Opinion
Wed 17 Sep
This article has been published with: London’s identity in question, are Indians at risk?
On a September weekend, central London became a stage of tense spectacle. A tide of Union Jacks and St George’s crosses swept through the streets, led by far-right activist Tommy Robinson under the banner of “Unite the Kingdom.” More than 1,50,000 people reportedly participating, this was one of Britain’s largest anti-immigration demonstrations in recent years.
What transpired was more than a protest. It was a reminder that immigration has become the flashpoint of our times, capable of mobilizing crowds, unsettling governments and shaping the future of millions including the large Indian diaspora. The question many are quietly asking now is: Should Indians be worried?
Indians are the largest non-UK ethnic group in London, numbering over 6,50,000 in Greater London. British Indians own over 65,000 businesses in the UK, contributing to roughly £60 billion annually to tits economy. Almost 1 in 10 NHS doctors in the UK is of Indian origin. Whereas, Indian students make up one of the largest international student groups in the UK, with more than 1,40,000 Indian students enrolled in British universities in 2023-24, bringing billions in tuition and local spending.
The rally was framed as a show of patriotism, but immigration was the central grievance. Placards blared “Send them home” and “Stop the boats.” The rhetoric was unmistakably hostile towards migrants, particularly Muslims, though the undertone extended to anyone perceived as an “outsider.” Violence erupted when protestors clashed with police, injuring 26 officers.
London’s Muslim population is around 15%, heavily concentrated in boroughs like Newham, Tower Hamlets and Brent. Far-right activists portray this concentration as a “threat to British identity.”
Debates around halal food in schools, mosque construction or visible symbols like the hijab are exploited by right-wing groups as evidence of cultural erosion. Wars in Afghanistan, Syria and more recently the Israel-Gaza conflict have fed into anti-Muslim sentiment with Muslims abroad often conflated with Muslims at home.
Prime Minister Keir Starmer condemned the march as divisive, insisting Britain “will not surrender its flag to those who use it as a symbol of fear.” But the event’s scale, intensity and rapid spread across social media suggested something deeper: anti-immigration sentiment is no longer fringe. It is mainstreaming.
Economic anxieties, housing shortages and stretched public services are easy scapegoats. Security concerns, often fuelled by sensationalist reporting, add another layer. But perhaps the most significant driver is political entrepreneurship, activists like Robinson know how to weaponise frustration into mobilisation. Online misinformation then turbocharges the anger, transforming digital discontent into street protests.
London’s rally is part of a global pattern. Just last month, tens of thousands marched in Australia under the banner of “March for Australia,” while protests over asylum housing have surged in the United States. Across Europe, demonstration in Berlin, Warsaw, and Dublin echo similar themes. Migration politics is now transnational, and Britain’s far-right plugged into these global currents.
For Indians, the implications are complicated. On the one hand, the Indian diaspora in the UK is one of the country’s most successful immigrant communities being economically stable, politically active and culturally visible. But success does not immunise against xenophobia.
History has shown how quickly minorities can become collateral damage when anti-immigration rhetoric boils over.
Indians may not be specific targets of Robinson’s campaign, but visibility itself is enough. Past attacks on Indian students in Australia and racist assaults on South Asian workers in the UK illustrates how quickly resentment can translate into violence.
Beyond physical safety, social climate matters as well. Discrimination in jobs, housing, or even public spaces can intensify during such surges. For young students and workers without strong community support, this can be isolating.
India has often had to step in when its nationals abroad face hostility. Advisories, consular interventions and public outcry in India can strain ties with the host nations.
It is not alarmist to say that Indians should be cautious. But caution must not turn into a constant fear. After all, Britain is also a place where Indian-origin leaders hold office, where Bollywood films run in packed theatres and where Indian businesses thrive. Even its official national dish, chicken tikka masala, has Indian roots, a reminder of how deeply the community has shaped British life.
The chants of “we want our country back” are not just about border control, they reflect an identity crisis in Western democracies struggling to balance globalisation with local anxieties. For Britain, this identity debate is especially charged post-Brexit. The promise of taking back control of borders was a defining feature of the Leave campaign, yet migration numbers remain high due to labour shortages.
Far-right figures are now exploiting this perceived “failure” to whip up anger.
Well, Indian in the UK and elsewhere should respond with awareness rather than fear by staying alert to their surroundings, keeping close to community networks and recognising when immigration becomes a political flashpoint. For students and young professionals, this means being prepared for shifts in visa rules or public mood that can arise during election seasons.
At the same time, India’s diplomatic role will grow in importance. Protecting its citizens abroad must remain central to its foreign policy.
Anti-immigration marches may chant “send them home,” but the truth is Indians have already made Britain their home. From students to entrepreneurs, they contribute to the economy, culture and public life. As long as they remain as asset, not a threat, to the society they live in they should not be worried, though they must remain watchful of shifting political winds.
