821: TROUBLESOME LINES: INDIA’S BORDER CHALLENGES

Introduced the topic to the young audience.

 

India occupies a position that no other major power currently shares. It faces two nuclear-armed neighbours simultaneously, both with active and unresolved territorial disputes, and both with a demonstrated history of military and strategic collusion against Indian interests. 

Geographically Challenging Reality. The geographic scope alone establishes why this is a problem unlike any other facing a major power today. Roughly 3,488 kilometres of the undemarcated Line of Actual Control with Tibet runs through Ladakh, the Middle Sector, and Arunachal Pradesh. A further 3,323 kilometres face Pakistan on the Western Front, comprising the 740-kilometre Line of Control in Kashmir and the International Border extending into Punjab, Rajasthan, and Gujarat, including the Sir Creek sector. These two frontiers could not be more dissimilar in terrain or character. The LAC runs through some of the most inhospitable high-altitude terrain on earth, including glaciated passes, oxygen-starved ridgelines, and winter temperatures that fall below minus forty.  In these places, infrastructure development and troop acclimatisation themselves become strategic assets in ways that few other borders in the world require.

 

Troublesome Lines. The geopolitical landscape of the Indian subcontinent is defined by several critical borders and lines of control, born from colonial legacy, fast-moving historical crises, and shifting tactical realities.

 

 India-Pakistan Borders

The Radcliffe Line. Drawn in 1947 by Sir Cyril Radcliffe, Chairman of the Boundary Commissions, to partition British India into India and Pakistan. It originally demarcated the international borders on both flanks of India: the Western Front (with what is now Pakistan) across Punjab, Rajasthan, and Gujarat, and the eastern front (with East Pakistan, now Bangladesh). It remains the legally recognised International Border (IB) between the three sovereign nations.

Line of Control (LoC). Originating as the Ceasefire Line (CFL) following the 1947–48 Indo-Pak War, it was formally designated and renamed as the Line of Control under the Shimla Agreement of 1972. Spanning roughly 740 km, it cuts through the disputed region of Jammu and Kashmir. A de facto military control line, not an international boundary. It terminates northwards at grid coordinate NJ9842, leaving the treacherous terrain beyond it undemarcated at the time.

Actual Ground Position Line (AGPL). Established following India’s pre-emptive deployment in Operation Meghdoot (1984) to secure the heights of the Siachen Glacier. Extending roughly 110 km from grid coordinate NJ9842 to the Indira Col, it tracks the ridgeline of the Saltoro Range. It delineates the current military positions of Indian and Pakistani troops, with India holding the dominant high-ground features of the glacier.

 Sir Creek.  A long-standing maritime and marshland dispute over a 96 km strip of water in the Rann of Kutch marshlands between Gujarat and Sindh.  The disagreement hinges on the interpretation of early 20th-century resolutions. Pakistan claims the eastern bank of the creek, while India advocates for the Thalweg Principle, an international law standard that places the boundary along the centerline of the deep-water navigable channel. An undemarcated maritime boundary affects the determination of each country’s Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ) in the Arabian Sea.

 

India-China Borders

The McMahon Line. Negotiated by Sir Henry McMahon at the Simla Convention of 1914 between Great Britain and Tibet. It forms the legal boundary of the Eastern Sector, running along the highest crest of the Himalayas to separate northeastern India (Arunachal Pradesh) from Tibet. India recognises it as the official International Border. China rejects its legality, claiming that Tibet lacked the treaty-making sovereignty to sign the convention, and labels the region “South Tibet.”

Line of Actual Control (LAC). Context: A concept first introduced by Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai in 1959, which crystallised on the ground following the 1962 Sino-Indian War. The LAC is split into three main operational sectors. In the Western Sector, it separates Ladakh from Aksai Chin (which is under illegal Chinese occupation). In the Middle Sector, it borders Uttarakhand and Himachal Pradesh. In the Eastern Sector, it runs roughly parallel to the McMahon Line. Unlike the LoC with Pakistan, the LAC is not mutually agreed upon on a map, leading to overlapping perceptions of where the line actually lies. These differing perceptions frequently cause localised standoffs during patrols.

