The IndiGo crisis has been splashed across headlines over the last few days, with more than 1.2 lakh passengers suffering delays, cancellations, and spiralling fares—budget travel reduced to a daily ordeal. This was not inevitable. With foresight and deft execution by all parties—the airline, the Directorate General Civil Aviation (DGCA), and the other statutory agencies—it could have been avoided. But foresight was in short supply.
IndiGo, despite its reputation for planning and a board stacked with marquee names—Mr Vikram Mehta (ex-Chairman Brookings India), Ms Pallavi Shroff (Shardul Amarchand Mangaldas & Co), Mr Rahul Bhatia (MD), Air Chief Marshal BS Dhanoa (former Air Chief), M. Damodaran (former SEBI Chairman), and Amitabh Kant (former CEO NITI Aayog)—misread the winds. Believing it could negotiate some slack, the airline gambled on regulatory leniency. The new rules struck harder than expected, eroding margins and goodwill. Time to prepare was squandered, and passengers as well as investors now pay the price.
At the heart of this debacle lies not just airline missteps but also the culpability of the DGCA—an authority neither staffed adequately nor given the muscle to enforce its writ. Its reactive stance, compounded by government apathy, allowed systemic cracks to widen until they finally demanded new rules on crew duty hours and rest norms.
Implementation delays will ironically give rivals like SpiceJet and Air India breathing space, but the industry as a whole faces turbulence. Crew costs are set to rise sharply next year, pushing ticket prices higher. IndiGo’s brand, once synonymous with reliability, has taken a hit, and the stock’s 10% slide in just five days may only be the beginning of a long journey southward.
To cut a long story short, this episode will have lasting consequences for budget travel, for consumers, and for IndiGo itself—unless the government finally addresses the elephant in the room: the crushing taxes on aviation fuel, which account for nearly 40% of airline operating costs. Perhaps, in disguise, this crisis forces the hand of policymakers to bring ATF under GST at 12–18%. If that happens, it may yet turn out to be the only silver lining. And as usual, we may live up to our reputation of needing a (good) crisis to reform.
Cheers, happy investing and flying (though the latter remains more of a hope for now)!
About the Author
Brigadier KGK Nair (Retired) is an Indian Army Veteran from the Regiment of Artillery. He is the Founder, Fidillery Advisors.
India has a fighter aircraft problem — we simply do not have enough of them. The Indian Air Force (IAF) is authorised to operate 42 squadrons but today fields barely around 29 effective squadrons, many composed of Jaguars, MiG-29s and Mirage-2000s nearing retirement. If theatre commands are implemented — redistributing aircraft across independent theatres — internal assessments suggest the requirement could rise to ~ 55 squadrons. Whether one accepts the upper figure or not, the conclusion is inescapable: India needs a dramatic expansion in combat aircraft strength.
From today’s depleted strength, the IAF needs not only around 26 squadrons to reach 55, but also replacements for around 10–12 squadrons of legacy platforms. That implies a requirement exceeding 35–38 squadrons over the next decade — larger than the current IAF fleet itself. Even reaching sanctioned strength would require inductions equal to the size of today’s combat force. Put simply, India is running a fighter deficit of strategic proportions.
India’s indigenous fighter journey, though visionary, was handicapped by two structural realities.
1. A steep technological climb
We attempted to leap from an HF-24 era knowledge base to building a modern multi-role fighter. The Light Combat Aircraft (later christened Tejas) was initially conceived as a simple MiG-21 replacement — cheap, light and easy to manufacture. Over time the goalpost shifted to a highly capable 4+/4.5th-generation platform with world-class avionics, fly-by-wire (FBW), radar, electronic warfare, and weapons-integration capabilities. Specifications increased, but the research and development capability had to be built from scratch — every failure, delay and learning curve had to be paid for in time — exacerbated by the fact that the main development was done by government agencies.
Compounding delays, the 1998 nuclear tests triggered technology sanctions. Foreign consultants — including Lockheed Martin, who assisted ADA in validating LCA’s flight-control system — had to disengage due to U.S. restrictions after Pokhran-II. This forced India to develop all critical FBW technologies independently. A deepening commitment to indigenisation followed — culminating in today’s Atmanirbharta drive.
Our greatest shortfall was propulsion. The Kaveri engine, though a technological milestone, never matured to Tejas-use power levels. We relied on the American F-404 for Tejas and now the F-414 for the prospective Tejas Mk-2, Twin Engine Deck-based Fighter and Advanced Medium Combat Aircraft Mk-1 — both critical choke points. Delivery schedules will determine how fast we can build aircraft, and it is uncertain whether supply will match our needs. Even though GE has agreed to joint-production of F-414 in India, export controls and delivery timelines remain a strategic vulnerability. A future indigenous 110–120 kN engine is essential for real autonomy and scale. A recent agreement with Safran for development of a 110-120 kN engine, with full transfer of technology and production-cum-export rights, is a step in the right direction.
It has to recognised that if engine deliveries lag or sanctions return, our entire combat-fleet modernisation could slow, or even halt. The long-term solution must be a Kaveri-derivative capable of replacing the F-404 and later competing with the F-414.
Foreign acquisition – poor outcomes, slow pace
In four decades, we have inducted only two squadrons of Rafales and a handful of replacement Su-30MKIs. The MMRCA processes dragged on without result. Rafale is excellent, but expensive. Some contract elements remain pending, and most critically, France will not share mission-computer source codes or deep ToT, ensuring dependence for weapons integration through the aircraft’s life-cycle, a situation incompatible with India’s thrust for indigenisation. Production slots are full, meaning delivery for additional orders would take close to a decade. Rafale thus becomes a capability enhancer over time, but not a fleet builder.
Why the Su-57 deserves consideration
Russia offers the Su-57 — a 5th-generation stealth fighter. It may not match the F-22/F-35 in all metrics, but for India it offers several advantages:
It is a 5th-generation stealth aircraft bringing completely new capabilities to the IAF, unlike 4.5th-generation alternatives.
Full production/ToT offers are reportedly on table.
We already operate Su-30s, easing training, logistics and maintenance integration.
HAL’s production ecosystem can adapt to Su-57 quickly.
Delivery timelines may be within 5–6 years instead of 10–12.
Russia historically imposes minimal operational restrictions.
Cost per capability delivered appears favourable versus Rafale.
While analysts debate Su-57 maturity, for India it remains the only near-term 5th-gen platform with potential for local manufacture, weapons integration freedom and technology access.
Crucially, India needs numbers, not token strength. Two or three squadrons of Su-57 add some capability as well as prestige, not deterrence. To matter, we need at least 9–10 squadrons — four for each front, one for the maritime/southern theatre. Indigenous manufacture would accelerate Atmanirbharta, lift our fighter-technology base by two decades overnight, and create spillover benefits for AMCA and even 6th-gen projects. Access to the Izdeliye-30 engine could relieve AMCA engine pressure and allow time to develop an Indian 120+ kN class engine.
Affordability & strategic logic
Some argue India cannot afford a major program. The counterpoint is simple: India cannot afford NOT to. Spending massively on limited Rafales gives quality but no quantity, no sovereignty in software, and little indigenisation. Large-scale Su-57 manufacturing, in contrast, builds both numbers and capability while strengthening domestic aerospace industry.
Hurdles to Su-57 procurement remain but they are external to the platform-related arguments made above. Procurement from Russia could draw CAATSA sanctions from the United States. India faces problems in paying for trade with Russia due to global financial sanctions. Lastly, India has a balance-of-payments problem with Russia of the ratio 10:1 in favour of Russia. Lastly, India’s geopolitical stance has been a strategic balancing, with the West on one hand, and Russia/China on the other; this complicates procurement. Regardless, it is in India’s interest to do what is best in its long-term security interests, and a very strong case can be made that procurement of the Su-57 is in India’s best interests.
What India should aim for
India needs numbers, not boutique fleets. Small batches of each type — Jag/Mirage/MiG-29/Su-30/Rafale/Su-57 — increase logistics complexity without mass.
A credible path could look like this:
Keep legacy fleets operational safely as long as possible.
Build Tejas Mk-1A in volume; accelerate Mk-2 development.
Push GE for timely F404/F414 deliveries while fast-tracking Kaveri maturation.
