THE RISE OF THE INDIAN NAVY

Corbett Centre for Maritime Policy Studies Series

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Studies Department, Joint Services Command and Staff College, UK

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The Rise of the Indian Navy
Internal Vulnerabilities, External Challenges

Edited by
HARSH V. PANT
King’s College London, UK
First published 2012 by Ashgate Publishing

Published 2016 by Routledge

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Copyright © 2012 Harsh V. Pant

Harsh V. Pant has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and
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British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

The rise of the Indian Navy : internal vulnerabilities, external challenges. --
(Corbett Centre for Maritime Policy Studies series)
1. India. Indian Navy--History. 2. India--History, Naval. 3. Sea-power--
India. 4. India--Foreign relations.
I. Series II. Pant, Harsh V.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Pant, Harsh V.
The rise of the Indian Navy : internal vulnerabilities, external challenges /
by Harsh V. Pant.
p. cm. -- (Corbett Centre for maritime policy studies series)
Includes bibliographical references and index.
 ISBN 978-1-4094-3087-2 (hbk) 1. India. Indian Navy. 2. Sea-power--
India. 3. Naval strategy. 4. National security--Indian Ocean Region. 5.
Indian Ocean--Strategic aspects. 6. India--Military policy. I. Title.
VA643.P37 2012
359.00954--dc23
2012018725
ISBN 9781409430872 (hbk)
ISBN 9781315553399 (ebk)
 Contents

List of Figures and Tables

Notes on Contributors
Preface

1 Introduction
Harsh V. Pant

PART I INTERNAL DIMENSIONS

2 Drivers of Indian Naval Expansion

Walter C. Ladwig III

3 The Navy as an Instrument of Foreign Policy: The Indian Experience

C. Uday Bhaskar

4 India’s Aspirational Naval Doctrine

Iskander Rehman

5 Technology and the Indian Navy

K. Raja Menon

PART II EXTERNAL DYNAMIC

6 Sea Dragon at the Doorstep: PLA(N) Modernization and the Indian Navy
Probal Ghosh

7 India in the Indian Ocean: A Mismatch Between Ambitions and

Capabilities?
Harsh V. Pant
8 The US-India Naval Cooperation: Moving Beyond Rhetoric
James R. Holmes

9 Non-State Threats to India’s Maritime Security: Sailing Deeper into an

Era of Violent Peace
Nitin Pai

Index
 List of Figures and Tables

Figures

2.1 Indian naval strength: 1991-2011

2.2 Naval expenditure
2.3 Total defence expenditure
4.1 The Indian Navy’s potential doctrinal and organizational trajectories

Tables

2.1 Qualitative measures: Displacement and missile complement of major

naval platforms
2.2 Development of major Asian navies 1991-2011
4.1 Military objectives, missions and tasks
6.1 A comparison of the number of warships
 Notes on Contributors

Commodore C. Uday Bhaskar, currently Senior Fellow, National

Maritime Foundation, (NMF) New Delhi retired from the Indian Navy in
early 2007 after 37 years’ service. He was until recently Director, National
Maritime Foundation (2009-2011) and earlier with the Institute for Defence
Studies and Analyses (IDSA), New Delhi from 1989 where he served as a
Senior Fellow, Deputy Director (1996-2004) and later headed the Institute
till late 2005. Subsequently he was appointed Member-Secretary of the GOI
Task Force on ‘Global Strategic Developments’ – a report submitted to the
Prime Minister of India. He has edited books on nuclear, naval/maritime
and international security-related issues; and has contributed over 60
research articles to journals in India and abroad. He is a guest lecturer at the
Indian NDC and other military colleges.

Probal Ghosh is presently a Senior Fellow at the Observer Research

Foundation (ORF). He is also the current Co-Chair and India
Representative to the CSCAP International Study Group on Naval
Enhancement in Asia Pacific Region. He was earlier the Co-Chair of the
CSCAP Maritime Study Group (CSCAP – Council for Security
Cooperation in Asia Pacific Region). Prior to joining the ORF in February
2010, Probal had served in various other think tanks. He was a Senior
Fellow at the Centre for Air Power Studies (CAPS): a Founder Member and
the first Senior Research Fellow at the National Maritime Foundation
(NMF) – a think tank that he helped in establishing; held the prestigious
Professor D.S. Kothari DRDO Chair (Kothari Fellow – 2005) at the USI
(United Services Institution); was a Research Fellow at the IDSA (Institute
for Defence Studies and Analyses) for two fellowship tenures. He is the
author of three edited books, monographs and a number of research articles
on issues related to maritime security, asymmetric threats like piracy,
maritime terrorism, Chinese maritime capability, and missile defence.

James R. Holmes is an Associate Professor of Strategy at the Naval War

College, Senior Fellow at the University of Georgia School of Public and
International Affairs, and senior political-military analyst at Energy
Security Associates Inc. A former US Navy surface warfare officer, he was
assigned as military professor at the Naval War College’s College of
Distance Education and as director of a steam engineering course at the
Surface Warfare Officers School Command. On sea duty he served as an
engineering and gunnery officer on board the battleship Wisconsin. He is a
combat veteran of the First Gulf War. Jim is a Phi Beta Kappa graduate of
Vanderbilt University and earned graduate degrees from the Fletcher School
of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University, Providence College and Salve
Regina University. He was the recipient of the Naval War College
Foundation Award in 1994, signifying the top graduate in his class.

Walter C. Ladwig III is a Visiting Fellow at the Royal United Services

Institution and an affiliate of the Corbett Centre for Maritime Policy Studies
at King’s College London. Previously he was the America’s Scholar at
Merton College, Oxford and a pre-doctoral fellow at the Miller Center of
Public Affairs at the University of Virginia. Walter’s work has been
published in International Security, Asian Survey, Comparative Strategy,
Small Wars & Insurgencies, Asian Security, and War in History, in addition
to several chapters in edited volumes. Walter received a BA from the
University of Southern California, an MPA from Princeton University, and
a PhD from the University of Oxford.

Rear Admiral K. Raja Menon (Retired) was a career officer and a

submarine specialist in the Indian Navy and retired in 1994 as the Assistant
Chief of Naval Staff (Operations). His published works include Maritime
Strategy and Continental Wars, a standard text for the Staff College. His
second book, A Nuclear Strategy for India, is recommended reading for the
Indian Strategic Force. His third book, The Indian Navy: A Photo Essay, is
the official gift of the Navy. Admiral Menon was a member of the Arun
Singh Committee and of the National Defence University Committee and
headed the group that wrote the Indian Navy’s New Maritime Strategy. He
recently retired as the Chairman of the Task Force on Net Assessment and
Simulation in the National Security Council, and is a Distinguished Fellow
in the Institute of Peace and Conflict Studies and the National Maritime
Foundation.
Nitin Pai is founder and fellow for geopolitics at the Takshashila
Institution, an independent networked think tank and editor of Pragati –
The Indian National Interest Review, a publication on strategic affairs,
public policy and governance. He is currently a columnist with Business
Standard and DNA and blogs on international affairs and public policy at
The Acorn. Mr Pai was a gold medallist at Singapore’s Lee Kuan Yew
School of Public Policy from where he obtained a Master in Public
Administration (MPA) degree. He is an alumnus of Nanyang Technological
University, Singapore and National College, Bangalore.

Harsh V. Pant is Reader in International Relations at King’s College

London in the Department of Defence Studies. He is also an Associate with
the King’s Centre for Science and Security Studies and an Affiliate with the
King’s India Institute. His current research is focused on Asian security
issues. His most recent books include The China Syndrome: Grappling With
an Uneasy Relationship (HarperCollins), The US-India Nuclear Pact:
Policy, Process, and Great Power Politics (Oxford University Press) and
The Rise of China: Implications for India (Cambridge University Press).

Iskander Rehman is a PhD candidate at the Institute of Political Sciences

in Paris, and a Stanton Nuclear Security Fellow at the Carnegie Endowment
for International Peace in Washington DC. Research for this article was
largely conducted while the author was a Research Fellow at the
Transatlantic Academy of the German Marshall Fund of the United States,
in Washington DC, from 2010 to 2011.
 Preface

As the debate on India’s global rise and its consequences intensifies, there is
a growing focus in the academic and policy worlds on the issues
surrounding India’s much-vaunted defence modernization programme.
India, with the world’s fourth largest military and one of the biggest defence
budgets, has been in the midst of a huge defence modernization programme
for more than a decade now that has seen billions of dollars spent on the
latest high-tech military technology. The nation has embarked on an
ambitious plan to modernize its largely Soviet-era arms since late 1990s as
it started asserting its political and military profile in South Asia and the
Indian Ocean region. This liberal spending on defence equipment has
attracted the interest of Western industry and governments alike and is
changing the scope of the global defence market. It is not surprising then
that India is viewed these days as the new centre for defence procurement.
Defence companies looking to sell ‘big ticket’ items have made India their
favoured destination.
The spending is diverse across all three service branches. Items such as
fighter planes and bombers, transport aircraft, missile systems, aircraft
carriers, helicopters and tanks are all on the list of items India has been
buying over the last few years. In line with India’s broadening strategic
horizons, its military acquisition is seeing a marked shift from conventional
land-based systems to means of power projection such as airborne
refuelling systems and long-range missiles. India is setting up bases abroad,
patrolling the Indian Ocean to counter piracy and protecting the crucial sea-
lanes of communication, and demonstrating a military assertiveness hitherto
not associated with it. The expansion in the Indian naval profile over the
last decade is attracting particular attention. The Indian Navy aims
eventually to become a world-class blue-water navy, equipped to meet
regional challenges and threats and to safeguard its maritime interests. This
volume is an attempt at examining some of the salient internal and external
dimensions of the rise of the Indian Navy.
 This project would not have been possible without the help and support
from a number of people. First of all, my thanks to all the contributors who
were generous with their time and efforts and have waited patiently
throughout the sometimes tortuous process of publication. I would also like
to thank Professor Greg Kennedy of the Defence Studies Department and
the Corbett Centre for Maritime Policy Studies at King’s College London
for encouraging me to publish this volume as part of their Maritime Policy
Studies series. Thanks also to the team at Ashgate for helping me
throughout the process. Finally, a note of gratitude to my family and wife,
Tuhina, in particular, for all their support.
 Chapter 1
Introduction
Harsh V. Pant

The Indian Navy has been gradually emerging as an indispensable tool of

Indian diplomacy in recent years, making it imperative for Indian policy-
makers and naval thinkers to think anew the role of nation’s naval forces in
Indian strategy. There is a long tradition in India of viewing the maritime
dimension of security as central to nation’s strategic priorities. With India’s
economic rise, New Delhi is trying to bring that focus back, making its
navy integral to national grand strategy. While China remains a significant
worry, the bigger problem remains one of introducing organizational
changes and doctrinal evolution. How India manages these issues will be
significant not only for Indian Navy’s future but also for the rise of India as
a credible global military power. The debate on Indian naval issues tends to
revolve around three axes: the China problem, platform acquisitions, and
organizational and doctrinal evolution. The more important debate on the
intellectual basis for the trajectory that Indian Navy should follow remains
largely hidden from the public purview.
Former Indian Chief of Naval Staff and Chairman, Chiefs of Staff
Committee, Admiral Sureesh Mehta, drew a lot of criticism in 2009 when
he suggested that India has neither the ‘capability nor the intention’ to
match China’s military strength ‘force for force’.1 But he was merely stating
the obvious ground reality, given that China’s GDP is more than thrice that
of India and India’s annual defence expenditure is less than half of China’s.
Much of the criticism was unwarranted as Admiral Mehta was probably
trying to wake the Indian political class out of its slumber by forcing it to
think more clearly about the implications of China’s rise for India. His was
a warning about China which is rapidly moving towards the consolidation
of its national power and if India does not move proactively it will find it
almost impossible to catch up with China. Towards this end, he suggested
that India not only has to achieve higher rates of economic growth but it
also needs to build ties with other major global powers and undertake
significant reforms in the defence sector. These steps are necessary as it is
clear that if India has to protect its national interests, it will have to
challenge China’s growing might in its vicinity.
One should look at the euphoria in India surrounding the launch of INS
Arihant, country’s first indigenous nuclear-powered submarine, in 2009 in
this larger context. Though that euphoria is not entirely unwarranted as after
decades of investment, India finally has the ability to indigenously build
and operate a nuclear-powered submarine, a feat accomplished by only five
other countries. It should not blind India to the fact that it has miles to go
before it can catch up with China, which has made some significant
advances in the waters surrounding India. The Chinese Navy, once the
weakest of the three services, is now the focus of attention of the military
modernization programme that is being pursued with utmost seriousness. In
this context, debate on China and platforms is indeed an important one for
India to have but organizational/doctrinal issues are the more important
ones even as the yet-to-evolve debate on intellectual basis for the Indian
naval direction is something that India cannot afford to ignore any longer.
The centre of gravity of global politics is shifting to Asia and major
Asian powers are turning to the seas. The increasing maritime focus of the
Asian nations is a cause as well as an effect of the growing economic
prosperity of these states. In this context, Paul Kennedy has underlined a
global disjuncture with ‘massive differences in the assumptions of the
European nations and Asian nations about the significance of sea power,
toady and into the future’.2
The history of navigation in the Indian Ocean dates back about 2300BC
and India was almost certainly the first country in the Indian Ocean to
possess real battle fleets.3 When India lost command of the sea in the early
sixteenth century, she also for the first time lost her full independence.4 The
birth of the Indian Navy can be traced back to September 1612 when
Britain sent four ships to the western coast of Surat, leading to the
establishment of a force of small ships to be used for local defence to
protect the British trading factories from pirates and Portugal. The small
naval force that evolved over the decades as a result did not have any
combatant role but primarily carried out local defence tasks. Gradual
expansion continued, however, with the intention to organize the naval
force into a combatant force and the Royal Indian Navy came about in
1934.5 At the time of Independence, the Indian naval fleet comprised 4
sloops, 2 frigates, one corvette, 12 fleet mine sweepers, one survey ship,
one naval dockyard and 11,000 men.6 Despite a general understanding
among Indian political elites that it was the littoral dominance by the
European powers that led to their colonial ascendancy in the Indian
heartland, the focus on land frontiers led to the dominance of the Indian
Army in the national security discourse.
Until the end of the Cold War, the maritime dimension of India’s security
did not figure adequately in the national consciousness. Indian policy-
makers did not perceive the advantage of building up nation’s maritime
sinews as the country remained concerned with the north and north-western
frontiers after partition rather than with her sea frontiers. Yet despite the
Indian Navy’s marginalization and the preoccupation of the policy-makers
with safeguarding the integrity of nation’s land frontiers, the Indian Navy
was largely successful in maintaining its presence as a credible naval force
in the region.
India’s naval policy is geared towards ensuring the freedom of
navigation for shipping and safety of sea lines of communication as well as
to safeguard its interests in contiguous waters, Exclusive Economic Zone
(EEZ) and island territories. The Indian Navy would eventually like to
emerge as a world-class blue-water force, equipped to meet regional
challenges and threats and to safeguard India’s maritime interests. India
needs a blue-water navy not only to meet naval threats from China and
Pakistan but also to exploit its strategic location at the centre of the Indian
Ocean as well as to protect its extensive EEZ.
Today, the Indian Navy’s original local sea control and shore defence
orientation, largely focused on preserving the integrity of Indian coastal
waters from regional threats, has given way to a more ambitious naval
posture.

Mahan’s Centrality in the Indian Naval Thought

As India’s global economic and political profile has risen in recent years, it
has also, not surprisingly, tried to define its strategic interests in
increasingly expansive terms. The traditional focus of Indian naval
strategists has been the Indian Ocean region. Indian strategic thinkers have
historically viewed the Indian Ocean as India’s backyard and so have
emphasized the need for India to play a greater role in underwriting its
security and stability. Indian strategic elites have often drawn inspiration
from a quote attributed to Alfred Mahan: ‘Whoever controls the Indian
Ocean dominates Asia. The ocean is the key to seven seas. In the twenty-
first century, the destiny of the world will be decided on its waters’. This
quote, though apparently fictitious, has been highly influential in shaping
the way Indian naval thinkers have looked at the role of the Indian Ocean
for Indian security.7 While sections of the Indian foreign policy
establishment considered India the legatee of the British rule for providing
peace and stability in the Indian Ocean, India’s neighbours remain
concerned about India’s ‘hegemonistic’ designs in the region. As the British
were leaving the subcontinent, its strategists such as Olaf Caroe were
envisioning a natural and inevitable continuing Indian pre-eminence in the
region, as the ‘central constellation from which others in the Indian Ocean
in the long-run are likely to radiate’.8 Indian elites inherited the notions of
maritime primacy, and an expansive definition of a strategic frontier
stretching from Aden to Malacca from the British Raj.
Underlining the importance of Indian Ocean for India, K.M. Pannikar, a
diplomat-historian, called for the Indian Ocean to remain ‘truly Indian’. He
argued that ‘to other countries the Indian Ocean could only be one of the
important oceanic areas, but to India it is a vital sea because its lifelines are
concentrated in that area, its freedom is dependent on the freedom of that
coastal surface’.9 Pannikar was strongly in favour of Indian dominance of
the Indian Ocean region much in the same mould as several British and
Indian strategists viewed India’s predominance of the Indian Ocean as
virtually inevitable. He was unequivocal that the future of India will be
decided on the sea and suggested that ‘a steel ring can be created around
India … within the area so ringed, a navy can be created strong enough to
defend its home-waters, then the waters vital to India’s security and
prosperity can be protected … with the islands of the Bay of Bengal with
Singapore, Mauritius and Socotra, properly equipped and protected and
with a navy based on Ceylon security can return to that part of the Indian
Ocean which is of supreme importance to India’.10 For Pannikar, it would be
‘the primary responsibility of the Indian Navy to guard the steel ring
created by Singapore, Ceylon, Mauritius and Socotra’ and cautioned against
the naval policy of a resurgent China.11
 Another early Indian naval thinker, Keshav Vaidya suggested that India
should try to be the undisputed power over the waters of the Indian Ocean
and towards this end the Indian Navy should become ‘an invincible navy (at
least so far as the Indian Ocean is concerned) … to defend not only her
coast but her distant oceanic frontiers with her own navy’.12 In demanding
an increase in the range of Indian Navy given that ‘the points which must
be within India’s control are not merely coastal, but oceanic … which are
stretched far and wide in all direction’, Vaidya was foreshadowing the
demand for a blue-water long-range navy.13 In tune with Pannikar, he also
advocated an entire range of Indian naval bases all around the Indian Ocean
rim and paid particular attention to China as a potential rival in the Indian
Ocean. In the political realm, Sardar Patel was arguing that ‘the
geographical position and features of India make it inevitable for India to
have … a strong navy to guard its long coastline and to keep a constant
vigil on the vast expanse of the sea that surrounds us’.14
In view of this intellectual consensus, it is surprising that India’s civilian
leadership was able to resist naval expansion in the early years after
Independence. India took its time after Independence to accept her role as
the pre-eminent maritime power in the Indian Ocean region and for long
remained diffident about shouldering the responsibilities that come with
such an acknowledgement. The focus remained on Pakistan and China and
the overarching continental mindset continued to dictate the defence
priorities of the nation with some complaining that the Indian Navy was
being relegated to the background as the most neglected branch of the
armed services.15 As the great powers got involved in the Indian Ocean
during the Cold War years, India’s ability to shape the developments in the
region got further marginalized. India continued to lag behind in its ability
to project power across the Indian Ocean through the early 1990s primarily
due to resource constraints and a lack of a definable strategy. It was rightly
observed that ‘if the Indian Navy seriously contemplates power projection
missions in the Indian Ocean, [the then Indian naval fleet] is inadequate …
it has neither the balance nor the required offensive punch to maintain zones
of influence’.16 India, for its part, continued to demand, without much
success, that ‘extra-regional navies’ should withdraw from the Indian
Ocean, which met with hostility from the major powers and generated
apprehensions in India’s neighbourhood that India would like to dominate
the strategic landscape of the Indian Ocean. India’s larger non-aligned
foreign policy posture also ensured that Indian maritime intentions
remained shrouded in mystery from the rest of the world.
It is only since the late 1990s that India has started to reassert itself in the
Indian Ocean and beyond. This was a period when the Indian government
was asserting that ‘India has a vital stake in the security and stability of the
littoral and island states of the Indian Ocean region. India’s maritime
security is dependent on its capability to effectively patrol, monitor, and
counter illegal activities in the region, be they attempted by national entities
or by sub-national groups’.17 But the Indian naval capability had declined
over the previous decade rendering such statements rather farcical. Indian
naval commanders too acknowledged this vulnerability by underlining their
concerns that naval power projection in the Mahanian mould ‘is not
adequately understood by large sections of our countrymen’.18 Looking at
the Indian naval decay, Western observers were arguing that ‘it may not be
feasible for developing states to sustain a Mahanist momentum’.19 While
the threat from China had already started emerging, it was not clear if the
policy-makers were aware of the time and resource gap that had already
started emerging between India and its nearest rival in the region. As
George Tanham suggested, ‘Indian can visualise a threat from the Chinese
navy which has already ventured into the Indian Ocean, even as “Indian
naval planners are concerned that people do not appreciate how much time
and effort [and finance?] are needed to develop the navy they believe India
will need in the twenty-first century”’.20 When this realization dawned, it
was already too late in many ways but an upward trajectory in the naval
expenditure started emerging, largely driven by two factors: high rates of
economic growth that India has enjoyed since early 1990s as a result of its
economic reforms programme allowing India to invest greater resources to
naval expansion, and a growing concern that China is rapidly expanding its
influence in the Indian Ocean region, something that many in the Indian
strategic community feel would be detrimental to Indian interests in the
long term. And Indian foreign policy debate shifted towards greater
strategic realism, the notion of an extended perimeter of national security
involving the Indian Ocean littoral, the belief that India must undertake a
more purposeful role in the region, and a willingness to devote large
resources for such missions emerged as central to the new discourse.21
Meanwhile, non-traditional threats to global security had grown
exponentially and maritime terrorism, gun-running, drug-trafficking and
piracy emerged as major threats that confronting India from the sea-borders.
Not surprisingly India started making a concerted attempt to enhance its
capabilities to back up its aspiration to play an enhanced naval role in the
Indian Ocean. Jaswant Singh as India’s Foreign Minister gave a rather
expansive definition of Indian strategic interests when he suggested that
‘India’s parameters of security concerns clearly extend beyond confines of
the convenient albeit questionable geographical definition of South Asia …
given its size, geographic allocation, trade links and the EEZ, India’s
security environment and therefore potential concerns range from the
Persian Gulf to the Straits of Malacca in the West’.22 This understanding
was behind the Atal Bihari Vajpayee government’s 20-year programme to
become a world power whose influence is felt across the Indian Ocean, the
Arabian Gulf and all of Asia.23 India’s rapidly expanding geopolitical as
well as strategic interests were forcing India to maintain a sustained
presence in various corners of the Indian Ocean. Because the Navy has
proven itself adept at giving the Indian government sufficient leverage in
operational situations in the Indian Ocean, its utility for India in projecting
power and protecting its interests was only going to increase.
The Indian Maritime Doctrine of 2004, updated in 2009, also exhibits
Mahanian underpinnings by underscoring the need for an assertive strategy
for the Indian Navy to dominate the Indian Ocean. By underlining the need
for ‘an exposition of power projection beyond the Indian Ocean’, the
doctrine aims to provide a naval vision for the nation that takes into account
the entire arc from the Persian Gulf to the Straits of Malacca.24 This was in
tune with the evolving thinking in the political realm. Vajpayee, for
example, had asserted that ‘the strategic frontiers of today’s India, grown in
international stature, have expanded well beyond the confines of South Asia
… Our security environment ranges from the Persian Gulf to the Straits of
Malacca across the Indian Ocean. Our strategic thinking has also to extend
those horizons’.25 His successor, Manmohan Singh, is in agreement when he
suggests ‘our strategic footprint covers the region bounded by the Horn of
Africa, West Asia. … South-east Asia and beyond, to the far reaches of the
Indian Ocean. Awareness of this reality should inform and animate our
strategic thinking and defence planning’.26 As a consequence, many in India
are taking their inspiration from British India’s attempt to control the Indian
Ocean and are reemphasizing India’s outward projection into the Indian
Ocean. It has rightly been pointed out that a rising regional profile may
eventually approximate to that of the British Raj – as an engine of economic
growth, a major provider of security, and an underwriter of collective
goods.27
So one finds a consistent theme in the Indian naval thinking that derives
its inspiration from Mahan: the idea of projecting power and domination of
the Indian Ocean for securing Indian strategic interests. Many of the issues
that Indian naval planners are presently grappling with are part of this
stream of thinking. This includes how to cope with Chinese power
projection in the Indian Ocean, expanding Indian presence into the further
reaches of the Indian Ocean, controlling sea routes and access to bases in
the region, and generating capability for sustained operations in and
throughout the Indian Ocean.
Yet this does not necessarily imply that India has been able to muster
adequate resources and a strategic vision to bring that role to fruition,
especially as consensus has failed to emerge on defining India’s global role
within the nation’s domestic polity. The most important challenge has
emerged from China which Indian planners have been pointing out over all
these years. Yet India has found itself unprepared to tackle this challenge
with China’s rapid ascent as a global military power.

