On April 1, Artemis II began its 10-day journey around the Moon, marking the first manned lunar mission by the U.S. since Apollo 17 fifty-three years ago. In celebration, President Trump proclaimed, “We are WINNING … Nobody comes close! America doesn’t just compete, we DOMINATE.” Despite initiating the Artemis missions during his first term, President Trump proposed a $5.6 billion cut to NASA’s 2027 budget three days later. This cut, along with billions of dollars cut from other agencies, comes along with the biggest ever proposed increase in the military’s budget, no doubt in preparation for escalation in Iran (and God forbid, elsewhere in the world as well). How should we feel when scientific achievement flies the same flag as war and suffering?
America’s first venture into space and onto the Moon came during the Space Race of the 1960s. During the height of the Cold War, the USSR and the U.S. pushed the boundaries of science as they tried to outdo one another. Each milestone raised the stakes: First, a satellite in space, then an animal, then a man, and finally a woman. The pressure was on. The U.S. had to outdo the Soviets or the race was lost. Every Soviet mission into space was seen as an affront to the values of democracy, capitalism, and freedom. Soon, NASA set its sights on the Moon with the proposed Apollo missions. However, before any Apollo mission launched, three astronauts were killed in training. But the program pressed on. Apollo 7 launched the following year, sending the first Americans into space. The grand finale of the Space Race came less than a year later when the Apollo 11 mission landed Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin on the moon. An estimated one-sixth of the world’s population watched on TV. The cosmonauts may have carved their legacy in history, but it is the American flag, no matter how sun-bleached, that is planted on the surface of the moon.
Running parallel to this moment of national triumph were the ugly sides of America in the ‘60s: segregation and the Vietnam War.
With most operations taking place in Southern states, due to the need for launch sites to be close to the equator for optimal launch trajectory, NASA dealt intimately with the ugly realities of racial segregation during the 1960s. As highlighted by the 2017 film “Hidden Figures,” key components of the mathematical calculations behind NASA’s missions were completed by Black women, often in segregated offices. Bathrooms, dining halls, and water fountains were segregated and Black workers often went unacknowledged and without raises compared to their white counterparts. The Black female workers of West Area Computers were also paid far less than their male counterparts. Just days before the launch of the famous Apollo 11 that landed man on the Moon, Civil Rights protesters gathered around Kennedy Space Center, carrying signs with slogans such as, “$12 a day to feed an astronaut. We could feed a starving child for $8.” An estimated $25.8 billion was spent on the Apollo missions, equivalent to more than $250 billion now, while over 9.5 million children lived below the poverty line in America by the end of the missions.
President John F. Kennedy made it clear that the U.S. had to beat the Soviets to the Moon. This mission would serve as a definitive show of technological might and a demonstration of the triumph of democracy and capitalism over communism. This same urge to demonstrate the righteousness of global democracy over communism served as the driving force behind the disastrous American involvement in Vietnam. As the Apollo missions pushed further and further into space, the U.S. was pulled deeper and deeper into Vietnam. The American military dropped an estimated 388,000 tons of napalm on Vietnam between 1963 and 1973. Throughout the entire war, over 3 million Vietnamese soldiers and civilians on both sides were killed.
The “N” in NASA stood for a nation that, at the same time it reached for the moon, chose war over its own people. How can Americans feel pride about the achievements of that nation, on Earth or on the Moon?
Today, we are met with the same conflict.
In celebration of the safe landing of Artemis II, the White House posted a series of images of the mission overlaid with the words “AMERICAN EXCEPTIONALISM.” Simultaneously, the U.S. has inserted itself into another foreign conflict. When the flag circling the Moon on Artemis II is the same flag on the plane dropping missiles on Iranian schoolchildren, it’s difficult to ignore the implications of “AMERICAN EXCEPTIONALISM.” America is somehow an exception to the rules and boundaries that dictate the rest of the world, both in warfare and in scientific achievement. This is also without mentioning how deeply intertwined NASA and the broader aerospace industry are with the military-industrial complex. Boeing, Lockheed Martin, and Northrop Grumman all took part in the construction of Artemis II.
The Artemis missions also serve another political purpose for the U.S.: beating China. It is explicitly stated, with almost none of the finesse in the ideological framing of the Space Race. In the 2026 budget request to NASA, the administration states that NASA should be focused “on beating China back to the Moon and on putting the first human on Mars.”
There is a certain hesitancy and pessimism that carries through progressive movements when it comes to celebrating technological advancements and scientific achievements. And that is often for good reason. Technology and innovation, no matter how altruistic in intent, in the hands of certain corporate and government interests, mutate from an innovation for the people to an innovation against the people. Medical innovations become capital for pharmaceutical companies, artificial intelligence is used to optimize warfare, and space exploration becomes political theatre.
It is reasonable to assess the Artemis II missions through a pessimistic lens, given the previous history. Whether it be the havoc wreaked by the current administration or the perpetual international reputation of American interventionism and hypocrisy, it is difficult for people, American or not, to celebrate anything tethered to this nation. However, it is important to remember that scientific achievement belongs to all of humanity and holds no inherent nationality. To be hypercritical of the achievements of Artemis II is to overlook the full story and the positive possibilities it represents.
