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Whatever the fate of the Soviet craft, its launching on the eve of Apollo 11's lift-off underscored the fact that the controlling element in Soviet-U.S. space relations is still competition, not cooperation. Yet the question remains: With man now venturing to extraterrestrial bodies, how good are the chances for future joint efforts by the two superpowers? Said Lovell: "The time will come, within ten years, when considerable amounts of equipment will be left on the moon and lunar bases established, and international cooperation will become essential. Otherwise, a very serious situation might arise, both scientifically and politically."
Lovell's warning followed several recent suggestions, from Russians as well as Americans, for closer cooperation. Earlier in the week, NASA Administrator Thomas Paine had publicly voiced the hope "that the juxtaposition of two lunar missions in such a close time frame points out the desirability of close cooperation in space between the Soviet Union and the United States." During his recent tour of Russia, Apollo 8 Astronaut Frank Borman called for wider exchanges of scientific information and the joint tracking of satellites. He advocated a halt to "unnecessary duplication" in planetary exploration and suggested that when orbiting laboratories are lofted into space, they be manned with scientists from a number of different countries. A Soviet space scientist, Anatoly Blagonravov, has publicly conceded that there is duplication in U.S. and Russian space shots. "In the future," he predicts, "there is no doubt that space exploration will become a general task for all humanity and not only for individual countries."
Diplomatic Protocol
Actually, there has been some improvement in U.S.-Soviet space relations. The two countries regularly exchange weather-satellite data. They have signed a treaty for the safe return of any of their spacemen who inadvertently come down within the other nation's boundaries. But the competition remains intense. Moscow continues to maintain almost complete secrecy, never announcing launch dates or mission goals in advance, releasing precious little information during or after a mission, and never allowing an American to witness a launch.
For a brief time this month, as the Russians atypically heaped good wishes and praise on the forthcoming Apollo 11 flight, it appeared that a turning point had been reached in U.S.-Soviet space relations. Ambassador Anatoly Dobrynin even accepted a NASA invitation to witness the Apollo 11 launch at Cape Kennedy—the first Russian official to do so. Under normal diplomatic protocol, his attendance might have obligated the Russians to invite an American to a launch in the Soviet Union. But early last week, the Russian embassy in Washington revealed that Dobrynin would be out of the country at the time of the Apollo shot. It was still another indication that the Soviets will, for the time being, continue on their lonely and secretive path through space.