The First Setback: The ESC Meeting on November 4, 1970
In his report back to the ESC early in November, Lefevre began with a very positive account of the gathering in Washington, and with an enthusiastic endorsement of the technological novelty of the post-Apollo system and of the United States’ “desire to internationalize the conquest of space, for the benefit of humanity as a whole.”94 He spelt out clearly the shift in US policy on launchers—from a case-by-case decision to a (near) blanket assurance—and stressed that it was conditional on Europe making a substantial contribution to the American-led program. And he emphasized that, in the event of a negative finding in Intelsat, even if the United States were reluctant to go against an internationally-sanctioned decision, it might still “exercise its freedom of decision” on whether to accede to Europe’s request for a launch. This did not bother Lefevre unduly. He put a positive light on the launcher issue, emphasizing that “Europe will have a large availability of American launching devices” even if a few “uncertainties” needed ironing out. He was satisfied that enough progress had been made in Washington for Europe to enter “the negotiation phase proper” in a program that would “give a new dimension to European efforts and a greater responsibility vis-a-vis international cooperation.” In July, said Lefevre, there had been general agreement in the ESC that telecommunications satellites and the means to launch them should provide the backbone to a European space effort run through a single agency. Residual doubts on this program should now be put aside. After today, he concluded with determination, “[w]e must know exactly which countries are willing to continue and organize a joint effort, meaningful and reasonable, so that Europe will efficiently participate in the development of space techniques with the twofold purpose of promoting technological progress and keeping its cultural and political independence. [. . .] The time has come to act.”
Lefevre’s hope of pulling the collected ministers together behind a unified policy was soon shattered. The British led the opposition. They had already voiced two concerns in the meeting held on September 16-17. First, they hoped that participant countries would be granted “full access to, and unrestricted use of, all know-how, design rights, etc generated by any part of the post-Apollo program” (my emphasis).95 This idea had been killed at once. The United Kingdom had simply not come to terms with the asymmetry in the partnership, nor with the implications “of the obvious preponderance of U. S. investment and use,” which undermined any “credible basis” for the level of sharing that the British hoped for.96 Second, Britain was extremely reluctant to make a “substantial” contribution to a program whose content and cost was still not defined. In September Johnson’s reply reflected the difficulty NASA was having in getting Congress to support Paine’s original program.97 This ambiguity was picked up by the new British minister of aviation supply, Freddy Corfield. Corfield had taken up his post in September 1970 after the Conservative Party ousted Harold Wilson’s Labour government at the general election in June. As he put it, “There have been considerable changes in the form of the proposal since it was first suggested and at the present moment there is no specific programme approved by the American government. The timescale is uncertain and the cost estimates and incidence of expenditure remain to be clarified.”98 The new British government was engaged in a comprehensive review of public expenditure. It could not accept “a commitment to share the costs of 10% participation [in post-Apollo], running to as yet unquantifiable but probably very large sums of money, and this in a context of a project too loosely defined to enable any assessment to be made of the benefits in relation to resources involved.” Nor was this necessary to secure US launchers for applications satellites, in Corfield’s view. He said that 10 percent participation may be needed for blanket assurances. But the United Kingdom did not seek them. The British government was persuaded that, as in the past, “for all purposes for which Europe is likely to require launchers, we can expect to be able to rely on a reasonable American response.”99
Corfield’s opposition was given added traction by the Gaullist minister for industrial development and scientific research, Fran^ois-Xavier Ortoli, who put a different twist on the uncertain situation across the Atlantic.100 Whatever the costs of post-Apollo—and current estimates were likely to escalate—a 10 percent European share would probably far exceed the costs of developing a European launcher. In return the benefits were dubious: the US guarantees for launchers were not watertight, and access to technology was too restricted. On balance, therefore, it was cheaper and more advantageous technologically and industrially for Europe to go it alone.
The discussions were finally suspended at 2 AM in the morning of November 5, a day earlier than anticipated. Belgium, France, and Germany agreed to pursue the possibilities of post-Apollo collaboration with the United States and invited others who were interested to join in the next round of discussions.101
These negative reactions to Washington’s proposals infuriated Frutkin. Already at a meeting in Florence organized by Eurospace (an industry lobby group) in September 1970, he had emphasized the obvious—that “it would be extremely unrealistic to assume that there would be total access to the technology of the programme, at the know-how level, if the U. S. is contributing 90% and Europe 10%.”102 “Equal” partnership (Ortoli) or “full access” (Bessborough) were inconceivable granted that asymmetry in commitment. As for the fluid state of the post-Apollo program, in Florence both he and Dale Myers confidently asserted that the post-Apollo program would be adopted, and stressed that the advantage of its content not being settled was that the Europeans could participate in the definition phase, so helping structure its shape in line with their interests.103 Instead of approaching post-Apollo collaboration in this spirit, Frutkin wrote Low, the meeting in November was conducted “with high emotion and political pre-judgment, with little reference to the available facts which should determine European interests, and with persistent unrealism on trade-off possibilities, conditions, risks and benefits.”104
Domestically Frutkin did try to turn one complaint made in November to NASA’s advantage. A few days after the abortive ESC meeting he wrote to Robert Behr of the National Security Council to tell him of Britain’s reluctance to commit to post-Apollo participation “because of the uncertainty of the US commitment to the space shuttle and to continuity in our major programs.”105 He added, somewhat menacingly, that “[w]e would have to be prepared, in the event we do not move the shuttle forward, to find Europeans concluding that we provide a very poor foundation for international enterprises and that we have seriously delayed and diverted their own regional programs, perhaps deliberately.”106 A few days later he met with Johnson and Pollack in the State Department to discuss the NASA budget for FY1972 and the “need for a clear and credible signal to the Europeans that the United States is moving ahead with the space shuttle program.”107 This in turn led to both State Department officials drafting memoranda for Kissinger affirming that while the post-Apollo program did not stand or fall by virtue of international participation, it was imperative to offer Europeans an “assured alternative” if the United States expected them “to forego independence.”108 Johnson’s memorandum was particularly explicit about what was at stake: the benefit of European know-how, a contribution of about $1 billion, national security concerns (“there are obvious advantages to having the Europeans as partners in the United States program, as compared to their developing a separate and independent space launching capability over which we might have little or no influence”), and political considerations (success in post-Apollo would promote intra-European cooperation and further major scientific and technological projects; it would also strengthen the capability of Washington’s NATO allies and of the alliance).109
These arguments amplified an appeal made by Low to Kissinger at the end of October, and reinforced by him after the ESC meeting early in November. NASA’s acting administrator explained that the agency was now willing to defer a start on the space station in favor of the shuttle. This was not only because the shuttle was “the correct next major step in the United States space program.” It was also because “a go-ahead on the space shuttle, in FY1972, is of crucial importance in relation to the possibilities for very substantial international contributions to and participation in our major space undertakings of the future.”110 Another round of interdepartmental discussions was held, and the need for clear directives from the top was emphasized if European support was not to drain away.111 On January 4, 1971, the national security adviser replied to Low indicating that no definite policy directive could be expected at this time.112 NASA’s final budget resubmitted to Congress for FY1972 was slightly below that of FY1971. It would take another year before the president eventually endorsed the space shuttle.113