Pursue a Su-57 production negotiation, contingent on deep ToT and sovereign integration rights.
Execute Super-Sukhoi upgrades rapidly.
Commit to long-term indigenous mass production: e.g., 150–200 Tejas Mk-1A, 200 Mk-2, 200 AMCA over life-cycle, not token orders.
Use the momentum to advance toward a 6th-gen program.
Only then can India realistically reach 42 squadrons, and eventually 55.
Importantly, India cannot afford gaps in airpower — what we truly cannot afford is delay.
About the Author
Col Ashwin Baindur (Retd) is a veteran combat engineer. He is a member of the Current and Strategic Affairs Forum (CASA) and the United Services Institution (USI).
The Naval War College (NWC), located in Goa, stands as a cornerstone in India’s maritime strategic ecosystem. As a premier institution of the Indian Navy, it plays a critical role not only in shaping the leadership capabilities of senior officers within the Indian Armed Forces, but also in fostering regional maritime cooperation through its extensive engagement with foreign naval forces. Established with the vision of enhancing strategic and operational acumen, the NWC today serves as a hub for intellectual and diplomatic exchange in the Indian Ocean Region (IOR). Through its advanced academic programs, collaborative courses for international officers, and high-level symposiums, the college contributes significantly to regional security and naval diplomacy.
The Naval War College operates under the Southern Naval Command—the Indian Navy’s principal training command—and forms one of the three primary war colleges in India. Alongside the Army War College in Mhow and the College of Air Warfare, the NWC represents the tri-services approach to military education and strategic development. However, what distinguishes the NWC is its strong maritime focus and its unique positioning in Goa, a coastal state that symbolises India’s naval heritage and operational reach in the Arabian Sea.
The origins of the Naval War College trace back to 17 September 1988, when it was initially established as the College of Naval Warfare (CNW) at Karanja, Mumbai. It began its academic journey with the inauguration of the Naval Higher Command Course (NHCC) in the same year, aimed at preparing Indian naval officers for higher leadership roles. In 1994, the Technical Management Course (TMC) was introduced, reflecting the increasing need for technically sound and managerially skilled officers in the Navy. As part of a broader reorganisation, the Naval Academy was shifted to Ezhimala in Kerala, prompting the relocation of CNW to Goa. In August 2010, CNW was formally renamed the Naval War College, and the move to its present location in Goa was completed in August 2011. The new Naval War College building was inaugurated on 04 March 2024 by Shri Rajnath Singh, the Defence Minister.
Today, the NWC offers a structured academic curriculum tailored to the evolving demands of maritime security and regional defence cooperation. The flagship offering, the Naval Higher Command Course (NHCC), runs for 42 weeks and is attended by mid-career officers—Captains, Colonels, Group Captains and Commandants—from the Indian Navy, Army, Air Force and Coast Guard. The course focuses on developing strategic thinking, operational planning skills, and inter-service cooperation, preparing officers for higher command appointments within the armed forces. Participants of the NHCC also receive a MA(Hons) in Defence and Strategic Studies from the University of Mumbai, cementing the course’s academic rigor and recognition.
Complementing the NHCC is the Maritime Security Course (MSC), an eight-week program specifically designed for officers of Friendly Foreign Countries (FFCs). Participants typically include officers of the rank of Colonel, Captain, or Group Captain from countries such as Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Myanmar, Maldives, Seychelles and Oman. The course emphasizes cooperative strategies in maritime security, information-sharing mechanisms, and capacity-building, thus fostering trust and interoperability among regional naval forces. This platform not only strengthens bilateral and multilateral ties but also reinforces India’s position as a net security provider in the IOR.
The Naval Staff and Technical Management Course (NSTMC) is a distinguished programme that underscores the Navy’s dedication to technological proficiency and leadership development. Conducted over a duration of 24 weeks in collaboration with the Jamnalal Bajaj Institute of Management Studies (JBIMS) and University of Mumbai, the course awards participating officers of the rank of Commander a Post Graduate Diploma in Management Studies (PGDMS) and a Master of Arts in Maritime and Management Studies. The curriculum integrates advanced technical training with contemporary management principles, equipping officers for senior staff appointments in the domains of logistics, maintenance, and operational readiness.
Beyond formal academic courses, the Naval War College has emerged as a vibrant center for dialogue, research, and regional cooperation through its international events. The Goa Maritime Conclave (GMC) and Goa Maritime Symposium (GMS) are two flagship initiatives that provide a diplomatic and strategic forum for maritime nations of the IOR. These events bring together chiefs of navies, senior officials, and scholars from across the region to deliberate on shared challenges such as piracy, maritime terrorism, disaster response, and freedom of navigation. The themes of these conclaves reflect real-world concerns and help shape a common understanding of maritime governance.
Equally significant is the NWC’s participation in faculty exchange programs with other major international naval institutions, such as the Naval War College in the United States, Tokyo, and Myanmar. These academic linkages facilitate cross-cultural military education, joint research, and shared pedagogical methods. Through such exchanges, Indian naval officers gain insights into global best practices, while the visiting faculty experience India’s regional maritime perspectives. These academic and strategic bridges are crucial for maintaining long-term partnerships and operational compatibility in multilateral missions.
The College also hosts the annual Commanders’ Conclave, a high-level event attended by the Chief of the Naval Staff and Flag Officers Commanding-in-Chief from all major naval commands, including the Western, Eastern, Southern, and Andaman and Nicobar Commands. This event serves as an internal platform for reviewing strategic doctrines, operational readiness, and future planning. It highlights the central role that the NWC plays not just in education but in shaping the Navy’s strategic trajectory.
Through its diverse offerings and initiatives, the Naval War College, Goa, has established itself as more than just a training institute. It functions as a strategic asset, contributing to India’s maritime diplomacy, capacity-building among regional partners, and intellectual leadership in naval warfare and strategy. In a region marked by shifting geopolitical dynamics and increasing maritime competition, the importance of such an institution cannot be overstated.
By consistently attracting international participants and facilitating meaningful maritime dialogue, the NWC strengthens regional frameworks for cooperation and mutual security. Its courses for foreign officers and multinational events are a testament to India’s commitment to fostering a secure, stable, and rules-based maritime order in the Indo-Pacific. In doing so, the Naval War College not only enhances the professional capabilities of its students but also reinforces India’s role as a responsible and influential maritime power.
In summary, the Naval War College, Goa, plays a vital role in maintaining and advancing regional maritime cooperation. Its history reflects a legacy of adaptation and growth, while its courses and events address contemporary challenges with strategic foresight. Whether through its educational programs for Indian officers, training engagements with foreign navies, or the hosting of regional maritime dialogues, the NWC continues to serve as a beacon of knowledge, partnership, and security in the maritime domain.
The Indian Navy owes its origins to the warrant from the Lord High Admiral which authorised combatant status to the erstwhile Indian Marine on 01 May 1830. From the humble beginnings in the late 19th century, the (Royal) Indian Navy experienced phenomenal expansion during the Second World War. The expansion continued post-Independence, and the Indian Navy has grown in strength to become the formidable force that we know today.
Despite this incredible progress over the years, one question looms in the minds of many Indians – What does the Indian Navy do?
To a layman, the difference between Merchant Navy, which has become a sought-after career option for many youngsters, and the lesser exposed Indian Navy, may not be very apparent. This article is aimed towards simplifying the understanding of Indian Navy’s role, and highlight the major differences between Indian Navy and Merchant Navy.
In very simple terms, Merchant Navy does at sea, what the trucks do on the roads, that is, transport items from one place to the other. The items carried by Merchant Vessels or Merchant Ships can vary from food products like rice, wheat grains, pulses, & packaged and canned food to household products like electronics, furniture, clothes, shoes, mobile phones etc. In addition, the Merchant Tankers, which are specialised Merchant Ships, carry fuel oil, coal, LPG, CNG, and other fuel products. The Merchant Shipping industry acts as a prime mover of the country’s trade, since 95% of India’s trade by volume and 70% by value is conducted via sea. Thus, the contribution of Merchant Shipping for the economic growth of the country is humongous. Owing to this importance, there is a need to secure the trade through the sea. And this is where the Indian Navy comes in.