Nepal’s double uprising: Revolt and exodus
Opinion
Fri 12 Sep
This article has been published with Nepal’s double uprising: Revolt and exodus
Nepal is today at an inflection point. The Himalayan republic, long accustomed to political instability has rarely faced a moment this stark: the biggest youth revolt in its history colliding with the largest exodus of its people abroad. The first is noisy, combustible and impossible to ignore. The second is quieter, but no less devastating. Both are rebellions, different in form but identical in essence, against a state that has failed to deliver.
The eruption of protests last month, triggered by a government ban on 26 social media platforms, was unlike anything Nepal has seen in decades. What began as an outrage over digital censorship spiralled into a generational uprising. Demonstrations spread across all 77 district capitals, claiming at least 19 lives in Kathmandu alone.
Parliament and power centres burned, five former Prime Minister’s residences were vandalised, and Rajyalaxmi Chitrakar, wife of former PM Jhala Nath Khanal, died from severe burns after her house was torched. While Finance Minister Dhakal was stripped and paraded in public; Foreign Minister Deuba sustained injuries.
This was not the palace intrigue of the past, nor the elite factional battles Nepalis have grown weary of. This was something more, a mass demand for accountable governance, credible constitutional reform and institutions that inspire trust. For Nepal’s Gen Z, the ban on TikTok or WhatsApp was merely the spark. The fire has been smouldering for years, fuelled by corruption, inequality and the absence of dignified work opportunities.
A day after police opened fire on young demonstrators, Kathmandu was engulfed in flames. Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli resigned, and President Ram Chandra Paudel went into hiding under army protection.
The ban on social media was hastily lifted, but the damage was already done. The youth of Nepal had issued their verdict: The system is broken and patience has run out.
Yet, if the protest is a loud rebellion, migration is the quite one, perhaps even more telling. More than 4,00,000 Nepalis leave each year, an average of 10,000 departures a day. They hollow out the very demographic that should be building Nepal’s future, sustaining their families and the economy through remittances while abandoning the political order they no longer believe in.
The absent, in effect, are financing a system they refuge to inhabit. World Bank report underlines this paradox—82 per cent of Nepal’s workforce remains trapped in informal employment, far above global and regional averages. For many, leaving is less of a choice than an act of survival.
Nepal’s politics have long been a theatre of instability. Fourteen governments since 2008; none completing a full term. The Maoist insurgency of 1996 claimed 17,000 lives in its attempt to overthrow the monarchy. The 2008 abolition of the royal order was supposed to herald a people’s republic. The 2015 constitution was hailed as a landmark. And yet, KP Sharma Oli, a nationalist, populist, survivor, cycled in and out of office four times between 2015 and 2024 only to fall once again in 2025.
The pattern is depressingly familiar, tactical manoeuvring among three dominant parties, the Nepali Congress, CPN-UML and the Maoist Centre at the expense of structural reform.
Pushpa Kamal Dahal (Prachanda) continues his balancing act. Sher Bahadur Deuba struggles for relevance. Meanwhile, power circulates among the same aging elites, their children flaunting privilege on social media while ordinary citizens struggle with unemployment, rising costs, and climate vulnerability. The gap between rulers and ruled has become unbridgeable.
For Gen Z, who have grown up on promises of democracy but experiences little of its substance, this political theatre has lost all legitimacy. “Nepobabies” trend online as shorthand for the dynastic impunity of Nepal’s political class. What matters to them is not ideology but the lived reality of jobs, dignity and opportunity, all of which are in short supply.
This convergence of revolt and exodus is existential. A country that loses its youth either to martyrdom in the streets or to migration risks eroding its national security.
The government’s use of excessive force did not just provoke fury; it confirmed suspicions that the system is corrupt, stagnant and unwilling to listen. The resignation of Oli only deepens the vacuum, inviting shifting alliances that promise more of the same paralysis.
And here lies the danger, rebellion without reform hardens despair. If the protests fizzle into yet another cycle of unstable governments, while the exodus continues unabated, Nepal risks hollowing itself out.
For India, Nepal’s turbulence is not a distant spectacle but a pressing concern. The movement of people and ideas across the border are too close to break. Instability in Nepal inevitably spills into Bihar, Uttar Pradesh, Sikkim and Uttarakhand. A large-scale exodus would intensify pressure that India is already struggling with, such as employment shortages, social friction and migration management.
The fall of Oli bears uncomfortable parallels with Bangladesh last year, where the collapse of the Sheikh Hasina government left spaces for anti-India narratives to flourish. If New Delhi mishandles its engagement with Kathmandu, it risks a similar backlash. The stakes are stark, a neighbour either renewed or unravelled.