Historical Lines in the Western Sector (Ladakh/Aksai Chin). To understand the historical friction over Aksai Chin, two colonial-era lines are key:

    • Johnson-Ardagh Line (1865). Proposed by civil servant W.H. Johnson and later supported by Major John Ardagh, this boundary placed Aksai Chin firmly within the princely state of Jammu and Kashmir. This remains the basis for India’s official territorial claim.
    • Macartney-MacDonald Line (1899). A subsequent, more conservative compromise was proposed by Britain to China, which placed Aksai Chin under Chinese sovereignty to create a buffer against Russian expansion. China has neither formally accepted nor rejected it, but it aligns closely with the modern LAC in the region.

Pakistan: The Asymmetric and Proxy-Driven Challenge

Pakistan’s strategic posture toward India has remained doctrinally consistent for decades. An inability to compete conventionally is compensated for through asymmetric and sub-conventional means. Resorting to terrorism, proxy warfare, and increasingly, information operations. The roots of the dispute lie in the unresolved status of Jammu and Kashmir since Partition. The relationship has produced four major conflicts: in 1947–48, 1965, 1971, and the Kargil War of 1999, alongside decades of cross-border terrorism that include the 2001 Parliament attack, the 2008 Mumbai attacks, the 2019 Pulwama attack (followed by Balakot Strike), and the 2025 Phalgam attack, resulting in Operation Sindoor.

Pakistan’s conventional weakness, taken in isolation, would argue for a steady erosion of its capacity to threaten India over time. What arrests that natural erosion is Chinese material support, which keeps Pakistan’s conventional and technological edge artificially current. The supply of fighter aircraft, frigates, air defence systems and weapons from China, combined with deep intelligence cooperation between the two states, ensures that even a fiscally constrained Pakistani military remains a credible threat. Any assessment of Pakistani military capability that ignores this Chinese subsidy will systematically underestimate the actual threat that Pakistan poses and misjudge the trajectory of that threat over time.

China: The Long-Horizon Salami Slicer

China presents a fundamentally different kind of strategic problem. It is not asymmetric and proxy-driven as Pakistan’s challenge is. It is pursuing a long-horizon strategy of incremental territorial assertion along the Line of Actual Control. An approach commonly termed salami slicing. Where Pakistan’s challenge is measured in months and operational cycles, China’s is measured in years and even decades. A road built today, a village established this year, and a patrol pattern normalised over eighteen months are the actual instruments of Chinese strategy on the LAC. These steps are individually deniable and internationally ambiguous. However, the cumulative effect of each is a shift in ground realities in China’s favour, that too, without triggering the threshold of response that a direct military incursion would invite.

The dispute with China dates to the 1962 war. It remains concentrated in two principal sectors: the Western Sector, where China controls Aksai Chin, and the Eastern Sector, where China claims roughly 90,000 square kilometres of Arunachal Pradesh as South Tibet. China periodically renames locations across Arunachal Pradesh on its official maps. It is a low-cost, high-visibility instrument of psychological and legal pressure that incurs no military cost but is designed to normalise its claims in the international record over time. India’s consistent and unwavering rejection of these renaming exercises matters precisely because silence on this point would itself be read as acquiescence.

The 2017 Doklam standoff and the 2020 Galwan Valley clash marked a genuine inflexion point in how India approaches this frontier. It was the first fatal clash on this border since 1975. For the first time in decades, India faced a sustained, high-altitude, multi-divisional military confrontation requiring permanent infrastructure and force posture changes, not simply diplomatic management. Galwan in particular forced a strategic reassessment that had been deferred for too long. Tens of thousands of troops were moved into forward positions on both sides, defence expenditure on the northern front rose sharply, and India’s force posture shifted from a largely defensive, protocol-based approach to one that explicitly anticipates contestation as the normal state of affairs along this border. The subsequent restoration of patrolling arrangements in certain friction areas is a welcome development. However, it is not a return to the earlier state. On both sides, forward infrastructure has been consolidated, force levels have been increased, and the earlier frameworks of mutual restraint have been revised.

Infrastructure. India has made substantial progress in border infrastructure development over the past decade. Roads, tunnels, forward airfields, and logistics nodes that were absent or inadequate in 2020 are now being built at a pace that would have seemed implausible a decade ago. The Atal Tunnel, the under-construction Zojila Tunnel, the doubling of road connectivity to Daulat Beg Oldi, and the expansion of advanced landing grounds across the northeast represent a genuine shift in the strategic geography of the LAC. That shift, however, must be assessed honestly against China’s own head start. China has spent two decades building a dense network of military-grade roads, railheads, and forward logistics infrastructure on its side of the LAC, an investment with no peacetime equivalent in the Indian inventory until recently. The gap has narrowed, while India is addressing the reach, China has moved ahead and is concentrating on speed.  Closing the gap entirely will require sustained financial and institutional commitment over the coming decade, rather than at the current pace.