The Indian Navy is responsible for seaward defence of the nation, which is undertaken primarily through the warships, capable of carrying weapons, including missiles of varying ranges, and aircraft. The Indian Naval Ships patrol waters around the country to thwart any Maritime Security incident in the area, including attack on trade bound to/ from India. Other types of Maritime Security incidents include, but are not limited to, anti-piracy operations, anti-hijack operations, Search and Rescue Operations (saving lives at sea), etc. The Indian Navy is also the first responder in case of any natural calamity in the Indian Ocean Region, and the deployed Indian Naval ships are always ready to provide support in such a scenario. These include the Humanitarian Assistance and Disaster Relief Operations post calamities like a cyclone, flood, earthquake or Tsunami, as also providing assistance to civil administration to save lives of the citizens.
While the Merchant Navy is all about ships, Indian Navy includes ships, submarines and aircraft, in its arsenal. And each of these assets are further sub-divided into various classes of ships, submarines, helicopters, patrol aircraft, fighter aircraft, and UAVs. The one factor common to all Merchant Navy assets is that all Merchant ships carry different types of cargo all over the world. However, the one common thread binding all assets of Indian Navy is the responsibility of defence of the nation. All of the Indian Navy’s assets are deployed to ensure safety and security of seafarers, and the seas around them.
Over the last few decades, personnel from across the length and breadth of the country have joined Indian Navy, and this has improved the understanding of work done by Indian Navy. The misnomer about the number of sailing days, which was prevalent in the yesteryears about Indian Navy – six months onboard the ship(s), and six months at home, has also been addressed owing to the improvements in awareness levels as also due to ingress of social media.
The Indian Navy, like any other Defence Force, is up, about and ticking 24X7. Indian Naval ships sail for specific missions, of different durations, and the crew is granted leave or is turned around depending upon the mission. Whilst in harbour, the ship becomes a place of work, where personnel work during the working hours, and return home to their families in the evening. Additionally, the ship also acts like a home to the non-married personnel, who have their earmarked living spaces within the ship. Thus, while the personnel work on the ship whilst in harbour, they work as well as stay on the ship when the ship is sailing.
Let me come back to the main question – What does the Indian Navy do?
The primary purpose of the Indian Navy is to prevent war and conflict. However, in case they occur, the Indian Navy would play a decisive role in bringing them to an early and favourable conclusion. The Indian Navy is the principal manifestation of India’s maritime power, while playing a central role in safeguarding and promoting her security and national interests in the maritime domain.
But, how is it done?
Indian Naval assets are deployed in the waters not only around India, but around the world. At any point of time, a number of Indian Naval Ships, submarines and aircraft are sailing or flying at sea, either securing the waters around the country, or providing assistance to areas which have suffered a natural calamity, or engaging with navies around the world, to enhance maritime cooperation with the friendly foreign countries. And all this is possible only due to the sincere men and women working tirelessly, in the middle of the ocean for days together, with the sole aim of keeping the seas around the country safe and secure.
So, the next time you see a ship, submarine or aircraft with the markings of Indian Navy, or any person donning the white uniform of Indian Navy, remember that they are the silent naval warriors who brave the mighty seas, to ensure peace on land.
Every year on 04 December, India pauses to honour the men and women in Whites, who guard our seas; often far from our sight, yet never far from our nation’s heartbeat. We commemorate the Indian Navy’s daring Operation Trident in the 1971 War, when our forces struck Karachi harbour and showed the world what courage at sea looks like. Indian Navy Day is more than a ceremonial date; it is a reminder of how deeply the Navy is interwoven into our national security, economic vitality, and global identity. As we commemorate Navy Day 2025, it feels especially meaningful to reflect not just on past victories, but on how the Indian Navy is shaping the future of the Indian Ocean Region, and with it, India’s destiny.
India’s Strategic Position: A Nation at the Centre of the Indian Ocean
India sits like a keystone in the vast Indian Ocean astride one of the world’s most important maritime highways. Nearly $5 trillion worth of global trade passes through this region every year. For India specifically, over 90% of our trade by volume and approximately 70% by value is carried by sea. These aren’t just abstract numbers. They represent the energy that fuels our cities, the raw materials powering our industries, food and essentials to sustain our people and more importantly, the exports that carry the “Made in India” brand to the world. With such enormous economic stakes riding on the ocean, the Indian Navy doesn’t merely defend our shores—it safeguards our economic bloodstream.
Indian Navy: Guardian of Trade, Anchor of Stability
In the vastness of the Indian Ocean, threats do not always appear in the form of conventional enemies. Piracy, illegal trafficking, maritime terrorism, and hostile interference can choke trade routes and disrupt economies. This is where the Indian Navy’s commitment stands out. Be it anti-piracy patrols escorting merchant vessels in high-risk areas or mission-based deployments ensuring 24/7 presence across choke points like the Strait of Hormuz and the Malacca Strait or humanitarian assistance missions, the Navy has repeatedly proven why India is considered the Preferred Security Partner in the Indian Ocean.
Championing a Rule-Based Order and Free Seas
The world’s maritime economy depends on the assurance that the seas will remain open, safe, and governed by international law. India’s vision, therefore, is clear; freedom of navigation, respect for UNCLOS and international maritime norms and open sea routes free from coercion and conflict. The Indian Navy’s presence reinforces this rule-based order, ensuring that no state or non-state actor disrupts the lifelines of global commerce.
SAGAR: Security And Growth for All in the Region
Guiding this maritime philosophy is the SAGAR doctrine,India’s vision for inclusive cooperation in the Indian Ocean Region is focused on collective security of the region in partnership with like-minded maritime neighbours, humanitarian aid and disaster relief in times of crisis, capacity building and training towards collective growth and shared prosperity. SAGAR is not merely a policy; it is the foundation of India’s maritime outlook, finding practical expression in the everyday operations of the Indian Navy.
IFC-IOR and IFC Singapore: Quiet Heroes Behind Maritime Safety
Today, maritime security is as much about information power as naval power. A big part of making this happen on ground (or should we say, on the waves) are hubs like the Information Fusion Centre for the Indian Ocean Region (IFC-IOR) in Gurugram and its close collaboration with the IFC in Singapore. These aren’t flashy centres, yet, they are the eyes, ears and brains behind the naval operations. IFC-IOR fuses data from satellites, radars, and partner nations to create a real-time picture of what’s happening at sea – spotting suspicious vessels, warning about storms, or coordinating rescues. Linked with Singapore’s IFC, they share “white shipping” information (peaceful maritime traffic), disseminate alerts to mariners, and cue quick responses to threats. Whether it’s a fishing boat in distress or a potential piracy incident, these centres help coordinate operations across borders. The result? Safer merchant marine – those hardworking cargo ships and their crews that are truly the backbone of global and Indian economy.
The Growing Responsibility of the Indian Navy
As India rises in economic stature, its maritime responsibilities naturally expand.A stronger India means not just a larger share of global trade but also deeper strategic interests across the Indo-Pacific besides meeting expectations of our international partners and neighbours to ensure maritime safety. From supporting Sri Lanka during crises to aiding Maldives and Seychelles with maritime awareness, the Indian Navy has consistently stepped forward; not as a dominant power, but as a dependable partner. As the world becomes more dynamic than ever before, India is poised to play a prominent role in the Indian Ocean Region. The Navy’s role becomes even more central in this endeavour of contribution towards ensuring safe seas not just for India, but for the wider Indo-Pacific.
A Timeless Reminder
Perhaps the importance of the Navy is best captured in the words of Admiral Arun Prakash, former Chief of the Naval Staff: “The necessity of a navy… springs from the existence of peaceful shipping”.This simple truth resonates powerfully today as our nation’s prosperity sails on the shoulders of those who guard our oceans.
Celebrating Courage, Commitment, and Vision
On this Navy Day, we honour not only the operational brilliance of the Indian Navy, but also its quiet, steadfast contribution to India’s economic strength, regional stability, and global credibility. Let’s raise a toast (or a coconut water, if you’re on duty!) to our sailors. As we look toward a future of greater trade, deeper partnerships, and higher aspirations, one thing is certain; the Indian Navy will continue to be the shield that protects our seas and the anchor that steadies our rise.
File picture of Indian Navy & Singapore Navy cooperation: source Internet
Every year on 4 December, Indian Navy Day gives us a chance to reflect not just on ships, sailors, and operations, but also on the relationships and partnerships, that make the seas safer and the region stronger. This year, as I celebrate Indian Navy Day in Singapore, away from my home shores, the day has a different meaning. Celebrating it here with colleagues from the Republic of Singapore Navy, feels both familiar and special.