India cannot dictate Nepal’s fate. But it can choose to engage wisely. That means listening not just to Kathmandu’s elites but to Nepal’s youth, who are demanding accountability, opportunity and dignity. It means demonstrating through aid, trade and people-to-people ties, that India hears Nepal’s young voices rather than ignoring them. And it means resisting the temptation to back shifting political alliances without regard for their democratic legitimacy.
For Nepal, the way forward requires more than cosmetic changes. The constitution of 2015 must be reinvigorated with credible reforms that strengthen institutions and protect rights. Parties must rise above tactical rivalry and commit to structural transformation such as education reform, job creation, curbing corruption and making government transparent.
For India, the imperative is to support Nepal’s democratic renewal, not its decay. This is not merely about geopolitics or China’s growing footprint in South Asia. It is about the recognition that when a Neighbour’s youth cry out in the streets or by leaving, it is a cry that reverberates across borders.
Nepal today stands at a crossroads. If its leaders keep fighting among themselves while the youth either protest on the streets or leave the country, Nepal risks becoming a republic without a future. But if both the loud revolt and the quiet rebellion are taken seriously, the country still has a chance to rebuild itself.
For India, the choice is just as clear, it can either watch a neighbour fall apart or engage in a way that gives Nepal’s youth a hope.
The stakes are bigger than Nepal alone. Its repercussions will affect the neighbours too and they must act very carefully.
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The temple is just a surface, the real fight is deeper
Opinion
Sun 27 Jul
It’s the same year and another conflict has escalated. But this time, it wasn’t where the world was looking. While eyes remained fixed on Ukraine or Gaza, a conflict erupted in the far east between two southeast Asian neighbours: Thailand and Cambodia.
There has been no shortage of headlines, calling it a “religious war”, a “Hindu temple clash,” a “culture conflict.” But let’s not be misled by the simplicity of slogans. The escalating conflict between Thailand and Cambodia may have reignited around the Preah Vihear temple but to call this war over a temple is to misunderstand both history and the present moment.
The truth is messier and far more political. The temple is very ancient and sacred. But it is not solely a Hindu site. The conflict is not solely about faith, it is about territory, military positioning, and unresolved trauma from colonial cartography. Religion, in this case is the backdrop not the battleground.
The Preah Vihar temple, a UNESCO World Heritage site perched atop the Dângrek Mountains, was handed over to Cambodia in a 1962 ruling by the International Court of Justice (ICJ). But the 4.6 square kilometres surrounding it were left undefined becoming symbolically sensitive and contested ever since.
The roots of this hostility stretch back over a century. In 1907, French colonisers drew the border between Cambodia and Thailand with ambiguous, imprecise maps. Thailand has long argued that the boundary was unfairly set. Diplomatic attempts have flickered over the decades, but resolution has never arrived. Instead, blood has.
Between 2008 and 2013, the dispute exploded into deadly skirmishes. Jungle warfare flared near Preah Vihear and other temple sites, with both sides blaming each other. In 2011, a ceasefire halted the violence, after 15 people were killed and thousands displaced. The International Court of Justice (ICJ) stepped in, ordering a troop withdrawal and establishment of a demilitarised zone but stopped short of settling who controls the larger disputed territory. The troops never really left.
Presently, in 2025, the fire has been lit again.
On May 28, a Thai soldier was ambushed. Tensions, already high, turned volatile. A Cambodian soldier was killed in a subsequent skirmish. Accusations flew and each side blamed the other. Later, in June diplomatic call between Thai Prime Minister Paetongtarn Shinawatra and Cambodia’s de facto leader, Hun Sen aimed to dial things down. However, it only made matters worse.
A leaked recording of the call went viral. In it, Prime Minister Shinawatra appeared to disparage her own military and referred to Hun Sen as “uncle,” offering to “arrange anything” he wanted. The reaction in Thailand was explosive. Lawmakers from her own party called for her resignation. On July 1, she was suspended by Thailand’s Constitutional court for alleged ethics violation.
Meanwhile, the war on the ground intensified. On July 23, a Thai soldier lost a leg in a landmine blast. Thailand retaliated, not only militarily but diplomatically recalling it’s ambassador and expelling Cambodia’s. Phnom Penh responded in kind. By the time artillery fire echoed across the forests, at least 12 people were reported dead, including 11 civilians and more than 40,000 villagers had fled their homes. Schools and markets were shut down. The fear of unexploded landmines once again gripped the region.
The fog of war has now thickened. Neither side’s account of the fighting matches the other’s. Thailand claims Cambodian trooped deployed surveillance drones and fired rockets near a Thai post striking civilian areas. While Thailand responded with six F-16 fighter jets targeting the latter’s military positions. Clashes erupted in six locations along the border, and Thailand reinforced it’s positions in Sisaket province. Acting Thai Prime Minister Phumtham Wechayachai insists there has been “no declaration of war” but warns that hostilities must stop before talks can begin. However, danger goes well beyond these two nations.
