strategies to regain control over these capabilities is also presented.
When speaking about key capabilities and capacities needed for state’s effective, complex and comprehensive defence, consider first the example of Swedish private military and security company Vesper Group. It has for years been contracted by the government in Stockholm to protect Swedish personnel in Afghanistan. In 2021, during the fall of Kabul into Taliban hands, the Vesper Group was suddenly tasked with evacuating a large number of not only Swedes, but other Scandinavian citizens from there. A total of 2,144 people were rescued during an operation lasting 9 days.3
This case illustrates of how a nation state can become practically reliant – in crisis – on capacities and capabilities provided by the private company.
Another example of such critical capability is ISR (ISTAR if it also comprises target acquisition). In essence, these capabilities are used for coordinated and integrated acquisition, processing and provision of timely, accurate, relevant, coherent and assured data, information and intelligence to support conduct of a wide range of activities – be it protection of national borders, monitoring of all kinds of threats to individual and national security, effective management of a situation following some natural disaster, or, indeed, military operations. NATO, for instance, considers these capabilities to be „vital “, providing „foundation“ for all kinds of (military) operations.
It seems equally vital, therefore, to analyse if, and to what extent are individual states capable in their ISR capacities, such as satellites and drones.
Unravelling Satellite Dependency : The Role of Starlink in Ukraine and the Search for Alternatives
In the ongoing conflict with Russia, Ukraine’s reliance on Starlink, the satellite internet service provided by Elon Musk’s SpaceX private company, has become a critical component of its military operations. The integration of Starlink into Estonian-made THeMIS unmanned ground vehicles exemplifies this dependency. These vehicles, equipped with Starlink terminals, enable Ukrainian forces to operate remotely from thousands of kilometres away, ensuring real-time data transmission and command relay. Such capabilities are essential for maintaining battlefield effectiveness and adapting quickly to changing conditions.
Since the Russian invasion in 2022, SpaceX has rapidly deployed Starlink terminals to Ukraine, with tens of thousands in use as of 2024, including 500 provided by the U.S. Department of Defense. The high-speed connectivity provided by Starlink has been pivotal in maintaining internet access in war zones where existing infrastructure has been destroyed. Ukrainian digital minister Mykhailo Fedorov described Starlink as the “blood” of the country’s communication infrastructure, highlighting its integral role.
However, this heavy reliance on a single commercial entity for essential communication services poses significant risks. Elon Musk’s decisions have highlighted the precarious nature of Ukraine’s dependency. For instance, according to a biography by Walter Isaacson, Musk ordered Starlink to be turned off near the Crimean coast in September 2023 to thwart a Ukrainian drone attack on Russian warships. Although Musk denied the claim, the incident underscores the potential for service disruptions due to technical issues, cyber-attacks, or business and geopolitical considerations of SpaceX, presenting a serious vulnerability for Ukraine.
Recognizing these risks, Ukraine has been actively seeking alternatives to diversify its satellite communication infrastructure. However, the alternatives are also operated by private companies. One such promising alternative is the Swedish private company Satcube, which has already begun delivering its satellite internet terminals to Ukraine. These terminals, operating on the Intelsat (private) network, provide broadband access in areas where mobile and terrestrial networks are non-operational.
Other potential alternatives include companies such as Iridium (PT – publicly traded company), Globalstar (PT), OneWeb (parent company – Eutelsat Communications), SES (PH – publicly held), ORBCOMM (privately held), Eutelsat (PH), Telesat (PH), Inmarsat (privatised, now owned by Viasat, which is publicly traded), and Thuraya (private joint stock company). Each of these providers offers varying capabilities and coverage, contributing to a diversified communication infrastructure. Intelsat, with its extensive network of 56 geostationary satellites, and Eutelsat, planning to expand through a merger with OneWeb, are other viable options. Inmarsat, though it has changed ownership several times, owns its fleet of 14 geostationary satellites.