A Partnership Anchored in Training
Many Singaporeans may recognise the Indian Navy from ships frequently visiting Changi Naval Base or from the long-running SIMBEX exercise. However, fewer may know that since 1999, India has had a military training presence at SAFTI Military Institute (MI). For 25 years, Indian Navy officers have rotated through, becoming part of the training ecosystem and shaping young RSN officers.
This partnership has matured steadily over time. In classrooms, field exercises, and everyday conversations between instructors and cadets, the India–Singapore defence relationship has grown not through grand gestures, but through shared lessons, mutual respect, and consistent training. For an officer, standing in a SAFTI MI classroom wearing Indian Navy uniform and teaching future RSN leaders reminds us of how intertwined our maritime stories are. It also reflects something Singaporeans understand well: Training builds Trust.
At Sea Together: MSTD
Another vivid example of this trust is the Midshipman Sea Training Deployment (MSTD). Each year, a junior Indian Naval officer joins an RSN ship as midshipmen; budding footsteps towards their sea journey. They train, learn, and navigate together, often forming friendships that last beyond the deployment. Singaporeans appreciate the pride the RSN has in the Midshipman Course. For an Indian officer to be invited into that experience each year shows the confidence built over decades. In 2026, the deployment will take a significant step forward as Indian Navy Instructor deputed at SAFTI will also participate in MSTD. This role is a quiet acknowledgment that both navies trust each other enough to share not just ships and training programs, but also mentorship responsibilities. Collaborating on a ship’s bridge wing while watching midshipmen apply their lessons adds a new layer to our cooperation.
Strengthening Instruction Together
Another important step this year is the opportunity for the Indian Instructor at SAFTI MI to attend the SAF Instructor Course at the Institute of Military Learning. Anyone who has trained in Singapore recognises the SAF’s reputation for clarity, structure, and rigour in teaching. Being invited into that system shows both professional goodwill and a sense of belonging, as Indian officers here are contributors to a shared training environment, and not just guests. While this harmony may seem small at a glance, it has a big impact. It creates a smoother training experience for officer cadets and strengthens the interoperability of both navies long before they operate together at sea.
Why it Matters
These initiatives, participation in MSTD, the SAF Instructor Course, and the ongoing presence at SAFTI Military Institute, may seem just another training engagement when seen from India, but their significance here in Singapore is worth noting. Singapore and India are maritime nations by nature. Both are located near key international sea lanes and rely on the security and freedom of navigation in the high seas. Both countries also view security and stability in the Indo-Pacific as a shared responsibility. When two navies work together in classrooms, on training grounds, and at sea, they do more than exchange skills. They shape generations of officers who instinctively understand each other, officers who, years later, may command ships operating together in real missions.
A Singapore Experience
Serving in Singapore as an Indian Naval Instructor at SAFTI-MI has provided me a close-up view of this partnership. You notice the professionalism of RSN officers, the curiosity of midshipmen eager to learn how another navy approaches the profession of naval sea faring, and the genuine warmth that Singaporeans show to foreign officers living and training among them. As I get ready to join MSTD as an Instructor, I look forward not just to the sea time, but also experience how Singaporean midshipmen put their shore-based learning into practice. It’s a reminder that naval training, whether in India or Singapore, rests on a shared foundation of mentorship, discipline, and respect for the sea.
Celebrating Navy Day from a Different Shore
Observing Indian Navy Day from Singapore underscores a fundamental truth: Naval service extends far beyond Territorial waters. It is about building enduring partnerships, forging trust, and sustaining the security and stability of the maritime domain. The 25-year presence of Indian naval instructors at SAFTI MI is more than a training exchange; it is a tangible symbol of the professional cohesion and mutual confidence between India and Singapore. Navy Day reminds us that the real strength of a Navy is measured not only in ships or firepower, but in the relationships, shared values, and partnerships that safeguard the seas for all nations. To everyone who works at sea, trains those who go to sea, or supports them from home, this day is as much a tribute to their role in keeping our oceans safe, open, and peaceful.
The Chola dynasty emerged as a dominant force in South India during the medieval period, ascending to imperial heights under the leadership of monarchs such as Rajaraja Chola I (985–1014 CE) and his successor Rajendra Chola I (1014–1044 CE). From the late 9th century onward, the Cholas transformed from a regional Tamil kingdom into an expansive empire that exercised both territorial and maritime dominance. Central to their ascendancy was a highly organized administrative system, military efficiency, and most crucially, a formidable navy. This naval force not only defended coastal territories but also enabled overseas expeditions, culminating in the audacious campaign against the Srivijaya Empire in 1025 CE.
This military undertaking marked a watershed moment in Asian history. It was the first major Indian naval expedition that successfully projected hard power across the Bay of Bengal and deep into Southeast Asia. The campaign was not merely an exercise in conquest; it was underpinned by economic imperatives and strategic calculations. At its core, the Chola expedition was a response to rising constraints on Tamil commercial interests and a bold attempt to reshape the balance of power in maritime Asia.
By the early 11th century, the Cholas had established complete hegemony over peninsular India, stretching their influence from the eastern Deccan to the Coromandel Coast. With their land frontiers secured, they turned seaward. The Chola navy was one of the most advanced of its time, boasting large fleets capable of transoceanic voyages. These naval capabilities were not limited to warfare; they were intricately tied to commerce, diplomacy, and cultural dissemination.
The Bay of Bengal, a critical maritime highway connecting India with Southeast Asia and China, became the arena of Chola maritime engagement. Tamil merchant guilds—such as the Ayyavole, Manigramam, and Ainnurruvar—had long operated along these sea routes, establishing commercial enclaves across ports in Sri Lanka, the Malay Peninsula, and the Indonesian archipelago. However, their trading networks increasingly faced obstacles from Srivijaya, a powerful maritime empire based in Sumatra.
Srivijaya controlled vital choke points, most notably the Strait of Malacca, which served as the primary conduit for maritime trade between India, China, and the Islamic world. The kingdom leveraged its geographic position to impose tolls on merchant vessels and demanded that ships reroute through its ports. Indian merchants, particularly from Tamil Nadu, were often coerced—through maritime intermediaries such as the Orang Laut (sea people)—to dock at Srivijayan harbors, redirecting profits toward Palembang, the Srivijayan capital.
This systematic obstruction of Tamil commercial activity led to growing tensions. Scholars such as K.A. Nilakanta Sastri have argued that the Chola campaign was motivated more by economic retaliation than imperial expansion. The interference in trade routes posed a direct threat to Tamil merchant guilds, who were integral to the Chola economy. The Chola rulers, keen to protect these networks and assert dominance over critical sea lanes, saw military action as a necessary intervention.
In 1025 CE, Rajendra Chola I launched a massive naval expedition that would become one of the most sophisticated maritime operations of the medieval world. Chola inscriptions describe this undertaking with pride, referencing the deployment of “many ships in the midst of the rolling sea.” The campaign was notable for its logistical audacity and strategic ingenuity.
The Cholas employed diversionary tactics to confuse Srivijayan defenses. A secondary squadron was sent toward the northern reaches of the Strait of Malacca to create a false sense of threat, prompting Srivijaya to mobilize its forces in that direction. Meanwhile, the primary fleet sailed along the western coast of Sumatra, passed through the Sunda Strait, and launched a surprise attack on Palembang from the south. This route avoided heavily fortified areas and exploited the element of surprise—a rare feat in premodern naval warfare.
Inscriptions from the period list over a dozen port cities raided during the campaign, including Palembang (Srivijaya’s capital), Kadaram (modern-day Kedah, Malaysia), Pannai, Malaiyur (Jambi), Mevilimbangam, Talaittakkolam, and Mappapalam, among others. These cities were located across Sumatra, the Malay Peninsula, Myanmar, and the Nicobar Islands. The campaign led to the capture of King Sangrama Vijayatunggavarman of Srivijaya, along with elephants, treasures, and symbolic artifacts such as the jewelled war-gate, Vidyadhara-torana.