Strategic Thought Confronts Reality: The China Challenge

Though Indian defence policy post-Independence has largely been

preoccupied with Pakistan, the Indian naval planners, from the early days
itself, wanted to develop a major power navy. Pakistan was important but,
unlike other services, did not drive Indian naval policy. In the immediate
aftermath of Independence in 1947, the Indian Navy found it very hard to
justify its expansion and, not surprising, therefore, that it could not match
the financial outlays of its sister services. The policy-makers remained
unconvinced about the threats from the seas to the nation and as a result
India lacked a potent naval fleet till early 1970s.
India’s main security threats post-Independence were primarily Pakistan
and China, thereby reinforcing the British Indian obsession with the
northern frontiers. The main priority for Indian policy-makers was to
‘maintain the cordon sanitaire by preventing the contiguous neighbours
from arriving at mutual alliances directed against India while
simultaneously dissuading them from involving extra-regional great powers
in the resolution of intra-subcontinental disputes’.28 Both Pakistan and
China challenged this in their own ways and remained the focus for New
Delhi. On the other hand, in the absence of any direct naval threat, the
Indian Navy continued to suffer and remained the most neglected of the
three services. It remained largely a custodial force with a focus on ensuring
the security of India’s maritime assets.29 The poor performance of the Indian
Navy in the 1965 war with Pakistan when it found itself unprepared to
intercept the Pakistani naval surface raiding force ignited a rethink about
the potential role of the naval forces as a credible arm of the Indian defence.
This was further reinforced by a gradual deterioration in the security
environment in India’s extended neighbourhood in the early 1970s. The
despatch of the USS Enterprise to the Indian Ocean during the 1971 war
signalled to the Indian policymakers that in the absence of credible Indian
naval capability, the superpower involvement in the region would only
grow. These factors led to a reassessment of naval priorities and a new
assertiveness emerged to progressively alter the naval balance in the Indian
Ocean.30
The Pakistan Navy was never a potent force and was the smallest and the
most deprived of the three services as Pakistani leadership remained
obsessed with landward threats.31 At the time of Independence, the Pakistan
Navy was hardly a force of any consequence and the neglect of the naval
arms continued long thereafter, imposing significant costs on Pakistani
defence policy. The Indian Navy’s raid inside the Karachi harbour during
the 1971 India–Pakistan conflict when the Pakistan Navy not only failed to
interdict a single Indian merchant vessel but also failed to protect its own
and foreign-flag carriers came as a rude awakening.32 Yet, the requirements
of the Pakistan Navy failed to receive sustained attention from the nation’s
military leadership even as it found it virtually impossible to maintain an
adequate naval force structure without consistently high levels of great
power support. Moreover, the larger political and economic context has
continued to remain unfavourable to the evolution of an effective naval
capability.
With a force of nearly 70,000 personnel and about 150 ships and
submarines, the Indian Navy has emerged as the third-largest force in Asia
after China and Japan.33 Though Japan remains the world’s third-largest
economy, the country’s slow-motion economic decline has led to defence
budgets that have been declining as a percentage of the GDP and frequent
changes in political leadership has led a drift in policy-making. In contrast,
China’s defence modernization programme is continuing apace. The 2.3
million-member PLA is the world’s largest standing military and its
modernization has been accompanied by gradual steps toward greater
engagement with the outside world, including sending more than 17,000
military personnel to take part in United Nations peacekeeping missions.
Buoyed by double-digit rates of economic growth, China’s official defence
spending is the second highest in the world behind only the United States.
Though American technological prowess and war-fighting experience
will ensure that China will not be able to catch up very easily, China’s
largely secretive military modernization programme is producing results
faster than expected. Beijing is gearing up to challenge the US military
prowess in the Pacific. It is refitting a Soviet-era Ukrainian aircraft carrier
for deployment and more carriers are under construction in Shanghai.
China’s submarine fleet is the largest in Asia and is undergoing
refurbishments involving nuclear-powered vessels and ballistic missile
equipped subs. Its anti-ship ballistic missile (ASBM) system, developed
specifically to target US carrier strike groups, has reached initial operational
capability much earlier than expected.34
China’s navy is now considered the third-largest in the world behind
only the US and Russia and superior to the Indian Navy in both qualitative
and quantitative terms.35 The PLA Navy has traditionally been a coastal
force and China has had a continental outlook to security. But with a rise in
its economic might since the 1980s, Chinese interests have expanded and
have acquired a maritime orientation with an intent to project power into
the Indian Ocean. China is investing far greater resources in the
modernization of its armed forces in general and its navy in particular than
India seems either willing to match or capable of matching at present.
China’s increasingly sophisticated submarine fleet could eventually be one
of the world’s largest and with a rapid accretion in its capabilities, including
submarines, ballistic missiles and GPS-blocking technology, some are
suggesting that China will increasingly have the capacity to challenge
America.36
China has closed the capabilities gap with the US enough to pose a threat
to the US freedom of action in the Western Pacific with the help of a three-
decade-long build-up and a raft of technological secrets stolen through
espionage. The US has been consistently underestimating the PLA for more
than a decade now. The US aircraft carrier battle group now stands
vulnerable in East Asia. China might succeed in getting the US out of East
Asia without firing a shot by enhancing its deterrence capability in the
region, forcing the US to think twice before intervening in the region.
With a rise in China’s economic and political prowess, there has also
been a commensurate growth in its profile in the Indian Ocean region.
Chinese interests in the region are also expanding and it would like to see a
stable Indian Ocean region with its own presence more significant than
before. And this is resulting in a Sino-Indian competition for influence in
the Indian Ocean and beyond. Despite a significant improvement in Sino-
Indian ties since the late 1990s, the relationship remains competitive in
nature and, using its rising economic and military profile, Beijing has been
very successful in attracting Nepal, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and even Bhutan
into its orbit, much to India’s discomfiture.37 There is a growing perception
in India that China has been very successful in containing India within the
confines of South Asia by building close ties with India’s key neighbours,
in particular with Pakistan.38
Beijing has started claiming that the bulk of the South China Sea
constitutes Chinese territorial waters, defining it as a ‘core national
interest’, a phrase previously used in reference to Tibet and Taiwan. This
has come as a shock to regional states such as the Philippines, Malaysia,
Vietnam and Taiwan who also have territorial claims in the Sea. This sea
passage is too important to be controlled by a single country and that too by
one that is located far away from these waters. China would like to extend
its territorial waters, which usually run to 12 miles, to include the entire
EEZ, which extends 200 miles. China is challenging the fundamental
principle of free navigation. All maritime powers, including India, have a
national interest in freedom of navigation, open access to Asia’s maritime
commons and respect for international law in the South China Sea.
It has been suggested that the Chinese government appears ‘to have a
very clear vision of the future importance of the sea and a sense of the
strategic leadership needed to develop maritime interest’.39 This is reflected
in the attempts that China has made in recent years to build up all aspects of
its maritime economy and to create one of the world’s largest merchant
fleets with a port, transport and shipbuilding infrastructure to match. In this
respect, the Indian Ocean has an important role to play in the China’s efforts
towards establishing its predominance as the main maritime power in the
region. All the steps that China is taking to protect and enhance its interests
in the Indian Ocean region are generating apprehensions in Indian strategic
circles about China’s real intentions, thereby engendering a classic security
dilemma between the two Asian giants.

India’s Multilateral Turn

Both China and India would most certainly like to acquire the potential to
project power and operate interpedently far from their shores. Yet, it is
China that now seems more willing actually to commit to the expense of
building up its fleet with a clear strategic agenda as to how its wants to
utilize its naval assets. The ability of Indian policy-makers to think
strategically on national security and defence issues has been questionable
at best. Ad hoc decision-making has been the norm leading to a situation
where long-time observers of India argue that it is likely that ‘India will be
among the medium powers … a country of great economic capabilities but
limited cultural and military influence’.40 With policy-makers in New Delhi
far removed from the nation’s sea frontiers, there is even less understanding
of maritime issues. This political apathy has led to the three services
operating in a strategic void.
Though Indian and Chinese navies are usually placed on par with each
other as ‘medium regional force projection navies’ when attempts are made
to classify world navies, the pace of their recent growth might soon call for
a re-evaluation.41 Indian naval strategists warn that despite all the talk of
quality and capability-based platforms, Indian Navy is actually shrinking in
size and a 10-year strategic maritime gap has emerged between China and
India which will be difficult to close without radical actions to upgrade
shipbuilding and port infrastructure.42 Though Indian naval aspirations are
growing, the emphasis placed upon India’s sea power has not been
commensurate with the nation’s growing maritime commitments and the
ever-more sophisticated threats emerging in the waters around it.
Moreover, despite the fact that some in India would like their nation to
achieve preponderance in the Indian Ocean region, it remains an unrealistic
aspiration, as other major powers have significant stakes in the region and
so will continue to operate and shape its strategic environment. A rising
India is beginning to discover that major global powers have stakes in far-
flung corners of the world and this realization has allowed India to shun its
fundamentally flawed original argument about the need for ‘extra-regional
navies’ to withdraw from the Indian Ocean region. India’s bilateral and
multilateral naval exercises with major naval powers has helped in reducing
the misperceptions about India’s maritime intentions and has brought the
Indian Navy’s capacity to contribute to peace and stability in the Indian
Ocean littoral to the forefront. India is, therefore, cooperating with other
major powers in the region to secure common interests that include
safeguarding the SLOCs, energy security, and countering extremist and
terrorist groups.
India’s hosting of the Indian Ocean Naval Symposium (IONS) since
2008 is therefore an attempt to take these changing realities into account
and evolve an alternative approach toward maritime security. The IONS not
only highlights the role of the Indian Navy as an important instrument of
nation’s foreign and security policy but it is also an attempt by India to
promote a multilateral approach in the management of the security of the
Indian Ocean. India is signalling that as a rising power it is willing to fulfil
its maritime responsibilities in the region but unlike in the past when India
had been suspicious of what it saw as ‘extra-regional navies’ it is now ready
to cooperate with other navies in and around the Indian Ocean. Whether
India’s leadership will be enough to promote genuine maritime
multilateralism in the region, however, remains to be seen.
The Indian Navy continues to invest in a wide range of maritime
platforms as part of a process of modernization. Though the emerging
Chinese naval threat has largely underpinned India’s current naval
modernization and expansion plans, the Indian Navy will have to prioritize
the procurement and development of the necessary capabilities. In the
absence of strategic direction, the Indian Navy has utilized a bottom-up
approach in trying to find a purpose, role and structure for itself. The Indian
Maritime Doctrine is aimed at giving the nation’s naval commanders some
basic direction. Though its focus is strategic, it tries to provide operational
guidance on military planning for the application of maritime power in
conflict and peacetime.
A lack of strategic vision and formal direction to the Indian Navy has
undermined its ability to evolve more effectively. The Indian Navy’s
attempt to come up with its own strategy and doctrine, though welcome in
many respects, has little meaning in the absence of a national security
strategy from the Indian government. A lack of internal cohesion has been
the result and the consequences have been largely detrimental to the Indian
naval evolution. As has been noted by Thomas Barnett: ‘Each Admiral has
his own school of thought, according to the location of his staff studies.
They are divided into two broad strategic factions, which have been
described as the Soviet School and the British School. This division
highlights the operational disparity between Eastern and Western Fleets.
The former has long been considered as the Russian half of the IN, the latter
the British half’.43 A continuation of this trend can rupture the future
direction and priorities of the Indian Navy. It is these challenges that
confront the Indian Navy as it makes a gradual transition towards a major
maritime force.

***

This volume examines a range of domestic and external issues that have
shaped the broader context of the recent rise of Indian naval power over the
last two decades. Part I of the book focuses on the internal dimension of the
evolving Indian naval prowess. Examining the drivers of Indian naval
growth, Walter Ladwig argues in Chapter 2 that Indian naval modernization
‘is being driven primarily by the desire to secure the country’s sea lanes to
protect the flow of trade goods and energy resources’. He suggests that
India is primarily focused on emerging as a benign hegemon – one that can
provide public goods for the benefit of all regional states, thereby
concluding that India’s growing naval prowess ‘will emerge as a net
positive for the region’.
C. Uday Bhaskar in Chapter 3 underscores the role that the Indian Navy
has come to play in furthering nation’s foreign policy priorities. Till the mid
1980s, the Navy was not viewed by Indian policy-makers as an integral
instrument of foreign policy and even when used, Bhaskar argues that ‘co-
relation between the deployment of naval forces and the Indian foreign
policy objectives remained tenuous or at best, opaque’. He suggests that
‘work in progress’ is the best way to describe the foreign policy/naval
linkages as nation’s policy-makers are yet to holistically review its latent
potential for harnessing naval diplomacy for larger national interest. India
can indeed be a provider of collective security in the maritime domain as
Ladwig suggests New Delhi is already trying to do but to do this more
effectively, Bhaskar suggests Indian policy-makers will have to think anew
the role of the Indian Navy in furthering national imperatives.
Examining the organizational and the doctrinal evolution of the Indian
Navy in Chapter 4, Iskander Rehman argues that the lofty ambitions
underlined in the Indian Maritime Doctrine ‘may be more advocatory and
aspirational than genuinely reflective of reality’. He goes on to suggest that
‘India’s naval thought can best be understood as syncretic, with a variety of
traditions shaping the service’s vision and evolution’. As a consequence, the
future size and composition of India’s naval fleet will be a function of
which of the different strands of India’s naval thinking emerge as more
salient.
Underlining the transformation that the Indian Navy has undergone over
the course of the last three decades, K. Raja Menon in Chapter 5 describes
this transformation as ‘unique’ for a third-world country ‘with limited
capacity for building and under adverse technology denial regimes’. The
transformation in the Indian Navy’s profile is not so much an issue of
numbers but of technology, argues Menon ‘enabling ships to steam for
longer periods, had a better suite of sensors, longer range weapons, and
were largely interconnected through data link’. This technological change in
the naval force is one of the big reasons why the Indian Navy has emerged
in recent times as a powerful tool of foreign policy.
The final four chapters examine the external context of the evolution of
Indian naval power in Part II. In Chapter 6, Probal Ghosh explores the
changing profile of the Chinese Navy and examines the emerging contours
of dissonance and congruence with the Indian Navy. He argues that ‘there
exists a near negligible chance of “preventing” the Chinese from becoming
an influential entity in the IOR and increasing its strategic footprints in a
region which plays host to SLOCs that traverse to China and has widely
dispersed overseas energy assets in Africa belonging to them’.
Taking this discussion forward, I examine the emerging Indian approach
towards the Indian Ocean in the context of India’s rise as a major regional
and global actor in Chapter 7. I argue that though India has historically
viewed the Indian Ocean region as one in which it would like to establish
its own predominance, its limited material capabilities have constrained its
options. With the expansion, however, of India’s economic and military
capabilities, Indian ambitions vis-à-vis this region are soaring once again.
Yet, preponderance in the Indian Ocean region, though much desired by the
Indian strategic elites, remains an unrealistic aspiration for India, given the
significant stakes that other major powers have in the region.
James R. Holmes in the following chapter looks at the emerging
dynamic of the US–India naval cooperation and suggests that ‘the substance
of the partnership between Washington and Delhi remains obscure despite
the seeming onset of an era of good feelings’. Holmes argues that while
Washington needs to temper expectations that ‘functional, tactical-level
cooperation will pay off in the form of political goodwill’, New Delhi needs
to revisit its long-standing assumption that the US naval power can
maintain the sea-lane security in the Indian Ocean indefinitely and should
start accepting a growing share of the burden.
The last chapter by Nitin Pai focuses on the non-state threats to Indian
maritime security and argues that though non-state actors will find it
difficult to challenge Indian Navy’s ‘hard power’, they can indeed ‘blunt its
fighting edge, sapping morale, weakening resolve and exposing naval
personnel to moral dilemmas and dubious political economies’. As a result,
Pai suggests that in view of the growing salience of non-state threats in the
coming years, the Indian Navy ‘must redefine the baselines of what
peacetime and wartime mean’ and that entails substantive structural and
cultural changes.
There is a growing consensus across the party political divide in India
about the efficacy of the Indian Navy as an instrument of power projection
in pursuit of regional and global interests. Yet, despite Mahanian
underpinnings to Indian naval thought over all these years, it is not clear if
Vaidya’s hopes in 1949 of India becoming a mighty sea power by
dominating the Indian Ocean ‘which she is destined by nature and which
alone can ensure national greatness’ are any closer to realization today that
they were in 1949. For all the euphoria about the Indian Navy’s rise in
recent years, the intellectual debate about the Indian Navy’s trajectory
remains unresolved. And it is the way it gets resolved which will shape
India’s rise to a great extent. In the absence of a clearly articulated strategic
rationale for naval expansion, there are dangers that this may lead to an
exacerbation of Indian security dilemmas with other regional and global
powers.
To be effective, the Indian Navy’s plans and priorities must be better
coordinated and interwoven with the government’s aspirations and those of
the other two services so as to meet national challenges. Certainly, India has
the potential to become a powerful maritime power. But for that, it is not
sufficient just to create a navy, but a naval tradition in the public mind, and
a conviction that India’s future greatness lies on the sea must also be
created.44
 1 Manu Pubby, ‘Don’t Have Capability or Intention to Match China Force for Force: Navy Chief’,
Indian Express, 11 August 2009.
2 Paul Kennedy, ‘The Rise and Fall of Navies’, International Herald Tribune, 5 April 2007.
3 Devendra Kaushik, The India Ocean: Towards a Peace Zone (New Delhi: Vikas Publications,
1972), p. 111.
4 K.M. Pannikar, India and the Indian Ocean: An Essay on the Influence of Sea Power on Indian
History (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1945), p. 14.
5 P. Namboodiri et al., Intervention in the Indian Ocean (New Delhi: ABC Publishing House,
1982), pp. 50–7.
6 Ashley J. Tellis, ‘Securing the Barracks: The Logic, Structure and Objectives of India’s Naval
Expansion’, Naval War College Review (Summer 1990): 76.
7 Rahul Roy-Chaudhury, Sea Power and India’s Security (London: Brassey’s, 1995), p. 199.
8 P. Brobst, The Future of the Great Game: Sir Olaf Caroe, India’s Independence and the Defense
of Asia (Akron: University of Akron Press, 2005), p. 13.
9 Pannikar, India and the Indian Ocean, p. 45.
10 Ibid., p. 15.
11 Ibid., p. 95.
12 Keshav Vaidya, The Naval Defense of India (Bombay: Thacker, 1949), p. 9.
13 Ibid., p. 29.
14 Ibid., p. 1.
15 N. Palmer, ‘South Asia and the Indian Ocean’, in The Indian Ocean: Its Political, Economic,
and Military Importance, ed. A. Cottrell and R. Burrell (New York: Praeger, 1972), p. 237.
16 Ashley Tellis, ‘Demanding Tasks for the Indian Navy’, Asian Survey, 25(12) (1985): 1204.
17 Ministry of Defence, Government of India, Annual Report, 1996–97.
18 K. Kohli, ‘India’s Maritime and Geo-Strategic Interests in the Indian Ocean’, in The Indian
Ocean and Its Islands, ed. S. Chandra et al. (New Delhi: Sage, 1993), p. 69.
19 M. Pugh, ‘Is Mahan Still Alive?’ Conflict Studies Journal, 16(2) (1996): 109–23.
20 George Tanham, ‘Indian Strategy in Flux?’, in Securing India: Strategic Thought and Practice,
ed. Kanti Bajpai and Amitabh Mattoo (New Delhi: Manohar, 1996), p. 131.
21 C. Raja Mohan, Crossing the Rubicon: The Shaping of India’s New Foreign Policy (New
Delhi: Viking, 2003), pp. 204–36.
22 Jaswant Singh, June 2000, cited in A. Mattoo, ‘ASEAN in India’s Foreign Policy’, India and
ASEAN, ed. F. Grare and A. Mattoo (New Delhi: Manohar, 2001), p. 105.
23 Vivek Raghuvanshi, ‘India Aims to Project Power across Asia’, Defense News, 10 November
2003.
24 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Indian Maritime Doctrine, 2004, p. 56.
25 A.B. Vajpayee, cited in Subhash Kapila, ‘India Defines Her Strategic Frontiers’, South Asia
Analysis Group, Paper No. 832.
26 Manmohan Singh, ‘PM’s Address at the Combined Commanders’ Conference’, 24 October
2004.
27 C. Raja Mohan, ‘India’s Strategic Challenges in the Indian Ocean and the Gulf’, Paper
presented at a workshop on India and the Gulf, Dubai, 11–13 November, 2008.
28 Tellis, ‘Securing the Barracks’, p. 82.
29 Ibid, pp. 83–7.
 30 Ravi Rikhye, ‘Projecting an Indian Presence in the Indian Ocean’, Vikrant, May 1979, pp. 32–
4.
31 For a broad overview of the Pakistani naval capabilities, see Pervaiz Iqbal Cheema, The Armed
Forces of Pakistan (New York: New York University Press, 2011), pp. 86–103.
32 Ashley Tellis, ‘The Pakistani Navy’, Naval Forces, 7(6) (1987): 52.
33 Vijay Sakhuja, Asian Maritime Power in the 21st Century (Singapore: Institute of Southeast
Asian Studies, 2011), p. 68.
34 Ronald O’Rourke, ‘China Naval Modernization: Implications for U.S. Navy Capabilities:
Background and Issues for Congress’, Congressional Research Service, 22 April 2011, available at:
www.fas.org/sgp/crs/row/RL33153.pdf.
35 Anthony H. Cordesman and Martin Kleiber, The Asian Conventional Military Balance in 2009,
The Centre for Strategic and International Studies, June 2009, p. 32.
36 Robert D. Kaplan, ‘Lost at Sea’, New York Times, 21 September 2007.
37 On the contemporary state of Sino-Indian ties, see Harsh V. Pant, The China Syndrome:
Grappling With an Uneasy Relationship (New Delhi: HarperCollins, 2009).
38 On China’s growing role in South Asia, see Harsh V. Pant, The Rise of China: Implications for
India (New Delhi: Cambridge University Press, 2012), pp. 236–9.
39 Geoffrey Till, Seapower: A Guide for the Twenty-First Century (London: Frank Cass, 2004), p.
102.
40 See Stephen Cohen’s interview with Pragati, available at: http://pragati.nationalinterest.in/wp-
content/uploads/2008/06/pragati-issue15-jun2008-communityed.pdf.
41 On the classification of world navies along various axes, see Eric Grove, The Future of
Seapower (London: Routledge, 1990), pp. 231–10.
42 Arun Kumar Singh, ‘Navy Coast Guard Must Get More Funds, Powers’, Asian Age, 2 June
2008.
43 Thomas P.M. Barnett, ‘India’s 12 Steps to a World-Class Navy’, Proceedings (US Naval
Institute), July 2001, pp. 41.
44 Panikkar, India and the Indian Ocean, p. 99.
 PART I
Internal Dimensions
 Chapter 2
Drivers of Indian Naval Expansion
Walter C. Ladwig III

Traditionally the neglected ‘Cinderella’ service of the Indian armed forces,

the Indian Navy is in the midst of a modernization programme that has
attracted international concern from commentators who worry that this
might pose a risk to stability in the Indian Ocean or presage a naval arms
race in Asia.1 This chapter attempts to understand what is driving this
uncharacteristic focus on the Navy, concentrating on developments in the
20-year period since the end of the Cold War (1991–2011). The analysis
proceeds in two parts. The first section examines several different measures,
including number of ships, aggregate tonnage, number of missile cells and
budgetary allocation to understand the trajectory of the Indian Navy over the
past 20 years. Section two examines three oft-cited justifications for naval
expansion – defence against hostile maritime powers, the cultivation of
power projection capability to further India’s political interests, and the
protection of trade – in relation to the fleet’s actual platform acquisitions to
determine their relative importance in driving naval development.
The available data suggests that the primary mission driving naval
modernization is sea-lane security, with the development of ‘softer’ aspects
of power projection capability receiving some support, while the need to
deter hostile maritime powers does little to explain India’s recent naval
modernization. This focus on enhancing India’s ability to provide regional
‘public goods’, such as sea-lane security and humanitarian response,
strongly suggests that this growing naval strength can emerge as a net
positive for the region.

Is the Indian Navy Growing?

Despite the international attention given to the Indian Navy’s recent
acquisitions, some observers argue the fleet is actually withdrawing
platforms faster than it is adding them.2 In an effort to clarify this situation,
three different measures are used to judge developments in the fleet since
1991: number of ships, size of ships and the number of missile cells per ship.
To understand whether this observed naval modernization is evidence of a
determined turn to the sea on the part of the Indian armed forces, a fourth
measure, relative budget share, is also examined. Collectively, these
measures suggest the Navy is acquiring significantly more advanced
platforms, while the overall number of ships is relatively static, but this does
not indicate a reprioritization of the Navy vis-à-vis the other armed forces.

Figure 2.1 Indian naval strength: 1991-2011

The most obvious way to measure growth is to count the number of ships
in the fleet. In terms of major platforms – submarines, principal surface
combatants (aircraft carriers, destroyers and frigates) and amphibious ships –
the Indian Navy has slightly contracted over the last 20 years. The fleet
possessed 51 major vessels in 1991, but only 50 such ships today.3 During
this period, the Navy lost submarines, frigates and aircraft carriers, while
gaining destroyers and amphibious warships.
Table 2.1 Qualitative measures: Displacement and missile complement of major naval platforms
 Since quality matters as well as quantity, the number of ships alone is not
a sufficient measure of the health of a fleet. In the absence of a detailed
analysis of the weapons, radars and propulsion systems of individual
platforms, the full-load displacement of a ship can be used as a crude proxy
for its capability.4 The aggregate displacement of the fleet was nearly 30 per
cent greater in 2011 (217,426 tons) than 1991 (167,657 tons), despite the
lack of growth in the numbers of major platforms, a trend that was most
pronounced with respect to frigates and amphibious craft.5
A second measure of the quality of Indian naval vessels is their number
of missile cells carrying anti-ship cruise missiles, land-attack cruise missiles,
anti-submarine rockets, or surface-to-air-missiles with a range greater than
8.6 nautical miles.6 By this measure, the quality of the fleet has increased
significantly. In 1991, the Navy’s warships possessed a total 72 missile cells:
in 2011, it carried 402 – an increase in striking power, air defence and anti-
submarine capability of more than five-and-a-half times, in addition to the
improvements in range and accuracy of modern systems.
With the quality of the modern vessels improving moderately as
measured by aggregate tonnage and drastically with respect to number of
missile cells, it appears that the Navy has sought increasingly capable
modern platforms, while being less concerned with the overall size of its
fleet. To put Indian developments into perspective, as Table 2.2 indicates,
among other major Asian navies, China and Australia are both expanding
their fleets and adding more capable platforms (as measured by aggregate
tonnage), the South Koreans are expanding their numbers significantly while
holding their capability steady, and the Japanese are adding more capable
platforms while shrinking the overall size of their fleet.
Is this modernization of the Indian fleet evidence of a desire to emerge as
a major maritime power? In nominal terms, the Indian Navy’s budget has
gone from Rs 2,090.78 crore ($468 million) in 1991 to Rs 21,467.51 crore
($4.8 billion) in 2011, a growth of more than 1,000 per cent (Figure 2.2).7
Moreover, naval spending grew at a slightly faster average annual rate (12.3
per cent) than the overall defence budget (11.5 per cent). Despite this tenfold
increase in nominal naval spending, in comparison to the budgetary
allocations of the Army and the Air Force (Figure 2.3), the Navy clearly
remains the third service. The Navy’s relative share of the defence budget
increased from a low of 11.5 per cent in 1992 93 to a high of 18.9 per cent in
2006-2007 before regressing to 14.7 per cent by 2010-11 – a budget share it
previously held in 1999-2000. This is far short of the sustained 20 per cent
share of defence spending some overly optimistic observers believed that the
Navy could achieve, let alone the 30 per cent share recommended by the
Standing Committee on Defence in 1998.8 It has traditionally been difficult
for the Navy to justify allocating scarce defence resources to its capital-
intensive fleet given the country’s outstanding territorial disputes with both
Pakistan and China. As numerous land powers throughout history have
found, the resources necessary to become a major maritime power are
unlikely to be available as long as India continues to require a large army to
protect its territorial integrity.9
Table 2.2 Development of major Asian navies 1991–2011

Figure 2.2 Naval expenditure

Figure 2.3 Total defence expenditure

Drivers of Indian Naval Development

What is driving the development of the Indian Navy described in the

previous section? The justifications for a robust fleet put forth by naval
proponents have remained relatively static despite changing geopolitical
circumstances in the six decades since Independence.10 The three principal
arguments are the need to:

1. Prevent a hostile power from encroaching on the country’s expansive

coastline and maritime areas of interests.
2. Project power in a manner fitting the country’s desired regional or
global role.
3. Safeguard the sea lanes which carry India’s trade and energy supplies.