Southeast Asia is already on the edge, from civil war in Myanmar to tensions in the South China Sea, another full-blown war, this time between ASEAN members threatens to expose the limits of regional diplomacy. ASEAN has long prided itself on “quiet consensus,” but in moments like this, that consensus sounds suspiciously like silence.
The memory of the 2008–2011 standoff, which left over 40 dead, looms over this moment. Back then, too, there were ceasefires and court orders. But even after the dust settled, nothing changed. Today, we risk repeating history only at a greater cost.
Leaders on both sides have portrayed the skirmishes as matters of sovereignty and pride, but at the heart of it, this isn’t just about lines on a map, but people caught in crossfire of pride and power. The only question now is, how many more borders will bleed just to keep maps clean, while real lives are erased on the ground?
India and UK turns a new page
Opinion
Sat 26 Jul
After years of deadlocked talks under three Conservative Prime Ministers, India chose not the familiar, but the functional. It was not based on shared heritage but shared goals. And so, it was under Keir Starmer and not Rishi Sunak that India finally signed one of it’s most ambitious Free Trade Agreements.
Modi’s decision to bet on a recalibrated Labour speaks volumes. The question isn’t why India didn’t sign this deal earlier. The question is: why now, and why Starmer?
Despite a decade-long Conservative rule, the FTA had remained elusive. The Boris Johnson government launched the 2030 roadmap in 2021, which promised deeper ties across trade, defence and innovation. But symbolic gestures often outpaced substance. The Conservative era stretching from Johnson to Liz Truss to Rishi Sunak, often celebrated It’s ‘special relationship’ with India but while language was warm, the outcomes remained lukewarm.
Negotiations on the FTA began with high ambition, but soon encountered roadblocks. Key issues such as the movement of Indian professionals, mutual market access and labour mobility remained unresolved. The UK’s domestic debates on immigration, especially post Brexit created hesitations that made meaningful compromise politically complex.
While Sunak’s Indian heritage was treated as an implicit bridge, policy progress remained cautious. The FTA talks continued, but no major agreements were concluded during his tenure. Despite his visit to India during the 2023 G20 Summit and a public willingness to deepen ties, a reciprocal state visit from the Indian side never really took place.
Labour’s return to power in 2024 marked a turning point in how India perceived UK’s political climate. From 2021 onwards, Starmer’s leadership emphasised a more balanced and bilateral approach. He distanced Labour from diaspora-driven resolutions and refrained from commenting on India’s internal matters. A gesture New Delhi has welcomed. By the time Labour’s election manifesto was released, there was a clear shift in tone: no mention of contentious issues, and a strong focus on trade, investment and cooperation.
This course correction wasn’t seen as diplomatic hygiene, but it truly changed the atmosphere. It allowed both sides to return to the table with clarity and mutual trust. Long-stuck issues like skilled migration, tech exchange, education linkages and defence co-production finally found room to breathe. The tone shifted from hesitation to possibility.
This agreement also comes at a time when India is actively rebalancing it’s external partnerships. With Washington re-entering a cycle of unpredictability, India isn’t putting all it’s chips on old alliances. Instead, it’s expanding its bandwidth by seeking stable, policy-driven partners who offer long-term value without theatrics.
India signed high-impact FTA’s with the UAE and Australia to clinching an economic agreement with the European Free Trade Association(EFTA). Each of these deals reflect not just commercial intent, but a future-facing alignment.
The UK now enters this circle not as a sentimental choice, but as a re-evaluated partner that fits India’s calibrated worldview. At the same time, Modi’s parallel diplomatic choreography says even more. His visit to the Maldives reinforces India’s renewed focus on neighbourhood diplomacy, while his recent engagement with China- the first high-level visit since the Galwan clash signals a cautious but important attempt to manage regional tensions.
Unlike the earlier chapters of India-UK engagement, which was often defined by grand cultural displays, diaspora pageantry, and speeches laced with heritage, this visit stripped away the sentimentality. What emerged was a relationship finally ready to stand on it’s own terms.
Both sides seemed to quietly step past the weight of history. For decades, the relationship had often swung between romanticising the past and hesitating because of it, usually caught between post-colonial discomfort and nostalgia-driven diplomacy. However this time, there was not attempt to overplay identity, ancestry or symbolism.
This FTA wasn’t born in a moment of goodwill, it came from years of careful watching, waiting and preparing for a window that felt right. India didn’t rush, it waited for a government that was aligned institutionally.
Modi’s visit under Starmer is more than a mere handshake, it’s a reset. It reflected a larger truth that India and UK have finally outgrown their need to define the relationship by the past. The colonial chapter will always exist, but it no longer needs to dominate the page.
Skyfall: Turbulent skies in 2025
Opinion
Thu 24 Jul
The year 2025 has shaken the aviation industry out of its illusion of invincibility. Despite decades of advancement, and rigorous safety protocols that flying remains the safest mode of travel, the skies have turned turbulent in more ways than one.