Despite its flaws, NASA’s presence in the South has also brought along progress, as it gave the Kennedy and Johnson administrations an opportunity to forcibly integrate, creating thousands of jobs for African Americans. Before the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Apollo 11 mission, NASA recruited talented Black scientists and engineers and created cooperative education programs with historically Black colleges. This was not an easy environment for the Black workers who were still subjected to segregation and racism. However, despite the harsh environment, Black NASA employees persevered in their work. Engineer George Bourda stated, “We were determined and we had the ability to strive.” Eight of his family members went on to become engineers. “I’m proud to be the first one… The kids, they saw what I did and they copied”.
In the present day, NASA also contributes to progressive causes. Orbiting spacecraft monitor and gather data for climate change research. Technology developed by NASA contributes to sustainable and clean energy development. NASA also serves as a positive tool of American diplomacy, aiding massively in international collaborative efforts such as the International Space Station.
It is difficult to separate the achievements of NASA from the actions of the U.S. in the face of war. Because, in the end, the manufacturers of dishwashers and fridges also make tanks and missiles. The connection that everything has to the military is the fundamental rot of American society and is a problem infinitely larger than NASA. It is an unavoidable reality of daily life. But retaining pride in NASA’s achievements does not equate to a celebration of U.S. military actions, not any more than the use of a Honeywell fridge or a flight on a Boeing plane.
Paradoxical to his proposed anti-China agenda, the Trump administration has requested a decrease in NASA’s budget for the second year in a row. Allowing President Trump to weave the success of Artemis II into their narrative of war gives the administration unearned credit from the work of thousands of Americans it has actively worked to defund. It is completely possible to sever ties created between war and scientific innovation and to celebrate the achievements of NASA while being critical of an American war. In fact, it is pertinent that we did sever these ties. If the nation could celebrate the Moon landing and protest the Vietnam War at the same time, then it can celebrate the Artemis II mission and protest the war in Iran. The original Apollo missions came at a critical point in American history. The assassinations of both Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy in 1968 cast the nation into a period of uncertainty and darkness. The Tet Offensive in Vietnam that same year caused the American public to become even more critical of the war as President Johnson committed more troops to Vietnam. Protests and riots spread across the U.S. throughout the year. However, on Christmas Eve, Apollo 8 orbited the Moon, marking the first American victory in the Space Race. This moment united America and the world in an extreme period of darkness. Apollo 8 astronaut Frank Borman recounted, “We got millions of telegrams after we landed, but the one I remember most was, ‘Congratulations to the crew of Apollo 8. You saved 1968.’ We didn’t save it [ourselves] — but a lot of the people who made Apollo work saved it.” The following year, Apollo 11 landed men on the Moon. In the same way, the Artemis missions also come to us at a critical point in American history. This current moment, also marked by civil conflict and international war, is one of great American disunity. A historical low of 58 percent of Americans remain proud to be American. However, during the Artemis II missions, Reuters found 80 percent of Americans, across the political spectrum, to be holding favorable views of NASA. As the current administration attacks diversity as “reverse discrimination,” pilot Victor Glover, who became the first Black astronaut, and mission specialist Christina Koch’s contributions to the mission are especially incredible and worthy of celebration. In the face of darkness and disunity, space grants the opportunity to celebrate hope.
There is something so deeply romantic about space exploration. It’s the realization of childhood dreams and the product of a lifetime of work. Astronauts are pushing the boundaries of science, literally going to where no human has gone before. Yet, the most profound reflections and the most famous images are produced looking back at Earth. Space exploration grants us the ability to look down at Earth as a whole, the absolute sum of all human history and life, surrounded in an inky black void, with no borders or boundaries. Aboard the Apollo 8 mission, the astronauts chose to read the first ten verses of Genesis from the Bible. The verses recount the creation of Earth and the cosmos, starting with, “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” A billion people, one in four on Earth, listened to the reading. At the start of Artemis II’s journey back to Earth, astronaut Christina Koch said, “We will explore… We will visit again. We will construct science outposts. We will drive rovers … We will inspire. But ultimately, we will always choose Earth. We will always choose each other.”
It is important to remember that the “we” that Koch refers to is not Americans, but all of mankind. America’s advancement into space will outlive America. The achievements of the USSR have already outlived the country. In its present context, these missions are political diversions, convenient distractions away from war, and geopolitical flexing. But we must not cede scientific advancement to the narratives of politicking.
These space missions will outlive warfare. The hope and ambitions of humanity, however, will persevere. That is worth having pride in. This is not a demand to forget the context in which the Artemis missions take place, just as we have not forgotten the Civil Rights movement and the Vietnam War alongside the Apollo missions. History did not demand cynicism for its complexity. This is an ask to carry hope for better days ahead and to remember to choose Earth.
Featured Image Source: NASA