The search for alternative satellite communication tools reflects Ukraine’s strategic foresight in addressing its overreliance on Starlink. Diversifying satellite communication resources ensures operational continuity and enhances resilience against potential disruptions. This move is crucial not only for maintaining uninterrupted communication but also for ensuring that military operations, such as drone strikes in critical areas like Crimea, can proceed without unexpected hindrances. Yet, it also shows clear dependency in this crucial ISR capability on various private companies that can, and indeed most often do operate primarily on economic logic.
The fact that a commercial entity like SpaceX can directly influence large scale military operations highlights a much broader issue: the intersection of private sector interests and national security. Musk’s actions, whether driven by financial constraints, shifts in business policies and models, (geo)political considerations, or strategic decisions have direct implications on the ground in Ukraine. This dependency grants significant leverage to SpaceX and its stakeholders, which could be used in ways that are not always aligned with Ukraine’s national interests defined by its government.
The involvement of global satellite communication companies, coupled with financial and logistical support from allied nations, can help Ukraine build a robust and resilient network. The alternatives to Starlink that Ukraine is exploring include both, previously mentioned, private companies as well as public systems, with private entities driven by market forces and public systems influenced by governmental policies. While Ukraine aims to diversify its communication infrastructure to reduce dependency on Starlink, the practical replacement of Starlink remains a complex process due to considerations of reliability under conflict conditions, coverage, bandwidth, deployment speed, and integration challenges. Currently, Ukraine continues to heavily rely on Starlink for critical communication needs amid ongoing efforts to integrate other providers.
Answering a wake-up call: ISR capabilities in Slovakia in comparison to the Czech Republic
Short analysis of Slovakia, in comparison to the Czech Republic, also reveals certain dependencies and vulnerabilities, considering practical reliance on other public and private actors providing ISR capabilities (especially in the case of Slovakia), but also shows state authorities’ “pushback” against a long-term trend of “privatizing warfare” and of outsourcing such critical capabilities to the private sphere.
In the case of Slovakia, national ISR capabilities are practically non-existent, and the Slovak armed forces completely rely on allied, primarily commercial capabilities within EU and NATO.4 In other words, there are, for instance, no Slovak satellites that could be used for defence purposes and the information commercially sourced are usually, at the end of the day, from private companies. Slovak Armed Forces also have no drones at their disposal.
However, as of June 2024, the Slovak Armed Forces have expressed their desire to acquire at least partially such capability, and there is an ongoing negotiation with one large French company to supply some, yet undisclosed satellite technologies enabling more secure and integrated communication as well as some ISR capabilities. According to an ISR expert with an experience both from army and the private sector, who was interviewed for this analysis, there has long been a complete disinterest on the level of higher command of the Slovak Armed Forces in regard to ISR capabilities.
Such disinterest, combined with more general and wider atrophying of national armed forces across the West since the end of the Cold War resulting in relatively low budgets and constrained capacities, meant that there was no priority in de-commercializing and, in essence, de-privatizing these capabilities. In the interview it was also reported how such trends and conditions have gradually led to, in practice, state’s incapacity to conduct various tasks in-house, i.e., in the Ministry of Defence. Such tasks or capacities do not include only ISR, but also various logistical, support, or analytical capacities. It remains to be seen how the Armed Forces will be able to (re)integrate all the new and necessary capabilities under their direct control given still existing and prevalent constraints.5
In addition, there is no Slovak domestic capacity to develop and manufacture, in full, ISR capabilities, such as drones. There are production and assembly capacities, but are mainly focused on specific components, with the most critical ones – such as sensors, datalinks, optics, cameras or motors – sourced from abroad, often China.
When compared, the Czech case suggests a slightly different and more complex approach than the Slovak one. Firstly, it is reported that the Czech Ministry of Defence supports plans of domestically developing and producing four Hyperion satellites that would create a constellation dubbed Golem-X. A critical actor in this effort is the national Aerospace Research Centre. Interestingly enough, it was established in 1922 by the Ministry of Defence but is now a stock company, where, however, 100% of stocks are owned by the Czech Ministry of Finance.