To assess the factor most salient in driving naval modernization, each

justification will first be compared to the actual risks India faces. Second, the
Navy’s acquisition patterns over the past two decades will be examined to
see if they demonstrate preparation for that mission. Though subject to time
lags, platform acquisition can provide a more concrete indication of a navy’s
priorities since it is a costlier signal of future intentions than the statements
of senior policy-makers or proclamations made in service doctrinal
publications.11 While there is a degree of fungibility among naval platforms,
certain vessel types are better suited for some missions than others: a navy
configured to deny access to a hostile power, for example, will look different
from one primarily designed to influence events on land from the sea.12
Thus, by examining the specific mix of vessels in the fleet and the missions
they are optimally configured to carry out, it is possible to make a qualified
judgement about the Indian Navy’s priorities.
Assessment of both vulnerability and platform acquisition suggests
concerns about securing the country’s sea lanes is the primary factor driving
India’s naval development. Growth in amphibious lift provides some
evidence that power projection is a factor of interest; however, the lack of
assets to facilitate operations in hostile littoral environments indicates this
capability is focused on ‘softer’ missions such as non-combatant evacuation
and humanitarian response. The least evidence exists to support the idea that
concerns about extra-regional powers is the driving factor, as evidenced by
the sorry state of India’s submarine fleet.

Denying Hostile Maritime Powers

The desire to defend the country’s sphere of influence from hostile powers is
one factor potentially driving Indian naval modernization.13 India possesses
nearly 4,800 miles of coastline and a massive 2.54 million square mile
exclusive economic zone that constitutes nearly 10 per cent of the Indian
Ocean. American naval analysts have argued that the core of India’s
maritime strategy is to defend the entire Indian Ocean as the country’s
‘rightful and exclusive sphere of interest’.14 Indeed, ‘the arc from the Persian
Gulf to the Straits of Malacca’ is identified by the Indian Navy’s 2004
Maritime Doctrine defined as ‘a legitimate area of interest…’.15
Concerns about extra-regional maritime actors in the Indian Ocean
precede Independence, with both Indian scholars and politicians linking the
country’s naval weakness in the sixteenth century to its subsequent conquest
by colonial powers.16 More recently, the Nixon Administration’s gunboat
diplomacy during the 1971 Bangladesh War – dispatching the USS
Enterprise task force to the Bay of Bengal to signal tacit support for Pakistan
– has, according to one Indian scholar, ‘seeped into India’s cultural memory
– even among those who know nothing of the sea’.17 Concern that extra-
regional powers would seek to establish a lasting presence in the Indian
Ocean would appear to be particularly acute today since the Navy’s 2004
maritime doctrine predicts, all ‘major powers of this century will seek a
toehold in the [Indian Ocean Region]’.18 In particular, the Navy’s maritime
strategy gives explicit attention to the Chinese navy’s actions in the Indian
Ocean.19 Beijing’s efforts to establish a network of ports and partnerships
with countries in the littoral region – including several nations that have
traditionally been hostile to India – have alarmed many in India’s strategic
community.20 As a result, some scholars have suggested that ‘it is India’s
fears and perceptions of the growing naval prowess of China in the Indian
Ocean that is driving Indian naval posture’.21
Do extra-regional maritime powers pose a sufficient threat to drive
India’s naval modernization programme? While India’s Independence may
have historically been linked to sea control, it hyperbole to advance that
argument today. A hostile maritime power seeking to invade India from the
sea would have to withstand the power of the Indian Air Force in their
approach to the shore. Any forces surviving this initial bombardment would
then find that India’s coastline has few landing zones adjacent to strategic
objectives that would make an amphibious assault worthwhile.22 Although,
as the 2008 attacks on Mumbai demonstrated, the possibility of a terrorist
group infiltrating India by sea is real, the appropriate responses to this threat
are inshore patrol craft and the creation of specialized coast guard units to
protect India’s ports and coastline, not blue-water warships. Although a
cause for concern during the Cold War, the burgeoning Indo-American
strategic partnership means that the U.S. Navy is now a welcome sight in the
Indian Ocean. With respect to China, over the last 15 years, senior Chinese
military personnel have suggested that they do not recognize the Indian
Ocean as India’s exclusive domain.23 However, with 75 per cent of its
surface vessels considered obsolete and only possessing a limited power
projection capability, the Chinese navy is configured to prevent US
intervention in a crisis involving Taiwan, not projecting power abroad.24
There would have to be a significantly favourable shift in the naval balance
in East Asia before Beijing could seriously entertain a sustained presence in
the Indian Ocean.
Turning to the configuration of the Indian fleet, the development of a
robust sea-denial capability would provide evidence that concern about
extra-regional actors was driving naval modernization. Since the early
1900s, ‘the weapon of choice’ for sea-denial missions has been the
submarine.25 This is particularly true in the Indian Ocean where the peculiar
underwater topography, salinity and thermoclines all hinder the ability of
sonar to detect submarines and other underwater objects. Therefore, a
significant modernization of India’s submarine fleet would provide the most
apparent evidence of a focus on sea-denial.
In 1991 the Indian Navy possessed seven obsolete Russian Foxtrot (INS:
Vela/Kalvari) class diesel-electric submarines, two German HDW 209s
(INS: Shishumar), and eight modern Russian-built Kilo (INS: Sindhughosh)
class boats, the last of which was one of the quietest diesel submarines in the
world. In the ensuing two decades, the submarine fleet has undergone a
steady decline. The fleet did add a pair each of HDW 209s and Kilos while
seven of the older Kilos were upgraded to the Type 636 standard which
equipped them with modern fire control systems, advanced torpedoes and
anti-ship cruise missiles. Meanwhile, all but one of the Foxtrots were
removed from service and the majority of the remaining submarines
approached the end of their operational life. By October 2009, the
Comptroller and Auditor General estimated that the submarine fleet’s
operational readiness rate had fallen below 50 per cent, a shortcoming
exacerbated by the fact that the Navy only possessed two-thirds of the
number of submarines envisioned by planners in the 1980s.26
The lethargic pace with which the MoD has pursued new submarines
demonstrates the relative lack of interest in the submarine fleet. A contract
for six French-designed Scorpene subs was only signed in 2005, at a time
when five of the seven Foxtrots had already been withdrawn from service.
The first of these Scorpenes was not even scheduled to be delivered until
2012, which would be a dozen years since the most recent submarine entered
the fleet. With the inevitable delays in procurement programmes, however,
by the time the first Scorpene is actually inducted in the middle of the
decade, it has been estimated that India will only have between five and nine
operational submarines left. Even with the most optimistic assumptions, this
will fall significantly short of the minimum of 18 conventional submarines
believed necessary to effectively deter hostile maritime powers.27
Despite the obvious fact that ‘India is in dire need of modern
submarines’, there has been no attempt to fill the gap through a short-term
lease or other rapid acquisition programme.28 Instead, a tender for six
additional submarines was issued in 2010, which will not even be signed
before 2012–13.29 The priority given to developing the capacity of
government shipyards has meant that the Navy’s request to speed delivery of
these six additional submarines by building them in private shipyards—
rather than the already overburdened state-owned Mazagon Docks—was
overruled.30
Nothing about the state of India’s submarine fleet suggests developing an
antiaccess capability to deter extra-regional powers is a prime concern. Nor
would the submarine capability that the Navy is projected to possess in the
2015–20 timeframe be sufficient to prevent an extra-regional power from
establishing a presence in the region. Thus we cannot give significant weight
to the idea that Indian naval modernization is chiefly driven by perceived
threats to the homeland posed by hostile maritime powers. Fortunately, India
has friendly relations with the most powerful extra-regional navy in the
Indian Ocean, the United States, while the potential naval challenge from
China appears many years off.

Power Projection for Great Power Status

The desire to gain a maritime power projection capability as a marker of

great power status is a second factor that has been posited to drive Indian
naval modernization. With the ability to project military power abroad
having been identified as a core characteristic of a great power, a rising state
such as India could have ample reason to want to enhance its military power
projection capabilities.31 In this vein, scholars such as Ashley Tellis believe
that ‘India’s rise to power will remain incomplete until it acquires, and
develops, the capacity to effectively utilize the full panoply of military
power’.32
Observing that, since 1500, the leading maritime powers have been the
leading powers in the world, George Modelski and William Thompson argue
that maritime power – vice land-power or airpower – is what determines
great power status.33 From an early age the Indian Navy recognized the link
between maritime power and international status: its initial 1947 expansion
plan identified naval development as a means of achieving ‘a position of pre-
eminence and leadership among the nations of South-East Asia’.34 In this
vein, some contemporary analysts believe ‘the general posture of the [Indian
Navy] is power projection, an aspiration pushed hard by the Navy itself, but
endorsed in principal by governments of all political persuasion, and
enthusiastically supported by the population at large’.35 The Navy’s 2007
maritime strategy would appear to sanction this view as it repeatedly
mentions the need to ‘project power’ to support the country’s foreign policy
objectives and achieve its national aims.36
Since humans live on land, not on the sea, however, the projection of
maritime power must ultimately have an impact onshore. As a result, it has
been suggested India’s naval modernization is driven by a particular desire
to boost its ability to decisively influence military operations on land.37
Towards that end, in 2008, then-Chief of Naval Staff Admiral Sureesh Mehta
declared that his goal for 2020 was a navy that would be ‘capable of
influencing the outcome of land battles and performing a constabulary role
in the Indian Ocean region’.38
Control of the sea, which is the ability to operate ‘with a high degree of
freedom in a sea or ocean area … for a limited period of time’, is a
fundamental prerequisite for both power projection and the protection of sea
lanes (the latter of which is discussed in the subsequent section.)39 However,
sea control alone is not sufficient for the more demanding mission of
maritime power projection onshore, which can take two general forms:
amphibious assault by ground troops and strikes by carrier aircraft and cruise
missiles. Although the precision and reach of naval aircraft and cruise
missiles makes them potent tools, both scholars of naval strategy such as
Geoffrey Till and international relations theorists like John Mearsheimer
contend that amphibious operations remain ‘the main subset of maritime
power projection’.40 In contrast, bombardment with missions or carrier
aircraft are derided as ‘pinprick warfare’ that ‘has little effect on the target
state’.41 Thus, a concrete indication that power projection was driving India’s
naval development would be a significant expansion in amphibious
capability, namely the acquisition of platforms that can transport a
significant number of troops overseas.42 A secondary indication would be the
cultivation of the ability to carry out air and missile strikes on shore.
 Twenty years ago the Navy could transport 1,800 men and 55 tanks with
a single Magar class landing ship tank (LST) and eight Kumbhir class
(Polish: Polnocy variant) medium landing ships (LSM). In 2011, the Navy’s
amphibious complement has the notional ability to move a brigade-sized
force of 4,300 men, 100 tanks and several dozen armoured vehicles. In
addition to the 19,000-ton landing platform dock INS Jalashwa (US: Austin
class), which is the second-largest ship in the fleet and can transport a
thousand soldiers by itself, the Navy possesses five Magar and Shardul class
LSTs and five remaining Kumbhir LSMs.
The Navy has employed this expanded capability in a number of high-
profile humanitarian response and non-combatant evacuation operations that
have attracted worldwide attention. Following the 2004 Asian tsunami, the
Indian Navy mobilized 32 ships and over 20,000 naval personnel to evacuate
casualties, as well as provide emergency sources of power and water to the
peoples of Sri Lanka, the Maldives, Indonesia, Thailand and Malaysia. Two
years later, during Operation Sukoon, the Navy evacuated 2,280 Indian, Sri
Lankan and Nepalese civilians from Lebanon ahead of the 2006 Israeli-
Hizbollah War. These operations have burnished India’s credentials as a net
provider of security and enhanced its regional reputation in line with the
predictions of the analysts cited above. Consequently, in December 2010, the
Cabinet Committee on Security approved the Navy’s plan to acquire four
additional LPDs of a similar size as the Jalashwa; however, given the
chequered history of Indian naval construction, it could be the mid 2020s
before they actually come into service.43
Amphibious ships are sufficient for softer power projection missions such
as responding to humanitarian crises and evacuating non-combatants from
conflict zones.44 However, to operate in hostile littoral waters, these
platforms would need support from vessels with robust anti-submarine and
anti-air capabilities. There should be evidence of a focused effort to acquire
these facilitating capabilities if the projection of hard military power were in
fact a key goal of the Navy. Although the Navy possesses modern sonar of
an international standard, its principal antisubmarine warfare (ASW) surface
vessels are far too large to effectively hunt submarines in littoral waters.45
Similarly, air defence is significantly more challenging close to shore than in
the open ocean.46 Possessing a moderate area air-defence capability, India’s
surface fleet would have difficulty screening a task force from hostile
ground-based aircraft. Not only are ground-based aircraft able to marshal
greater numbers close to shore than they could at sea, the clutter of land
creates backscatter which affects radar returns, impeding detection rates of
hostile aircraft by air-defence radars. One of India’s aircraft carriers could
theoretically take up this mission; however, only 11 of the Navy’s 30 Mk. 51
Sea Harrier fighters remain in service. Moreover, as of April 2012, the naval
version of the domestically designed Tejas lightweight fighter, which is
supposed to replace the Harriers for air-defence missions, has only just made
its initial test flight.
With respect to the second aspect of maritime power projection, the Navy
has not demonstrated a concerted effort to acquire a robust ability to
undertake strikes against ground-based targets with either naval aircraft or
cruise missiles. Given the common association of aircraft carriers with
power projection, the steady deterioration of India’s aircraft carrier
capability since 1991 is telling. Having possessed two light fleet carriers in
1991, the INS Vikrant (UK: Majestic) was decommissioned in 1997, and the
58-year-old Viraat (UK: Centaur), is on its last legs having already
undergone four mid-service refits to extend its lifespan. The Navy could find
itself without a carrier for several years should induction of the 44,500-ton,
Russian-built INS Vikramaditya (RU: Kiev) – which is expected to join the
fleet at the end of 2012 – or the domestically built 40,000-ton ‘new’ Vikrant
(Project 71) – currently under construction in Cochin – be delayed beyond
the middle of the decade.
The pace and means of India’s aircraft carrier acquisition does not
demonstrate a rush to expand its carrier capability. Having possessed only a
single operational carrier since 1997, the deal to purchase the Vikramaditya
was not signed until seven years after the decommissioning of the original
Vikrant. Moreover, the Vikramaditya was not even scheduled to be delivered
until 2008, the time that the Viraat itself was supposed to be withdrawn from
service. The decision to opt for indigenous construction of the both the new
Vikrant and a third carrier – when India’s domestic shipyards have never
before built ships of that size – suggests India places a higher priority on
enhancing domestic shipbuilding capacity than immediately acquiring naval
airpower projection capability.
The limited strike capability of the actual aircraft complement of India’s
forthcoming carriers also suggests that hard power projection ashore is not a
priority. Each new carrier will carry only 12–16 fighters, meaning that even
operating in tandem, two Indian carriers would produce less striking power
than the French carrier Charles de Gaulle and nowhere near that of a single
US super carrier. American naval analysts have judged that, ‘even armed
with precision-guided munitions, a contingent of this size could sustain only
a modest land bombardment, and only for a modest time’.47 If naval strike
operations were a serious focus for the Navy, a robust airborne early warning
(AEW) capability would be crucial for protecting both the carrier and its
aircraft when operating close to a hostile shore. However, Indian naval
officials have recently suggested that the acquisition of fixed-wing AEW
assets for the new carriers is not a priority.48
Strikes with cruise missiles face a similar range constraint as carrier
aircraft. The 156 nmi range supersonic BrahMos cruise missile is the Indian
Navy’s premier surface-strike weapon. Although the BrahMos is three times
faster than the US Tomahawk cruise missile, with a top speed of Mach 2.5, it
has only one-tenth the range. The same shortcoming also affects the
Russian-designed 3M-54 Klub cruise missile (148 nmi range) in service with
the Indian Navy. Even against a state with a modest anti-access capability,
the relatively short range of these missiles would render surface-launched
cruise missile strikes a risky proposition. A subsonic cruise missile with a
range of 540 nmi, is currently being developed by India’s Defence Research
and Development Organization; however, test flights of the missile have
been repeatedly delayed and are not expected to occur until late 2012 at the
earliest.49
There is mixed evidence to support the idea that power projection is
India’s primary naval concern. Despite doubling its amphibious lift
capability, the Navy has not acquired new amphibious platforms at a
particularly rapid pace. Between 2007 and 2009 the Jalashwa and three
Shardul class LSTs were acquired; however, prior to that, the only
acquisition was a single Magar LST in 1997. Consequently, a number of
India’s amphibious ships – including the second-hand Jalashwa which was
originally launched in 1968 – are quite old. Moreover, the land-attack
capability India is acquiring is poorly suited to carry out strikes against states
with even a rudimentary anti-access capability. This suggests that rather than
the projection of hard maritime power abroad a focus on the ‘softer’ aspects
of power projection, such as the disaster relief and non-combatant
evacuation missions that have won the Navy international praise in the past,
are a focus of naval development.
Securing Shipping

The imperatives of protecting India’s trade and energy lifelines is a third

factor posited to motivate naval development. As ships transit the open
ocean, which Mahan described as ‘a great highway … over which men may
pass in all directions’, they follow ‘some well-worn paths’ known as trade
routes in a previous age and sea lines of communication (SLOCs) today.50
The sea remains the primary medium for transporting goods worldwide,
which raises concerns for trading nations that vital sea lanes could be
disturbed by piracy, war or the actions of a hostile power.
Indian naval enthusiasts have long argued that ‘the essential dependence
of [India’s] trade on maritime traffic …’ means ‘… the economic life of
India will be completely at the mercy of the power which controls the
seas’.51 In this vein, the Navy’s early leaders believed their primary purpose
was ‘the protection of India’s shipping and lines of communication’.52
Today roughly 90 per cent of India’s trade by volume and 77 per cent by
value is seaborne, and of the country’s top 10 trading partners only one
shares a border with India.53 Since the economic reforms initiated in 1991,
the importance of international trade to the Indian economy has increased
appreciably. India’s import and export of merchandise, in current dollars,
was 14 times larger in 2010 than it was in 1991, while its trade-to-GDP ratio
has climbed from 17.1 per cent in 1991 to 43.6 per cent in 2009.54 Physically
situated adjacent to the primary maritime trade routes crossing the Indian
Ocean, India’s Maritime Strategy notes that ‘being the major maritime
power in the [Indian Ocean region], a large part of the responsibility for
ensuring the safety of international shipping lanes devolves upon the Indian
Navy’.55
The significance of the goods trade for the Indian economy is trumped by
the need to guarantee adequate energy resources for sustained economic
growth. India’s oil consumption is expected to double present day
consumption by 2025 and by some estimates India is expected to become the
world’s third largest energy consumer by 2030.56 As the Navy’s Maritime
Strategy recognizes, ‘India’s entire development process depends on the
availability of energy resources’.57 Imports are expected to account for 80
per cent of the India’s energy needs by the first quarter of the century.58 With
Saudi Arabia (18 per cent), Iran (16 per cent), Kuwait (10 per cent) and Iraq
(9 per cent) emerging as India’s principal sources of foreign oil, nearly 65
per cent of its energy comes from the Persian Gulf.59 The Navy’s Maritime
Strategy explicitly notes that protecting the country’s oil and gas supply lines
‘will remain a primary responsibility of the Indian Navy’.60
The ability to exert sea control along the entire distance of India’s
primary sea lanes is a prerequisite for securing the country’s trade and
energy flows.61 This means not only in the northern Indian Ocean, but as far
as the Strait of Hormuz to the west and the Straits of Malacca to the east.
The capacity to exercise control over the surface, air and subsurface of a
given area is a prerequisite for protecting sea lanes in the open ocean against
a hostile naval power. A fleet optimized to guard SLOCs will have a robust
anti-surface warfare capability including advanced maritime surveillance
and precision-strike capability; open ocean ASW capability; and area air
defence provided by modern destroyers or aircraft carriers.62
At the end of the Cold War, the Indian Navy possessed two light fleet
carriers, five Rajput class (RU: Kashin II variant) guided-missile destroyers
and a dozen frigates of various classes. The destroyers were equipped for
anti-aircraft roles, with SA-N-1 surface-to-air missiles providing local area
air defence with a range of 19 nmi. The Navy’s destroyers and frigates all
possessed modest anti-submarine warfare capabilities in the form of basic
hull-mounted sonar systems torpedo tubes, anti-submarine rocket launchers,
and a total of 11 embarked ASW helicopters. The principal anti-surface
weapon aboard these ships was the 37 nmi ranged Russian SS-N-2C ‘Styx’
missile.
Over the past two decades the quality of the surface fleet has improved in
key areas. The three Delhi class guided-missile destroyers, commissioned in
the late 1990s, are the largest indigenously designed and built vessels in the
Indian Navy with a displacement 25 per cent greater than the Rajput series.
During the same period, the Navy has added three new classes of frigate, the
Brahmaputra, Talwar (RU: Krivak III) and Shivalik – the last of which are
nearly the size of the Delhi class destroyers. Anti-surface capability on these
new platforms come in the form of the 70 nmi SS-N-25 ‘Switchblade’ anti-
ship missile – which is equivalent to the US Navy’s Harpoon Block 1C – as
well as the supersonic BrahMos. In the ASW realm, the deployment of
modern towed array sonar provides an ASW capability that is significantly
better than the old hull-mounted panoramic sonar. Moreover, the surface
fleet’s combined complement of embarked ASW helicopters has tripled over
the past two decades as virtually every destroyer and frigate now carries one
or more Sea King, Druv or Helix ASW helicopter. The picture is not quite as
bright in the air-defence realm where the Delhi class’s SA-N-7 Gadfly – one
of the most effective intermediate-range ship-to-air missiles in use today –
provides local area air defence for the fleet to a range of 17 nmi. The Talwar
frigates are equipped with a slightly more modern surface-to-air missiles
than the Delhi destroyers, which with a range of 24 nmi provide a moderate
level of fleet air-defence capability that is a qualitative step up from the
Navy’s capability in 1991. However, these systems contrast unfavourably
with the 80 nmi ranged SA-N-20 SAMs on the Chinese Luzhou class
destroyer or the 100 nmi extended-range standard missile employed by the
United States Navy.
In light of the twin observations that carrier capabilities experience
increasing marginal returns with respect to size and that 50,000 tons is the
cross-over point where carrier-based aviation is cheaper than land-based
counterparts, India’s decision to opt for medium-sized (40,000 ton) carriers
is suggestive.63 These ships’ expected complement of Mig-29K and the HAL
Tejas fighters can provide area air defence for a naval task force, but, as
previously noted, would not have significant strike capability against land-
based targets. Progression from light fleet carriers to medium-sized ones,
rather than jumping directly to a 60,000+ ton platform as the Chinese are
attempting to do, is a linear step in line with India’s growing domestic
technology base; however, it is also suggestive of the Navy’s priorities that
these medium-sized carriers are more suited for sea-lane protection that
power projection.
In contrast to the other two factors, there is the most evidence to support
the idea that sea-lane security is driving India’s maritime development. In
comparison to the ‘threats’ posed by extra-regional navies or the need to
project naval power to signal great power status, the fact that the Navy’s
surface fleet has received the bulk of the attention vis-à-vis the submarine
and amphibious fleets over the past two decades suggests that the
vulnerability of India’s overseas trade and energy supplies are the most
salient needs for India’s political-military leadership to address. The fleet’s
complement of destroyers and frigates has seen a host of new designs, some
of which exhibit significant upgrade in capability from their predecessors.
Antisurface warfare capability demonstrates the most robust improvement;
however, the advance in the fleet’s area air defence is also an important
improvement, albeit far from the best in the world.
Bureaucratic Politics?

Given this chapter’s focus on external factors driving naval procurement

decisions, before concluding it is reasonable to ask whether this behaviour is
better explained by bureaucratic politics either within the Navy or the armed
forces more broadly?64 A comprehensive answer to this question is beyond
the scope of this chapter, but it is possible briefly to explore these two issues.
Since each of the services develops their procurement and acquisition plans
in isolation, the natural starting point would be the intra-service politics of
the Indian Navy. It has been suggested, for example, that in the US Navy
dominant communities such as carrier aviation and attack submarines garner
a disproportionate share of appointments of officers at the highest levels and
resources for their own projects at the expense of lower prestige
communities.65 Thus, overall naval plans may be a reflection of the desires
of these powerful sub-components rather than the rational preferences of the
organization as a whole. In the Indian Navy, the dominant community is the
executive branch. Unlike engineering and electrical officers, only officers
from the executive branch can exercise command of ships, submarines and
aircraft, and therefore have any chance of achieving the highest ranks in the
Navy. One result of this configuration is that the individual identities of
officers as aviators or submariners do not arouse the same parochial feelings
about their platform community that they might in other navies. Moreover,
with the leadership of the Navy at the highest levels chosen solely on the
basis of seniority (age), it would be very difficult for a particular community
to ensure its prolonged dominance of the organization as a whole. Indeed,
during the 20-year period covered by this study, the Indian Navy has been
variously led by aviators, communications specialists, amphibious warfare
officers and submariners, among others. Thus, there is reason to believe that
intra-service politics has less of an impact in shaping service priorities than
might be the case in other navies.
With respect to the impact of inter-service politics on acquisition plans,
the situation is somewhat similar.66 There is no doubt that inter-service
politics exist in the Indian military, as in all militaries.67 However, it is not
clear that it plays a major role in shaping acquisition plans; indeed, a major
critique of Indian defence acquisitions is that each of the services develops
its plans in isolation.68 Rather than pitting the three services against each
other, an environment of expanding defence budgets appears to have led the
heads of the three services to enter into a tacit agreement not to stand in the
way of each other’s priorities when formulating an integrated acquisition
plan for the armed forces. According to a former Chairman of the Chiefs of
Staff Committee, Admiral Arun Prakash, ‘commenting on the acquisition
plan of the other services was considered taboo and, as a result, the
integrated plan was a bundle of all of our plans’.69 As a result, it falls to the
civil servants of the Ministry of Defence to prioritize the services’
procurement plans and undertake major procurement decisions.70 This
system has not resulted in effective integration of service strategies;
however, it is not clear that it has resulted in interservice competition to the
point where it plays a key role in driving naval acquisition decisions. Thus,
while intra- and inter-service politics undoubtedly affects the Navy’s
acquisition decisions on some level, it is more fruitful to explore the external
pressures driving decision-making about the fleet than the internal ones.