The Cholas did not attempt to establish lasting administrative control over these regions. Instead, their goal was to dismantle Srivijaya’s stranglehold over sea routes, humiliate its leadership, and open access for Tamil merchants. While Srivijaya continued to exist after the raids, its maritime supremacy was permanently weakened, creating space for emerging regional powers like the Khmer Empire in Cambodia and the Javanese state of Kahuripan.
Despite the military aggression, trade resumed relatively quickly. Chinese records from the Song dynasty indicate the arrival of Srivijayan emissaries in China as early as 1028 CE, only three years after the invasion. However, the balance of power had shifted. Tamil merchant guilds, emboldened by the Chola victory, expanded their reach across Southeast Asia. For the next century, they maintained significant commercial and cultural influence in key ports.
Archaeological and epigraphic evidence supports this narrative. Tamil inscriptions have been discovered in Kedah, Palembang, and Jambi. Artifacts and temple remains in these regions show stylistic features characteristic of South Indian architecture. Tamil loanwords entered local languages, and Tamil merchant settlements became integrated into the fabric of Southeast Asian port life.
This period also witnessed an increase in cultural and religious exchanges. While military in nature, the Chola intervention did not disrupt the longstanding flow of religious and philosophical ideas. On the contrary, Tamil Shaivism and Vaishnavism continued to spread alongside Mahayana Buddhism, contributing to the syncretic religious landscapes of Southeast Asia.
Historians remain divided on the underlying motives of the 1025 expedition. Early scholars such as G.W. Spencer interpreted the campaign as a classic case of imperial overreach—a desire to project Chola sovereignty across the sea. In contrast, more recent analyses emphasize the economic dimensions, viewing the campaign as a reaction to Srivijayan harassment of Indian traders.
Supporting this economic thesis, Chinese sources such as Zhufan zhi note Srivijayan acts of piracy and coercion directed at vessels bypassing their ports. These incidents, seen as economic provocations, suggest that the Cholas were not seeking territorial conquest, but rather the protection of trade routes vital to their polity.
Regardless of the lens through which the campaign is viewed, its consequences were far-reaching. It marked a shift from soft cultural influence to hard military projection. It demonstrated the capacity of an Indian polity to undertake long-range naval operations—a feat rare in ancient and medieval history.
In 2025, India commemorated the millennium of Rajendra Chola’s naval expedition with a series of national celebrations. Events included cultural exhibitions at Gangaikonda Cholapuram (the imperial capital), the release of a ₹1,000 silver commemorative coin, and a renewed focus on maritime history in Tamil Nadu’s tourism initiatives.
These celebrations were not merely historical tributes. They were framed within the context of contemporary strategic narratives, particularly India’s “Act East” policy and its Indo-Pacific maritime strategy. The Chola legacy was invoked to underline themes of ancient connectivity, maritime sovereignty, and regional engagement with ASEAN nations.
The campaign has also served as a case study in maritime strategy. Analysts highlight how the Cholas understood and exploited maritime chokepoints such as the Strait of Malacca—insights that remain relevant for present-day India’s naval doctrine. The strategic use of monsoon winds, navigational skill, and synchronised fleet movement offer valuable lessons in premodern logistics and planning.
Furthermore, the Chola model of decentralised governance—through local village assemblies (sabhas and urs)—has been cited in policy discussions on participatory governance and administrative reform. It illustrates how a strong central authority can coexist with local autonomy, a concept increasingly pertinent in discussions of federalism and rural empowerment.
The Chola naval expedition to Kadaram in 1025 CE represents the pinnacle of medieval South Indian maritime ambition. It was an unprecedented assertion of state power across the seas, executed with precision and strategic foresight. The campaign disrupted Srivijaya’s regional monopoly, safeguarded Tamil commercial interests, and paved the way for a century of Tamil economic and cultural prominence in Southeast Asia.
It also marked a departure from centuries of peaceful exchange to an era where military force became an accepted tool in regional geopolitics. Yet the Cholas did not seek territorial annexation. Their goal was pragmatic—ensuring free access to trade corridors, defending economic interests, and elevating prestige.
In modern times, the expedition stands as a reminder of the enduring link between maritime power and national influence. It underscores how strategic vision, technological adaptation, and commercial protection can coalesce into effective policy—principles as relevant today as they were a millennium ago.
Most importantly, the legacy of the Chola expedition should be appreciated not through the lens of cultural supremacy, but as a testament to the complex interplay between trade, diplomacy, warfare, and cultural exchange in shaping the history of the Indian Ocean world.
Across the vast expanse beyond Earth’s atmosphere, a new frontier of competition has emerged that will fundamentally shape global security and military dominance in the twenty-first century. The strategic competition between the United States and China in space has intensified dramatically, particularly over the past decade, as both nations recognize that superiority in orbit translates directly to dominance across terrestrial battlefields and beyond. Unlike conventional military competition confined to land, sea, and air, space warfare represents an entirely new dimension where the traditional doctrines of deterrence, capability development, and strategic messaging must be reimagined for an era where satellites weaponize information and proximity operations in orbit transform the rules of engagement.
The militarization of space by both superpowers did not begin recently. The United States conducted its first anti-satellite weapons test as far back as 1959 during the Cold War era, while the Soviet Union pursued parallel programs. However, the contemporary space competition differs fundamentally from its predecessor. Where the Cold War space race was driven primarily by ideological rivalry and technological prestige, the current strategic competition is driven by military necessity, economic advantage, and the realization that modern warfare depends almost entirely on space-based systems for communications, navigation, surveillance, and precision strike capabilities.
China’s deliberate entrance into modern space warfare capabilities began with a watershed moment on January 11, 2007, when it conducted an anti-satellite missile test that destroyed its own defunct Fengyun-1C weather satellite at an altitude of approximately 865 kilometers. This test, observed by United States officials from the Joint Space Operations Center at Vandenberg Air Force Base, fundamentally altered global perceptions of space security. As Chief of Space Operations General Chance Saltzman reflected, that single event demonstrated that space was no longer safe and that everything had irrevocably changed. The test created approximately 3,500 trackable debris pieces, along with thousands of smaller fragments that remain a persistent threat to all space operations and continue to pose collision hazards for orbital infrastructure decades later.
Current Orbital Capabilities and Launch Infrastructure
The disparity between United States and Chinese space capabilities has narrowed considerably since 2015, though important distinctions remain. As of July 2025, according to the United States Space Force Space Threat Fact Sheet, China had deployed more than 1,189 satellites in orbit, representing an increase of approximately 927 percent since the end of 2015 when China maintained roughly 260 satellites. In comparison, the United States, including both government and commercial systems, maintains a combined orbital presence exceeding 2,600 satellites, though this includes numerous commercial communications systems operated by private companies.
More significantly, the composition of these orbital assets reveals the military orientation of Chinese space programs. According to authoritative Space Force assessments, the People’s Liberation Army benefits from over 510 intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance satellites equipped with optical, multispectral, radar, and radio frequency sensors. This ISR constellation has grown by approximately six times over the past eight years, with commercial ISR satellites increasing seventeen-fold. These satellites provide the PLA with persistent global awareness capabilities, enabling detection of United States aircraft carriers, expeditionary forces, air wings, and vulnerable military infrastructure across the Indo-Pacific region and beyond.
In terms of launch capacity, China has demonstrated remarkable expansion. By July 2025, China had conducted 42 total space launches, of which 41 were successful, placing 112 payloads into orbit. This pace, combined with China’s successful testing of reusable launch vehicle technology including a 12-kilometer vertical takeoff and landing test conducted in 2024, demonstrates Beijing’s commitment to achieving rapid, frequent access to space. China plans to launch 648 G60 communications satellites to low Earth orbit by the end of 2025 and as many as 15,000 satellites by 2030 as part of its proliferated low Earth orbit constellation strategy intended to compete with Western commercial systems operated by companies such as SpaceX.
Counterspace Weapons Architecture: China’s Arsenal
China has developed a comprehensive, full-spectrum array of counterspace weapons designed to degrade, disrupt, or destroy United States and allied space systems. These capabilities span kinetic and non-kinetic domains and operate across multiple orbital regimes.