The most devastating blow came on January 29, 2025 when American Airlines Flight 5342, a Bombardier CRJ700, collided mid-air with a US Army Sikorsky UH-6 Black Hawk helicopter near Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport. The crash claimed 67 lives reminding us that even in the most advanced aviation systems in the world, something can go terribly wrong. “This was not just a tragic mistake; it was a wake-up call,” said Jennifer Homendy, Chair of the US National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB), addressing the press after the preliminary findings were released.
What followed through the rest of 2025 was not a scattered series of unrelated crashes, but a global pattern of technical failures, emergency landings, fires, near-misses and fatal accidents that shook public confidence and raised urgent questions.
India’s aviation sector, which has long been praised for rapid growth, is facing a storm of technical snags, safety violations and operational failures. The most fatal moment came with the ill-fated Air India crash earlier this year in Ahmedabad. The Aircraft Accident Investigation Bureau (AAIB) report revealed a disturbing detail; just seconds after take-off, fuel to both engines was found in CUTOFF mode. The cockpit voice recording reportedly captured a tense exchange where one pilot asked, “Why did you cut off?” referring to the fuel supply to both engines, only to be met with confusion from the co-pilot.
Now, aviation experts argue that such a fuel cutoff happens by accident. If that’s true, the incident hints at either a chilling human error or an even deeper systemic failure. Either way, this tragedy feels less like an anomaly and more like a red flag waving at a much larger problem. The urgency with which Directorate General of Civil Aviation (DGCA) is now reviewing safety protocols suggests that even regulators know something has been slipping through the cracks.
Adding to this alarm, July 22 brought yet another unsettling event. Air India Flight AI 315, arriving from Hong Kong, caught fire after landing in Delhi. Thankfully, no injuries were reported, but the visuals of black smoke surfacing online were enough to rattle public confidence further. At this point, it feels less like isolated misfortunes and more like a pattern of operational neglect.
An Air India spokesperson tried to downplay the incident, attributing the fire to “overheating of electrical components” and insisting that passenger safety was never at risk. But for the average flyer, this assurance rings hollow. Because even if lives weren’t lost, trust surely was.
The problems don’t end here. Over the last few weeks alone, IndiGo, India’s largest airline, has reported multiple in-flight emergencies and technical glitches to viral videos showing malfunctioning ACs on packed flights. An IndiGo flight from Goa to Indore reported a snag right before landing. Another one bound for Imphal had to return to Delhi mid-air. A third flight from Chandigarh to Lucknow was cancelled after pilots detected faults during pre-flight checks. The list keeps growing. Passengers have voiced fear and frustration, with one traveller tweeting, “Flying used to be a routine, now it feels like a gamble.”
The government can’t entirely downplay the growing concerns. In a written reply to the Parliament, the Civil Aviation Ministry admitted that Air India alone had received nine safety violation notices in recent months. Yet, the official line remains that there’s “no adverse trend” in overall safety reports. That reassurance feels increasingly hollow as fresh incidents continue to surface almost weekly.
As the monsoon session of the Parliament begins, the timing couldn’t be more telling. On the opening day of the session, Civil Aviation Minister Ram Mohan Naidu assured the house that the probe into the crash remains “rule-based” and “unbiased.” He urged the Parliament to “respect the process” and trust the Aircraft Accident Investigation Bureau (AAIB), which successfully decoded black boxes.
However, in a climate of rising fear, growing opacity and repeated technical failures, the public needs more than just procedural reassurances. What this moment truly demands is not just patience, but radical transparency, accountability and visible action.
One is left wondering, how many more “technical snags” will it take before India’s aviation industry acknowledges that these aren’t mere bumps in the journey, but signs of a deeper credibility crisis that demands urgent attention?
Well, zooming out there are several disturbing symmetries in other countries as well. Recently, Bangladesh suffered one of its darkest aviation moment, when a fighter jet crashed into a school, killing 27, mostly children. The aircraft was Chinese-made, a model long under scrutiny for mechanical issues. In Philadelphia, a Learjet crash caused a residential explosion, killing seven. While earlier, in South Korea, an Airbus A321 caught fire moments before take-off. In South Sudan as well, a Beechcraft 1900 crash killed 20. These are not isolated events; they are symptoms of a global industry pushed to its limits.
The aviation crisis of 2025 is not rooted in a single cause, it’s a fallout of a deeply overstretched system struggling with layered, compounding pressures. Technical and mechanical failures, like engines shutdowns, faulty fuel control systems, have become disturbingly frequent. These are often linked to delayed maintenance, shortage of replacement parts and an industry willing to overlook “minor” defects to keep planes flying in the sky.
Add to this the human element: pilot errors, often caused by crew fatigue, irregular schedules and chronic understaffing of cockpit and ground teams that remain the leading causes of aviation accidents worldwide. Then comes the cyber and systemic threats, from digital outages and GPS spoofing, which were meant to make flying safer, not riskier.