Conclusion

Modernizing, but not growing, is the best way to describe developments in

the Indian Navy since 1991. Although, the pace of this modernization does
not suggest significant pressure to quickly improve naval capabilities, the
fleet of 2011 is significantly more capable it was in 1991. A review of both
the risks faced by India and the acquisition patterns of the Navy suggests
modernization is being driven primarily by the desire to secure the country’s
sea lanes to protect the flow of trade goods and energy resources. Some
evidence suggests that the desire to enhance maritime power projection
capability is also a motivating factor; however, given the modest pace of
amphibious platform acquisition and the lack of supporting assets to
facilitate operations in hostile littorals, the focus appears to be on the softer
aspects of power projection rather than on the meaningful projection of hard
military power ashore. Finally, there is very little support for the idea that
concern about extra-regional navies is driving Indian naval modernization as
evidenced by the Navy’s relative neglect of its submarine fleet.
Together, the ability to protect sea lanes and project soft maritime power
across the region suggests that India is primarily focused on providing public
goods that can benefit all nations of the region in a manner befitting a
regional hegemon.71 Like any pattern of behaviour, the trends exhibited over
the past 20 years are not immune to exogenous shocks. For example,
settlement of India’s border disputes with Pakistan and China could finally
allow the Navy the defence resources necessary to develop a true blue-water
power projection fleet. Conversely, if China were to unexpectedly
consolidate its maritime position in East Asia in a manner that allows it to
redirect significant naval assets towards the Indian Ocean – which requires
resolving the Taiwan issue and establishing of a favourable naval balance
vis-à-vis Japan and the US – the Indian Navy may be compelled to focus its
energies on developing a robust sea-denial force. Apart from these kinds of
significant geopolitical developments, however, the Indian Navy’s medium-
term priority will probably continue to be the development of a SLOC-
defence, sea-control capability.
 1 On the Indian naval modernization generally, see Anand Giridharadas, ‘India is Projecting its
Military Power’, New York Times, 22 September 2008; Bruno Alexander de Paiva, ‘India’s Naval
Modernization Program’, Jakarta Post, 23 May 2011. South Asian commentators expressing concern
about the Indian Navy include Md. Khurshed Alam, ‘Expansion of the Indian Navy’, Daily Star
(Bangladesh), 16 June 2007; ‘Indian Military Growth Threatens Regional Stability’, Agence France-
Presse, 26 February 2010; Syed Jafar Askari, ‘Growth in Indian Navy Matter of Concern’, The
Nation (Pakistan), 2 June 2010; and Masood-Ur-Rehman Khattak, ‘Indian Military’s Modernisation:
A Threat To Strategic Stability Of South Asia’, Eurasia Review, 26 March 2011. For concern about a
naval arms race in Asia, see Robert Kaplan, ‘Lost at Sea’, New York Times, 21 September 2007;
‘Chasing Ghosts’, The Economist, 11 June 2009; Edward Wong, ‘As Chinese Navy Extends Reach,
Pacific Governments Grow Uneasy’, New York Times, 15 June 2011.
2 Analysts suggesting the Indian navy is rapidly growing include ‘Asia’s Navies: Into the Wide
Blue Yonder’, The Economist, 5 June 2008; Syed Jafar Askari, ‘Growth in Indian Navy Matter of
Concern: Noman’, The Nation (Lahore), 2 June 2010. For a sceptical view, see ‘Report No. 32 –
Indigenous Construction of Indian Naval Warships’ (New Delhi: Comptroller and Auditor General,
2010).
3 These figures are drawn from various editions of the International Institute for Strategic Studies’
Military Balance between 1991 and 2011.
4 Geoffrey Till, Seapower: A Guide for the Twenty-First Century (London: Frank Cass, 2004), p.
114. This proxy does have limits: as two prominent naval analysts note, the container-ship Emma
Maersk has more than half again the displacement of a Nimitz-class aircraft carrier, ‘yet no one
would mistake such behemoths for warships’. James Holmes and Toshi Yoshihara, ‘Understanding
Asia-Pacific Sea Power’, The Diplomat, 21 October 2010, http://the-
diplomat.com/2010/10/21/understanding-asia-pacific-sea-power.
5 These figures are drawn from various editions of the International Institute for Strategic Studies’
Military Balance between 1991 and 2011.
6 Surface-to-air missiles with a range less than 8.6 nmi (16 km) are not included because they are
considered to be strictly self-defence systems. For more discussion, see Robert Work, ‘The U.S.
Navy: Charting a Course for Tomorrow’s Fleet (Washington, DC.: Center for Strategic and
Budgetary Assessments, 2008), p. 10. All ranges in this chapter are given in terms of nautical miles.
One nmi = 1.85km (1.15 miles).
7 Budget figures come from Ministry of Defense Defence Annual Reports and Rahul Roy-
Chaudhury, India’s Maritime Security (New Delhi: Knowledge World, 2000): 146. These figures are
not adjusted for inflation.
8 For suggestions that the Navy could achieve 20 per cent of defence spending, see David Scott,
‘India’s Drive for a “Blue Water” Navy’, Journal of Military and Strategic Studies, 10(2) (Winter
2007-2008), p. 14 and James Holmes, Andrew Winner and Toshi Yoshihara, Indian Naval Strategy in
the Twenty-First Century (London: Routledge, 2009), p. 82. For the 30 per cent recommendation, see
Standing Committee on Defence, Ministry of Defence – Upgradation and Modernization of Naval
Fleet (1998-99), Third Report, Twelfth Lok Sabha, 21 December 1998, p. 8.
9 Jakub Grygiel, Great Powers and Geopolitical Change (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University
Press, 2006), pp. 169-70.
10 Compare, for example, Report to the Admiral of the Fleet, ‘India and the Royal Indian Navy’,
31 August 1949, p. 3, cited in Rahul Roy-Chaudhury, Sea Power and Indian Security (London:
Brassey’s, 1995), p. 29 with Gary Sojka, ‘The Missions of the Indian Navy’, Naval War College
Review, 36(1) (January-February 1983): 4-5 and Iskander Rehman, ‘An Ocean at the Intersection of
two Emerging Maritime Narratives’, paper presented at ‘From Regional Sea to Global Lake: The
Indian Ocean in the XXIst Century’ (German Marshall Fund: Washington, DC, 12 November 2010).
 11 On the value of “talk” versus “actions” in signaling intentions, see Charles L. Glaser, ‘Political
Consequences of Military Strategy: Expanding and Refining the Spiral and Deterrence Models’,
World Politics, 44(4) (July 1992): 509 and Raymond Garthoff, ‘On Estimating and Imputing
Intentions’, International Security, 2(3) (Winter, 1978): 26.
12 Stansfield M. Turner, ‘Designing a Modern Navy: A Workshop Discussion’, in Sea Power and
Influence: Old Issues and New Challenges, ed. Jonathan Alford (Farnborough: Institute for Strategic
Studies, 1980), p. 67.
13 Rising states such as India can expect to face challenges from other major powers who would
seek to curb its rise for fear that in the future this peer-competitor could pose a threat to their own
security. Nicholas Spykman, America’s Strategy in World Politics: The United States and the Balance
of Power (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1942), p. 21. For an extended treatment of this argument, see
John Mearsheimer, The Tragedy of Great Power Politics (New York: W.W. Norton, 2001).
14 Eric Margolis, ‘India Rules the Waves’, US Naval Institute Proceedings, 131(3) (March 2005):
70.
15 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), INBR-8, Indian Maritime Doctrine,
2004, p. 56.
16 K.M. Panikkar, India and the Indian Ocean: An Essay on the Influence of Sea Power on Indian
History (New York: Macmillan, 1945): 7; Indira Gandhi, Opening Address, Commonwealth Heads of
Government Meeting, Asia-Pacific Region, New Delhi, 4 September 1980.
17 The characterization of the event as gunboat diplomacy comes from Stephen Cohen and Sunil
Dasgupta, Arming without Aiming (Washington, DC.: Brookings, 2010), p. 75. The quote comes from
James Holmes, Andrew Winner and Toshi Yoshihara, Indian Naval Strategy in the Twenty-First
Century (London: Routledge, 2009), p. 39.
18 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), INBR-8, Indian Maritime Doctrine,
2004, p. 52.
19 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Freedom to Use the Seas: India’s
Maritime Military Strategy, 2007, p. 41.
20 B. Raman, ‘Hambantota & Gwadar: An Update’, South Asia Analysis Group, 12 June 2009;
Mukul Devichand, ‘Is Chittagong One of China’s “String of Pearls?”’, BBC News, 17 May 2010;
Nitin Gokhale, ‘How India is Undoing China’s String of Pearls’, Rediff.com, 7 October 2010.
21 Harsh V. Pant, ‘India in the Indian Ocean: Growing Mismatch Between Ambitions and
Capabilities’, Pacific Affairs, 82(2) (Summer 2009): 290. For a similar view, see Scott, ‘India’s Drive
for a “Blue Water” Navy’, p. 1. Long-time scholar of Indian maritime issues Rahul Roy-Chaudhury
calls China’s presence in the Indian Ocean the Indian Navy’s ‘key strategic challenge’. Rahul Roy-
Chaudhury, ‘Maritime Ambitions and Maritime Security’, presentation delivered to the 5th Berlin
Conference on Asian Security, 30 September 2010, www.swp-
berlin.org/fileadmin/contents/products/projekt_papiere/Roy-Chaudhury_BCAS2010_web_ks.pdf.
22 Michael O’Hanlon reports that generally, ‘only about 20 percent of the world’s coastlines are
considered suitable for amphibious assault’. Michael E. O’Hanlon, The Science of War (Princeton,
NJ: Princeton University Press, 2009), p. 91.
23 Quoted in Geoffrey Barker, ‘Jostling Giants’, Inside Story, 4 February 2011,
http://inside.org.au/jostling-giants.
24 ‘Military and Security Developments Involving the People’s Republic of China’ (Washington,
DC: US Department of Defense, 2010), pp. i, 45 and James Holmes and Toshi Yoshihara, ‘China’s
Naval Ambitions in the Indian Ocean’, Journal of Strategic Studies, 31(3) (2008): 368.
25 Owen Cote, ‘The Third Battle: Innovation in the U.S. Navy’s Silent Cold War Struggle with
Soviet Submarines’, Newport Paper, No. 16, 2003, p. 1; Eric Grove, Sea Power (London: Routledge,
1990), p. 134.
 26 ‘Report No. 16 – for period ended 2008-09 Union Government (Defence Services) – Air Force
and Navy’ (New Delhi: Comptroller and Auditor General, 2010), p. 30.
27 ‘Navy to Train for Scorpene Subs’, Times of India, 18 May 2011,
http://articles.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/2011-05-18/india/29555290_1_scorpene-project-mdl-
project-75.
28 Eric Wertheim, ‘World Navies in Review’, U.S. Naval Institute Proceedings, 136(3) (March
2010): 45.
29 Sandeep Unnithan, ‘France to Offer Bigger Scorpenes for $5 Billion Indian Submarine Order’,
India Today, 6 December 2010.
30 ‘Biggest Military Deal: Six Subs for Rs 50,000 crore’, Times of India, 11 July 2010.
31 On the link between military power projection and great power status, see Hedley Bull, The
Anarchical Society (New York: Columbia University Press, 1995), p. 195; Mearsheimer, The Tragedy
of Great Power Politics, p. 81; Christopher Layne, ‘China’s Role in American Grand Strategy:
Partner, Regional Power, or Great Power Rival?’, in The Asia-Pacific: A Region in Transition, ed.
Jim Rolfe (Honolulu, HI: Asia-Pacific Center for Security Studies, 2004), p. 66; David J. Karl,
‘India’s Emergence as a Great Power: Implications for U.S. Policy in Asia’, speech presented at
MIT’s Security Studies Program Seminar, 21 October 2009; Brahma Chellaney, ‘India’s Missing
Hard Power’, Mint [New Delhi], 21 April 2010. While conventional wisdom suggests India’s
traditional foreign policy orientation all but precludes projection of military power beyond its
territory, this ignores the fact that India has not hesitated to ‘sort out’ its neighbours when New Delhi
felt that its interests were threatened. Moreover, it fails to appreciate that military power projection
has both hard and soft power aspects. Thus, when called upon to do so by national interest, the Indian
military has undertaken armed intervention in the Maldives; compulsion operations in Sri Lanka; and
showed the flag in the South China Sea as well as non-combatant evacuation operations in Lebanon
and humanitarian relief missions in Southeast Asia. For an extended discussion, see Walter C.
Ladwig III, ‘India and Military Power Projection: Will the Land of Gandhi Become a Conventional
Great Power?’ Asian Survey, 50(6) (November/December 2010): 1162-83.
32 Quoted in Amy Zalman, review of Stephen Cohen and Sunil Dasgupta, Arming Without
Aiming, in South Asian Idea, http://southasianidea.com/book-reviews.
33 Since the 1500s the leading maritime powers have been the world’s leading powers. George
Modelski and William R. Thompson, Seapower in Global Politics, 1494–1993 (London: The
Macmillan Press, 1988), p. 13. For a contrary view, see Mearsheimer, The Tragedy of Great Power
Politics, pp. 83–137.
34 Quoted in Roy-Chaudhury, Sea Power and Indian Security, p. 27.
35 ‘India’, Jane’s World Navies, 26 June 2009.
36 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Freedom to Use the Seas, pp. iv, 11.
37 See, for example, Arunkumar Bhatt, ‘Focus on Navy’s Influence on Land Operations’, The
Hindu (Chennai, India), 7 May 2006 and Pant, ‘India in the Indian Ocean’, p. 296.
38 Quoted in Bedi, ‘Getting in Step’.
39 Milan N. Vego, Naval Strategy and Operations in Narrow Seas (London: Frank Cass, 2003), p.
111.
40 Till, Seapower, p. 199; Mearsheimer, The Tragedy of Great Power Politics, pp. 88–9.
41 Mearsheimer, The Tragedy of Great Power Politics, pp. 88–9.
42 J. Paul Reason, Sailing New Seas (Newport: Naval War College Press, 1998), p. 18.
43 Twenty years elapsed between the start of design for the Delhi-class destroyers and the
commissioning of the first platform. The interval was 13 years for the Shivalik-class frigate.
 44 On the distinction between hard and soft military power projection, see Ladwig, ‘India and
Military Power Projection’, pp. 1166–69.
45 For a discussion of ideal platforms for littoral ASW, see Milan Vego, ‘Patrolling the Deep’,
Armed Forces Journal, September 2008. The Navy does have plans to acquire ASW corvettes of the
Kamorta-class, which would be appreciated for this mission; however the first of these will not be
commissioned until mid 2012.
46 O’Hanlon, The Science of War, p. 87.
47 Holmes et al., Indian Naval Strategy in the Twenty-First Century, pp. 86–7.
48 ‘Indian Navy Pursues Fixed-Wing Carrier AEW’, Aviation Week, 16 June 2010.
49 Douglas Barrie and Neelam Mathews, ‘SU-30MKI to Get Indian Nirbhay Cruise Missile’,
Aviation Week, 10 May 2010.
50 Alfred T. Mahan, The Influence of Sea Power upon History (New York: Cosimo Classics,
2007), p. 25.
51 Panikkar, India and the Indian Ocean, p. 14.
52 Quoted in Roy-Chaudhury, Sea Power and Indian Security, p. 27–9.
53 Rahul Bedi, ‘Getting in Step: India Country Briefing’, Jane’s Defense Weekly, 6 February
2008. India’s top 10 trade partners are China, the United States, the United Arab Emirates, Saudi
Arabia, Germany, Singapore, the United Kingdom, Hong Kong, Belgium and the Netherlands.
54 World Bank, ‘India’, World Development Indicators, http://data.worldbank.org/country/india;
World Trade Organization, ‘Time Series on International Trade’, http://stat.wto.org.
55 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Freedom to Use the Seas, pp. 54, 96. See
also Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), INBR-8, Indian Maritime Doctrine, 2004,
pp. 63–4.
56 Michael Kugelman, ‘Integrating Energy Concerns into India’s National Security Strategy’,
Journal of Energy Security (December 2011).
57 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Freedom to Use the Seas, p. 46. For a
similar view from the MEA, see Annual Report 2007–2008 (Delhi: Ministry of External Affairs,
2008): i.
58 Carin Zissis, ‘India’s Energy Crunch’, Backgrounder (Washington, DC.: Council on Foreign
Relations, 23 October 2007) www.cfr.org/publication/12200/.
59 Energy Information Administration Country Analysis Brief, ‘India’ (Washington, D.C.:
Department of Energy, August 2010), www.eia.doe.gov/EMEU/cabs/India/pdf.pdf.
60 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Freedom to Use the Seas, pp. 46, 49.
61 Milan N. Vego, Naval Strategy and Operations in Narrow Seas (London: Frank Cass, 2003), p.
111.
62 For a discussion of the requirements of sea control, see Barry Posen, ‘Command of the
Commons: The Military Foundations of U.S. Hegemony’, International Security, 28(1) (Summer
2003): 11; and Andrew S. Erickson and Lyle J. Goldstein, ‘Gunboats for China’s New “Grand
Canals”? Probing the Intersection of Beijing’s Naval and Energy Security Policies’, Naval War
College Review, 62(2) (Spring 2009): 62.
63 For example, a 50,000-ton carrier can embark almost twice as many aircraft as a 40,000-ton
carrier. ‘New Carriers’, The Naval Review, L(4) (October 1962): 380; for the importance of the
50,000-ton threshold, see Ashley Tellis, ‘Aircraft Carriers and the Indian Navy: Assessing the
Present, Discerning the Future’, Journal of Strategic Studies, 10(2) (1987): 143–4.
64 The classic treatment of bureaucratic politics in policy making is Morton Halperin, Priscilla
Clapp and Arnold Kanter, Bureaucratic Politics and Foreign Policy (Washington, DC: Brookings
Institution Press, 2007).
 65 Carl Builder, The Masks of War: American Military Styles in Strategy and Analysis (Baltimore:
Johns Hopkins University Press, 1989), p. 25. For a contrary view, see Edward Rhodes, ‘Do
Bureaucratic Politics Matter? Some Disconfirming Findings from the Case of the U.S. Navy’, World
Politics, 47(1) (1994): 1–41.
66 For the general suggestions that inter-service politics affect military policymaking, see George
C. Wilson, This War Really Matters (Washington, DC: CQ Press, 2000), pp. 184–5.
67 Anit Mukherjee, ‘Facing Future Challenges: Defense Reform in India’, The RUSI Journal,
156(5) (October/November 2011): 32.
68 Cohen and Dasgupta, Arming without Aiming, pp. 150–1.
69 Quoted in Anit Mukherjee, Failing to Deliver: Post-Crises Defence Reforms in India, 1998–
2011 (New Delhi: Institute for Defence Studies and Analysis, March 2011), p. 40.
70 Mukherjee, ‘Facing Future Challenges’, p. 32.
71 For literature on the hegemonic provision of public goods, see Charles Kindleberger,
‘Dominance and Leadership in the International Economy: Exploitation, Public Goods and Free
Rides’, International Studies Quarterly, 25(2) (1981): 242–54; John G. Ikenberry, ‘Rethinking the
Origins of American Hegemony’, Political Science Quarterly, 104(3) (1989).
 Chapter 3
The Navy as an Instrument of Foreign Policy: The
Indian Experience
C. Uday Bhaskar

The linkage between national policies and the Navy as a potentially

effective instrument of state policy is one of the less-illuminated and
inadequately comprehended tenets of statecraft among the more recently
emerging naval powers. Given the very nature of the domain they operate in
and the calibrated presence-cum-force that they can bring to bear in a given
space-time/politico-military context, navies can be very potent instruments
of national policy in the external context. Hence, national security and
related foreign policy objectives can be positively advanced or burnished –
as the case may be, the caveat being that the national security apex and the
various institutions that are involved in the decision-making and policy
implementation should acquire the necessary comprehension and
competence to synthesize professional acumen – both politico-diplomatic
and naval – with astute empathy, to identify the opportunity and maximize
the advantages that may accrue through the calibrated application of naval
power.
In his comprehensive study on the subject, Ken Booth opines:
Warships have always had more than a fighting function. The governments of naval powers
have frequently employed their warships in a ‘diplomatic’ or political mode, hoping to affect
the thinking and behaviour of other governments with little or no intention or expectation of
using brute force. By diplomatic in this context is meant the use of warships in support of a
country’s general bargaining position, particular negotiating stances and influence-building
tactics, and for representational tasks of various kinds.1