Water. China’s upstream dam-building on the Brahmaputra (Yarlung Tsangpo) on the Tibetan plateau adds a further dimension that is strategically underweighted in most public discussion. Beijing’s plans for a mega-dam in the Great Bend region, which would dwarf any hydroelectric project currently in existence, give China potential leverage over downstream water security for tens of millions of Indians in Assam and the wider northeastern region. This is the one area where China can exercise pressure on India without a single soldier crossing the LAC. The water dimension does not require a military response. Still, it does require a diplomatic, legal, and technical one. India needs to build the institutional infrastructure needed to contest this front.

Beyond Borders. China’s broader regional behaviour indicates its intent along the LAC. A power pursuing expansive maritime claims in the South China Sea, sustained pressure on Taiwan, and a growing naval presence in the Indian Ocean Region is unlikely to treat its territorial claims against India as a special exception to an otherwise more restrained posture. Chinese naval activity in the Indian Ocean includes port access and influence in Sri Lanka, Pakistan’s Gwadar, and Djibouti, as well as surveillance vessels transiting near Indian waters during sensitive periods. It demonstrates that China’s challenge to India is not confined to the Himalayan land border. The continental and maritime dimensions of Chinese pressure are connected in Beijing’s strategic calculus, even if they are frequently disaggregated in Indian policy discourse.

The Collusive Threat

The concept of the collusive threat is not theoretical for India. It has been a planning reality that has shaped Indian military doctrine for over a decade, and recent years have only sharpened its relevance. The China-Pakistan Economic Corridor is more than an infrastructure project. It is a strategic binding mechanism, locking Chinese economic interests into Pakistani territorial integrity and giving Beijing a material stake in Pakistan’s capacity to sustain pressure on India. Chinese technology transfer across multiple domains (space, cyber, missile, and nuclear) has progressively elevated Pakistani capabilities beyond what Pakistan’s own defence industrial base could sustain. The relationship is not an alliance of equals. Still, there is a genuine strategic convergence on the India question, and India would be imprudent to assume it will fracture under pressure at the moment it matters most.

The practical implication for Indian force planning is that the two-front scenario cannot be treated as a planning contingency to be modelled and set aside. It must dictate the structure, positioning, and readiness of Indian forces in peacetime. Tackling the collusive threat demands a high degree of integration and a multi-domain, multi-front approach. The Air Force’s squadron strength, currently running at approximately thirty to thirty-three operational squadrons against a sanctioned strength of forty-two, represents the most acute capability gap in this picture. Air power is the one domain in which India can project decisive force across both frontiers simultaneously, and the attrition of that capability below sanctioned levels is a strategic liability that cannot be deferred indefinitely without consequence.

The Cognitive Front

National resilience against information warfare and internal fragmentation deserves a priority equal to physical border security. Both China and Pakistan have invested significantly in the capacity to target India’s internal coherence. They resort to disinformation, the manufacture of communal tension, manipulation of social media narratives, and support for disruptive domestic actors. This is a cognitive front without a physical reference, and for that reason, it is chronically underweighted in strategic planning that still thinks primarily in terms of territory and platforms. A nation that can be persuaded to doubt its own institutions, distrust its own armed forces, or is fractured along internal lines requires no physical invasion to be strategically weakened. India’s internal cohesion is itself a strategic asset, and its erosion is itself a strategic objective for its adversaries.

The architecture required to protect that cohesion is different from the architecture required to defend a physical border. It involves media literacy, institutional credibility, civil-military trust, and a political culture that does not amplify adversarial narratives for domestic advantage. These are not, by any means, the concerns of a defence establishment, but they fall within any serious conception of national security in an era when information is as operationally significant as firepower.

Strategic Clarity as the Foundation of Security

India’s strategic challenge is structurally unique. No other democracy faces two nuclear-armed, territorially revisionist neighbours who are themselves in a relationship of active strategic convergence. Managing that challenge requires sustained investment across every domain, including physical infrastructure, military capability, intelligence, technology, and the resilience of the national fabric itself. It requires a doctrine that treats the China-Pakistan axis as a single, integrated problem rather than two parallel files. And it requires an institutional culture willing to speak honestly about gaps, timelines, and risks, rather than resolving uncomfortable assessments into premature reassurance.