Anti-Satellite Missiles and Kinetic Systems: Following the 2007 ASAT test, China has continued developing and deploying ground-launched anti-satellite missiles capable of reaching low Earth orbit altitudes. According to Pentagon assessments documented in the Military and Security Developments Involving the People’s Republic of China report, China may have already developed weapons capable of striking satellites in geosynchronous orbit, at altitudes exceeding 36,000 kilometers. This would represent a significant advancement, as geosynchronous orbit hosts critical United States military early warning systems, secure communications, and missile detection platforms.
Ground-Based Laser Weapons: China has fielded multiple ground-based laser weapons systems designed to disrupt, degrade, or damage satellite sensors and structures. General Saltzman testified before Congress that by the mid-to-late 2020s, the United States expects China to deploy systems with sufficient power to physically damage satellite structures, not merely degrade sensor performance. These systems provide China with a reversible counterspace capability that does not create persistent orbital debris and thus may be employed with reduced international escalation risk.
Co-orbital and Proximity Operations: Among China’s most concerning developments is its demonstrated capability to conduct proximity operations, which involve maneuvering satellites into extremely close proximity to other space objects. In 2024, the United States Space Force reported that China conducted proximity operations involving five satellites, specifically three Shiyan-24C reconnaissance satellites and two additional vehicles. These operations demonstrated precise orbital mechanics capabilities and satellite maneuvering proficiency.
More significantly, in 2024, China successfully maneuvered two reconnaissance satellites, Shiyan-21 and Shiyan-25, into extreme proximity in geosynchronous orbit, where they conducted probable satellite refueling experiments. According to United States Space Command observations, the Chinese military demonstrated the capability to maneuver a satellite equipped with a robotic arm out past geosynchronous orbit, deposit it in a different position, and return it to geosynchronous orbit in a period of only several days. These operations demonstrate that Chinese satellites possess not merely rendezvous capabilities but potentially destructive capabilities for removing adversary satellites from orbit through kinetic engagement or capture.
Electronic Warfare Systems: China operates jamming systems capable of targeting space-based communications, radars, and navigation systems across multiple frequency bands, including the Pentagon’s extremely-high-frequency military communications. These systems can temporarily disable or degrade critical command and control links, reconnaissance data transmission, and precision navigation signals upon which United States military operations depend. The non-destructive nature of these attacks creates ambiguity regarding escalation and makes attribution particularly challenging.
Space-Based Surveillance and Targeting Networks: Perhaps most concerning to United States military planners is China’s development of integrated “kill chains” that combine ISR satellites with precision strike systems. Chinese reconnaissance satellites provide targeting data directly to land-based anti-ship cruise missiles, ground-to-air systems, and maritime platforms. This networked approach enables China to detect, track, and target United States naval assets at ranges exceeding previous capabilities and to assess the effectiveness of Chinese strikes against hardened targets.
United States Space Capabilities and Response Architecture
The United States maintains substantial advantages in space technology, launch reliability, and orbital asset sophistication, though these advantages have eroded significantly. The United States Space Force, formally established on September 20, 2019, operates approximately 8,400 active-duty military personnel across multiple operational commands. The Space Operations Command coordinates tactical space operations, while United States Space Command provides strategic space command authority.
United States satellite systems in orbit include early warning platforms in geosynchronous orbit, global positioning system navigation satellites in medium Earth orbit, secure military communications systems across multiple orbital regimes, and substantial imagery intelligence collection capabilities. The United States maintains superiority in launch frequency and reliability through a combination of government-operated systems and heavily subsidized commercial launch providers.
However, in response to China’s counterspace threat, the United States has initiated development of offensive counterspace capabilities, though these programs remain significantly constrained compared to Chinese systems. The Counter Communications System, an upgraded large ground-based antenna, was declared operational in 2020 and provides temporary jamming capabilities against adversary satellites. The United States military is now fielding two additional systems designed to jam Chinese and Russian reconnaissance satellites. The Meadowlands system, developed by L3Harris Technologies after years of technical delays, is undergoing final training and live-fire exercises and is expected to achieve operational status in 2025. The Remote Sensing Terminals are intended for deployment across multiple global locations and can be operated remotely.
These systems represent the primary operational counterspace weapons deployed by the United States military. Notably, the United States does not currently possess an operational anti-satellite missile capability equivalent to China’s ground-launched systems, nor does it possess demonstrated co-orbital satellite capabilities for proximity operations. This asymmetry in operational counterspace weapons has generated considerable concern within the Department of Defense and Congress.
Comparative Assessment: Advantages and Vulnerabilities
A comprehensive comparison of United States and Chinese space warfare capabilities reveals a complex calculus of advantage and disadvantage that varies by orbital regime and type of conflict.
Chinese Advantages: China possesses operational counterspace weapons across multiple domains, including ground-launched anti-satellite missiles, laser systems, and co-orbital satellite capabilities. These systems are deployed and operationalized, not merely under development. China’s commitment to building redundant ISR constellations across multiple orbital regimes demonstrates a determination to create resilience through proliferation rather than through advanced technology. China’s recent successful reusable launch vehicle testing suggests that launch frequency will increase substantially, potentially enabling China to reconstitute lost satellite assets more rapidly than adversaries. Additionally, China’s civil-military fusion strategy leverages civilian commercial space industry resources to support military objectives, creating an integrated space industrial complex.
United States Advantages: The United States maintains technological superiority in satellite design, on-orbit operations, and system reliability. United States satellites continue to incorporate more advanced sensors, more capable processors, and superior redundancy features compared to Chinese systems. The United States maintains a substantial launch infrastructure advantage, with commercial providers including SpaceX providing launch services at costs below equivalent Chinese capabilities. The United States possesses superior in-orbit satellite maneuvering capabilities and extensive experience operating complex orbital mechanics. United States ground stations and command and control infrastructure remain globally distributed and technologically sophisticated.
Chinese Vulnerabilities: China’s rapid expansion of space assets has created significant vulnerability. China now depends heavily on space-based systems for communications, navigation, and the command and control essential to its military operations. The proliferation of Chinese satellites creates a large target set that the United States could potentially degrade. However, the United States faces political and legal constraints on developing and deploying offensive counterspace weapons comparable to those employed by China. Additionally, China’s civil-military fusion strategy provides it with flexibility that the United States, with its separation between military and civilian space operations, does not possess. The space debris created by Chinese and Russian testing of counterspace weapons has increased the risk of Kessler syndrome, where cascading debris collisions could render certain orbital regimes unusable for decades.
United States Vulnerabilities: The United States military remains extraordinarily dependent on space systems for command and control, precision strike, intelligence collection, and communications. The loss or degradation of critical satellite systems during a conflict would substantially degrade United States operational effectiveness. General Dickinson, Commander of United States Space Command, has emphasized that space is decisive and critical to all military operations. The United States has explicitly restricted the development of certain offensive counterspace capabilities due to international treaty obligations and domestic policy constraints, creating an asymmetry with China’s approach. The United States Space Force has testified before Congress that it remains significantly underfunded for the execution of its newest and most critical mission: space control.
Anticipated Developments and Future Trajectory
Both nations are pursuing advanced technologies that will fundamentally reshape space warfare over the coming decade. China has published its Space Development Plan emphasizing Beijing’s intent to surpass the United States and become the world’s preeminent space power. This plan includes development of advanced orbital service vehicles, demonstrated reusable launch systems, and expanded ISR constellations.
The United States is investing in distributed satellite architectures designed to provide redundancy, technologies for rapid satellite replacement and on-orbit logistics, and advanced sensor systems. However, budget constraints and the delayed fielding of key counterspace systems have created a widening capability gap in certain domains.
Conclusion
The comparison between China and the United States in space warfare reveals a strategic competition characterized by Chinese acceleration across counterspace weapon systems and constellation expansion, while the United States attempts to maintain technological advantages while responding to policy constraints on offensive weapons development. China has moved from aspirational programs to operational counterspace capabilities, while the United States remains in development phases for comparable systems. The trajectory of competition suggests that China will continue narrowing the gap across multiple dimensions, potentially achieving rough parity or superiority in specific counterspace domains within the coming decade. This competition will shape not only military capabilities but also global stability, as both nations navigate the unprecedented challenge of conducting military operations in an environment that remains insufficiently governed by international law and agreements.
About the Author
Kumar Aryan is an analytical and results-oriented postgraduate from Symbiosis School of International Studies (SIU) with a Master’s in International Relations, Global Security, and International Business Strategy. He possesses a strong understanding of geopolitics and economics, expertise in research and data-driven strategy, and proven leadership in team management and is experienced in market intelligence, data analysis, and cross-cultural engagement.