The political use of sea power and related naval forces has been studied in
some depth, and both James Cable and Edward Luttwak have written
extensively on the subject2 – with the menacing Cold War as the backdrop
to their explorations. The foreign policy orientation of a state is predicated
upon advancing, nurturing or protecting the abiding national interest – be it
political, economic or securitym driven. To that extent, the foreign policy of
a state is not an autonomous initiative and is a ‘service’ function – as
opposed to the economic and military capability determinants, which are
akin to the tangible ‘manufacturing’ sector in the modern market lexicon.
This linkage merits recall in the present context while reviewing the Indian
experience.
The last 500 years plus are testimony to this state/sea-power linkage and
colonial history is a case in point where European powers beginning with
Iberia and peaking with England, and later the USA, enhanced their
national power and prosperity through the astute acquisition and application
of naval power. Traditionally the relevance and role of naval power is cast
as a tripod that comprises the military-strategic / operational military role;
the politico-diplomatic; and the policing/constabulary – a wide-spectrum
application that the more perspicacious maritime powers have refined. Over
the last 60 years, post-colonial states such as India and China have become
more cognizant of the trans-border potential of their navies across this
spectrum. This chapter is limited to a review of the Indian experience in
relation to the use of the Navy as an instrument of foreign policy.
The manner in which states and their decision-making elite understand
and use military force is one variant of national strategic culture and within
this framework, the use of naval/maritime power is a special subset;
particularly so, considering India’s distinctive geographic identity and
maritime configuration. The historical experience, even as regards Europe
is concerned, would suggest that in similar circumstances, while some
nations like England acquired a noticeable maritime empathy, the same
texture is not evidenced in the case of France or Germany.
In the Indian context, after the nation acquired freedom from British rule
on 15 August 1947, the political apex of the nascent post-colonial state had
a limited understanding of the application of military power for advancing
foreign policy objectives. Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, the first Prime Minister
(1947–64) who set the template for the use of the armed forces in the
pursuit of national objectives and the subsequent contour of civil-military
relations in free India, exuded the liberal disdain for the use of force.
Personally, Nehru had an uneasy relationship with the top military brass and
saw the institution of the fauj (military) in its colonial hue. The fear of a
coup d’état by Indian generals, however invalid, was always lurking, and
the manner in which the Pakistani Army was positioning itself added to the
anxiety of the Indian political class – and this fear was perhaps insidiously
stoked by some sections of the bureaucracy.
Consequently, civilian political supremacy, which is sine qua non for a
credible democracy, was interpreted in the Indian context in such a manner
that it was the permanent bureaucracy, which ostensibly mediated the
relationship between the political apex and the military, and thus
appropriated both primacy and continuity in India’s higher defence
management. Hence, the Indian armed forces were never encouraged to
contribute meaningfully to higher decision-making and the management of
national security and related foreign policies at the politico-military level.
The Indian military was confined to the cantonment physically and
institutionally in more ways than one.
This was (and is) regrettable but perhaps predictable, against the
backdrop of the very unique trajectory of the Indian freedom struggle,
which was spearheaded by Mahatma Gandhi – the apostle of non-violence
(ahimsa). Paradoxically, Gandhi himself, as a paramedic, had seen war
first-hand in the Boer War; and barring Netaji Bose who formed the Indian
National Army (INA), no Indian political leader of that period had any
direct knowledge or contact with the military as an institution – except in
the colonial construct.
This chasm between the higher levels of the political and military
leadership was further aggravated in the latter phase of Pandit Nehru’s
tenure as the PM with the appointment of Krishna Menon as Defence
Minister, which culminated in the humiliation of the 1962 border war with
China. This is a scar that has been deeply internalized by India and, even
after 50 years, it is not evident that the appropriate lessons have been learnt
and the civil-military institutional imbalance redressed. The immediate fall-
out of 1962 was the manner in which a frazzled India determinedly turned
its strategic gaze northwards towards the Himalayas – and reviewed its
military preparedness – particularly that of the Army and the Air Force.
‘Sea-blindness’ was the corollary, and this was when the Indian Navy was
relegated to Cinderella status by way of funding support.
It is against this backdrop, that this chapter reviews the use of the Navy
as an instrument of foreign policy by the government of the day; and argues
that post the 1962 debacle with China – till the mid 1980s, the Indian Navy
was not perceived by the Indian security apex as a possible instrument of
foreign policy. Even when it was either utilized, or deployed – the co-
relation between the deployment of naval forces and the Indian foreign
policy objectives remained tenuous or at best, opaque. For instance, Pandit
Nehru’s choice of sailing on the cruiser INS Delhi to Indonesia in 1950
seems to be devoid of any foreign policy consideration and was seen as a
much-needed holiday for a very weary Prime Minister. In like manner, India
provided quiet naval assistance to the government of Sri Lanka in 1971
(and later in 1987) when its political leaders were in some distress but this
was kept under wraps given the bi-lateral sensitivities at that time.3
Even in terms of its primary role as an instrument of military power, the
potential of the Indian Navy was not appreciated until as late as the early
1970s. Post the 1962 border war with China, the Indian Navy was relegated
to the back-burner in terms of funding and institutional relevance, and it is
only after the daring exploits in the 1971 war for Bangladesh that the
Cinderella service retrieved its credibility in the national calculus. Even so,
the decade from the mid 1970s remained one of relative insularity as far as
India and matters maritime were concerned; and the national policy was one
of non-alignment that extended ineffectually to seeking to make the Indian
Ocean a Zone of Peace (IOZP).
However, the relevance of the Indian Navy in the foreign policy calculus
underwent a gradual transmutation from the mid 1980s onwards, when PM
Rajiv Gandhi was at the helm (October 1984 – December 1989). During
that period, the Indian military was also deployed in Sri Lanka for IPKF
operations. In hindsight, it may be suggested that one of the catalysts that
sensitized the Indian political apex was the modest but dramatic operation,
wherein the Indian military operating jointly, foiled a mercenary coup d’état
in the Maldives in November 1988. Two Indian Navy ships (INS Godavari
and INS Beas) that were in the vicinity of the Maldives were diverted to
render assistance to the beleaguered Maldivian president and the audacious
coup by mercenaries swiftly snuffed out.
The foreign policy impact of this incident was quite osmotic. In the
domestic context, the personal attention paid by the PM Rajiv Gandhi to the
conduct of the operation laid the foundation for a nascent but valuable
institutional coordination between the Prime Minister’s Office (PMO), the
Ministry of External Affairs (MEA) and the Navy. On the external front, it
is reported that both superpowers – the USA and the (now former) USSR
were appreciative of the Indian effort in contributing to and nurturing
regional stability. Anecdotal evidence suggests that US President Ronald
Reagan was quite surprised and impressed when this event was brought to
his notice at the regular White House briefing at the time.
For a brief period (1989–90), the growth of the Indian Navy was the
flavour associated with India among its principal foreign interlocutors. The
fact that a relatively impoverished post-colonial state had acquired two
aircraft carriers (INS Vikrant and INS Viraat), a nuclear-powered submarine
(INS Chakra) – albeit on lease from the USSR – and long-range maritime
reconnaissance aircraft, apart from designing and building its own warships
(the Godavari class) received critical notice. The Time magazine cover story
of April 1989 is case in point, wherein the title read ‘Superpower Rising:
Propelled by an Arms Buildup, India Asserts Its Place on the World Stage’.4
However, while the rapid development of the Indian Navy boosted India’s
image on the global scene, such development was not leavened in tandem
with astute strategic communications and related naval diplomacy. As a
result, the Indian Navy’s ‘sudden’ acquisition in the late 1980s of potent
platforms caused an adverse impact on the threat perceptions of some
regional countries, particularly the South-East Asian states and Australia.
This ‘void’ was filled soon thereafter with the biennial congregation of
regional navies at Port Blair called ‘Milan’ (Meeting) beginning 1995.
Milan was a highly successful endeavour that contributed in a modest yet
significant manner to assuage the anxieties and sensitivities of the regional
countries, and thereby led to a positive politico-diplomatic effect.
The post-Cold War decade also witnessed the gradual concretization of
other efforts by the Indian Navy to enhance its external profile and contacts.
These included participation in UN peace-support operations in Somalia
(1992–94), the rescue of the hijacked merchant vessel the MV Alondra
Rainbow in 1999 (along with the Indian Coast Guard), the post 9-11 Op
Sagittarius in the latter half of 2002 wherein US high-value ships were
escorted through the Malacca Straits5 and providing sea-front security off
Mozambique for two OAU summits at Maputo.6 Amongst the policy-
makers and even many security analysts in India, the politico-diplomatic
import of the Indian Navy’s first-ever involvement in a UN peace-support
operation in Somalia (and the only one thus far) has received much less
attention than it deserves. It was a momentous occasion for India when the
navy of a developing country (India) not only undertook multifarious tasks
in such a major UN peace-enforcement mission, but in 1994, also
succeeded in safely extracting its troops from the war-torn country amidst a
tense security situation, even as the major Western navies vacillated due to
fear of putting their ships in danger. The symbolic import of the Indian
Navy’s mission did not go unnoticed across the globe.7
Concurrently, the Indian Navy was conducting combined exercises with
many navies and foreign-port visits were becoming more regular. The
politico-diplomatic dividends of such exchanges are not always intangible,
as best exemplified by the case of Myanmar. Since its first port call at
Yangon in December 2002, the Indian Navy’s persistent efforts to develop
an interface with the Myanmar Navy culminated in the participation of a
Myanmar corvette at Milan-2006 in Port Blair, which is the first time in
four decades that a Myanmar warship ever visited any foreign port.8 This
development reflects, albeit modestly, to the contribution of the naval strand
in strengthening India–Myanmar political ties.
On the tactical plane, the IN extended the concept of OTR (Operational
Turn Around) to select foreign ports wherein IN ships could drop anchor to
replenish fuel and rations as a routine activity. This initiative by Naval HQ
proved to be an enabling provision of far-reaching significance as far as the
foreign policy potential of the IN was concerned. The response from the
regional countries was more positive and forthcoming than anticipated and
by 2005, the IN had OTR protocols with as many as 25 nations.
The much-needed institutional consolidation took place in 2004 with
Naval Headquarters according foreign cooperation a certain degree of
autonomy and identity. Prior to this, all foreign cooperation/ interaction by
the Indian Navy was processed through the Director Naval Intelligence
(DNI – one-star rank) in consultation with other branches and directorates.
In 2004, a new two-star post was created, that of Assistant Chief of Naval
Staff for Foreign Cooperation and Intelligence – the ACNS (FCI).
Consequently, the well-conceived Navy Foreign Policy templates were
evolved by then CNS Admiral Arun Prakash and the first incumbent in the
new job – Rear Admiral P.S. Chauhan – an effort that paid rich dividends.
Two swift responses by the Indian national security apex through the
agency of the Indian Navy (in 2004 and 2006 respectively) burnished
Delhi’s external profile in no small measure. The deadly tsunami of
December 2004 that killed hundreds in the IOR and displaced many more
was a natural disaster of immense proportions. It occurred during the
Christmas holiday period and, to the credit of the Indian government,
decision-making was synergized in a swift manner, such that ships of the
Indian Navy were able to reach the worst-hit sites in Sri Lanka, the
Maldives and Indonesia within 12 to 24 hours of the first reports of the
tsunami. Here, the role played by then National Security Adviser (NSA),
J.N. Dixit, Foreign Secretary Shyam Saran and the Chief of Naval Staff
Admiral Arun Prakash warrant special mention. National security
responses, whether impelled by external challenges or natural exigencies,
are a distillate of professional conviction and acumen, complemented by
individual decisiveness; and the 2004 tsunami exuded commendable and
rare synergy between the different organs of the Indian octopus with its
many insular tentacles.
Subsequently, the credibility of the Indian Navy as a force that can
contribute to the common good or weal, as it were, was further burnished
by events that occurred in 2006. These events also reflected the growing
concern amongst the national leadership towards the security of Indian
citizens overseas as an essential element of India’s foreign policy, which
was first articulated by Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru as early as in December
1947.9 In July 2006, ships of the Western Fleet under the command of then
Rear Admiral Anup Singh undertook Operation Sukoon, wherein they
evacuated more than 2,000 civilians from war-torn Lebanon. The people
were mostly Indians, but significantly, also included nationals of Sri Lanka,
Nepal, Greece and Lebanon.10 The assistance rendered to foreign nationals
also served to further burnish India’s credibility to provide succour and
relief as part of its overall humanitarian, assistance and disaster relief
(HADR) capabilities.
Lest it be presumed that the Indian government has acquired the
necessary comfort level and confidence to deploy the Navy with consistent
institutional empathy and ease as an instrument of state policy in the
external domain to protect the national interest, or the lives of its citizens,
an incident from February 2006 is illustrative of the need to hone these
skills on a continuous basis. A dhow, the Indian-flagged MV Bhakti Sagar
with 21 Indians on board was hijacked by Somali pirates off the Gulf of
Aden. The Indian Navy had a destroyer – the INS Mumbai – in the vicinity.
The warship could have been diverted to aid the merchantman and enable
the negotiations for the release of the ship and its crew. Yet the decision-
making in Delhi was constrained by a range of political considerations –
regional and domestic – including the likely response of countries in West
Asia and northern Africa about India’s ‘muscle-flexing’.
As Admiral Prakash, the CNS at the time recounts:
While Mumbai was proceeding with all despatch, a heated debate and discussion raged in the
Cabinet Secretary’s office about the advisability of sending a warship on this mission. At the
end of these deliberations, the MEA sent a written note to NHQ posing a set of rhetorical
questions … Agonizing about how our African and Middle-Eastern neighbours would react to
what was termed as ‘muscle-flexing’ by the Indian Navy (IN), the note vividly illustrated why
India has rightly earned the sobriquet of a ‘soft state’. The essence of the note, which took a
full 24 hours to traverse the corridors of South Block, was contained in one plaintive query
which said: ‘Will we sail a destroyer every time an Indian national is in trouble anywhere?’
The Navy’s emphatic response: ‘Yes of course; if we have one available!’, went unheeded, and
the warship had to be recalled. A few days later, the ship-owner paid ransom to the pirates, and
21 Indian citizens came home, without the Indian state or its powerful navy having lifted a
finger to protect them.11

This incident is being quoted in some detail not so much to cast aspersions
or apportion blame in hindsight – but to draw attention to a deeper issue
that liberal democracies need to internalize, about the use of military force
in a suasive or persuasive manner. As Booth reminds us: ‘During the
exercise of naval diplomacy, however, the main problem will often be the
lack of (politico) diplomatic skill on land rather than the lack of
professional quality at sea’.12
The need to formulate and articulate in the public domain appropriate
principles and guidelines is self-evident and in this regard, the Indian Navy
has embarked upon a commendable initiative in enunciating its central
doctrine. The Indian Navy issued its Indian Maritime Doctrine (IMD) in
2004, and this has since been revised in 2009. The diplomatic role of the
Indian Navy has been elucidated in some detail and while reiterating the
tenet that diplomacy and force have an inherent synergism, IMD (2009)
notes perceptively that ‘The larger purpose of the navy’s diplomatic role is
to favourably shape the maritime environment in the furtherance of national
interests, in consonance with the (country’s) foreign policy and national
security objectives’.13
It is pertinent to note that the Indian Maritime Doctrine (2009) even
provides for Coercion/ Gunboat Diplomacy as a politico-diplomatic mission
that the Indian Navy would need to be prepared for. It notes: ‘Traditionally,
naval forces have been effectively used as tools of coercive diplomacy, as
they signal political intent and military capability without being unduly
offensive since they operate in international waters and can be rapidly
deployed and withdrawn’.14 But the key question that remains is whether
the national political leadership would be able to evolve its strategic thought
and conceptual disposition to be able to employ the full range of military/
naval options cum instruments to advance or protect national interests. In
the past, the Indian government has employed the Indian Navy for coercive
diplomacy, such as during the Kargil conflict against Pakistan in 1999
(Operation Vijay) and against Sri Lanka in 1989 (Operation Jupiter),15 but
these cases have been few and far between.
As part of this nascent institutional outreach, the Indian Navy has
identified ‘constructive maritime engagement’ as part of its diplomatic role
and this is seen as an extension of the ‘build bridges of friendship’ across
the seas initiative. Flag-showing is a traditional naval role but what is
encouraging in the present context is the doctrinal framework in which this
is being located and the modest steps being taken by the Indian Navy to
articulate and disseminate this within the distinctive Indian civil-military
lattice. The launching of the IONS (Indian Ocean Naval Symposium) in
February 2008 in New Delhi by the CNS Admiral Sureesh Mehta is case in
point. The IONS initiative seeks ‘to provide a platform and programmes for
bringing together navies of the IOR, to build friendship, cooperation and
mutual understanding’.16 However, the content and agenda of IONS will be
determined by the politico-diplomatic priorities identified by the Indian
MEA and it would not replicate any other forum with a similar orientation
but anchored in a formal military alliance.
India’s relations with its numerous external interlocutors are conducted
either bi-laterally, multilaterally, regionally or at a global level depending
on the nature of the interaction. This chapter posits that it is possible to
identify a naval/ maritime strand in most of these relationships. The IOR
littoral in the first instance offers many possibilities wherein the Indian
Navy (and the Indian Coastal Guard) could be used innovatively to advance
the larger national interest and burnish India’s profile as a credible power
that can contribute to the larger collective. Hydrography, personnel training,
technical assistance and joint patrols for specific operations are some of the
more visible areas where the Indian Navy can offer tangible benefits to its
external interlocutors. In this context, the need for a tailor-made Indian
Ocean islands policy is imperative – though critics may aver that the
Andaman and Nicobar and Lakshadweep and Minicoy Islands are yet to
receive the same degree of directivity in the national context. Be that as it
may, like the frontier experts in independent India who nurtured distant
regions with empathy, there is a case for conceiving a comprehensive
islands policy in a holistic manner that would focus on Maldives, Mauritius
and Seychelles in the first instance.
Given the slim personnel strength of the Indian MEA, the HR required
for this initiative could be drawn from the cadre of naval officers who could
complement the effort of the mandarins in their diplomatic endeavour.
Increasing the number of naval attaches in Indian missions abroad in the
islands and the IOR littoral, and enabling them to assume greater diplomatic
roles would be a welcome first step and in consonance with the MEA’s
objective of encouraging selective lateral entry into its fold to augment the
current diminutive Indian diplomatic HR pool.
It is relevant to note here the contribution made by the Indian Navy over
the last three years in dealing with a complex, low-level challenge in the
IOR that is as old as sea-faring itself – namely piracy – with adverse
consequences for all the states in the region. Since 2008, the Indian Navy
has been maintaining a robust anti-piracy patrol off the Gulf of Aden to
thwart rampant piracy emanating from the Somalia coast and the exploits of
the INS Tabar in November 2008 have become a benchmark of
professional competence. In the intervening years, the Indian Navy has
escorted more than 2,000 merchant ships (as of end 2011) and of this
almost 80 per cent are foreign bottoms – meaning that they are not Indian-
owned. While this operational tasking is taking a toll on the Indian Navy’s
limited resources, the linkage with the country’s economic interests and
regional credibility is an important determinant in staying the course.
Here, more recent statements by the Indian NSA offer a cue about the
way in which the Indian security policy apex views these developments. In
a survey of India and the global scene, NSA Menon noted:
In today’s world we must also be ready to contribute within our capacity to the global public
goods that are increasingly important to our well-being, such as the freedom of the seas. Are
we ready to shape outcomes on critical issues such as energy security and in areas such as
West Asia? Not yet. We have internal hesitations … our capacities, though growing, are still
limited in certain fields critical to national security.17

The institutional rumination over the relevance of the Indian military in the
furtherance of the diplomatic effort is a dynamic process and it is instructive
that over the last three years there has been a steady and consistent
articulation of such thoughts and formulation in the public domain. In India,
the civil-military interface is a sensitive and subterranean niche and it is not
often that these matters are brought into the public sphere in a normative
manner. Democracies need spirited and informed debate both in the
legislature and within civil society on matters pertaining to national
diplomatic and security policies. While the former remains elusive, given
the priorities of the elected representative in India, a very promising trend is
discernible in recent years. Specific to the maritime domain, senior officials
such as the Foreign Secretary, the Naval Chief and the NSA have spoken on
the subject18 and the distillate of such collective articulation is evidenced in
a comprehensive review of the role of the military in India’s diplomatic
calculus. Delivering the Cariappa lecture, NSA Menon queried:
Should India not be doing much more military diplomacy, particularly when armed forces play
such an important role in the internal politics of countries in our neighbourhood? Of course we
must, and we do so where we can. The Indian armed forces increasing contacts with the world
have been a very useful adjunct to our diplomacy and have brought our armed forces, and by
extension the country, respect for professionalism and competence.

Dwelling on the current regional and global scenario, he added: ‘How do

we apply this approach in today’s complicated situation of multiple threats,
rapid shifts in the balance of power and growing Indian interests abroad?
We are now in a world where the geopolitical centre of gravity is shifting to
Asia and its surrounding oceans’.
While the reference to the utility and possible use of India’s modest but
credible military capability in nurturing the national interest is generic, it is
evident that the Indian security apex is prudently arriving at tentative
formulations that leaven the contemporary techno-strategic military
compulsion with the challenge of arriving at equitable and affordable policy
options. I am belabouring this particular speech by the NSA to extrapolate
to the maritime/naval domain. Moving to the specificity of the region, NSA
Menon opines:
If Asia is our theatre, South Asia is our home. And the situation in South Asia is still fraught.
If our partners in our region so desire we would work with them to provide and enhance
security in the subcontinent, the Asian landmass and the Indian Ocean littoral. India as a
society and nation has by and large made wise choices in the past on matters relating to the use
of force, showing strategic restraint and realism. We have contributed force to internationally
legitimate uses such as UN peacekeeping, while limiting its domestic deployment. Today, we
are in a position to make a greater contribution to global public goods in areas such as
maritime security. At the same time we are moving towards an Indian doctrine for the use of
force, though this is a work in progress.19
’Work in progress’ is an apt and pithy summary of where India is currently
poised in maximizing its military/navy foreign policy linkages. Some
commendable institutional initiatives have been launched and the synergy
between the national security apex, the mandarins and the sailors is
gratifying. However, one institutional trait which has become part of the
Indian DNA merits ontological review. India’s opening gambit on any
exigency that relates to the use of military force begins with the preamble
‘only under UN aegis’. Thus for Delhi, the praxis of the use of force is
metaphorically cast in stone – epitomized by the blue beret of the UN.
Given that India is not a permanent member of the UN Security Council
and is unlikely to become one in the near future, the subaltern role is being
perpetuated wherein the P-5 ‘decide’ where and how to deploy military
force and India ‘executes’. There is a case for India to consider exploring
areas outside the UN ambit that pertain to the common weal, where it
would be part of the decision-making process in its own right and here the
maritime domain offers certain possibilities. The creation of a grouping of
like-minded maritime capable nations under an M(X) banner, where X is
the number of nations willing to join could be explored.
Here it may be instructive to recall the impact of multilateral naval
diplomacy in the prevailing geostrategic environment as related to India. In
the immediate aftermath of the end of the Cold War, in 1992, India
embarked upon its bi-lateral naval exercises with the USA under the
Malabar banner. Given the fact that there was considerable ‘estrangement’
between the two democratic nations during the Cold War decades and more
pointedly so over the nuclear nettle since 1974 (when India conducted its
Peaceful Nuclear Explosion), and little or no direct military contact, the
Malabar initiative was diplomatically significant in the bi-lateral context.
The inherent nature of navies made them the preferred choice for such
interaction.
The Malabar initiative became progressively more robust and in 2007,
the bilateral nature of the exercises was expanded to include Japan,
Australia and Singapore making this one of the largest multilateral naval
exercises in the region. Malabar 07 held in September 2007 was preceded
by a four-party quadrilateral meeting in April of that year which included
the USA, Japan, Australia (all three military allies) and India. Predictably,
this meeting led to a protest from Beijing which subsequently issued a
demarche to the nations concerned. The impact in China may be gleaned
from a commentary in the People’s Daily (21 April 2007) which observed:
‘It is absolutely not new for Japan and the U.S. to sit down and plot
conspiracies together but it is rather intriguing to get India involved’ and
further added that the multilateral exercises were ‘a signal for a new
balance of force in the Asia region’.20
While the conduct of the Malabar exercises at the multilateral level
continued after the individual nations sought to assuage Beijing’s concerns,
what is germane for the current review are the politico-diplomatic ripples
generated by a certain naval initiative – whether intended or accidental is
moot. The more policy relevant strand is the salience and graded cost
effectiveness of diplomatic signalling through naval initiatives in the
current geopolitical context. This conforms to the imperative of ‘strategic
deterrence’ clearly articulated in India’s Maritime Strategy document.21 An
analysis avers that:
There are some indicators that, from the US perspective, China is among the driving factors of
the India–US strategic partnership. While this is not in India’s interest, New Delhi should not
lose sight of its own imperative, namely strategic deterrence against any state (like China) with
an adversarial potential.22

India’s Military Strategy document endorses this by stating: ‘While the

option of formal alliances … is not available … we can however reach out
to our maritime partners or collaborate with friendly nations to build
deterrence’.23 Whether India would be inclined to use this naval option to
better manage its relationship with both the USA and China – its principal
strategic interlocutors – will be a function of the professional acumen in
Delhi and the degree to which, the national security apparatus can discern
the credible and affordable tools it possesses; and furthermore, arrive at a
nuanced balance between posing effective strategic deterrence even while
assuaging regional anxieties.
Unlike the Cold War decades wherein all naval cooperation was under
formal military alliance arrangements, the current global system encourages
flexible and issue-specific coalitions of the like-minded and willing. Thus,
India could embellish its credentials in contributing to the providing of
‘global public goods’ in the maritime domain in a sustained and enhanced
manner. In the years ahead, the traditional global commons will extend
from the maritime arena to encompass cyber and space in a seamless
manner, as the dependency index of individual states and technologically
empowered societies increase in size and scope. Deft positioning is called
for and harking back to NSA Menon’s exhortation for an ‘Indian doctrine’,
it is the contention of this chapter that India needs to holistically review its
latent and yet to be tapped potential for harnessing naval diplomacy in the
larger national interest. Concurrently, the various elements of India’s
complex, policy formulation eco-system must carefully ponder over the
perspicacious counsel offered by Booth about what constitutes ‘effective
naval diplomacy’ – again an extensive prescription which merits full recall.
When used effectively, naval diplomacy in its various guises can reassure, strengthen,
symbolize a growing relationship or commitment, establish rights and interests in near or
distant regions, impress onlookers with the country’s technical competence or diplomatic skill,
restrain allies or adversaries, bolster the strength and confidence of allies and associates or
third parties, encourage or dissuade states in relation to particular policies, signal intentions or
expectations, create uncertainty when necessary, neutralize the naval diplomacy of adversaries,
complicate the problems and planning of adversaries and their associates, deter inimical
actions, foreclose the options of competing states, reduce the confidence of selected targets,
cause loss of faith in the associates of one’s adversaries, discourage opponents, create a
different politico-military environment and set of expectations, increase the level of profitable
interaction with near or distant countries, gain access to new countries, maintain or improve
access with existing associates, and create a degree of dependency and so the possibility for
manipulation. In short effectively employed naval diplomacy can be used (usually
incrementally) to maintain or increase a country’s political influence over allies, associates and
third parties.24

Lest it be construed that naval diplomacy is the ultimate tool, Booth adds
further that there are pitfalls. ‘If naval diplomacy is badly managed, or is
misperceived by relevant onlookers, or even if it is skilfully managed but
none the less perceived in a perverse manner, it can result in the opposite of
all these effects’.25 In short, the challenge for Indian diplomacy and its naval
fraternity is to interrogate and contribute meaningfully to this ‘work in
progress’ that the national security apex has already conceived of in an
innovative manner.
 1 Ken Booth, Navies and Foreign Policy (London: Croom Helm Ltd, 1977), p. 26.
2 James Cable, Gunboat Diplomacy: Political Applications of Limited Naval Force (London:
Chatto & Windus for the IISS, 1971); Edward N. Luttwak, The Political Uses of Sea Power
(Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1974).
3 In early 1971 the Indian Navy provided quiet assistance to the Sri Lankan leadership. (Based on
author’s interview with Vice Admiral M.K. Roy who was the DNI in 1971.) During the signing of the
Indo-Sri Lankan accord on 29 July 1987, two Indian frigates were sent to Colombo on a personal
request of President Jayawardene. This was meant to be a symbolic expression of India’s solidarity
with him to dissuade a domestic coup attempt.
4 Ross H. Munro, ‘Superpower Rising: Propelled by an Arms Buildup, India Asserts its Place on
the World Stage’, Time (New York), 133(14) (April 1989): 6–13, cited in Shyam Babu, ‘National
Security Council: Yet Another Adhoc Move’, in Security Beyond Survival: Essays for K.
Subrahmanyam, ed. P.R. Kumaraswamy (New Delhi: Sage, 2004). This article appeared as the cover
story ‘Super India’ of Time magazine’s issue in India. The international edition of the same issue
carried an abridged version of Munro’s article without any reference to ‘Super India’.
5 Indian warships provided escort to more than 20 American and other coalition ships carrying
high-value cargo through the Straits between April and September 2002. ‘Escort Operations by the
IN in the Straits of Malacca’, Indian Navy press release, 16 July 2002 at
http://armedforces.nic.in/navy/press.htm.
6 ‘Indian Warships to Ensure Security to African Summit’, Times of India, 4 July 2003 at
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/articleshow/60159.cms.
7 For a detailed account of the Indian Navy’s involvement in the UN mission in Somalia, see
Gurpreet S. Khurana, Maritime Forces in Pursuit of National Security: Policy Imperatives for India
(New Delhi: IDSA/Shipra, 2008), pp. 60, 71.
8 Syed Ali Mujtaba, ‘Burmese Naval Chief Meets India’s Military Brass’, Mizzima News, 3 April
2007, at www.mizzima.com/MizzimaNews/News/2007/April/05-Apr-2007.html.
9 For the genesis and trends relating to employment of Indian armed forces for security of Indian
citizens overseas, see Khurana, Maritime Forces in Pursuit of National Security, pp. 72–3.
10 ‘Operation Sukoon for the Evacuation of Indian Nationals from Lebanon’, Ministry of
Defence, Government of India, press release, 24 August 2006, at http://pib.nic.in/release/release.asp?
relid=20224.
11 Arun Prakash, ‘Appeasement Never Pays’, Indian Express, 20 April 2011.
12 Booth, Navies and Foreign Policy, p. 30.
13 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Indian Maritime Doctrine (INBR-8),
August 2009, p. 105.
14 Ibid., p. 26.
15 In 1989, the Indian aircraft carrier INS Viraat (with one infantry battalion and Marine
Commandos embarked) was deployed off the Sri Lankan coast under an operation codenamed
Jupiter. Following President Premadasa’s truce with the LTTE and his abrupt order for IPKF
withdrawal, this was necessary to deter any action by Sri Lankan Armed Forces against IPKF and as
an indicator of India’s resolve to continue the IPKF deployment. Vice Admiral (Retd) G.M.
Hiranandani, Transition to Eminence: The Indian Navy 1976–90 (New Delhi: Lancer Publishers,
2005), pp. 195, 242.
16 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Indian Maritime Doctrine (INBR-8), p.
109.
17 Shivshankar Menon, India and the Global Scene, 16th Prem Bhatia Memorial Lecture, New
Delhi: The Prem Bhatia Memorial Trust, August 11, 2011, p. 14.
 18 Under the aegis of the National Maritime Foundation’s Eminent Persons Lecture Series. These
can be accessed at NMF website at http://maritimeindia.org/speeches-nmf-eminent-persons-lecture.
19 Cariappa Lecture can be accessed at http://faujindia.blogspot.com/2011/10/address-by-nsa-at-
cariappa-memorial.html#!/2011/10/address-by-nsa-at-cariappa-memorial.html.
20 Cited in The Hindu, 14 June 2007.
21 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Freedom to Use the Seas: India’s
Maritime Military Strategy, 2007, pp. 74–7.
22 Gurpreet S. Khurana, ‘India-US Combined Defence Exercises: An Appraisal’, Strategic
Analysis, 32(6) (November 2008): 1058.
23 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), India’s Maritime Military Strategy,
2007, p. 77.
24 Booth, Navies and Foreign Policy, p. 47.
25 Ibid.
 Chapter 4
India’s Aspirational Naval Doctrine1
Iskander Rehman

Introduction

A ‘springboard’,2 ‘a central triangle’,3 ‘a never-sinking aircraft carrier’4 – or,

for the more dramatic, a ‘dagger’5 plunged deep into the surrounding waters
– there has been no dearth of vivid metaphors describing India’s enviable
position at the heart of the Indian Ocean. A simple glance at a map should
provide ample evidence of India’s maritime destiny.
An array of land-driven concerns has, however, since Independence, had
a way of dragging India back to shore, thwarting its sporadic thalassocratic
ambitions. Blessed by its geography, India is cursed by its neighbourhood.
The pan-oceanic vision nurtured under the Raj and shared by great post-
Independence figures such as Nehru and K.M. Pannikar6 has been buried
under the ‘sacred soil’ of the numerous territorial disputes and festering
insurgencies that have convulsed the subcontinent and consumed much of its
leadership’s strategic attention for the past six decades.
The Indian Navy, arguably the most strategic-minded of the three
services, has had to grapple for years with its ‘Cinderella service’7 status,
which has left it with but a meagre portion of the defence budget. Having
played a mostly peripheral part in most of India’s past conflicts8 the Navy
has also been hard pressed to define and justify its role. In such a context,
the latest edition of the Indian Maritime Doctrine9 issued by the Naval
Headquarters, which builds upon both an earlier version released in 2004
and India’s Maritime Strategy (2007)10 provides a vital insight into how the
Navy draws its inspiration and conceives of its present and future mandate in
a strategically dynamic era.
This chapter aims to provide a better understanding not only of the Indian
Maritime Doctrine but also of the larger context surrounding it. Doctrinal
developments do not emerge from a vacuum, and are best understood from
both a cultural and organizational perspective. It will be argued that in the
Indian context, the nation’s complex civil-military and inter-service relations
are key to better gauging some of the motivations underlying the Maritime
Doctrine.
The study proceeds in three parts. Section one focuses on the essence of
the maritime doctrine itself, as well as on the complex institutional setting
which provides its backdrop. The document’s lofty ambitions, when
juxtaposed with the study of current realities, suggest that it may be more
advocatory and aspirational than genuinely reflective of reality. The second
section ventures that India’s naval thought can best be understood as
syncretic, with a variety of traditions shaping the service’s vision and
evolution.
Four different traditions or schools of thought are identified:

• The Indian Continentalist School: more inward than outward-looking,

and which has seldom let maritime issues seep through the mental
barrier of the Himalayas.
• The Raj Pan-Oceanic School: developed at the height of the British
Empire when the Indian Ocean was unified for the first time as a
common strategic space.
• The Soviet School: which is more defensive in orientation, and which
focuses largely on the control of chokepoints and area defence.
• The Monrovian School: through which India, in the tradition of most
regional powers with enviable maritime positions, seeks to extend sea
control over what it perceives to be its maritime backyard.