On top of this, climate change is playing an invisible but deadly role, intensifying turbulence and creating hazardous flying conditions, particularly during take-off and landing. The geopolitical landscape, too, has become a factor, aircrafts flying over conflict zones face not only navigational uncertainty but also sabotage strikes.
So where does one go from here? These waves of disasters demand something bigger, fixing this isn’t just about tweaking policies or releasing carefully worded investigation reports. Regulators like the ICAO, DGCA and EASA must step beyond audits and enforce real-time accountability, increased investment, publicly accessible safety records and stricter timelines for aircraft maintenance.
Because at the end of the day, this isn’t just about planes but a common man boarding a flight with the expectation of arriving safely. The stakes are terrifyingly real. We cannot afford another “wake-up call.” This industry must act before confidence falls from 35,000 feet and take lives with it.
The skies are not just turbulent; they are sending a warning. The only question now is “who’s listening?”
A strategic reset between India and China
Opinion
Mon 21 Jul
This article has been published at: https://newsarenaindia.com/opinion/a-strategic-reset-between-india-and-china/50882
While decades of mistrust and unresolved disputes remain, the current global posture is shifting fast and not in a direction either side can afford to ignore.
The relationship between two of Asia’s biggest powers have never been easy, nor it has ever been truly broken. Both India and China have existed in a strange state of limbo. After years of mistrust, border skirmishes and diplomatic cold shoulders, signs of slow but deliberate thaw are emerging.
With External Affairs Minister S. Jaishankar’s recent visit to Beijing for the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) foreign minister’s council meeting, the first such interaction since the Galwan Valley clash in 2020, the diplomatic signals are clear: dialogue is back on the table.
Add to this, Defence Minister Rajnath Singh’s meeting with his Chinese counterpart in Qingdao where he laid out his four-point proposal to resolve border crisis: disengagement, de-escalation, delimitation and dialogue also highlights India’s intent to lower the temperature.
The question is whether China is equally committed and whether both nations can move beyond crisis management toward a sustainable, more functional relationship.
While decades of mistrust and unresolved disputes remain, the current global posture is shifting fast and not in a direction either side can afford to ignore. At the heart of this recalibration is a shared strategic vulnerability: growing pressure from the United States. Washington has recently warned of tariffs and secondary sanctions on countries continuing close economic ties with Russia. This is not a veiled threat, it is a direct signal to nations like India and China, who together now account for more than 80 per cent of the sea-borne crude oil exported by Russia.
Neither Delhi nor Beijing wants to be seen as isolated from the West, nor do they want to sacrifice their long-standing energy partnerships. If both nations want to preserve their strategic autonomy, they must de-risk confrontation and begin to engage seriously, not just ceremonially.
On the other hand, the issue of Tibet and Taiwan continues to be an unspoken landmine. The Dalai Lama’s presence in India remains a point of anxiety for Beijing as well. It has repeatedly sought reaffirmation of India’s commitment to the ‘one China policy’.
The issue also represents a deeper ideological discomfort that colours this relationship – India’s democratic ethos versus China’s authoritarian assertiveness.
Economically, the relationship looks robust on paper but deeply lop-sided. India’s trade deficit with China is over $99.2 billion, and market access remains a sore point. Restrictions over rare earth magnets for EVs to India, wind turbines, electronics, and high-value fertilisers have raised fresh concerns.
Despite these issues, in a sign of soft diplomacy, there has been resumption of the Kailash Mansarover Yatra after a five-year suspension, the possibility of direct flights to be resumed, visa processes being relaxed, and Beijing opening up to Indian journalists. These are not just symbolic niceties; they signal that both sides are exploring an incremental reset.
Geopolitically, both countries remain wary of each other. China sees India’s deepening ties with the Quad as part of a containment strategy. India views with caution Beijing’s strategic alignment with Pakistan and Bangladesh, which has been formalised through new groupings like the China-Pakistan-Bangladesh trilateral cooperation forum.It is clear that both neighbours are arming, aligning and posturing and both understand that this is not just about bilateral mistrust, but regional dominance.
At the same time, India has voiced unease over China’s political signalling, particularly its continued closeness to Pakistan.
Yet, it would be unfair to suggest that consensus remains impossible. In fact, one of the biggest shifts in 2024 has come at the multilateral level and it deserves more attention. The recent BRICS Summit in Kazan saw, for the first time, a joint declaration that explicitly condemned the terrorist attack in Jammu and Kashmir, rejected safe havens for terror groups, and called out “double standards” in counter-terrorism.
After the 2008 Mumbai attacks, BRICS leaders failed to even mention the incident, a silence that rankled in India. It was only in 2017 that BRICS joint declaration finally named Pakistan-based groups like Lashkar-e-Taiba and Jaish-e-Mohammad. This, therefore shows that both India and China can find common ground at least if not directly, but within a multi-lateral framework.