Greenland has rapidly transitioned from a peripheral Arctic territory into a pivotal theatre in twenty-first-century geopolitics, driven by accelerating great-power competition for critical minerals and strategic access. Possessing vast deposits containing at least 45 million tonnes of rare-earth-rich ore, including high-value heavy elements such as dysprosium, terbium, and yttrium, the island occupies a unique position within emerging supply chain security debates. Considering China currently dominates 60% of global rare earth mining and controls up to 85% of worldwide processing capacity, Western policymakers increasingly view Greenland as essential for diversifying supplies critical to defence, renewable energy, and advanced technologies. In such circumstances, reports in late 2025 that Washington was exploring an equity stake in Critical Metals Corp – the company developing Greenland’s Tanbreez project – signalled a significant evolution in US policy thinking. However, such developments occurred alongside intensified diplomatic friction, renewed NATO debates, and expanding European and Canadian interest, revealing the complex intersections of resource competition, regional security, and Arctic governance shaping the trajectory of US-Greenland engagement.
Greenland’s Critical Minerals and Global Strategic Value
Rare Earth Elements and Supply Chain Vulnerabilities
Greenland’s geological profile places it at the centre of global efforts to secure non-Chinese sources of critical minerals. The Tanbreez deposit in southern Greenland contains one of the world’s largest heavy rare earth concentrations, with approximately 27% of the deposit composed of high-value heavy elements essential for high-temperature magnets used in electric vehicle motors, missile guidance systems, wind turbines, and advanced radar technologies. Western governments increasingly regard these minerals as foundational to national resilience, given Beijing’s demonstrated willingness to leverage export controls during geopolitical disputes, including the 2010 embargo targeting Japan and more recent restrictions on gallium and germanium.
Greenland’s broader resource profile further amplifies its strategic value and geological surveys indicate the presence of 40 of the 50 minerals designated by Washington as “critical”, alongside 25 of the 34 raw materials categorised as “critical” by the European Commission. Considering such raw materials include gallium, tantalum, zinc, lead, gold, and uranium, however, the latter remains subject to a 2021 Greenlandic ban reflecting environmental and sovereignty concerns. Considering forecasts by the International Energy Agency that rare earth demand may rise by 600% by 2040, Greenland’s potential role within future supply chains appears substantial. In such circumstances, attention has also centred on the Strange Lake deposit, which analysts suggest could eventually supply nearly 16% of global heavy rare earth demand once fully operational.
Evolution of US Strategic Engagement
From Symbolic Interest to Institutional Engagement
American outreach towards Greenland intensified significantly during the Trump administration, though initial remarks overshadowed the seriousness of emerging institutional frameworks. Trump’s 2019 suggestion of purchasing Greenland attracted criticism; however, it also signalled renewed attention to the island’s strategic and mineral potential. Vice President JD Vance’s high-profile visit to Nuuk in March 2025 illustrated an evolution from rhetorical interest to structured diplomatic engagement, reflecting bipartisan recognition of Greenland’s role in addressing US supply chain vulnerabilities.
Considering this backdrop, rebuilding institutional architecture became a priority. Washington’s reopening of its consulate in Nuuk in 2020 strengthened bilateral contact, enabling sustained engagement on mineral development, scientific cooperation, and Arctic policy. In such circumstances, the 2019 US-Greenland memorandum on mineral resource development- despite expiring without renewal under the Biden administration – provided an early template for coordinated economic engagement.
Direct Government Investment and Strategic Stakes
American interest in converting a $50 million Defence Production Act grant into an estimated 8% equity stake in Critical Metals Corp demonstrated how Washington increasingly considers direct investment necessary to secure critical mineral supply chains. This approach mirrored domestic precedents, including the 2025 purchases of stakes in Lithium Americas (5%) and MP Materials (approximately 15%), financed through Department of Energy warrants and direct equity injections. Further, such interventions marked a notable shift from grant-based funding towards deeper state involvement in strategic extractive industries.
American financing architecture further expanded through the US Export-Import Bank’s preliminary offer of a $120 million loan for Tanbreez’s construction, equal to approximately 41% of project costs. Considering discussions within Washington about reallocating portions of the CHIPS and Science Act budget towards critical minerals, there is strong evidence that policymakers increasingly conceptualise mineral access as strategic infrastructure akin to semiconductors.
Geopolitical Dynamics and Regional Security Implications
NATO Tensions and Danish Sovereignty Concerns
US ambition in Greenland complicated relations with Denmark, which retains constitutional sovereignty over the island while granting extensive autonomy to its government. Tensions intensified in August 2025 when Denmark’s security service detected American attempts to identify potential supporters for pro-US narratives in Greenland, prompting a formal diplomatic reprimand. Danish leaders described such interference as unacceptable, whilst expressing concern that American rhetoric risked destabilising domestic political dynamics in Greenlandic communities. On the issue as Danish authorities summoned the US charge d’affaires for a formal dressing-down over the issue, with the Trump administration responding that Denmark should “calm down”, exacerbating diplomatic friction.
Further, Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen who articulated that Greenlandic anxieties, noting how unsettling it felt for residents of small coastal settlements when the world’s strongest superpower spoke of them as something that could be bought or owned. Considering the long history of Danish stewardship in the Arctic, these tensions manifested symbolically when Denmark excluded US military participation from its major Arctic Light 2025 exercise, despite invitations to observe. In such circumstances, the episode revealed deeper structural frictions within NATO concerning Arctic priorities, alliance cohesion, and regional threat perceptions.
Greenlandic Political Agency and Sovereignty Assertions
Greenland’s domestic politics strongly shaped responses to US advances. Foreign Minister Naaja Nathanielsen described Trump’s public interest in acquiring Greenland as “disrespectful”, arguing that such statements disregarded Greenlanders’ right to self-determination. Prime Minister Jens-Frederik Nielsen later reaffirmed this stance when addressing the European Parliament, emphasising Greenland’s commitment to maintaining constructive European partnerships whilst remaining open to diversified international cooperation.
Greenland’s 2021 uranium mining ban also illustrated willingness to reject foreign investment perceived as environmentally or politically problematic, ultimately preventing Chinese state-linked investors from pursuing the Kvanefjeld project. The ban demonstrated Greenland’s capacity to regulate extractive industries independently despite external pressure.
Multilateral Competition beyond the US
Growing global interest in Greenland’s mineral sector reflected broader strategic realignments across the Arctic. Considering the UK reopened free trade negotiations in 2025 and EU funding proposals exceeded €530 million, competition for access to Greenlandic minerals extends well beyond Washington. In such circumstances, Canadian policymakers have also argued that enhanced Canada-Greenland cooperation could help balance US influence, particularly given similarities between Greenlandic and Inuit-governed territories in northern Canada.
Development of the Tanbreez Project
Project Structure, Control, and Production Ambitions
Critical Metals Corp’s acquisition of Tanbreez for $216 million in combined cash and equity significantly altered ownership dynamics, enabling Western control over one of the world’s largest heavy rare earth deposits. The company’s subsequent increase in ownership to 92.5% strengthened this position, with European Lithium retaining a small minority (7.5%) share.
Such a projection appears particularly relevant given China’s historical tendency to manipulate rare earth prices during periods of emerging competition. In such circumstances, production plans outline phased expansion, beginning with 85,000 tonnes of rare earth concentrate annually from 2026, scaling potentially to 425,000 tonnes if modular expansion proceeds.
Further, such a scenario carries significant implications for market stability and long-term diversification efforts. Critical Metals also secured a ten-year offtake agreement with a US separation facility in August 2025, ensuring integration into Western midstream processing networks from the outset.
Environmental, Logistical, and Regulatory Considerations
Developing Tanbreez poses important logistical challenges due to harsh Arctic conditions and limited local infrastructure. Despite these challenges, the site’s proximity to deep-water fjords enables year-round shipping, offering a significant logistical advantage compared to other Arctic mining operations.
Environmental governance remains central to Greenland’s regulatory approach, particularly regarding radioactive material handling. Given the 2021 uranium ban, projects generating significant radioactive waste require exceptional safeguards. Greenlandic authorities have repeatedly stressed the importance of community involvement, respect for Indigenous rights, and strict compliance with environmental standards.
