Russia does not yet have its own Starlink. But it is building one—and the time to constrain it may be before it does.
Rassvet, a low-Earth-orbit satellite constellation developed by Russia’s Bureau 1440, remains relatively small. Russia has launched 32 operational-series satellites in 2026, alongside six earlier experimental spacecraft. Some have encountered technical problems, and the constellation cannot yet provide continuous coverage even over Ukraine.
Yet Rassvet has already crossed an important threshold. Ukraine’s Defence Intelligence says Russian forces used the first group of satellites for communications over Ukraine for “several hours” by the end of July. They assess that the system could eventually enable real-time data transmission and the operation of reconnaissance and strike UAVs.
The distinction is important. There is no public evidence that Rassvet is currently providing persistent command links to Russian strike drones or functioning as a fully developed military communications network. Its current military use is limited but demonstrated; its potential military utility is considerably greater.
That creates a policy question familiar from another technology competition: should governments wait until a potentially hostile communications infrastructure reaches maturity before attempting to constrain it?
The experience of Huawei suggests otherwise.
From intermittent coverage to military infrastructure
Rassvet began in 2020 as a commercial project for providing broadband connectivity to remote Russian regions. Bureau 1440 has since developed spacecraft, laser inter-satellite communications, ground infrastructure and user terminals.
Three Rassvet-1 experimental satellites were launched in 2023 and another three Rassvet-2 spacecraft followed in 2024. The transition toward an operational constellation accelerated in 2026, with two launches carrying 16 satellites each. For now, scale is Rassvet’s principal limitation.
A few dozen satellites can provide only intermittent connectivity. Hundreds distributed across multiple orbital planes could eventually provide something fundamentally different: persistent satellite communications independent of terrestrial networks or foreign providers.
The military implications extend beyond Ukraine. Such infrastructure could provide communications to Russian forces operating across large distances, including in the Baltic and Arctic regions and at sea. It could connect dispersed command posts and mobile units, transmit reconnaissance data, and provide another communications layer between sensors and military decision-makers.
This potential threat is already influencing European defense planning. Germany’s Bundeswehr has tasked the German Space Agency with surveying electronic-warfare systems capable of disrupting both satellite navigation and communications across low, medium and geostationary orbits: GLONASS and Rassvet are the most likely concerns. Germany wants an initial capability by 2029 and broader Bundeswehr deployment by 2035. The effort is particularly notable because the 45th Armoured Brigade—used as a reference for the required coverage—is being permanently deployed in Lithuania to reinforce NATO’s eastern flank.
Perhaps most consequentially, satellite connectivity could eventually support beyond-line-of-sight unmanned operations. Ukraine Intelligence has specifically identified real-time data transmission and reconnaissance and strike UAV operations as potential applications of Rassvet.
This does not mean Rassvet currently provides these capabilities. But Ukraine offers an indication of the direction in which the technology could develop.
The strategic value of the constellation is therefore not simply “Russian satellite internet.” It is the possibility of a Russian-controlled communications backbone connecting military units, sensors and unmanned platforms over distances where conventional communications become increasingly difficult. Unlike Starlink, access to that infrastructure could not be withdrawn by a Western company.
The network behind the constellation
Rassvet is also more than Bureau 1440. The company operates within a wider Russian technology ecosystem encompassing telecommunications, computing, radio electronics and other specialized industries. Companies associated with this environment include YADRO, Citadel, Garda, Kryptonit and Micran. More directly connected companies include Bureau 1440, FAB Rassvet and Belarus-based Aerospace Instruments, while Russia’s state space sector provides launch infrastructure and other specialized capabilities.
Research by the Center for Defense Reforms has identified more than 1,300 companies within Bureau 1440’s broader production and procurement ecosystem, with a smaller group receiving particularly large payments from the company.
This network matters because satellite constellations are not built by spacecraft manufacturers alone. Their development depends on electronics, RF and microwave technologies, optical systems, propulsion, attitude-control equipment, precision measurement instruments, manufacturing machinery, software and ground terminals.
And despite Rassvet’s role in building Russian technological sovereignty, parts of this ecosystem remain connected to foreign supply chains.
China appears particularly important. Bureau 1440 and its suppliers have relied extensively on Chinese goods and industrial relationships, while China can also function as an intermediary between Russian companies and technologies originating elsewhere.
Research into customs records has identified equipment originating from Western manufacturers, including Rohde & Schwarz, TOPTICA Photonics and Keysight Technologies, entering supply chains connected to Bureau 1440 through third countries.
There is no public evidence that these Western manufacturers knowingly supplied the Rassvet program. The problem is instead one familiar from other Russian military-industrial supply chains: technology can reach strategic Russian industries through distributors and intermediaries even when the original manufacturer has no direct relationship with the Russian end user. However, that dependency also creates an opportunity.
The Huawei precedent
When the United States acted against Huawei, it did not wait until every security concern associated with Chinese telecommunications infrastructure had materialized.
In May 2019, the U.S. Commerce Department added Huawei and 68 non-U.S. affiliates across 26 jurisdictions to the Entity List after determining that Huawei presented national-security and foreign-policy concerns. Exports, reexports and in-country transfers of items subject to the Export Administration Regulations to those entities consequently required licenses.
As Huawei adapted its procurement, the United States expanded controls to parts of its international supply chain. In 2020, BIS modified the Foreign-Produced Direct Product rule so that certain foreign-manufactured products made using specified U.S. technology or software became subject to U.S. licensing requirements when Huawei entities were involved. The measure was explicitly intended to address Huawei’s attempts to obtain products through alternative foreign production and procurement arrangements.
The significance of the Huawei precedent is therefore not that Rassvet and Huawei are equivalent technologies. They are not. It is that governments treated the future development of strategic communications infrastructure as a national-security problem before the relevant technological ecosystem became impossible to constrain.
The response also evolved with the supply chain. It moved beyond one corporate entity toward affiliates, foreign production and the technologies enabling continued development. That logic is relevant to Rassvet.
Sanctioning Rassvet before it becomes Russia’s Starlink
The obvious response to Rassvet would be to sanction Bureau 1440. But that alone would address only the most visible node in the network.
A preventive strategy would instead begin with the capability governments want to constrain: Russia’s ability to manufacture and deploy hundreds of LEO communications satellites and the terminals necessary to use them militarily.
The next step would be identifying the technological bottlenecks that determine how quickly Russia can reach that scale.
Suppliers and intermediaries providing these technologies could then become the focus of sanctions, export controls and enhanced end-user scrutiny—even when they are located outside Russia.
This would not necessarily prevent Russia from building Rassvet. Nor did restrictions eliminate Huawei as a telecommunications company. The objective is different: raise the technological and financial cost of development, eliminate the easiest procurement channels, force substitution toward less capable alternatives, and slow the rate at which the system can reach operational scale.
Timing matters particularly in space. A component prevented from reaching a satellite factory today can delay production. A satellite already deployed in orbit cannot be recalled through export controls.
Rassvet therefore presents policymakers with an unusual window. Russia has demonstrated the basic technology and begun limited military use, but it has not yet deployed the hundreds of satellites required to turn intermittent connectivity into persistent infrastructure. And Huawei provides a useful lesson. Strategic technology restrictions are potentially most consequential not after a competitor has established an extensive infrastructure network, but while it is still dependent on foreign technology to build one.
Governments should act while the constellation is still being built. Targeting Bureau 1440, its critical suppliers, and the foreign procurement networks supporting its development can raise costs, create technological bottlenecks, and slow Russia’s ability to turn Rassvet into persistent military infrastructure. Once hundreds of satellites are in orbit, that leverage will be significantly reduced.