India and China relations may never be smooth. Historical baggage, competing ambitions and mutual suspicion are unlikely to vanish overnight. However, diplomacy doesn’t require harmony, it requires commitment to process, respect for red lines and a space for compromise.
In a world which is already so fractured by great-power competition and protectionism, Asia’s two largest economies cannot afford to stumble into another confrontation. If they fail to manage their differences, the consequences will not remain confined to the Himalayas but ripple across Asia and beyond.
A fully functional relationship between India and China is no longer a diplomatic luxury, instead it is a geopolitical imperative.
India’s central axis with Europe
Opinion
Thu 26 Jun
This article has been published at: India’s central axis with Europe
Modi’s seemingly modest visit to Croatia and Cyprus reflects a larger ambition, to solidify India’s presence not only in Western Europe but in its Central and Eastern neighbourhoods as well.
In diplomacy, symbolism often speaks louder than words. Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s recent visit to Croatia and Cyprus, his first ever overseas engagement after Operation Sindoor was not only a matter of bilateral warmth, but a message in motion. A symbolic gesture layered with intent, this was Modi’s maiden visit to Croatia and a reaffirmation of enduring bonds with Cyprus, a country that has emerged as one of India’s most dependable friends in the Mediterranean.
Though both are not economic giants of the European Union, but it represents a strategic outreach toward Central, Eastern and Southern Europe regions increasingly aligned with India’s European calculus.
As India and the European Union race towards finalising a long-awaited Free Trade Agreement (FTA) by the end of 2025, PM Modi’s choice of the destination sends a message to Brussels: New Delhi is not just looking West, it is looking deeper.
Croatia and Cyprus, both members of the 27-nation bloc, are integral to India’s expanding diplomatic chessboard in Europe. New Delhi is now trying to build political capital across the EU spectrum to smoothen the road for economic integration, regulatory convergence and strategic synergy.
Modi’s visit to Croatia was punctuated by several substantive outcomes. First, an MoU on agriculture and allied sectors, renewed cultures exchange programmes, re-establishment of the ICCR Hindi Chair at the University of Zagreb, and a cooperation programme in science and technology. These are not just headline-grabbing agreements, but they represent the slow, steady stitching together of long-term cultural and academic partnerships.
On the other hand, Cyprus has also long stood by India on issues that matter. Be it consistently supporting India’s bid for a permanent seat at the UN Security Council (UNSC) or backing India’s civil nuclear cooperation within global frameworks. President of Cyprus, Nikos Christodoulides, has proven to be a reliable ally – principled, persuasive and persistent.
During this visit, Modi expressed heartfelt appreciation for Cyprus’ unflinching support in India’s fight against cross-border terrorism. Cyprus is not just a partner, it is also the Mediterranean gateway, which is a linchpin in the India-EU supply chain that could rival traditional trade routes in significance and scale.
Crucially, the visit came on the heels of European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen’s February visit to New Delhi, where both sides committed to a sweeping agenda spanning critical technologies, supply chain resilience, digital transformation and security. This was preceded by Foreign Minister S. Jaishankar’s tour across France, Germany, Belgium, the Netherlands and Denmark earlier this month, which shows a clear demonstration of India’s prioritisation of its European engagement.
Post the trauma of Russia-Ukraine war, a resurging Trump in the US, and China’s assertive global posture, the EU has been recalibrating its global partnerships. India, with its growing clout in the Indo-pacific, its’ digital prowess and geopolitical independence is an attractive partner not merely for economic purposes, but also for a more balanced world order.
Tracing back to history, the India-EU relationship formalised in the 1960s and elevated to a strategic partnership in 2004, is now being recast as a “Central Axis” in a multipolar world. It is no longer confined to rhetorical commitments, the relationship has entered a new phase of operational convergence, structured by values, economic interests and mutual anxieties about China’s assertiveness and Russia’s unpredictability.
India’s alignment with EU’s Indo-Pacific Oceans Initiative (IPOI) and participation in the EU’s Maritime Security Strategy reveals this intent. In parallel, the Trade and Technology Council (TTC), launched in 2022, has laid the groundwork for cooperation on digital governance, AI, cybersecurity, and data standards areas that will define global power in the coming decades.
India’s UPI systems, accounting for over half the world’s digital transactions, has also drawn interest from Europe’s fintech industry. The EU, long cautious about digital data, sees India as a technological laboratory one that blends together inclusion, scale and innovation. Moreover, EU aims to achieve climate neutrality by 2050, while India has pledged net-zero emissions by 2070. Despite differing timelines, both align on SDG 13 through shared goals of expanding renewable energy and reducing emissions.