Operation Sindoor offered a data point, not a verdict. It demonstrated operational proficiency under one set of conditions. The conditions under which India will next be tested will not be chosen by India, and they may not be as manageable as those of May 2025. The margin for complacency is precisely zero. Strategic clarity, sustained effort, and institutional honesty are not optional features of a credible security posture. They are its foundation.

 

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Information and data included in the blog are for educational & non-commercial purposes only and have been carefully adapted, excerpted, or edited from reliable and accurate sources. All copyrighted material belongs to the respective owners and is provided only for wider dissemination.

 

 

References

Hussain, M., Ramzan, H., & Singh, S. (2024). China–Pakistan Economic Corridor and its impact on India.  SAGE Journals. https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/09749284241285121

Pitlo, L. B. (2022, May 26). China-Pakistan Economic Corridor and India’s responses.  China US Focus. https://www.chinausfocus.com/finance-economy/china-pakistan-economic-corridor-and-indias-responses

The Soufan Center. (2025, April 25). China’s growing security footprint in Pakistan  [IntelBrief]. https://thesoufancenter.org/intelbrief-2025-april-25/

Centre for the Study of Drone and Robotics. (2024, October). The road to Galwan: Crisis at the Line of Actual Control and China’s motivations [Strategic report].

https://csdronline.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/SR_The-Road-to-Galwan_CSDR_Oct2024-1.pdf

Markey, D. (2022, December). Another clash on the India-China border underscores the risks of militarisation.  United States Institute of Peace. https://www.usip.org/publications/2022/12/another-clash-india-china-border-underscores-risks-militarization

Seligman, L., & Gramer, R. (2023, March). India-China border tensions and U.S. strategy in the Indo-Pacific  [Report]. Center for a New American Security. https://www.cnas.org/publications/reports/india-china-border-tensions-and-u-s-strategy-in-the-indo-pacific

Watts, J. (2025). China’s mega-dam project poses significant risks to Asia’s Grand Canyon.  Yale Environment 360.

https://e360.yale.edu/features/china-tibet-yarlung-tsangpo-dam-india-water

Centre for Aerospace Power Studies. (2025, July). Operation Sindoor: Rewriting the India-Pakistan rulebook  [National Defence Paper No. 13]. https://capssindia.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/12/NDP-13-Operation-Sindoor.pdf

Kashyap, S. (2025, June 2). Operation Sindoor and the evolution of India’s counter-terrorism strategy.  Observer Research Foundation. https://www.orfonline.org/expert-speak/operation-sindoor-and-the-evolution-of-india-s-counter-terrorism-strategy

Observer Research Foundation. (2024, September 20). The multiple travails of the IAF: India’s fighter strength depletion.  https://www.orfonline.org/expert-speak/the-multiple-travails-of-the-iaf-india-s-fighter-strength-depletion

Parliamentary Standing Committee on Defence, Government of India. (2024, December 17).  Report on Indian Air Force combat fleet strength [Parliamentary panel report].

Manohar Parrikar Institute for Defence Studies and Analyses. (2020).  India’s China challenge: A fifty-year perspective [Monograph series]. MP-IDSA. https://www.idsa.in

820: ARTEMIS II AND THE SECOND SPACE RACE FOR THE LUNAR RESOURCES

 

Article published in the jun 26 edition of the News Analytics Magazine

 

On April 1, 2026, the Space Launch System ignited at Launch Pad 39B at Kennedy Space Centre and punched the Orion spacecraft into a clear Florida sky. Onboard were Commander Reid Wiseman, Pilot Victor Glover, Mission Specialist Christina Koch, and Canadian Space Agency astronaut Jeremy Hansen. Ten days and 1.4 million kilometres later, having looped around the far side of the Moon on a free-return trajectory and broken the distance record set by Apollo 13, they splashed down in the Pacific off San Diego. Artemis II was complete.

It is humanity’s first crewed journey to the vicinity of the Moon in more than fifty years. It was also the first test of Orion’s life-support systems with humans aboard in deep space. The Orion capsule’s computers ran 20,000 times faster than those used during Apollo, while the European Service Module, built by ESA, provided propulsion, power, water, and oxygen throughout. The Space Launch System, generating roughly 15 per cent more thrust than the Saturn V, performed without issue. Technicians were already beginning work on the hardware for Artemis III before the recovery ships reached the crew.

But the mission’s significance goes far beyond the engineering feat. Artemis II is a move in a geopolitical contest. The stakes are much higher than Apollo’s. The second space race has started, and this time the prize is not prestige alone.