Market Dynamics and China’s Strategic Responses
Considering China’s dominance in rare earth processing, market analysts suggest that Beijing could attempt to undercut emerging Western suppliers by lowering prices or increasing output. In such circumstances, historical precedents demonstrate that Chinese pricing decisions significantly influence global market stability. Western policymakers nevertheless view diversification as essential despite potential volatility, given long-term demand growth driven by electrification and military modernisation.
Policy Implications and Strategic Futures
Building Mine-to-Magnet Supply Chains
Washington’s potential investment in Tanbreez forms part of a wider national strategy to construct full mine-to-magnet supply chains independent of China. This includes investment in separation facilities, magnet manufacturing plants, and streamlined permitting systems. Considering the United States historically relied almost entirely on Chinese processing, rebuilding midstream capacity remains essential for achieving technological and defence resilience.
Balancing Strategy with Diplomacy
The future of US-Greenland relations depends on recalibrating American diplomacy towards partnership rather than acquisition. Considering earlier tensions generated by Trump’s rhetoric and reported influence activities, Washington faces a strategic necessity to demonstrate respect for Greenland’s autonomy, environmental priorities, and political agency. In such circumstances, cooperation with Denmark and the EU remains essential to maintain NATO unity and sustain long-term Arctic governance stability.
Further, climate change fundamentally alters Arctic dynamics, with ice retreat opening new shipping routes and resource access whilst simultaneously raising environmental risks. Denmark’s investment commitments, which include considering the acquisition of P-8 maritime patrol and reconnaissance aircraft for double-digit billion kroner to improve situational awareness around Greenland and the Faroe Islands, reflect growing threat perceptions. Such defensive investments, combined with increased NATO exercises in the region, risked escalating tensions yet proved necessary to maintain deterrence against potential adversaries.
Arctic Security Architecture and Multilateralism
Arctic governance is evolving due to intensifying multilateral competition and shifting security dynamics. Considering Russia’s extensive military build-up in the region alongside Sino-Russian cooperation, Western states increasingly emphasise surveillance, maritime domain awareness, and shared military exercises. In such circumstances, Greenland’s growing diplomatic assertiveness – including its increasing participation in European fora – indicates an emerging role in shaping Arctic governance frameworks rather than simply being governed through Danish representation.
Conclusion
US outreach towards Greenland during the Trump administration revealed an intricate convergence of strategic resource acquisition, Arctic security considerations, and diplomatic tension. Greenland’s exceptional rare earth endowments, particularly the heavy rare earth-rich Tanbreez deposit, provide Washington with an opportunity to diversify critical mineral supply chains away from Chinese dominance. However, these opportunities have unfolded alongside Danish concerns about sovereignty breaches, Greenlandic assertions of political agency, and intensifying European, British, and Canadian competition for access to Greenland’s resources. Further, Danish Prime Minister Frederiksen’s parliamentary address, warning that ‘Trump will be back’, reflected sustained concern despite temporary quiet on the issue.
Considering this interplay, the future stability of US-Greenland relations requires recalibrated diplomacy grounded in mutual respect, environmental responsibility, and recognition of Greenland’s autonomy. In such circumstances, Greenland’s emerging strategic role within broader Arctic governance debates demonstrates how resource security, alliance cohesion, and climate-driven geopolitical change are reshaping regional politics. The trajectory of the US-Greenland relationship will therefore remain a key indicator of whether great-power competition in the Arctic proceeds through cooperative partnerships or escalates into adversarial zero-sum dynamics.
Beyond infrastructure and financing, China’s ascent in South Asia is the result of a calculated cognitive strategy that influences regional dependence, perceptions, and decision-making to its advantage. The Belt and Road Initiative serves as a psychological and strategic influence tool in addition to being an economic initiative. As it prepares its 15th Five Year Plan for (2026-2030), China emphasises energy security, domestic consumption, national security, and technical self-reliance, signalling a move away from rapid growth and towards “strategic endurance”. This illustrates how, in addition to its economic and military prowess, Beijing is increasingly depending on cognitive weapons of power to shape influence and perception.
China’s political system has historically associated ideological control with economic statecraft. Under Xi Jinping’s quest for centralisation, the Communist Party’s internal governance mechanisms treat cognition – the way that people, markets, and states think – as a realm of power. This idea is expanded upon by the BRI, which influences South Asia’s mental and physical environments.
There is subtle logic to it. In addition to promising growth, stability, and connection, China’s projects foster an attitude of inevitable modernisation in the region, with Beijing serving as its vital architect. Even hesitant or suspicious governments start using Beijing’s developmental grammar to frame their national objectives once this image becomes entrenched.
China creates a kind of strategic habituation – a mental alignment where smaller governments accept disparity as normal and advantageous – through infrastructure diplomacy, loan leverage, technical dependency, and media narratives. In this sense, cognition serves as the glue that holds China’s South Asia Play together – not by coercion, but by a shared understanding and belief in Beijing’s developmental logic.
The 15th Five Year Plan, Powered and Codified
The forthcoming 15th Five Year Plan for (2026-2030) represents a major shift in China’s foreign policy approach. This blueprint places more focus on national security, strategic self-sufficiency, and resilience in the face of the global uncertainty than earlier plans that were fixated on GDP targets.
Its fundamental idea is the “dual circulation” approach, which aims to retain a limited, controlled foreign engagement while bolstering home economic circulation. This calls for a designated BRI for South Asia, one that places more emphasis on strategic embedding and less on aggressive loans, combining digital infrastructure, supply networks, and technology standards in ways that maintain long-term reliance.
Three key elements that stand out:
Technological Independence. China wants to control key technologies, including AI, quantum computing, renewable energy, and rare earth elements, including those found in Myanmar and export them in accordance with its own regulations. This strategy is evident in Huawei’s digital corridors, AI surveillance initiatives in Pakistan, and e-governance systems in Bangladesh and Nepal, reflects recognition of technological inevitability in which Chinese innovation is becoming more linked to regional wealth.
Security of Energy and Resources. China creates redundancy and reach by developing in ports like Gwadar and Hambantota as well as electricity grids in Bangladesh and Myanmar. This is done not only for trade but also for strategic continuity. Whether driven by necessity or aspiration, South Asian cooperation strengthens Beijing’s sense of fortitude in a changing global energy of environment.
Resilience in the Economy as a Psychological Leverage. China’s connection with South Asia grows increasingly selective, yet symbolically powerful, as its export dependencies decreases and its domestic consumption increases. Even in cases when financial results are unknown, smaller states view involvement of Chinese projects as a means of achieving long-term economic stability. Beijing’s silent victory is this anticipatory psychology, which is motivated by a fear of being left out.
Expansionism through Cognition
Overt coercion and territory grabs are no longer the mainstays of China’s expansionism policy in South Asia. Under the pretext of ‘win-win’ development, it shapes perceptions, expectations, and dependencies instead through institutional and psychological manipulation. Beijing creates a sense of inevitable outcomes by supplying financing, technology, and infrastructure; smaller states learn to view alignment as a strategic opportunity rather than a sign of capitulation. The fear of being shut out or losing access motivates engagement even in cases where nations acknowledge China’s aspirations. In essence, perception, not coercion, is used to create reliance, making intellect the tool of expansion. This creates a long-term strategic power that endures much beyond agreements or loans.
Acquiring the ability to think instead of reacting
To tackle this cognitive expansionism, South Asia needs to be intellectually agile rather than hysterical. The region needs to make investments in strategic cognition, which is the ability to read China’s internal changes, understand its economic psychology, and predict how it will manifest itself outside.
It is crucial to diversify developmental narratives; countries must imagine modernisation without adopting Chinese model of habit.
The prevention of cognitive capture by Chinese systems can be achieved through regional coordination on digital and infrastructure standards.
Local control over agency will be maintained by transparent debt structures.
Beijing’s strategy for South Asia is about rewiring cognition, not just only ports and railroads. This is made official by the 15th Five Year Plan, which unifies economic strategy, technological aspirations, and security considerations into a single framework of power.
Perception, not geography, is China’s new frontier. And South Asia will continue to be bonded to Beijing – not by debt, but by design – unless it can successfully negotiate that mental battleground.