The third and final section draws on these four models in order to chart out
different potential trajectories for the Indian Navy in terms of its
organization. Depending on changing geopolitical circumstances and shifts
in the institutional makeup of India’s Armed Forces, one, or several of these
schools will take pride of place. This will have a sizeable impact on the
Indian Navy’s deployment patterns, force structure, and planned future
acquisitions.

The Essence of the Maritime Doctrine

An Ambitious Blueprint for a Multidimensional Service

India’s Maritime Doctrine frequently resembles a catalogue of core military
concepts for readers to absorb and integrate, retracing, for example, the
etymology of the word doctrine to the Latin doctrina, a ‘code of beliefs’ or a
‘body of teachings’.11 Military doctrine is defined as providing ‘the
conceptual framework for understanding the role, scope, and application of
military power, and underpins the formulation of military strategy’.12 The
document’s pedagogic vocation is clearly laid out by the then acting Chief of
Naval Staff, Admiral Sureesh Mehta, who states in the foreword that the
doctrine ‘provided a common language and a uniform understanding of
maritime concepts’, as well as serving as the ‘foundation for the Navy’s
operating, planning, organizational and training philosophies’.13
Although Admiral Mehta claims that ‘in view of the ongoing
transformation of both the nation and our navy, a review was overdue’,14 the
changes made in the latest version of the maritime doctrine seem more subtle
than substantial. Many of the more important modifications in the doctrine
appear to flow from the lessons and reforms put in motion after the
devastating 2008 terrorist attacks in Mumbai, in the wake of which the
Congress-led government decided to entrust the Indian Navy with the overall
responsibility for coastal security, bringing both the State Coastal Police and
Coast Guard under its wing. As a result, the 2009 version attaches greater
importance to ‘synergy’ and ‘intelligence-sharing’, both viewed as being
sorely lacking when Pakistan-trained militants slipped in from the Arabian
Sea to leave a trail of bloody mayhem. Some of the former chapters, such as
those outlining the ‘concepts of maritime power’, or ‘India’s maritime
environment and interests’ have been revamped somewhat, and an entirely
new chapter on ‘Naval Combat Power’ has been added. This chapter,
however, remains in the same abstract and didactic mould as most of those
preceding it, merely outlining in half a dozen pages the fact that naval
combat power comprises three elements: conceptual, physical and human,
and listing different categories of vessels. This educational aspect of the
Indian Navy’s doctrine stands in interesting contrast to those promoted by its
sister services, the Indian Army and Air Force, who both define their
warfighting roles in detail. This difference in approach is clearly recognized
in the opening of the doctrine, which states the following: ‘The doctrine
primarily addressed the military-strategic level, whilst it also covers the
operational level. Tactical issues have been deliberately kept outside the
purview of this doctrine, as several other naval publications
comprehensively address these aspects’.15 This self-carved doctrine,
moulded from a professedly higher strategic level, and which merely skims
tactical issues rather than directly addressing them, is key to understanding
what distinguishes the Navy from the other branches of the Indian Armed
Forces. Indeed, the Navy views itself as being a multidimensional service,
capable of taking on many roles, of which warfighting is but one aspect.
This is reflected in the most absorbing section of the maritime doctrine,
which lays out four roles for the Indian Navy: military, diplomatic,
constabulary and benign. These four roles echo to a certain degree those
already identified more than 10 years prior in the Indian Navy’s first
Strategic Defence Review, which were then defined as the following: sea-
based deterrence, economic and energy security, forward presence and naval
diplomacy.16
Two important elements are worth noting, however. First, what was
defined as naval diplomacy in 1998 has been split into two different roles –
benign and diplomatic – in 2009. The Indian Navy has long recognized the
potential offered by vessels in terms of diplomacy and soft power projection.
This has been reflected both in words, via the earlier version of the maritime
doctrine, which defined the Navy as an ‘effective instrument of India’s
foreign policy by generating goodwill through maritime diplomacy’;17 and in
actions, as over the past decade the Indian Navy has frequently displayed
with a certain panache its desire and capacity to be viewed as a provider of
public goods as well as a reliable partner. Indian ships have thus taken part
in a wide range of humanitarian and disaster relief operations over the years,
whether it be in the wake of the devastating 2004 tsunami, or in 2008 after
the Nargis cyclone. India has also engaged in NEOs or Non-Combatant
Evacuation Operations, such as in 2006, when four Indian warships
successfully evacuated more than2,000 Indian, Sri Lankan and Nepalese
citizens from a war-torn Lebanon. Interestingly, NEOs are classified as being
a form of ‘maritime mission and support’, thus falling under the Navy’s
diplomatic, rather than its benign role, in the 2009 doctrine. This provides an
indication of the growing elasticity of the Navy’s perceived soft power role,
where set distinctions are blurred and seem to overlap. Through its multiple
and increasingly institutionalized naval exercises with both regional and
extra-regional navies, and its hosting of multilateral initiatives such as the
Indian Ocean Naval Symposium, the Indian Navy, as some US Naval War
College analysts have noted, ‘clearly sees a comparative advantage for their
service as a diplomatic instrument for New Delhi’.18 The 2009 version of the
maritime doctrine goes so far as to wax in lyrical terms that the mere
presence of an Indian warship with its multi-ethnic and multi-religious crew
in a foreign harbour will contribute to India’s image as a vibrant democracy
abroad.19
Another interesting evolution is the sheer width of the gamut of potential
military roles laid out for the Indian Navy, which, crammed into a small box,
appear to encompass every possible wartime function.
Table 4.1 Military objectives, missions and tasks

The question is whether the Indian Navy currently has the requisite ability to
accomplish all these tasks, whether simultaneously or even sequentially. But
before engaging in such a discussion, it is necessary to pinpoint the more
advocatory elements to what remains first and foremost the doctrine of an
individual service in a country where no official National Security Strategy
yet exists, and where both civil-military and inter-service relations remain
exceedingly complex. In his seminal study of civil-military relations, Samuel
Huntington identified four potential roles for the military in politico-military
affairs: advisory, representative, executive and advocatory.20 Doctrines,
especially when they are released by individual service headquarters, can
serve as vital advocatory platforms. This is even more the case in countries
such as India, where, as it shall be shown, military leaders have, for various
reasons, almost systematically been marginalized from the decision-making
process in matters of national security.

A Complex Institutional Backdrop

Studies of inter-war doctrinal development in Europe have pointed to the

centrality of domestic politics. Indeed, while military doctrine is ultimately
preoccupied with state survival, it also provides a reflection of the allocation
of power within a state. Therefore, in order to understand the interests that
civilian and military officials bring to bear in the formulation of doctrine,
one must also take ‘into account the cultural dimension of domestic politics
and organizational life’.21 In India’s case, civil-military relations, long
marked by Nehruvian fears of creeping praetorianism, have led to a highly
unwieldy and cumbersome system which has had an acutely deleterious
effect on doctrinal and organizational development. Fearful of a drift
towards a militaristic state in the vein of Pakistan, India’s post-Independence
leaders rigorously implemented a tight bureaucratic control of the young
nation’s armed forces.22 The Raj-era post of commander-in-chief of the
Indian military was abolished, and the service headquarters were
downgraded to become ‘attached offices’, organizationally external to the
MOD and therefore removed from major decision-making. Political
scientists have noted that ‘over time, concerns about the distribution of
military power within a state become institutionalized and shape decision
makers’ opinions about military policy’.23 In India this has led to a
dysfunctional state of affairs in which although ‘Indian power is growing
each year, no single agency in the country combines military, diplomatic,
economic and intelligence capabilities into a coherent national strategy’.24
The prolonged absence of a Chief of Defence Staff despite a widespread
recognition of its urgent necessity25 means that the prime forum for inter-
service discussion continues to be the COSC, or Chief of Staff Committee,
which has no decision-making powers, but which is chronically ‘plagued by
the ills inherent to a committee’.26
 In private, Indian officers, while not questioning civilian control over the
military, deplore the ‘unholy alliance between corrupt bureaucrats and
unscrupulous politicians’,27 with more than 80 per cent of those polled for a
1997 Rand monograph stating that their vision of the nation’s interest
frequently differed from that of the government. In public, officers affiliated
to academia or think tanks call more tactfully for a greater ‘cross-pollination
of national security structures with military expertise’, ‘which could pave the
way for institutional equity’.28 In their recent study of India’s military
modernization, Professors Sunil Dasgupta and Steve Cohen observe that
many of the IAS officers seconded to the Ministry of Defence are bereft of
solid expertise, despite their overwhelming influence.29 The problem seems
to be not so much the civil-military relationship in itself (that is, between the
military and elected officials) but rather the extent of technocratic
ossification which has occurred over the years and which, in the view of the
military, presents a formidable ‘bureaucratic barrier preventing them from
making a direct appeal to political leaders’.30 This has led to some incidents
where the Navy has locked horns with the Ministry of Defence and Ministry
of External Affairs, most notably over the 2008 decision to conduct anti-
piracy operations off the coast of Somalia. Some have ventured that the
tension may have revolved around the MEA’s initial refusal to allow the
Indian Navy to conduct naval interceptions.31
Caught in such a difficult institutional setting, it is natural for the Indian
Navy to seek to relay its interests and perceptions through indirect means,
most notably via the widespread diffusion of a doctrine. The desire to
influence and impact decision-makers, as well as the public writ large, is
made clear from the very beginning: ‘The Indian Maritime Doctrine is the
capstone doctrinal publication of the Indian Navy, which is aimed at not just
the professional sea warrior, but also the thinker, planner, supporter and
stake-holder amongst the Navy, other armed forces, government, think tanks,
media and the larger public of India’.32
The reticence of India’s politico-bureaucratic nexus to expedite the
institutionalization of an overarching military command structure has also
had a negative impact on inter-service relations and interoperability.
Although the strategic conceptualization of a blue-water navy has been
present in India since Independence, the Indian Navy has traditionally been
the least favoured branch of the Indian armed forces in terms of resources.
This is due in part, as we shall see, to India’s long-standing continentalist
tradition, but also to more prosaic immediate post-Independence concerns.
Indeed, after a series of brutal frontier conflicts in which navies played at
best a secondary role, India’s main priorities were to strengthen its land
borders and build up its Army and Air Force, which were the primary actors
in the event of a conflict with China or Pakistan. The Indian Navy, no longer
considered as relevant, was relegated to the backseat, its share in the defence
budget even plummeting at one stage to a dismal 3 per cent. Under the
tenures of Indira and Rajiv Gandhi, the Navy spasmodically regained
impetus, but it has only really been over the past 15 years that India’s
political leadership has actively endorsed an ambitious blue-water role.
Nevertheless, to this day the Navy’s share of the defence budget remains
considerably lower than that of the Army or the Air Force, and even the
most optimistic predictions for its future allocation doubt it will climb much
above 20 per cent in years to come.33 Former Naval Officers’ frustration with
their service’s continued ‘Cinderella status’ and over what they perceive to
be a ponderous, strategically myopic Army is occasionally made manifest,34
as is the long-standing tension between the Navy and Air Force over the
sensitive issue of naval aviation.35 Both in its doctrine and Maritime Military
Strategy document, the Indian Navy appears intent on overcoming these
inter-service squabbles and ‘trying to carve out a role for itself in support of
joint operations-particularly support for armed forces in wartime’.36 Former
Chief of Naval Staff Arun Prakash, while railing against the ‘intellectual and
doctrinal cul-de-sac’ that the Indian Army ‘has been driven into’, also
suggests that the Navy can provide the Army with valuable tactical options
by applying ‘intense seaward pressure on the enemy’.37 The idea that the
Indian Navy can be highly effective as a game-changing flanking force is
one which has gained some credence since the Navy’s ‘silent Kargil
victory’.38
It is maybe not a coincidence if the service with the smallest portion of
the defence budget is also that with the most active official publication
record, with the release of two only marginally different versions of the same
doctrine in an interval of five years, interspersed with the release of a
Maritime Military Strategy in 2007. In the Navy’s view, everything must be
done to awaken India’s sluggish maritime consciousness.

The Underlying Motivations of an Aspirational Doctrine

Theorists have identified three core motivations driving military
organizations’ quest for more influence: the wish for enhanced autonomy,
the desire for greater prestige and the more functional hunt for additional
resources, all of which are frequently interconnected.39 These three core
motivations can all be discerned in some way or another in India’s Maritime
Doctrine.
Indeed, the 2009 maritime doctrine indicates that the Indian Navy is
clearly demonstrating its desire for:

• Greater Prestige by having a greater say in the definition of the

country’s core security interests.

This is accomplished through a sustained defence of how the sea can bolster
overall national strategy, as well as by the advancement of the unwavering
‘logic of geography’.40 India’s centrality in the Indian Ocean and peninsular
formation, it is argued, are sure indicators of the nation’s maritime destiny,
and therefore, as a corollary, of the Navy’s great importance. Mention is also
made of the pivotal role the sea plays in India’s economic development, as
close to 90 per cent of India’s external trade is maritime. The Navy,
therefore, is to some extent the ultimate guarantor of India’s sustained
economic development, by virtue of its role in upholding freedom of
navigation and ensuring the safety of SLOCs.

• Greater Autonomy by becoming the core element in India’s second-

strike nuclear deterrent.

This is maybe one of the more important aspects of the document, and one
which has the greatest transformational potential for the Indian Navy. Both
the 2004 maritime doctrine and the 2007 Maritime Military Strategy placed
emphasis on the need for India to invest in a triad of aircraft, sea-based
assets and mobile land-based missiles in order to vaunt a credible second-
strike capability. The 2004 doctrine professes that ‘It has become an unstated
axiom of the post cold war era that an independent foreign policy posture is
inexorably linked with this … deterrent capability’,41 and the 2007 Maritime
Military Strategy adds that ‘the most credible of all arsenals in a second
strike is the nuclear-armed missile submarine’.42 Since then, India’s first
indigenously launched nuclear submarine, the ATV (Advanced
Technological Vessel) has been launched, and it was recently announced that
the construction of its second submarine at a classified facility in
Visakhapatnam had been initiated.43 The second submarine should be ready
for sea trials by 2015, by which time India will also have been operating an
Akula II class nuclear submarine on lease from Russia. In the 2009 maritime
doctrine, sea-based nuclear strike is given pride of place as a key element in
the Indian Navy’s overall ability to deter, which is designated as ‘the primary
military objective for the IN’. The maritime doctrine then adds, ‘The ways
and means of deterrence by the IN would include developing a sea-based
nuclear second-strike capability, in keeping with the Indian Nuclear Doctrine
that lays down a “No First Use” Policy’.44 Reprising the arguments put
forward in the 2007 Maritime Military Strategy, the document states that, in
order to be ‘credible and survivable’,45 India’s nuclear second-strike
capability needs to also be sea-based.
Despite this intense focus on paper, it remains unclear whether in the
short-to-medium term the Navy is both willing and able to make the high
degree of economic and technological investment required for deploying and
sustaining a nuclear submarine fleet. Experts have pointed out that if the
Indian Navy were to maintain a flotilla of four to five missile-armed
submarines on constant patrol, this would engulf much, if not all of its
present budget.46 It remains unclear, as of now, whether the financial burden
of India’s nascent underwater deterrent will be shouldered by the Navy or by
specific government-funded allocations. If this financial millstone is tied
around the Indian Navy’s neck, it will require a far larger slice of the defence
cake. If not, it appears impossible for it to be able to both remain a carrier-
centric force and simultaneously pursue its nuclear ambitions. Some difficult
trade-offs and cornelian choices will need to be made, and it is revealing that
when the official announcement of the construction of a second ATV was
made, there was reportedly some grumbling amongst the more carrier-
focused officers of the IN, who expressed their desire to see ‘the focus …
also shift to the surface vessels that need to be part of the flotilla that
normally accompanies the Air Defence Ship47 (India’s first indigenous
aircraft carrier, currently under construction)’.
It is also unclear when the submarines will be truly operational. The INS
Arihant, which was launched with great fanfare in 2009, had been described
at first as a ‘technology demonstrator’ rather than as a combat vessel.
Recently however, statements from the Naval Chief of Staff have indicated
that the INS Arihant will be deployed on deterrent patrols as soon as it is
commissioned in 2012.48 Furthermore, information surrounding the precise
armament system of the ATVs is shrouded in opacity. The vessels, which
were constructed with extensive Russian assistance, seem to be lighter
versions of the Soviet Charlie class submarine, a model of which the Indian
Navy operated on lease for three years from 1988 to 1991. It remains unclear
whether India’s Defence Research and Development Organization (DRDO)
intends to equip the submarines with short-range ballistic missiles under the
Sagarika Programme, or with nuclear-tipped cruise missiles. In both cases,
the relatively short range of the planned strike systems will compel the
submarines to be on constant vigil uncomfortably close to the prospective
target.49 For the short-to-medium term, it may be in the Indian Navy’s
functional interest to work towards a latent sea-based nuclear capability
rather than to expend its valuable resources in deploying a task force of
operational submarines, thereby applying subtle pressure on the Indian
government to increase its share of the defence budget.
Beyond the simple desire for additional resources, however, the
integration of the Indian Navy as the central pillar of the nation’s nuclear
triad would grant it considerable institutional prestige, as well as a degree of
operational autonomy. In order to fulfil their role as a survivable deterrent,
nuclear submarines on patrol must dissolve into the lower levels of the
ocean, where their acoustic signature is the most reduced. While cruising at
such depths, maintaining communications with shore-based national
command centres is a great degree more challenging than for land-based
nuclear forces.50 The survivability of the nuclear submarine as the ultimate
vector for LAA (launch after attack) hinges upon its furtiveness and absolute
discretion as to its precise patrol route. The induction of a submarine-centred
nuclear deterrent will therefore need to be accompanied by a revamped
system of command and control which, while leaving critical second-strike
decisions in the hands of elected officials, would also entrust a far greater
degree of operational responsibility to the Indian Navy than ever before.

• Greater Resources by stressing the need for a large blue-water fleet

capable of accomplishing the exceptionally wide range of war and
peacetime roles laid out.

The tasks set out for the Navy in the Maritime Doctrine are multiple and
wideranging, whether it be in peacetime or in war. While it is clearly
stipulated that the Indian Navy is to remain a carrier-centric fleet focused on
sea control,51 the service is also expected to be capable of enforcing
blockades, enacting sea denial, mine warfare, harbour defence and anti-
submarine warfare. A Carrier task force is presented as being a versatile
force-multiplier: ‘a self contained and composite balanced force, capable of
undertaking the entire range of operational tasks’.52 Yet India currently only
floats one ageing carrier, which is rasping its last after several refits, in the
hope that its successor, the Vikramaditya, will not fall prey to further delays.
Walter Ladwig’s detailed assessment in a previous chapter of the force
structure and procurement patterns of the Indian Navy reveals that the Indian
Navy is modernizing, but not growing. Indeed, while India’s fleet now
boasts more advanced platforms than at the end of the 1990s, it has in fact
stagnated in purely numerical terms, contracting from 51 capital ships in
1991 to 50 today.53 The gradual withering of its submarine fleet, in
particular, is cause for concern, as is the Navy’s relative paucity in terms of
anti-submarine warfare capability. This puts into question the Indian Navy’s
ability to enact a credible strategy of sea denial geared towards an extra-
regional power such as China and suggests that the fleet may be becoming
increasingly unbalanced in favour of surface ships.
It appears clear that to be able to accomplish all the different tasks,
missions and objectives outlined in the doctrine, the Indian Navy would need
to undergo an exponential increase in size and resources. And yet, as retired
naval officer Ashok Sawhney recently highlighted, the Navy’s capital
budget, that is, the portion of the budget devoted to funding new
acquisitions, amounted in 2009 to 2.5 billion dollars out of a total of 4
billion.54 This amount, notes Sawhney, remains very modest when compared
with some of the other naval budgets in Asia such as China, Japan or South
Korea, pegged respectively at 32,55 11.6 and 4.2 billion dollars. Although the
Navy’s overall budget will continue to expand in nominal terms due to the
overall increase in the defence budget enabled by India’s sustained GDP
growth, it will be hard pressed to fulfil the terms set out in its own doctrine if
it does not receive a more generous allocation. The issue of budgetary
shortfalls becomes even more stark if one considers, as mentioned
previously, the prohibitive costs associated with developing and sustaining a
viable sea-based nuclear deterrent.
A reprioritization of the Navy over other services will only occur,
however, once the fossilized continentalist tradition which still holds sway
over the higher echelons of India’s leadership has given way to the more
strategically minded outlook evident in the maritime doctrine. The latter
must therefore be viewed above all as a well-crafted statement of aspiration,
and as a savvy demonstration of what the Indian Navy could be … rather
than what it currently is.

India’s Syncretic Naval Thought

After having assessed the organizational and functional motivations apparent

in India’s Maritime Doctrine, what are the intellectual influences or
traditions that can be drawn upon in order to better understand its underlying
vision? In the past, writers and theorists have attempted to gain a sense of
India’s naval thinking by applying Western concepts, invoking the more sea-
drenched chapters of the nation’s past, or by applying binary divisions of
Indian naval officers into different schools of thought. It will be suggested
here, that, as always when it comes to India, its thinking on naval matters
can best be understood as variegated and syncretic. Different traditions and
schools of thought have been absorbed and studied, rejected or re-crafted,
and none can be put forward as the overriding or definitive model for fully
apprehending such a complex maritime outlook. This section proceeds to
outline four tentative traditions or schools which can serve as useful stepping
stones in the understanding of the syncretic naval thought undergirding the
maritime doctrine: the Continentalist tradition, the Raj-era panoceanic
vision, the Soviet school, and the Monrovian Ambition.