From Apollo to Artemis. The first space race was about ideology. The United States claimed a symbolic victory over the Soviet Union when Neil Armstrong stepped onto the Moon in July 1969. Then the urgency collapsed for several reasons. These included budget constraints, a shift toward the Space Shuttle and low-Earth orbit, and the thawing of the Cold War. The pace became a domain of cautious cooperation, culminating in the International Space Station. Even that era is over now. The Artemis programme, announced in 2017, has revived lunar ambition on entirely different terms.  The Artemis Program is built around a sustained presence and a plan to use the Moon as a proving ground for Mars.

Racing Blocs. The geopolitical architecture of the second space race is hardening into two distinct coalitions.

 

    • The American-led bloc is around the Artemis Accords. It has now been signed by 61 nations, establishing principles for transparency, interoperability, and the legality of resource extraction under existing international law. The partners include Canada, ESA member states, Japan, the UK, Australia, and the UAE.

 

    • China’s answer is the International Lunar Research Station, co-founded with Russia in 2021. Russia has become a junior partner in a China-led programme. China has recruited 13 countries to the ILRS framework, including Pakistan, Belarus, South Africa, and Venezuela, and is aggressively expanding that list through a “5-5-5” initiative. The initiative aims to enrol 50 nations, 500 institutions, and 5,000 researchers in lunar science by the early 2030s. Beijing is offering low-interest loans for ground stations, technology transfer guarantees and payload slots on Chinese missions.
    • India occupies the middle ground. India has signed the Artemis Accords while simultaneously building indigenous capability. While joining the Accord, India is not a direct participant in the NASA-led Artemis Programme’s mission-driven hardware development, but rather a partner in its guiding principles. By joining, India aligns with international principles for space exploration. These include transparency, interoperability, and the peaceful use of space resources. The agreement fosters strengthening space cooperation between the Indian Space Research Organisation (ISRO) and NASA.

South Pole: Ground Zero for the Next Space Race. Every major programme (Artemis, the Chinese Lunar Exploration Program, and Chandrayaan) targets the same narrow strip of terrain. The reason is water ice, preserved for billions of years in permanently shadowed craters at temperatures around -173°C. Through electrolysis, that ice can be split into hydrogen and oxygen (which are useful for rocket propulsion). A reliable South Pole water supply could turn the Moon into what planners call a gas station in the sky. There is also helium-3 stock, deposited by solar wind over billions of years. It is estimated at around one million tonnes across the lunar surface. Helium-3 holds promise as a fuel for aneutronic fusion reactions that produce far less radioactive waste than conventional fission. The South Pole’s value is as much strategic as it is geological. Both Artemis and the ILRS are fixated on the same area.

US Increasing the Pace. The Artemis programme, announced in 2017, is built around a sustained presence around the moon. Artemis II was the crewed proof of concept for that ecosystem. Artemis III will test lunar landing equipment in Earth orbit in 2027. Artemis IV, carrying the first crew actually to land at the South Pole, is targeted for 2028. Each member of the accord is contributing hardware or expertise (Canada’s Canadarm3 for the Gateway, ESA’s service modules, and Japan’s logistics). The programme also integrates the private industry. SpaceX holds the Artemis IV lander contract, and Blue Origin holds the Artemis V contract. Intuitive Machines and Firefly Aerospace are conducting robotic precursor missions under NASA’s Commercial Lunar Payload Services programme.

China Maintaining the Momentum. In roughly two decades, the China National Space Administration has gone from launching its first taikonaut in 2003 to landing a rover on the lunar far side, returning samples from the surface, operating its own space station, and sending a rover to Mars. The Chang’e programme has been methodical: Chang’e-4 became the first mission to soft-land on the far side in 2019; Chang’e-5 returned near-side samples in 2020; Chang’e-6 brought back far-side samples in 2024,  the first time that had been done. Chang’e-7, scheduled for late 2026, will survey the south pole for water ice. Chang’e-8, in 2028, will test in situ source utilisation. China is targeting a crewed landing by 2030. The crewed mission will adopt a dual-launch architecture. The Long March 10 rocket will carry the Mengzhou spacecraft, which will carry three taikonauts. Another one will deliver the Lanyue lander. The two vehicles will rendezvous in lunar orbit. Two crew members will descend to the surface while a third remains above. The ILRS envisions a permanent facility near the Lunar South Pole being built and operationalised in three phases—reconnaissance through 2025, construction from 2026 to 2035, and full utilisation from 2036.

