Politics of the Moon: Why the Philippines Signed the US-Led Artemis Accords

In late October 2025, the U.S. Embassy in Manila announced that both the Philippines and Malaysia “have committed to principles of safe and transparent space exploration by signing on to the Artemis Accords,” bringing the roster of signatories to 59.  

At first glance it might read as a technical sideline to lunar rockets and satellites. But beneath the surface lies a carefully calibrated exercise in soft-power projection and geopolitical signaling.

The Accord as Strategic Architecture

What the Artemis Accords represent is more than a set of guidelines. They are a U.S.-led diplomatic instrument for shaping the norms of operations in cislunar space (the space between Earth and the Moon) and beyond. According to a recent explainer, the Accords explicitly acknowledge that the leading space powers—Russia and China—have refused to sign, thus drawing a clear line between one governance bloc and another. 

In effect, Washington is saying: “If you join us, you accept our preferred rules of engagement in the lunar domain.” 

For smaller nations such as the Philippines, Malaysia, Indonesia and others in Southeast Asia, the choice to sign becomes a signal of alignment not only in science cooperation but in broader strategic orientation.

But that alignment carries consequences: it embeds those countries into a U.S.-centered space ecosystem: satellite standards, transport logistics, lunar-south-pole access stations, and data-sharing, among others. And in doing so, signatories implicitly align themselves with U.S. space-power ambitions.

Casting the Moon as a Geopolitical Theater

Ever since the Cold War, the Moon was no longer just a scientific frontier. It became a stage for new power projection. In his commentary, Neil deGrasse Tyson pointedly said, “I think we are in a little bit of a Moon race even if no one admits it publicly… China has met good on every one of their promises… So we should really take them seriously.”

And in another forum, he reminded:

“My read of the history of space exploration is such that we do big, expensive things only when it’s geopolitically expedient, such as we feel threatened by an enemy.”

Put plainly: the Artemis Accords can be read as a U.S. response to China’s lunar ambitions. China’s program, including its joint project with Russia the International Lunar Research Station or ILRS, signals Beijing’s intent not just to explore the moon, but to shape its infrastructure and governance, according to The Diplomat. The U.S., having led the earlier Apollo era, does not want that influence to wane.

But why should the Philippines care? 

The Philippines may not have a functioning rocket program or a lunar mission on standby, but it sits in a region that every major power now treats as the frontline of the new global order, from the South China Sea to low-Earth orbit. When the U.S. and China compete to write the rules of outer space, the smaller states that sign, abstain, or align are all choosing their place in that hierarchy.

Joining the Artemis Accords, then, is not about sending Filipino astronauts to the Moon. It’s about signaling which world we belong to when the next frontier gets carved up.

Space exploration today drives the same technologies that underpin communications, mapping, weather prediction, and cybersecurity. Every satellite in orbit feeds into terrestrial power: data sovereignty, disaster resilience, climate monitoring. And the Philippines—vulnerable to typhoons, reliant on foreign data, and digitally dependent—has every reason to stake a seat, however small, in that technological ecosystem. 

Soft Power, Institutional Leverage and the Governance Gap

It’s here that the Accords’ dimension of soft power emerges. Through the framework, the U.S. offers: partner access, shared data, workshop and station opportunities, but under rules shaped in Washington. 

For the Philippines, this underscores a broader point: signing such frameworks is not simply technical. It embeds the country into an institutional ecosystem whose rules and institutions will shape future access, norms, station-building, and perhaps even mining rights or scientific payload partnerships. It is part of the “second outer space race,” one of standards, alliances and infrastructure rather than just rockets and flags. 

The Artemis Accords are not simply about the moon. They are about leadership, infrastructure, alliance architecture, and the subtle assertion of a preferred order in the next frontier. In that sense, the United States is projecting soft power and governance muscle all at once.

As Tyson reminded us, it is not pure curiosity driving nations to the moon, but geopolitics: “We are in a little bit of a moon race…” 

For the Philippines, joining the Accords is a strategic decision. The question is not whether it will turn that decision into concrete capability, or whether it is merely a badge of association. When lunar traffic and domain-control matter, you must also be able to influence how the rules are written.