India’s Continentalist Tradition

India has a rich maritime history, both as hub of trade between the western
and eastern hemispheres, and as a source of peaceful seaborne religious
diffusion.56 Yet its martial history has largely been continental and India has
‘until recently been a land-bound nation framed against the open ocean’.57
Two main factors can be advanced to explain the weight of continentalism in
India’s strategic thinking: the perennial quest for internal consolidation, and
the mental barrier of the Himalayas.
The perennial quest for internal consolidation Much of India’s early history
was characterized by a perpetual struggle between unity and fragmentation,
between the settlements of the dusty plains and the dark stretches of forest
which escaped the bounds of loose sovereignty. Until the advent of the Raj,
the subcontinent was never completely unified as a common strategic space.
Even at the height of the Mauryan and Gupta empires, the tropical, sea-
faring lands of the Dravidian south remained distinct cultural and political
entities, divided from the northern expanses of the subcontinent by language,
snaking waterways and luxuriant jungles. To this enduring north/south
divide must be added the divisions within earlier Indian polities themselves,
whose foremost security concerns revolved around domestic, rather than
foreign affairs. The Laws of Manu, which can be dated to the second century
BC reflect the primacy of domestic concerns, advising the king, after settling
his country ‘to constantly make the utmost effort to clear out the thorns’.58
Similarly, the Arthashastra, viewed by many as the seminal Indian text on
statecraft, devotes equal, if not more attention to internal secessionist or
clandestine activities as it does to external threats.59 William J. Brenner
ventures that in addition to the system of concentric circles, or ‘mandala’
which is famously applied in the Arthashastra to distinguish between allied
and rival states by virtue of spatial adjacency, one can also detect a ‘circle of
anomie’ between the civilized residents of the plains, and the unbending
nomadic inhabitants of the forests.60 Romila Thapar, a renowned Indian
historian, notes that the Arthashastra advises the king not to trust forest-
chiefs and that ‘from the mid first millennium AD onwards there were
references to the uprooting of forest-dwellers, or to their conquest and
assimilation becoming necessary to the foundation of new kingdoms’.61 The
forest was to early Indian polities what the steppe was to Imperial China – a
wild ungoverned territory, whose inhabitants lived on the fringes of civilized
society, and who were to be shunned in times of weakness, or cleansed in
times of strength. In both cases, topography ‘played a role in fostering and
perhaps shaping opposition to imperial unity’.62 This struggle for internal
consolidation, one could argue, persists to this day, whether it be via the
numerous insurgencies that India has experienced throughout its post-
Independence history, or, more strikingly, in the jungle-swathed stretches of
the Naxalite belt where tribal, impoverished inhabitants wage a slow,
grinding conflict against the Federal State which bears troubling
resemblances to the conflicts of the past. This perennial quest for internal
consolidation has fastened India’s political class to the ground, stymied the
development of an outward-looking maritime perspective, and resulted in the
creation of a gargantuan paramilitary apparatus, as well as in the continued
deployment of large numbers of Indian troops in places such as Kashmir.
The mental barrier of the Himalayas Historically, India’s maritime vision
has been stifled under the mental barrier of the Himalayas whose frozen
passes, throughout Indian history, would be anxiously scrutinized by the
people of the Gangetic plains for Central Asian invaders. After
Independence, a series of short, brutal territorial conflicts with India’s two
largest trans-Himalayan neighbours only served to sustain Delhi’s northern
fixation. The continued preponderance of the Army, which dwarfs its sister
services in both size and resources must thus be viewed in this light.
Andrew C. Winner notes that in the absence of an official Indian National
Security Strategy, the closest India has to ‘a publicly articulated strategy’ are
the annual reports of the Ministry of Defence, and that maritime issues are
barely mentioned. He then notes that the contrast between the centrality of
the Indian Ocean in the Indian Navy’s statements and ‘its relative absence in
those of other official Indian pronouncements’ serves as a powerful reminder
of the continued prevalence of land-centric views in Delhi,63 where, some
add, ‘the service (the navy) lacks real political influence’.64 The Indian
maritime doctrine displays an awareness of the challenges that reside in
attempting to unfetter India’s strategic thinking from its continental
shackles-most notably in its opening section ‘Maritime Doctrine in
Perspective’ which attempts to unmoor India from its continental tethers by
crafting a viable historical maritime narrative. Nevertheless, it remains
highly uncertain whether the Navy will prove to as persuasive as the 2009
doctrine would suggest.

The Raj’s Pan-Oceanic Vision

At the height of the Raj, a unified British India sat squarely in the midst of a
pacified Indian Ocean, where its influence stretched from rim to rim. After
the French Admiral De Suffren left the bay of Bengal in 1783, the Indian
Ocean was unified for the first time in history as a common strategic space: a
British lake, where no foreign power could afford to stage a sizeable military
presence without attracting the immediate attention of the Royal Navy,
whose attitude in the Indian Ocean was both proprietorial and assertive. In
1905, when the Russian Admiral Rozhestvensky steamed his ramshackle
fleet of antiquated ships from Kronstadt around the Cape of Good Hope and
towards the East China Sea where it was to be eventually sunk by the
Japanese, he was contemptuously shadowed by British heavy cruisers for
thousands of miles.65 British India, the Empire’s ‘garrison in eastern seas’,
served as a staging point for expeditionary warfare. This could range from
punitive ‘butcher and bolt’ expeditions such as the one launched in 1867
against an unruly Abyssinian emperor, and which comprised more than
13,000 British and Indian soldiers accompanied by 26,000 camp followers,66
to mass-shipments of Indian troops to fight in both worlds wars, where they
served everywhere from the dry deserts of the Sahara to the mud-caked
fields of Flanders. Ships were dispatched from Bombay and Madras to patrol
the Persian Gulf and protect sea lanes from rapacious Arab slavers and
pirates. The two-centuries-old peace dividend in the Indian Ocean came to a
brutal, shuddering halt in 1942 when Singapore, the great bastion of the east,
fell to the Japanese. As the emperor’s troops blitzkrieged their way through
Malaya, and the first bombs started to rain down on Calcutta, the moral and
physical collapse of Britain’s Eastern Empire ‘seemed an event so
extraordinary and unprecedented that panic spread through the civilian
population (in India) across thousands of miles’.67 With the intrusion of
Japanese ships into the Indian Ocean, the Raj’s pan-oceanic vision had come
to an end.
Recently, however, certain Indian strategists have been calling for a
revival of Raj-era pan-oceanism. Chief amongst the revivalists is C. Raja
Mohan who, in the vein of the famed Indian historian K.M. Pannikar, draws
on the Raj’s history of expeditionary warfare to encourage India to become a
more assertive maritime power and extend its influence over the entire
Indian Ocean region.68 External analysts have astutely noted that ‘in the past
five years all three branches of the Indian armed forces have articulated the
need to be able to operate beyond India’s borders’,69 and that the 2007
maritime strategy places great emphasis on the need for the Navy to be able
to ‘project power’ abroad. This focus on power projection is equally evident
in the 2009 maritime doctrine, which outlines what appears to be a Raj-like
pan-oceanic vision with primary and secondary areas of maritime interest.
The primary zone stretches as far as the Persian Gulf, whose narrow
channels were once patrolled by the British Indian fleet, and the secondary
zone, interestingly, extends all the way to the Red and South China Sea.70
This panoceanic vision seems to be shared, to some extent, by elements of
the civilian leadership in their official statements. Former BJP Prime
Minister Vajpayee, for example, stated in 2003 that India’s ‘security
environment ranged(s) from the Persian Gulf to the Straits of Malacca across
the Indian Ocean … and South-East Asia’,71 and his expansive definition
was then reprised a year later by his Congress successor Manmohan Singh
who declared that India’s ‘strategic footprint covers the region bounded by
the Horn of Africa, West Asia … South-East Asia and beyond, to the far
reaches of the Indian Ocean’.72
While it seems evident that there is a tendency in India to view the Indian
Ocean as India’s Ocean, one should not presume, however, that this will
induce India to attempt in the short-to-medium term to turn what remains a
vague sentiment or aspiration into a more fungible reality. As Harvard
historian Sugata Bose wisely cautions, ‘One has to be careful about
switching too easily between the past and present tenses of Empire’.73 India’s
geopolitical circumstances in this century are wildly different from those of
the Raj in its heyday. Segmented and truncated, India no longer has the
subcontinental unity which enabled the Raj to project such power into
Central Asia, the Persian Gulf and beyond. A revisionist and resurgent China
breathes heavily at India’s door, and Delhi can no longer shelter behind a
‘Finlandized’ Tibet in order to keep it at bay. The vast imperial military
machine which rolled out from the peninsula at the time of the Raj came at a
prohibitive cost, and alienated its Indian subjects who toiled and wilted
under colonial rule. It has been estimated, for instance, that Army
expenditure accounted for 41.9 per cent of the Indian Government budget in
1881–82 and rose to 51.9 per cent by 1904–1905.74 With a defence budget
that has rarely risen above 3 per cent of GDP, modern-day India seems ill
placed to revive such a militaristic legacy. Shifting geopolitical
circumstances, however, such as a pacified subcontinent, may encourage
India to look further afield and develop its expeditionary capabilities. Army
officer Harinder Singh, for instance, predicts that ‘in the forseeable future
the Indian Army could … be an important security provider with sufficient
force projection capabilities’,75 and Ladwig brings a balanced assessment of
future trajectories by stating: ‘In the medium term the limitations of political
will and military capacity will prevent India from achieving some of the
more ambitious power projection goals … On the other hand, the idea that
India will continue to reject military power projection is untenable.76’

The Soviet School

In a seminal report written for the US Naval Institute in 2001, Thomas P.M.
Barnett divided the Indian Navy into two broad strategic factions, which he
dubbed the British school and the Soviet school.77 Whereas the officers in
the so-called ‘British school’ were focused on international coalition-
building and the protection of sea lines of communication, the members of
the Soviet school were more intent on enforcing a strategy based on
deterrence and sea denial. Barnett even introduced a geographical distinction
between the Eastern Fleet based at Visakhpatnam, which he claims was long
considered the ‘Russian half’ and the Western Fleet stationed at Mumbai
(now also at Karwar). It is no secret that throughout much of the Cold War,
the Indian armed forces shared close strategic ties with the Soviet Union –
but to what extent, if any, can Soviet naval thinking be discerned in India’s
doctrinal development?
The Indian Navy’s rapprochement with the Soviet Union only occurred at
the beginning of the 1960s, before which the Indian Navy’s principal mentor
was the Royal Navy, where most of the young nation’s senior officers had
been trained. The first four Commanders-in-Chief of the Indian Navy were
Royal Navy officers, as were the fleet commanders, and every year the fleet
would take part in multilateral exercises off the former British naval base of
Trincomalee, in Sri Lanka, with the British Navy and other Commonwealth
countries. As the Cold War unfolded, however, and bipolarity rigidified, the
Indian Navy’s partnership with it former colonial overseer began to slowly
crumble. In 1964, an Indian request for help from London in establishing a
submarine arm was rejected, and the Indian Navy turned to an eager Soviet
Union for assistance, receiving its first batch of vessels in 1965.78 From then
on, and until the end of the Cold War, the Soviet Union was to remain a
privileged partner, assisting the Indian Navy in the construction of a major
naval dockyard along its eastern seaboard at Visakhpatnam, and leasing New
Delhi a Charlie Class SSN. Both navies, while not engaging in formal joint
military exercises, reportedly occasionally coordinated their ASW
capabilities to monitor American submarine patrols in the Arabian Sea.79
Indo-Russian naval interaction focused largely on the hybridization of
Russian weapon systems and Indian hulls, which was viewed by Indian
naval planners as a vital first step in the progressive indigenization of the
fleet.80
Despite a rich legacy in terms of service-to-service cooperation, however,
Indian naval officers, when questioned, seem hesitant to acknowledge any
lasting Soviet influence on their thinking. Despite the fact that many of the
current acting senior naval officers received some training in the Soviet
Union, people such as the retired Admiral J.G. Nadkarni profess that ‘the
Soviets were generous with their equipment but not with their knowledge –
they passed on no tactical know-how or doctrine.81’ Indian Naval personnel
were frequently disconcerted by their Soviet partners’ obsessive
‘secretiveness’, rigid ideological indoctrination and strict system of vertical
specialization.82 The interflow of ideas was further stemmed by the presence
of an enduring language barrier between both navies: few Soviet
commanders could speak fluent English, the working tongue of their South
Asian counterparts. Another Indian officer, when recently interviewed,
argued that the 1971 missile attack on Karachi, when India surprised
Pakistan (and allegedly the Soviet Union) by towing Osa class missile boats
best suited for coastal defence across the Arabian Sea, is a prime example of
how ‘India would take Soviet equipment but then use it creatively in its own
way’.83
At first glance, therefore, the Soviet Union seems to have left little long-
lasting impact on its South Asian protégé’s naval thinking. Nevertheless, if
one is to apply the logic of Barnett, there are may be certain parallels that
can be drawn, most notably between the intense focus on SLOC and
chokepoints in the Indian Maritime Doctrine, and the Soviet concept of ‘area
defence’. Area defence was a somewhat malleable concept which revolved
primarily around the rapid seizing of local sea control around key
chokepoints in order to better secure the safety of the Soviet Union’s home
waters and SSBN bastions while preventing enemy carrier task forces from
getting into strike range of Russian shores.84 Area defence, while being
tactically offensive, was strategically defensive in nature, centring on the use
of key chokepoints to establish naval chains which would lock out
conventionally superior forces from the USSR’s ‘inner defence perimeter’.
In both versions of India’s Maritime Doctrine, heavy emphasis is laid on the
control of chokepoints and SLOC interdiction, the 2004 edition noting that
the ‘control of choke points could be useful as a bargaining chip in the
international power game where the currency of military power remains a
stark reality’85 and its later avatar stating that both SLOC interdiction and
SLOC protection are ‘important operational missions for the IN’, ‘in view of
the nation’s heavy independence on the seas for trade’.86 The document
recommends the use of submarines, observing that ‘these are also quite
effective at chokepoints’,87 with the support of surface and air elements.

Monrovian Ambitions
Early America’s Monroe Doctrine, and the concept of a maritime manifest
destiny, has frequently been depicted as the most adequate lens through
which to view India’s naval mindset. Professor James R. Holmes of the US
Naval War College and several of his colleagues argue that ‘the Monroe
Doctrine, has … entered the foreign policy lexicon’, and that it can be used
‘as a kind of proxy to discern potential futures for Indian maritime
strategy’.88 Indeed, Indian leaders and naval officers themselves have
frequently couched their aspirations in Monrovian grammar. The oft-cited
example is Nehru’s speech in 1961, prior to the eviction of the Portuguese
from Goa, during which he said the following:
Even some time after the United States had established itself as a strong power, there was fear
of interference by European powers in the American continents, and this led to the famous
declaration by President Monroe of the United Sates that any interference by European powers
in the American continents would be an interference with the American political system. I
submit … that the Portuguese retention of Goa is a continuing interference with the political
system established in India today … Any attempt by a foreign power to interfere in any way
with India is a thing which India cannot tolerate, and which, subject to her strength, she will
oppose.89

The notion that any interference from external powers in India’s South Asian backyard will be
viewed with a high degree of mistrust in New Delhi is one that has proven itself true throughout
history, whether it be under Nehru, or under Indira and Rajiv Gandhi.90

Figure 4.1 The Indian Navy’s potential doctrinal and organizational trajectories
In reality, the Monroe Doctrine and its Indian variation are simple
reiterations of the policies employed by rising powers in their maritime
neighbourhoods throughout history, whether it be Ancient Rome and the
mare nostrum of the Mediterranean, or present-day China’s with its
expansive claims over its supposedly historically territorial waters which
encompass almost the entire South China Sea. Nevertheless, despite the
universality of such behaviour, its codification under the Monroe Doctrine
enables India to utilize ready-made concepts and instantly recognizable
vocabulary in the crafting of its maritime vision. This is reflected in official
naval publications, with then Chief of Naval Staff Sureesh Mehta drawing
on the concept of maritime ‘manifest destiny’91 in the foreword to the
Maritime Military Strategy. The latest edition of the Indian Maritime
Doctrine also seems to unravel, as was noted previously, a certain
geographical logic to India’s primacy in the region.
What would distinguish the Monrovian school, however, from the Raj
panoceanic school? In both cases India asserts its desire to extend its control
over the Indian Ocean, but whereas the Raj pan-oceanic school envisions an
Indian Ocean unified as a common strategic space, whole and at peace, the
Monrovian school’s overriding concern is to keep potentially threatening
external forces out. The Raj pan-oceanic vision is that of a future
overwhelmingly self-confident power in the Indian Ocean, whose primacy is
uncontested. The Monrovian school, on the other hand, envisions a navy
geared towards the possibility of an external threat. The 2009 maritime
doctrine operates a useful distinction between ‘sea control’, the core concept
around which the Indian Navy is said to revolve, and ‘command of the sea’.
Command of the sea, the doctrine points out, is ‘unqualified by time and
space’, and is ‘rarely, if ever, achievable’.92 Control of the sea, on the other
hand, ‘provides no guarantee of protection from outside attack’.93 From this
one can posit that the Raj pan-oceanic vision is one which chases after a
hypothetical ‘command of the sea’, whereas the Monrovian school, more
pragmatic and threat-based, seeks merely ‘control of the sea’.

Doctrinal Evolutions and Organizational Trajectories

India’s Maritime Doctrine is the result of a highly syncretic fusion of

different schools of thought, historical perceptions, and ways of viewing the
world. Over the centuries, India has consistently demonstrated its capacity to
absorb, integrate and re-craft new ideas. The latest version of India’s
Maritime Doctrine is therefore not etched in stone. Depending on
institutional evolutions within India and shifting geopolitical circumstances,
different strands of India’s naval thinking will become more salient, and this
will have a sizeable effect on the size and composition of India’s fleet.
Moreover, since the end of the Cold War, the Indian Navy has become the
central pillar of India’s military diplomacy, institutionalizing bilateral and
multilateral exercises with a host of different navies, ranging from France to
Singapore. Exchanges with naval institutes across the globe have flourished,
and Indian naval officers now have access to an unprecedented wealth and
diversity in terms of naval thinking. It may be too early to evaluate the
precise impact this overture has had on India’s doctrinal evolution, but there
is little doubt that increased contact and the importation of new military
hardware will heavily influence the way in which the Indian Navy views the
maritime sphere.
In this third and final section, different potential organizational
trajectories are laid out for each of the four aforementioned traditions,
depending on whether or not they become the dominating feature in Indian
naval thinking.94

Conclusion

India’s 2009 Maritime Doctrine is the latest effort by India’s most politically
minded – and resource-deprived – armed service to lay out a clear path for
its desired future. Didactic in tone, advocatory in intent, the document is also
highly aspirational, charting out roles and missions for the Navy it would
like to be, rather than for the force it currently is. The naval thinking at the
heart of its vision is a fascinating fusion of different concepts and traditions,
which gives credence to the notion that India’s true strength lies in its innate
syncretism. Strategically minded and outward-looking, the Indian Navy
could add a much-needed direction to India’s slow drift towards great power
status. But in order for it to do so, both India’s elephantine bureaucracy and
wary political leadership will need to cast off the outdated perceptions which
needlessly tether India to the shore. The nation’s largely khaki-clad military
will also need to undergo a profound transformation, which helps give birth
to a more harmonious civil-military relationship, while producing a
rebalancing in favour of a more powerful navy. India’s rise in wealth, power
and influence is manifest. The path to greatness, however, does not lie in the
dusty plains and frozen passes of its northern reaches. If it is to be found at
all, it will be at sea – out in the great dark blue of the Indian Ocean.
 1 The author would like to thank Professor Sumit Ganguly, Walter C. Ladwig, and an anonymous
referee for their helpful comments on an earlier draft, as well as Professor Daniel Deudney for his
invaluable assistance in helping him achieve a more profound understanding of military doctrine.
2 Ashley Tellis, ‘Securing the Barrack: The Logic, Structure and Objectives of India’s Naval
Expansion’, Naval War College Review (Summer 1990): 80.
3 K.M. Panikkar, ‘The Defence of India and Indo-British Obligations’, International Affairs, 22(1)
(January 1946): 85-90.
4 Zhang Ming, ‘The Malacca Dilemma and the Chinese Navy’s Strategic Choices’, Modern Ships,
274 (October 2006): p. 23.
5 Cheng Ruisheng, ‘Interview: Reflections from China’, Journal of International Affairs, 64(2)
(Spring/Summer 2011): 213.
6 Kavalam Madhava Pannikar was an influential Indian diplomat and historian who wrote
Mahanesque texts on the role of sea power in Indian history and the need for the country to look
seaward. Although he was prolific, his most famous and oft cited work remains India and the Indian
Ocean: An Essay on the Influence of Sea Power on Indian History (London: George Allen & Unwin,
1945), p. 9.
7 Admiral Arun Prakash, ‘Is the Future Beneath the Waves?’, Livefist Blog Post, Sunday 21
December 2008, available at http://livefist.blogspot.com/2008/12/admiral-arun-prakash-is-future-
beneath.html.
8 The 1971 conflict, during which the Indian Navy’s Osa class missile boats launched a daring
attack on the Karachi harbour constitutes a notable exception.
9 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), INBR-8, Indian Maritime Doctrine, 2009.
10 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Freedom to Use the Seas: India’s
Maritime Military Strategy, 2007.
11 Integrated Headquarters (Navy), Indian Maritime Doctrine, 2009, p. 3.
12 Ibid.
13 Integrated Headquarters (Navy), Indian Maritime Doctrine, 2009, Foreword.
14 Ibid.
15 Integrated Headquarters (Navy), Indian Maritime Doctrine, 2009, p. 11.
16 See Rahul Roy-Chaudhury, India’s Maritime Security (New Delhi: Knowledge World, 2000),
pp. 125-6.
17 Integrated Headquarters (Navy), Indian Maritime Doctrine, 2004, p. 83.
18 James R. Holmes, Andrew C. Winner and Toshi Yoshihara, Indian Naval Strategy in the
Twenty-First Century (Abingdon: Routledge, 2009), p. 73.
19 ‘The warship, with a relatively young crew, hailing from all parts of India, symbolizes a mini-
India and succinctly epitomizes all that modern India stands for a vibrant, multi-ethnic, multi-
religious, secular democracy, firmly on the track to economic and technological development’.
Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Indian Maritime Doctrine, 2009, p. 113.
20 See Samuel L. Huntington, The Soldier and the State, The Theory and Politics of Civil-Military
Relations (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press/Harvard University Press, 1981), pp. 560, and Andrew J.
Goodpaster and Samuel L. Huntington, Civil-Military Relations (Washington DC: American
Enterprise Institute Monograph, 1977), p. 23.
21 Elizabeth Kier, Imagining War: French and British Military Doctrine between the Wars
(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1999), p. 19.
22 See Kotera M. Bhimaya, ‘Civil-Military Relations: A Comparative Study of India and
Pakistan’ (Diss., Rand Graduate School, 1997), retrievable at
www.rand.org/pubs/authors/b/bhimaya_kotera.html.
23 Kier, Imagining War, p. 26.
24 Stephen P. Cohen and Sunil Dasgupta, Arming without Aiming, India’s Military Modernization
(Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press, 2010), p. 147.
25 There is hope that this will change however, as it was recently announced that a task force was
to be set up to review the reforms in the management of national defence. In 2001 the Group of
Ministers submitted their recommendations on ‘Reforming the National Security System’ and argued
for the creation of a Chief of Defence Staff. For 10 years, due to an unsavory blend of bureaucratic
and inter-service infighting, this recommendation has remained unimplemented.
26 Colonel S.A. Rehman, ‘Jointmanship: The IDS Way’, Articles by Officers of Headquarters of
the Integrated Defence Staff, http://ids.nic.in/art_by_offids/Jointmanship/Rehman.pdf.
27 Bhimaya, Civil-Military Relations, p. 155.
28 Harinder Singh, ‘Assessing India’s Emerging Land Warfare Capabilities, Prospects and
Concerns’, Asian Security Journal, 7(2) (2011): 162.
29 Cohen and Dasgupta, Arming without Aiming, p. 147.
30 Bhimaya, Civil-Military Relations, p. 161.
31 See David Brewster, ‘An Indian Sphere of Influence in the Indian Ocean?’, Security
Challenges, 6(3) (Spring 2010): 4.
32 Integrated Headquarters (Navy), Indian Maritime Doctrine, 2009, p. 1.
33 The Navy only captured 15 per cent of the defence budget in 2010-11.
34 For instance, in a recent article for the Woodrow Wilson Center in Washington DC, former
Chief of Naval Staff Arun Prakash writes the following: ‘The Indian Army has been driven into an
intellectual and doctrinal cul-de-sac by 20 years of insurgency which demands an ever-increasing
number of boots on the ground’. See Arun Prakash, ‘The Rationale and Implications of India’s
Growing Maritime Power’, in India’s Contemporary Security Challenges, ed. Michael Kugelman
(Woodrow Wilson International School for Scholars Asia Program Publication, 2011), p. 86.
35 A recent example would be the alleged spat between the Navy and Air Force over the Air
Force’s RFI for six new amphibious aircraft in March 2010. Shiv Aroor, one of India’s best known
defence journalists, reports on his blog that the Indian Navy did not take kindly to the Air Force’s
request for amphibious aircraft, viewing such a capability as falling under the Navy’s purview, and
announcing a few months later its own identical procurement effort. See
http://livefistblogspot.com/2011/01/after-iaf-navy-now-wants-amphibian.html.
36 Holmes, Winner and Yoshihara, Indian Naval Strategy in the Twenty-First Century, p. 65.
37 Prakash, ‘The Rationale and Implications of India’s Growing Maritime Power’, p. 86.
38 During the Kargil conflict, the Indian Navy deployed a large task force composed of
destroyers, submarines and frigates 13 nautical miles off the major Pakistani port of Karachi,
displaying India’s latent capability to enforce a blockade and penning in the Pakistani fleet. Some
have argued that this show of strength ultimately convinced the Pakistanis to begin withdrawing their
troops from disputed territory. See David Scott, ‘India’s “Grand Strategy” for the Indian Ocean
Region: Mahanian Visions’, Asia-Pacific Review, 13(2) (2006): 107.
39 See Barry Posen, Sources of Military Doctrine: France, Britain and Germany Between the
World Wars (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1986), p. 288.
40 ‘The Asian continent forms a roof over the Indian Ocean northern extent, and distinguishes it
from the Pacific and Atlantic, which lie from north to south like great highways without any roof.
The Indian Ocean is nearly 10,000 km wide at the southern tips of Africa and Australia, and extends
nearly 13,500 km from the Persian Gulf to Antarctica. The great Indian peninsular landmass, jutting
out for a thousand miles, characterizes the Indian Ocean and lends it its name’. Indian Maritime
Doctrine 2009, p. 56.
41 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Indian Maritime Doctrine, 2004, p. 49.
42 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Indian Maritime Military Strategy,
2007, p. 76.
43 Manoj K. Das, ‘India Begins Work on 2nd Nuclear Submarine’, Deccan Chronicle, 10 July
2011, retrievable at www.asianage.com/india/india-begins-work-2nd-nuclear-submarine-184.
44 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Indian Maritime Doctrine, 2009, p. 93.
45 Ibid.
46 Cohen and Dasgupta, Arming without Aiming, p. 91.
47 Das, ‘India Begins Work on 2nd Nuclear Submarine’.
48 Sandeep Uthinan, ‘INS Arihant to Sail on Deterrent Mission after Commissioning’, India
Today, 2 December 2010, retrievable at http://indiatoday.intoday.in/story/ins-arihant-to-sail-on-
deterrent-patrol-after-commissioning/1/121885.html.
49 What little information has been given regarding the DRDO’s Sagarika Project would suggest
that the K-15 SLBM currently under development would only have a range of 750-800 km. This
means that if the Indian Navy wishes to enact credible nuclear deterrence vis-à-vis China for, its
submarines will need to be on constant patrol in the South China Seas and other closed maritime
spaces near Chinese shores – a suboptimal state of affairs. A 3,500 km range SLBM, the K-4, is
reportedly under development, but is unlikely to be fielded before 2018.
50 Contact with deep-cruising submarines can be maintained through the use of extremely low
frequencies (ELF) whose signals penetrate the ocean’s deeper layers and are immune to the
atmospheric disturbances caused by nuclear detonations, and through laser communication. Open
sources suggest that India has invested in ELF and studied laser communications since the 1980s
(there is reportedly a VLF or very low frequency broadcasting station at Vijayanarayanam in Tamil
Nadu which can broadcast several metres below seawater) but it is unclear whether an effective
communications system for great depths is yet operational. See Mark Gorwitz, ‘The Indian SSN
Project: An Open Literature Analysis’, Federation of American Scientists Report, December 1996,
retrieved atwww.fas.org/nuke/guide/india/sub/ssn/part01.htm, and Ranjit B. Rai, ‘Underseas
Communications for India’s Nuclear Boats: The Next Challenge’, India Defence Update, March
2008, retrievable at www.indiadefenceupdate.com/news93.html.
51 ‘Sea control is the central concept around which the IN is structured, and aircraft carriers are
decidedly the most substantial contributors to it’, Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence
(Navy), Indian Maritime Doctrine, 2009, p. 125.
52 Ibid., p. 125.
53 See Walter C. Ladwig III’s detailed analysis in ‘Drivers of Indian Naval Growth’, in The Rise
of the Indian Navy: Problems and Prospects, ed. Harsh Pant (Farnham: Ashgate, 2012).
54 Ashok Sawhney, ‘Indian Naval Effectiveness for National Growth’, S. Rajaratnam School of
International Studies Singapore Working Paper no. 197, 7 May 2010, retrievable at
www.rsis.edu.sg/publications/WorkingPapers/WP197.pdf, p. 26.
55 Most estimations of Chinese defence budgets are mere attempts at informed approximation, as
the PLA’s lack of transparency when it comes to military budgetary issues is notorious.
56 See Iskander Rehman, ‘An Ocean at the Intersection of Two Emerging Narratives’, Institute for
Defence Studies and Analyses, New Delhi, July 2011, retrievable at
www.idsa.in/issuebrief/AnOceanatTheIntersectionofTwoEmergingMaritimeNarratives.
57 Robert D. Kaplan, ‘South Asia’s Geography of Conflict’, Center for a New American Security
Report, 9 August 2010, retrievable at www.cnas.org/node/4952, p. 14.
 58 Quoted by William J. Brenner in ‘The Forest and the King of Beasts: Hierarchy and Opposition
in Ancient India (c.600-232 BCE)’, in The Balance of Power in World History, ed. Stuart J.
Kaufman, Richard Little and William C. Wohlforth (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007), p. 107.
59 Ibid.
60 Ibid., p.116.
61 Romila Thapar, The Penguin History of Early India: From the Origins to AD 1300 (Delhi:
Penguin Books, 2002), p. 56.
62 Brenner, ‘The Forest and the King of Beasts’, p. 116.
63 Andrew C. Winner, ‘The United States, India, the Indian Ocean, and Maritime Elements of
Security Cooperation’, in India’s Contemporary Security Challenges, ed. Michael Kugelman
(Woodrow Wilson International School for Scholars Asia Program Publication, 2011), p. 101.
64 Cohen and Dasgupta, Arming without Aiming, p. 91.
65 Jan Morris, The Spectacle of Empire: Style, Effect and the Pax Britannica (London: Faber &
Faber, 1982), p. 147.
66 Niall Ferguson, Empire: How Britain Made the Modern World (London: Penguin 2004), p.
177.
67 Christopher Bayly and Tim Harper, Forgotten Armies: Britain’s Asian Empire & the War with
Japan (London: Penguin Books, 2005), p. 192.
68 See Raja Mohan, ‘The Return of the Raj’, The American Interest, May-June 2010.
69 Walter C. Ladwig III, ‘India and Military Power Projection: Will the Land of Gandhi Become a
Conventional Great Power?’, Asian Survey, 50(6): 1162.
70 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Indian Maritime Doctrine, 2009, pp. 65-
6.
71 Cited by S. Kapila in ‘India Defines Her Strategic Frontiers’, SAAG Paper, 832, 4 November
2003, available at www.saag.org/papers9/paper832.html.
72 M. Singh, ‘PM’s Address at the Combined Commanders’ Conference’, 24 October 2004.
73 Sugata Bose, A Hundred Horizons: The Indian Ocean in the Age of Global Empire
(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2006), p. 40.
74 Michael Greenberg, British Trade and the Opening of China (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1951), p. 8.
75 Harinder Singh, ‘Assessing India’s Emerging Land Warfare Capabilities, Prospects and
Concerns’, Asian Security Journal, 7(2) (2011): 153.
76 Walter C. Ladwig III, ‘India and Military Power Projection: Will the Land of Gandhi Become a
Conventional Great Power?’, Asian Survey, 50(6): 1166.
77 Thomas P.M. Barnett, ‘India’s 12 Steps to a World-Class Navy’, US Naval Institute
Proceedings (July 2001): 41-5.
78 See Admiral J.G. Nadkarni (Retd), ‘The Russian Connection’, 23 March 2000, at
www.rediff.com/news/2000/mar/23nad.htm.
79 See Alexander O. Ghebhardt, ‘Soviet and U.S Interests in the Indian Ocean’, Asian Survey,
15(8) (August 1975): 672-83.
80 For a comprehensive account of the Indian Navy’s Russian acquisition patterns during the
second half of the Cold War see Vice Admiral G.M. Hiranandani, Transition to Eminence: The
Indian Navy 1976-90, Integrated HQ Ministry of Defence (Navy) (New Delhi: in association with
Lancer Publishers, 2005), pp. 124-34.
81 Nadkarni, ‘The Russian Connection’.
82 Hiranandani, Transition to Eminence, p. 124.
 83 Interview of Commander S.S Parmar, New Delhi, July 2011.
84 See Michael McGwire, ‘Naval Power and Soviet Global Strategy’, International Security, 3(4)
(Spring 1979): 170-1.
85 Indian Maritime Doctrine 2004, p. 64.
86 Indian Maritime Doctrine 2009, p. 95.
87 Ibid.
88 Holmes, Winner and Yoshihara, Indian Naval Strategy in the Twenty-First Century, p. 45.
89 Jawaharlal Nehru, ‘India’s Foreign Policy: Selected Speeches, September 1946-April 1961
(Delhi: Government of India, 1961), pp. 114.
90 See also: James R. Holmes and Toshi Yoshihara, ‘India’s ‘Monroe Doctrine’ and Asia’s
Maritime Future’, Strategic Analysis, 32(6) (November 2008): 997-1009.
91 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Indian Maritime Military Strategy,
2007, Foreword.
92 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Indian Maritime Doctrine, 2009, p. 77.
93 Ibid.
94 These projections are predicated on the notion that India will continue to enjoy high rates of
economic growth for the next few decades. This will allow India’s military to entertain the different
options listed, as its funding increased in nominal terms even as it share of the GDP remains
relatively stable.
 Chapter 5
Technology and the Indian Navy
K. Raja Menon