There is also a unique – in contrast to Slovakia – separate Czech Army ISR centre functioning as part of the 53rd Army regiment. It is an independent unit composed of specific departments, tasked with key operational awareness and information acquisition and collection, all-source analysis, maintenance of databases with a diverse focus, and more.
More interestingly, Czech Army is planning to make use of its Active Reserve units for providing various ISR capabilities for domestic use. There is currently a legislation being prepared that would enable ex-military pilots6, mostly already on their retirement, to fly private small aircraft carrying uniquely designed ISR containers (so-called COTS-based IP ISR POD containers) for the Army. The main aim of the project is helping the Army units in primarily lower intensity crisis situations, such as monitoring the situation following a natural disaster, monitoring security of critical infrastructure and objects of special interest (e.g., nuclear power plants), or providing situational awareness enabling effective border control. Solutions designed and proposed to Czech Active Reserves have also warfare-relevant C4ISTAR capabilities (Command, Control, Communications, Computers, Intelligence, Surveillance, Target Acquisition and Reconnaissance). The idea is for the Army to contract its Active Reserve pilots to conduct above-mentioned activities, effectively maintaining state control over what is practically an outsourcing of an ISR/ISTAR capability.
Conclusions
This article focused ISR (Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance) capabilities and how they are being used in the current Russo-Ukrainian war (2022-) as well as how they are being deployed in the national armies of Slovakia, in comparison to the Czech Republic. The main question posed was if ISR are controlled and deployed by the state itself, or if they have been, in essence, “privatized,” leaving the state – and the public – reliant on private companies to provide these critical capabilities.
Whereas a clear dependency of a state on private actor(s) in some specific instances was demonstrated, a potential rebound of a state to regain control over selected capabilities was also presented.
Starlink has been indispensable for Ukraine, providing practically all critical communication infrastructure in the face of Russian aggression. The move towards finding and integrating alternative satellite communication systems is now considered a necessary step to ensure resilient and uninterrupted military operations and to enhance long-term national security in the face of ongoing (and future) threats. By engaging with multiple satellite communication providers both private and public (i.e., diversifying), Ukraine is already building a more robust and adaptable communication infrastructure, less vulnerable to external (purely private) influences and more capable of sustaining its military efforts in the challenging landscape of hybrid warfare. This approach not only strengthens Ukraine’s position in the current conflict but also sets a precedent for how nations can manage dependencies on critical technologies in future conflicts, namely through diversifying.
The case of Slovakia showed complete reliance on allied, often commercial ISR capabilities within EU and, primarily, NATO. In contrast, the case of Czech Republic offers a possible path forward for states that reflect on the missing capacities (lying in the hands of private companies) that can combine efficient and effective outsourcing with maintaining state’s control. Czech Active Reserves could be contracted by the Army to fly private airplanes and provide some critical ISR in selected cases.
This then, shows both existing vulnerabilities and risks connected with state’s critical incapacity to provide and use its own ISR capabilities and its reliance on other public as well as private actors, but also a case of possible ways forward – essentially de-privatizing ISR capabilities through either state purchases and units, diversifying, maintaining collective capabilities (with allies), or through contracts with one’s own Army Reserves. Moreover, it also points out nascent, often undeveloped regulations governing some new, specific private ISR activities whether we speak about drones or satellites. For instance, as a study done for the U.K. government shows, drones are often developed within an existing regulatory framework for manned aircraft which can indeed be ill-suited to the new technology and its capabilities. In the case of private satellites, other studies also call for clearer regulation as well as better cooperation between public and private actors in this sphere.
Paper supported within project APVV-21-0404 („Súkromné vojenské a bezpečnostné spoločnosti a dynamika zmien v bezpečnostnej politike Európskej Únie“)