For India to transform its European engagement into a transformative alliance, it must deploy a comprehensive, multi-sectoral toolkit, which must include accelerating FTA talks with regulatory flexibility, expanding digital cooperation and joint research in emerging tech, developing migration frameworks for skilled professionals and students and consolidating energy and connectivity corridors like the IMEC.
India must also position itself as a stakeholder in Europe’s strategic future, not just as a market, but as a co-architect of a fairer, more balanced global governance framework.
Modi’s seemingly modest visit to Croatia and Cyprus reflects a larger ambition, to solidify India’s presence not only in Western Europe but in its Central and Eastern neighbourhoods as well.
As the India-EU strategic partnership enters its third decade, the relationship is no longer a side chapter in either’s foreign policy. It is becoming a balancing pole between the transatlantic drift and Indo-Pacific churn.
This article has been published at: Why New Delhi refrained from condemning Israel
By all accounts, the Middle East today stands on a precarious edge. The region has again been jolted by one of the most dangerous escalations. Israel launched a wave of unprecedented attacks on Iran on early Friday, targeting nuclear and military installations deep within Iranian territory, stretching from Tehran to Isfahan and Shiraz. Iranian authorities reported over 80 fatalities, including civilians, nuclear scientists, and top IRGC commanders. Israeli strikes also devastated oil refineries, power grids, and fuel reserves, crippling critical infrastructure. In retaliation, Iran fired hundreds of missiles and drones towards Israeli cities of Tel Aviv and Haifa, killing at least 13 and injuring many more. The tit-for-tat military exchanges have not only deepened regional instability but also derailed nuclear negotiations between Iran and the United States.
Amid these unfolding crisis, the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) of which Iran became a full member in 2023, issued a strong condemnation of Israel accusing it of violating the UN Charter, infringing on Iranian sovereignty, and threatening global peace. Yet, one voice was conspicuously absent from the chorus: India.
New Delhi chose to distance itself from the SCO’s official stance, marking a deliberate silence that reflects it’s increasingly calibrated diplomacy. Rather than endorsing blame, India leaned into it’s now-familiar posture ‘engagement without entanglement.’
Both Iran and Israel are strategic partners for India. Consequently, ties with both nations are not just symbolic but serve vital national interests. India has consistently emphasised it’s “close and friendly relations with both countries,” while also reaffirming it’s readiness to extend support to peacebuilding efforts in the region.
India’s decision is not a lapse of morality, but a product of strategic necessity.
Foreign minister S. Jaishankar conveyed to his Iranian counterpart Seyed Abbas Araghchi that India favours “dialogue, diplomacy and de-escalation.” Yet, he stopped short of criticising Israel, a nation with which India maintains robust defense ties. Israel is India’s second largest arms supplier. From precision-guided munitions to cutting-edge surveillance technology, the relationship is vital for India’s security posture.
At the same time, Iran remains indispensable to India’s connectivity, energy security and regional influence. The Chabahar Port, co-developed by India, is a crucial trade and strategic corridor linking India to Central Asia and Afghanistan, bypassing Pakistan. But India’s relationship with Iran goes far beyond just port engagement. It views Tehran as a major economic partner, and admires Iran’s geographic centrality as a gateway between the Gulf, South Asia and Eurasia.
India’s strategic silence is thus not surprising; it is a continuation of a pragmatic diplomatic tradition. As Kabir Taneja of the Observer Research Foundation aptly describes, India is an ‘outlier insider’ within groupings like the SCO. It participates, influences but preserves its sovereign flexibility.
India’s decision has consistently signalled that it will not allow any multilateral forum, including the United Nations or the SCO, to dictate its national interest. This was also visible most recently in India’s abstention from the June 2025 UN General Assembly resolution calling for a ceasefire in Gaza. While the resolution received overwhelming support amidst humanitarian concerns. India stood apart, choosing not to alienate Israel or compromise its leverage.
This moment also reflects India’s needs to juggle multiple, often competing global partnerships. Publicly siding with Iran could easily jeopardise New Delhi’s ambitions with Washington. At a time when India is negotiating a major trade agreement with Washington and facing threats of 27% tariff on exports, it cannot afford a rupture with it’s western ally.
Moreover, India’s stakes in the Middle East runs deep. The region is home to more than eight million Indian expatriates and remains the primary source of India’s oil imports. A full-scale war between Iran and Israel would not only inflame sectarian tensions across the Gulf, but pose direct economic, political and human consequences for India.
India remaining non-partisan is not hesitation, it is a form of diplomatic insulation from bias and influence. India knows that overt alignment with either side in this high-stakes rivalry would diminish its space for manoeuvre in global diplomacy. Critics may lament India’s lack of condemnation, but clarity often comes at the cost of leverage.
New Delhi has chosen the difficult path of principled pragmatism, it’s strategy of restraint may prove its strongest tool, not to pick sides, but to stay in a position to mediate, influence and protect it’s national interests.
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