India’s indigenous defence programs have long faced ridicule from critics. For decades, commentators dismissed investments in home-grown military platforms as misguided. Why pour resources into unproven domestic systems, they argued, when advanced foreign alternatives stand ready on the shelf?

Consider the Kaveri engine: detractors question its viability amid a ready deal with General Electric. Similarly, why develop the Prachand helicopter when Apache gunships can be procured outright? Indian howitzers seem redundant next to Israeli models, and programmes like TEJAS, AMCA, or indigenous drones appear inferior to battle-tested imports.

This scepticism shaped India’s defence discourse for years. Indigenous efforts were branded inefficient, chronically delayed, or outright inferior—mere emotional indulgences rather than pragmatic choices. “Make in India” in defence was derided as little more than screwdriver assembly, lacking true manufacturing depth.

Critics contended that India simply lacks the technological prowess, industrial ecosystem, and expertise to rival global giants. Foreign procurement, they insisted, offered reliability and immediacy. Yet this mindset is now under fire, not only in India but worldwide.

The shift stems from stark geopolitical realities. Ironically, it was former US President Donald Trump who laid bare a truth many nations ignored: reliance on foreign weapons systems creates profound strategic vulnerabilities. His transactional diplomacy revealed that even allies can face pressure or coercion if their capabilities depend on external suppliers.

Finland’s Prime Minister recently voiced this candidly in a statement that resonated across defence circles. Acknowledging American fighter jets’ sophistication, he admitted they cannot operate against US wishes. Ownership, in other words, does not equate to control—a viral reminder of imported platforms’ hidden strings.

The ramifications are far-reaching. Nations building their air forces or armies around imported—or even locally assembled—systems grant leverage to original equipment manufacturers (OEMs) and supplier states. This control manifests subtly: delayed spares, withheld software updates, denied maintenance, restricted integrations, or invoked export laws.

Modern fighter jets exemplify this fragility. These marvels integrate complex software, sensors, avionics, and engines into seamless ecosystems. A single supply-chain hiccup can ground fleets without a shot fired—far more effective than any mythical “kill switch,” whose existence is secondary to practical levers.

India knows this vulnerability intimately. The TEJAS MK-1, despite milestones, hinges on the GE-404 engine. Recurrent delays from GE have snarled production and squadron inductions, amplifying internal hurdles. Such episodes underscore why India accelerates indigenous aero-engines and pursues deeper tech transfers, as with Safran for AMCA.

Outsourcing core technologies like jet engines proves untenable long-term. Proponents of imports tout Russia’s flexibility—offering Su-57s with production leeway—or France’s autonomy via Rafale. Yet history shows state friendships are transactional, driven by national interest over sentiment.

Trump’s overtures to NATO allies shattered illusions of unwavering partnerships. India’s reported pursuit of 114 Rafales highlights the bind: a stopgap amid squadron shortages from Tejas delays and legacy retirements. It is necessity, not strategy—a choice between a well and a precipice.

Licensed production offers false comfort. Assembling abroad-designed platforms in India barely dilutes risks if engines or key components fall under foreign controls. Sweden’s Gripen-E illustrates this: its GE-F414 engine triggers US-ITAR oversight, vetoing exports—like the thwarted Colombian sale amid threats of supply cuts.

Such cases affirm a brutal axiom: without dominion over critical technologies, sovereignty eludes grasp. India’s Atmanirbhar Bharat in defence transcends ideology; it is imperatives forged in realism. Indigenous programs do not spurn imports but safeguard against conflicts arbitrated in distant capitals.

Self-reliance demands patience, vast investment, and endurance amid setbacks. DRDO and HAL’s travails with TEJAS or Kaveri fuel frustration, yet progress mounts: TEJAS MK-1A nears full operational clearance, MK-2 advances, and AMCA prototypes loom. These are not relics of inefficiency but foundations of autonomy.

India’s context amplifies urgency. Border tensions with China expose import frailties—recall 2020 Galwan disruptions in spares. Pakistan’s JF-17, co-developed with China, grants flexibility denied by Western vetoes. Indigenous capability ensures deterrence unhampered by geopolitics.

Strategic partnerships evolve wisely. GE’s F414 co-production for TEJAS MK-2 transfers 80% tech, building Kaveri successors. Safran’s AMCA role promises similar gains. These are bridges to independence, not crutches.

Critics overlook maturation curves. The US F-35 took 20 years and billions; Russia’s Su-57 lags similarly. India’s trajectory—Tejas from prototype to IOC in 32 years—mirrors this, accelerated by private sector infusion.

In missiles, Akash-NG and Nag variants prove export-worthy. Drones like Tapas and Ghatak herald swarm autonomy. Naval strides—Vikrant carrier, Project 75I subs—extend the logic seaward.

The alternative? Perpetual vulnerability. A 2035 IAF at 42 squadrons, half imported, invites leverage in crises—US sanctions, Russian distractions in Ukraine, French realignments. Indigenous fleets ensure control aligns with New Delhi’s will.

Finland’s epiphany mirrors India’s: Europe awakens to US dominance in F-35 fleets. Australia’s AUKUS pivot hedges submarine risks. Globally, multipolarity incentivises self-reliance; India, with its Quad heft and neighbourhood threats, cannot lag.

Thus, mocking indigenous programs misses the forest for trees. They are not flawless but essential—insurance against blackmail, enablers of strategy. Short-term imports bridge gaps; long-term sovereignty demands unyielding commitment.

India must discard defeatism. Beyond slogans, political will must back funding, streamline acquisition, and nurture ecosystems. The cost of dependence dwarfs self-reliance’s pains. In warfare’s calculus, control trumps ownership. Without indigenous might, true security remains a mirage.

Agencies