Indian Effort. India’s space programme has, in a short span, moved from ambition to achievement. In August 2023, Chandrayaan-3’s soft landing near the lunar south pole was a landmark moment. No nation had touched down on that terrain before. The feat placed the Indian Space Research Organisation in a category, until then occupied only by the United States, the Soviet Union, and China, in terms of demonstrated lunar landing capability. The follow-up mission, Chandrayaan-4, targets the MM-4 site on Mons Mouton at nearly 84 degrees south latitude. The return mission planned for 2028  will push India’s indigenous capability further still.

The Stakes. The Apollo contest was primarily a demonstration of ideological and technological superiority. The Artemis contest is about infrastructure and norms. Leadership in space is not symbolic. It shapes standards, partnerships and long-term strategic influence. Whoever builds the first permanent presence at the South Pole gains the standing to set the terms for everyone who follows.  These include docking interfaces, communication protocols, and resource-extraction norms. The United States set them for the internet. China is making a methodical bid for the lunar space. The stakes are much higher than in the 1960s race. The logic is simple. Resources are needed to sustain presence, but presence is needed to access resources. What matters is who reaches first.

 

What Next. The Artemis programme is moving, but so is China’s IRLS. The ILRS coalition continues to add members. Artemis II proved the hardware works with people inside. The Orion heat shield held, the SLS performed, and the European Service Module delivered. Work on Artemis III and IV is already underway. On the other hand, China’s Chang’e-7 is planned for launch later in 2026 to map resources at the South Pole. The Long March 10 crewed vehicle is approaching its maiden flight. The window to set multilateral governance frameworks before the first permanent infrastructure goes into the ground is closing.

 

The Moon that humanity walked away from after Apollo 17 in December 1972 is returning to the centre of global attention. This time, not as a destination for brief visits but as a domain to be occupied, developed, and contested. The second space race is not a metaphor or a rhetorical convenience. It is a structural feature of twenty-first-century great-power competition. The race, playing out at a quarter-million miles, is just warming up.

 

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References and credits

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Disclaimer:

Information and data included in the blog are for educational & non-commercial purposes only and have been carefully adapted, excerpted, or edited from reliable and accurate sources. All copyrighted material belongs to the respective owners and is provided only for wider dissemination.

 

 

References: –

  1. NASA, “Artemis II: First crewed Orion & SLS flight test”, 2026. https://www.nasa.gov/mission/artemis-ii
  1. NASA, “NASA’s plan for sustained lunar exploration and development”, 2017. https://www.nasa.gov/artemis
  1. NASA, “The Artemis Accords”, 2020. https://www.nasa.gov/artemis-accords
  1. China National Space Administration, “China and Russia sign a MoU to construct the International Lunar Research Station”, CNSA, 2021. http://www.cnsa.gov.cn
  1. China Manned Space Agency, “Long March 10 and crewed lunar mission architecture”, 2026. http://www.cmse.gov.cn
  1. Jones A, “Chang’e-6 returns first samples from the Moon’s far side”, Space News, 25 Jun 2024. https://spacenews.com
  1. Indian Space Research Organisation, “Chandrayaan-3 mission: Successful soft landing on lunar south pole”, 2023. https://www.isro.gov.in/Chandrayaan3
  1. Indian Space Research Organisation, “Chandrayaan-4: Site selection for sample return at Mons Mouton”, Apr 2026.  https://www.isro.gov.in
  1. Ministry of External Affairs, GOI, “Joint statement from the United States and India: A partnership for the 21st century”, 2023. https://www.mea.gov.in
  1. Lowy Institute, “Artemis II and the geopolitics of the second space race”, Apr 2026. https://www.lowyinstitute.org

819: STRATEGIC COST OF INCREMENTAL MILITARY MODERNISATION

 

Article published in the June 26 edition of the “Life of Soldier” Journal.

 

 

 

India stands at a strategic crossroads. The security environment around the country is becoming more volatile and technologically complex. China has transformed itself into a technologically advanced military power with integrated command structures, space capabilities, cyber warfare assets, and a rapidly expanding naval presence in the Indian Ocean. Pakistan continues to rely on asymmetric warfare while modernising selective military capabilities with external assistance. Beyond conventional threats, the future battlefield is increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence, autonomous systems, electronic warfare, drones, cyber-attacks, and information operations.

India’s approach to defence modernisation has been phased. Each of the previous wars (1962, 1965, 1971, and the Kargil war) has triggered reactive reforms and acquisitions. In future wars, India may not have time to correct deficiencies once the conflict begins. The prevailing environment necessitates military modernisation. Delay can result in strategic vulnerability. The real question is whether India can continue with incrementalism. The danger is the widening gap between the speed of emerging threats and the pace of Indian military adaptation.

 

Threats and Challenges

Warfare is shifting towards integrated domains. India will face a multidimensional threat landscape in future.  China’s military is undergoing a most consequential transformation over the last few decades. It is not simply acquiring more equipment, but fundamentally restructuring its doctrine, organisation, and technological base to fight and win multi-domain, network-centric conflicts at speed. Over the past few decades, Beijing has invested systematically in long-term capability building. It has reorganised command structures, accelerated indigenous defence production, invested heavily in modern technology, and created military civil fusion mechanisms.  The People’s Liberation Army is no longer merely a manpower heavy force. It is evolving into a networked military capable of coordinated operations across all domains. Besides the China challenge, India faces persistent tensions with Pakistan and growing maritime competition in the Indian Ocean Region.

For India, the challenge is further compounded by its geography and terrain. The country must prepare for high-altitude warfare in the Himalayas and maritime security in the Indian Ocean.  It also has to deal with the urban counterterrorism within its borders. Future conflict scenarios may involve simultaneous pressure along land borders, cyberattacks on critical infrastructure, disinformation campaigns, and economic coercion.

 

Slow Procurement Cycles

Incremental Military Modernisation. Incremental modernisation generally focuses on replacing legacy systems rather than redesigning military capability for future warfare. Buying a few squadrons of aircraft or upgrading selected artillery units cannot substitute for integrated transformation.  Incrementalism is not inherently wrong when resources are constrained, and industrial maturity is modest. However, it ceases to be prudent when it becomes a permanent default setting that systematically defers the harder choices. India must therefore recognise that procurement reform is not merely an administrative issue. It is a strategic imperative.

Indian Procurement System. One of the most persistent problems in India’s defence preparedness has been the prolonged procurement cycle. India’s procurement system has emerged from legitimate concerns over transparency, accountability, and financial scrutiny. Defence acquisition in India moves through the tedious process of approvals, technical evaluations, trials, negotiations, financial clearances, and bureaucratic reviews. It takes years or sometimes even decades. Fear of allegations, audit pressures, and political controversy has often discouraged timely decision-making. Bureaucratic caution has become embedded within the acquisition culture.

Strategic Consequences. Slow procurement cycles have strategic consequences: –

    •  Deterrence Weakening. Adversaries assess not only a nation’s current capabilities but also the speed at which it can adapt and replenish its military power. A country perceived as institutionally slow may invite coercive pressure.
    •  Cost Escalation. Deferred decisions result in increased costs due to Inflation and the need for technological upgrades. The evolving operational requirements further raise the acquisition costs over time. Resorting to emergency purchases is expensive.
    • Doctrinal Gaps. As long as procurement and force‑structure decisions move slowly, doctrinal thinking tends to lag behind technology. New concepts such as multi‑domain operations, joint convergence, and effects‑based targeting remain aspirational rather than institutionalised.
    • Loss of Confidence. Acquisition delays undermine confidence in indigenous systems. Services become reluctant to rely on them due to repeated delays. This creates a situation in which imports remain attractive and appear more capable and reliable.

 

Non-negotiable Imperatives.

Speedy Decision-Making as a Strategic Capability. Modern warfare rewards nations that can make decisions quickly under uncertainty. Strategic agility has become as important as military strength itself. Decision-making speed has a major impact on national security. It has a direct bearing on how quickly and efficiently threats are identified, forces mobilised, technologies integrated, and crises managed. India’s democratic process involves consultation, institutional checks, and political consensus-building. The challenge lies in ensuring that these processes do not become obstacles to strategic responsiveness. The issue is not merely about making faster purchases. It is about cultivating a strategic culture that is proactive, anticipates future challenges, and accepts calculated risk.

Indigenous Capability and Strategic Autonomy. The key to strategic autonomy is the building of indigenous capability. A country that depends on imports for critical defence systems is vulnerable in conflict. Relying on imports of parts, ammunition, sensors, or systems limits flexibility in a crisis. Recent global events have demonstrated that supply chains can be easily disrupted by geopolitical tensions, sanctions, or competing national priorities.

Self-reliance Challenge. The self-reliance challenge is very much both institutional and technological.  Institutionally, indigenous capability requires continuity of investment, realistic timelines, collaborative development, and stable operational requirements. The armed forces prioritise capability enhancement as they cannot compromise on operational readiness.  On the other hand, the industry requires sustained orders and predictable policy frameworks to build a long-term production plan. The challenge is to balance these imperatives.

Phased Capability Development. Abandoning indigenous development in favour of imports perpetuates dependence. At the same time, the minimum deterrence value cannot be compromised. The solution lies in phased capability development. Imports may be necessary in selected areas to fill in the urgent gaps. However, every foreign acquisition should strengthen domestic ecosystems through technology partnerships, local manufacturing, research collaboration, and supply chain development.

 

Recommendations.

Several priorities stand out: –

    • Speed needs to be embedded into the DNA of decision‑making. The approach of “risk‑avoidance‑through‑inaction” should be replaced by the culture of “action‑with‑risk”. National security decision-making requires deeper integration of technological expertise, geopolitical analysis, and long-term planning.
    • Procurement process must be re‑engineered for continuous capability enhancement flow rather than episodic projects. Instead of treating each acquisition as a discrete event, India should move toward a “production‑readiness” model, in which the industrial ecosystem is treated as a continuous provider of enhancements and variants.
    • Procurement systems must become faster, more transparent, and technologically adaptive. Acquisition processes should support iterative upgrades and modular capability development.
    • A more coherent indigenous‑capability strategy must be crafted. Accepting that not every system can be built domestically, prioritising critical technologies that underpin strategic autonomy, and investing heavily in test, evaluation, and certification infrastructure so that indigenous systems mature faster. It also means accepting that some indigenous platforms will initially under‑perform and planning for iterative upgrades rather than expecting a single “game‑changer” project to solve the problem.
    • Defence industrial policy must prioritise the creation of an effective ecosystem. Private industry, start-ups, academic institutions, and public-sector organisations must operate within integrated innovation frameworks.
    • Modernisation should be aligned with the actual threat environment. Military planning should focus on jointness and cross-domain integration.
    • India must invest consistently in emerging technologies. The countries that innovate faster, adapt quicker, and integrate technology more effectively will dominate future warfare.
    • Strategic ambitions require support from the budgetary allocations. Fiscal constraints will always exist. They need to be offset by smart spending, through prioritisation, indigenisation dividends, and public-private partnership models. Roll-over of multi-year funding commitments reduces uncertainty and enables production planning.

 

Concluding Thoughts

The cost of the military modernisation delay can’t be calculated solely from the percentage of ‘legacy’ equipment. It is characterised by a reduction in deterrence value, strategic options, operational readiness, and technological opportunities. Incremental modernisation may be viable in more sedate and favourable strategic conditions. It is unfeasible in the rapidly changing geopolitical environment and the speedy development of military technologies.

India cannot afford strategic complacency. The challenge before India is to modernise faster while building indigenous capabilities. India has the intellectual talent, industrial potential, and operational experience to achieve it. The question is not whether India can afford incremental modernisation, but whether it can afford the consequences of allowing strategic delays.

 

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Information and data included in the blog are for educational & non-commercial purposes only and have been carefully adapted, excerpted, or edited from reliable and accurate sources. All copyrighted material belongs to the respective owners and is provided only for wider dissemination.

 

 

References

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Dahiya, R., & Behuria, A. K. (Eds.). (2012). “India’s neighbourhood: Challenges in the next two decades”. Institute for Defence Studies and Analyses.

Government of India, Ministry of Defence. (2023). “Defence acquisition procedure 2020 (amended)”. Department of Military Affairs.

Gupta, A. (2019). “Building an arsenal: The evolution of regional power force structures”. Praeger.

Kapila, S. (2021). India’s defence modernisation: Structural constraints and strategic imperatives. Journal of Defence Studies.

Khosla, A. (2024, November). “India’s aerospace modernisation: Challenges and imperatives”. Air Marshal’s Perspective. https://55nda.com/blogs/anil-khosla

Ladwig, W. C. (2020). “Indian military modernisation and conventional deterrence in South Asia”. Journal of Strategic Studies.

Sawhney, P., & Wahab, G. (2014). “Dragon on our doorstep: Managing China through military power”. Aleph Book Company.

Tatsumi, Y., & Weston, J. (2019). “Conventional deterrence in the second nuclear age”. Stimson Center.

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