Transition

During three decades, from 1980 to 2009 the Indian Navy has undergone a
transformation from being a brown-water to an almost blue-water navy.
Much of this transformation would be unique in the annals of any navy, but
more so in the life of the navy of a third-world country – with limited
capacity for building and under adverse technology denial regimes. The
transformation of the world during this period, from a bipolar to a unipolar
world, has added to the complications of a small navy with large ambitions.
As with all navies, some part of the force structure was transitory – that is,
ships so old that they counted as numbers, but would disappear in a year or
two due to age. So, in 1980, the Indian Navy’s core strength lay in 10
Soviet-origin Petya class frigates, two Whitby class frigates, three
Nanuchka class corvettes and five Leander class frigates. The temporaries
included one ageing cruiser of World War II vintage, a carrier and three
Leopard class frigates, notorious for their unreliability. There were eight
Foxtrots in the prime of their heath. In total, the major war vessels of the
fleet numbered one ageing carrier, one vintage cruiser and 23 major war
vessels. Of these the 10 Petyas and 3 Nanuchkas had extremely limited
endurance and often spent the right with all propulsion stopped, so as to
conserve engine hours.1
By 2010, in three decades, the situation had changed dramatically. The
change was not so much in numbers, but in technology that enabled ships to
steam for longer periods with a better suite of sensors, longer-range
weapons, and were largely interconnected through data-link. The limits of
deployability of the Indian Navy in the early eighties can be gauged from
the fact that in the ‘Tanker war’, a part of the Iran–Iraq war of 1980–97, the
largest number of nationally flagged tankers to be hit in the Gulf were
Indian, and yet the Indian Navy failed to deploy – in any form whatsoever.
Perhaps pusillanimous policy was responsible to some extent, but so was
the fact that long-legged deployable ships were a scarcity.2
By 2010 the short-legged ships have been decommissioned. There are 14
operational submarines, one aircraft carrier and 34 major war vessels. The
average tonnage of the Navy warship has doubled from 2,000 plus to 4,000
plus. In both 1980 and 2010, the minor combatants have been excluded
from the calculations as have been the relatively unarmed off-shore patrol
vessels (six) and minesweepers and so on. Interestingly, one capability
where the Indian Navy is in the world class is hydrography with eight major
survey vessels. This enables many overseas surveys to be competed for by
the Navy, which is also represented in the International Hydrographic
Organization. The grumbles come chiefly from the Navy’s discontent with
MOD policies on the offset rules for technology import. The current rules
are that only government entities and PSUs can be prime contractors for
offsets. This results in PSUs subcontracting what they cannot digest, which
is most of the offsets, and this bizarre policy makes the numbers look
favourable for the government even if the execution of technology transfer
suffers grievously. The MOD’s policy of acting like a department of the
public sector, rather than defence production has quarantined the private
sector into a limited 26 per cent equity, when up to 40 per cent is permitted
in all joint ventures in India, other than defence. The net result of these one-
sided policies is that the ship-and-submarine building programmes are
generally 3–5 years behind schedule, as public sector yards have little
competition from having to compete on the world stage.3
Despite all these achievements, talking to an Indian Navy planner, one
only gets a continuing grumble of unkept promises and unfulfilled targets.
The target never changed much – a vision of what the Navy of independent
India should be, written in 1948, a year after Independence, by a British
Royal Navy officer, on loan to fill the post of the Director, Naval Plans. The
plans themselves are rarely dug up these days, but tradition has it that the
‘original’ plan was for the Navy to have 140 ships of all varieties. This
magic number has never been achieved, but is constantly thrown at a
parsimonious government. In calculating numbers, the life span of a ship is
calculated at 25 years, although ships regularly pass their 40th birthday in
service. The ‘140 ships Navy’ has run foul of the other services, when the
Air Force repeated its demand for a 45-squadron air force and the Army
demanded similar quantifiable numbers. In broad terms, it is accepted that
two-thirds of the 140 would be auxiliaries and minor war vessels, having a
major force level of 47 ship and submarines.
Within these numbers there are the aircraft carrier and submarine
narratives. The original 140 included two aircraft carriers, so it has not been
a problem justifying two. With the arrival of the Gorshkov and the
decommissioning of the Viraat (Hermes) the number of carriers will be
down to one again, until the arrival of the Kochi-constructed air-defence
ship, which will probably weigh in at around 40,000 tons when ready.
Submarines of an unknown number (probably 8) were part of the original
140 that the Navy was supposed to have, but in the late nineties a paper was
written justifying the conventional submarine strength as 24 and this
number has again never been achieved, and will never be achieved because
the Indian Navy, like all major navies, is currently undergoing the
controversy about how many nuclear submarines can it afford, and what is
the inter-se relationship between conventional and nuclear submarines. But
surprisingly, just as India is set to get its first nuclear-powered Akula in
2011, the country is also gearing up in Mazagon Dock to build the Scorpene
class boats with French collaboration.4
Therefore, like many growing navies, the nuclear submarine versus the
conventional has not been put to rest in the Indian Navy. There is a small
vocal group who believe that the government will take it amiss that the
Navy is being unreasonable in demanding nuclear submarines, as well as
two conventional submarine production lines, at a time when the ‘great’
navies have given up completely on conventional boats. That is precisely
what the Indian Navy is doing in showing its determination to put out RFIs
for the second line of conventional boats, in a ‘blind’ pursuance of the
earlier 24-boat paper written for the government, when all were intended to
be conventional only. The controversy surrounds the well-known fact that a
nuclear submarine is twice as expensive as a conventional boat but is
certainly more than twice as effective, especially at patrol distances over
1,000 miles from base. So the RFIs for the second production line demand
an integral missile-firing submarine that also has an AIP package. These
imperatives permit few bidders to participate in a field where there are
limited players anyway.5

Missiles (Surface)
Missile made their appearance into the arsenal in 1971, just in time to make
a dramatic statement off Karachi in December of that year. This stunning
success encouraged the Navy to convert the main armament of all ships to
surface-to-surface missiles over the next two decades, beginning with the
two Whitbys – Trishul and Talwar – which had their forward turrets
replaced with 3 × P15 missiles hangars. For many years missiles remained
only with the missile boats until the P20s made their appearance in the
Rajput and Nanuchka classes. These missiles were also fitted into the
Godavari classes. The P20s were replaced by the infrared-homing P21 and
P22 in the later Rajputs and yet again by the Urans (KH-35E) in all
subsequent classes. The Urans have yet again given way to the Klub
missiles in the Kolkata class. Interestingly there has been another diversion
in the Shivaliks and Talwar classes which have been given the Klub
(Novator KH 54 TE) active radar-homing missiles, as were fitted earlier in
the Sindhughosh class submarines. As is well known, the Brahmos and
Klub missiles increase speed to 2.5 Mach during the attack phase and have
also been modified for the land-attack role. The submarine missiles are a
variant, of the same Klub, designated the 3 M – 54E1. All these missiles
have again given way to the Brahmos in the Talwar follow-ons being
constructed in Russia, with the VLS launch tubes being sent from India.
The Brahmos will probably be retrofitted in the earlier classes, after the
lessons learnt from the experimental fitting in the Rajput class.

Propulsion

The arrivals of the Petya class ships in the late 1960s saw the Navy
introduced to marine gas turbines at an early stage, since they were
probably the earliest operational class of ships with a Combined diesel or
gas (CODOG)6 profile. The gas turbines were irreversible and could only
boost the speed going ahead. However, the Navy’s experience with steam
was so considerable that it was happy making boilers in the naval dockyard
for the Leanders. This satisfaction with steam has led to the continuance of
steam propulsion in the Godavari and their follow-ons, the Brahmaputra
class. It was then thought that steam propulsion was at an end but with the
Gorshkov now contracted for, steam technology will continue to survive for
a while longer. For some years the mainstay of naval propulsion has been
the Ukrainian gas turbine – the Zarya DT 59 which has proved to be an
excellent workhorse, although hindered by a high specific fuel
consumption.
Standardization has been partly achieved with the Pielstick (joint venture
with Kirloskar) 18 PA 6 V29\80 diesels being fitted in all the 10 Khukri and
Kora class corvettes and the 6 Sukanya class OPVs. It might have made
better sense to have fitted the eight survey ships with the same engines, but
they have the MAN 66 V diesel which have given equally good service.
Today, centres of excellence in propulsion are being created for gas turbines
in Visakhapatnam, for steam in Mumbai and for diesels in Karwar, at the
new base recently built – the INS Kadamba. A unique propulsion system in
the Navy is the Combined gas turbine and gas turbine (COGAG) profile in
the 13 Veer class (Tarantul) missile corvettes which all have the Nikolayev
DR 77 gas turbines with one gas turbine able to drive both shafts through
advanced gearing. Despite naval satisfaction with the DR 59 gas turbines,
the latest warship built in India – the Shivalik was made to a completely
new set of specification and the fact that Hindustan Aeronautics Limited
has a collaboration with General Electric, resulted in this class being given
the LM 2500, which has pleasurably surprised ship operators. The
robustness, ease of maintenance, and the remarkably lower fuel
consumption of the LM 2500 has had huge beneficial downstream effects in
the endurance of ships and the fuel train.7 Despite this experience the Navy
is currently planning to introduce electric propulsion, as the answer to
tomorrow’s warship systems.

The Indigenous Aircraft Carrier

Of all the technological projects undertaken in the Navy, the building of an

aircraft carrier is probably one of the biggest and most complex. The long
gestation of this project testifies to the turmoil within the service towards
building an aircraft carrier. The overriding factor that characterized the
Navy approach to the building of a carrier was reticence and humility. This
is understandable as the project was conceived in the early 90s when the
defence budget was considerably smaller than today and the Navy’s share
was proportionately smaller. The Vikrant was just over 20,000 tons and that
was the figure that the first bandied about. But like all projects that start
small, it kept getting bigger and bigger, with the first jump going from
20,000 to 28,000 tons. The catapult was never considered right from the
beginning in the 90s as India was under technology denial, and the Navy
was flying only Harriers. At about this time, the Russians preferred the ski
jump for conventional aircraft take-off and this development reinforced the
Indian view that they had made the right choice of short take-off but
arrested recovery (STOBAR).
The immediate result was that steam did not have to be generated for the
catapult, and hence the main propulsion plant could be fixed on gas turbines
which were being inducted in large numbers and proving to be versatile and
reliable. In the 1990s the Light Combat Aircraft (LCA) was being
manufactured in Hindustan Aeronautics Ltd and the computer simulation of
the weight and power figure of the aircraft indicated that it was a candidate
for the new STOBAR carrier. Subsequently the carrier design would be
configured around the LCA and the tonnage went up gradually from 28,000
to 37,000. The 40,000-ton design was more or less confirmed with a design
consultancy agreement with DCN of France, which provided a design, large
aspects of which were incorporated into the ADS design. A design
agreement was signed with DCN as part of the Indo-French MOU of 1988
and an Indian design team went to DCN in France for consultation.8 The
first design provided by DCN was a 25,000-ton catapult carrier, but this was
later modified to something close to the Charles De Gaulle, minus of
course the nuclear propulsion package. The final design was for a 37,000-
ton carrier, to operate 30 combat aircraft, with a complement of 1,400. The
dimension of the ship would be 252 metres in length, 58 metres wide and a
draught of 8 metres. The total power requirement would be 120,000 hp for a
speed of 28 knots. The endurance of the ship would be 7,500 nm at 17 knots
and hangarage was available for 17 aircraft. Drawings had to be generated
largely from the inputs received from the Russian design bureau Nevskoe,
which solved the aviation-related design aspects. The propulsion design
package was done by Fincanteni of Italy, who also provided the engine
room layout and the build specification.
The Kochi shipyard had to make a number of alternations to be able to
build the carrier. These included the commissioning of a 300-ton gantry
crane, commissioning a plasma cutting-machine, plate-bending for much
thicker plates and, most of all, of locking in the 3-D computerization of
software of the Director General Naval Design (DGND) with that of the
shipyard.9 The yard had to upgrade their entire welding technology, the
process of welding and non-destructive testing. The Indigenous Aircraft
Carrier (IAC) as it is now called, has been the product of design,
government parsimony and circumstances. The marine version of the
Sukhoi and MiGs in the Russian inventory in the 90s had given confidence
to Indian designer that a STOBAR carrier will not lack for suitable aircraft.
At the same time, the anxiety that carrier-borne aircraft which at some time
have to fight large shore-based aircraft has been taken care of by the
advanced Russian aircraft. The superior power-to-weight ratio of future
aircraft may enable them to take off from STOBAR carriers but their weight
will be a problem during arrested recovery. The IAC as currently designed
will be adequate for a 22-ton all-up-weight aircraft with the present 14-
degree ski jump, using the after-burner. The 600-foot deck will have to be
enough, if the aircraft is provided with hydraulic chocks and jet-blast
deflectors.

The Shivalik and Future Ship Design

The design and build of the Delhi class should perhaps have satisfied the
Navy that they had a good design to standardize on, but that was not the
case. World trends also indicated that future warship designs would be far
stealthier in all aspects than their predecessors. An evaluation showed up
some of the relative weaknesses of the Delhi – one of which was radar
cross-section, the other being her relative short endurance for a ship of that
tonnage. These shortcomings prompted the Navy to put in a fresh lot of
staff requirements, among which was a move away from the Zarya GT of
Ukrainian origin, both because of the high IR signature coming out of the
funnel as well as the frequent refuellings needed. A technical committee
went into the propulsion package possibilities and short-listed the GE LM
2500 and the Rolls Royce Spey derivative. Eventually the Navy paid the
large part of the share of HAL’s payment to GE for licenced production. In
addition to the LM 2500 the CODOG profile resulted in the ship’s
endurance virtually doubling compared to the Delhi class. The LM 2500
was found with a flatter fuel consumption curve, owing to variable
geometry fuel nozzles, and a better-designed funnel has resulted in great
improvement in the RCS, the endurance, IR signature and replenishment at
sea frequency. The weapon package has been dramatically upgraded with
the VLS Brahmos and the Kashmir SAM. The sonar remains the Indian
HUMSA.

Submarines

The Indian Navy started submarining in the robust Foxtrot class and it
possibly could not have chosen a more robust design to learn submarining
on. With three propulsion systems and a 25 per cent reserve buoyancy, the
submarine had mostly reliable manually operated hydraulic and manual
system. Manpower costs were not a factor and the crew was a large 69.
There was nothing deficient in the technology, because the Foxtrot was
probably the first diesel submarine in the world to have supercharged
diesels, a full decade or two before the West introduced superchargers into
the submarine. If the submarine had any shortcoming it was in the quality
of signal processing (all sensors), the friendliness of data presentation, and
the layout of the combat system to facilitate fighting the submarine. A
number of modifications were made to the later four submarines, based on
recommendation from the Indians. Most of the drawbacks could have been
corrected, if there had been a robust system of user-feedback from the Navy
to the builder, which appeared lacking in the old Soviet Navy.
The Indian Navy virtually handed over one Foxtrot to the Defence
Research and Development Organisation for improving the sensor and this
resulted in the Navy eventually being given the Panchendriya which was
then used to develop the technology for the USHUS sonars for all boats
when they came up for their half-life refits. In 2010, the last of the Foxtrots
decommissioned after 43 years of service. During their life time they were
subjected to possibly the least number of major modifications. The
subsequent class of submarine, the HDW 1500 and the Sindhughosh classes
arrived in India at about the same time – 1986. The HDW 1500 were one of
the biggest foreign orders at the time. These submarines were much larger
than the 209s which they were generically, but the Indians had demanded an
eclectic equipment fit, which they got. Among the demands were advanced
Singer Librascope fire-control system, the Argo Phoenix AR 700 ESM
system and the Kollmorgen periscope. For many years these were probably
the only and certainly the most advanced US equipment systems in the
Indian arsenal, and it is a mystery how in the years of the US technical
embargo, this equipment was cleared for use by the Indian Navy.
 The Sindhughosh were a formidable class by submarine, but not before
the Indians had completed a number of modifications to them, beginning
with replacing the Russian main batteries which had problems with
excessive hydrogen, restricted charging regimes and a limited number of
cycles.10 The boat as a result had an unacceptable charging time during
which the temperatures were higher than acceptable. All these were
corrected in India and eventually they became frontline weapon platforms,
armed as they were with the SSN 27 Klub, and later with the land-attack
version – the SSN 30. With a formidably large bow sonar and covered with
anechoic tiles they were often referred to in Western literature as ‘black
holes’ meaning they were fairly undetectable. The fast induction rate of
submarines made it virtually impossible for them to be given their half-life
refits in India, as they bumped up one behind the other. For this reason
many refits were offloaded to the Russians, starting from 1997 at
Severodvinsk. Three half-life refits were completed at Severodvinsk and at
the admiralty yard in St Petersburg by 2001. Between 2002 and 2009, four
more half-life refits were offloaded to the Russians. During the refits all
boats were retrofitted with the SSN 27 or the SSN 30. All boats had their
main sonars updated from the MG 400 to the Indian USHUS incorporating
waterfall displays and better digital processing.
The HDW 1500s have certainly given a huge number of dived hours
while in trouble-free service and starting from 2000 they have gone in for a
half-life refit during which time, the Germans have provided the
consultancy. The changes involved replacing the main sonar from the
Krupp-Atlas CSU ¾ to the CSU8/9 incorporating flank array also. Much of
the electronics which had become unsupportable have been replaced with
the Kollmorgen periscope being replaced by the German non-penetrating
optronic mast by Zeiss. Although the early years of the HDW contract were
mired in controversy, the boats have turned out to be excellent buys which,
with their half-life refits, will probably see them eventually produce 40
years of service in the Navy.
The contract for six Scorpene class submarines was signed in 2005,
worth about $3.5 bn. All six are to be built at Mazagon, which had earlier
been given the technology to build the HDW 1500 boats. Much of this
technology had been dissipated by the fact that after building two boats, the
Deutchmark had re-valued itself against the Rupee from approximately four
Rupees to a DM to eventually settle at 25. The project had therefore simply
priced itself out. Technologies like welding HY 80 steel, pipe-work on Cu-
nickel and the new paints in the HDW boat had upgraded Mazagon
technology, but now another infusion is necessary to enable the yard to
build the French boats. The Scorpene project is well behind schedule owing
to the fact that price negotiation occurred during the time when escalations
were already running. This project has already attracted severe criticism
from the Indian auditing watchdog – the Controller and Auditor General
(CAG) – because of excessively slow work at the yard during which time
the costs have escalated. The Scorpenes are armed with the Exocet SM 39
and have an option for integrating the AIP system into the boats
commencing the third. The first submarine is expected to be delivered in
2014–15 and the project was to be completed by 2019.
In 2010, the government issued an RFI for the next generation of
submarines called Project 75-I. It is rumoured that the project would be
worth $10.72 bn which would make each of the six boats worth Rs. 8,500
crores. The boats would be approximating 2,500 tons, with an air-
independent propulsion system and be fitted with a land-attack missile. It is
reported that the RFIs have been sent to the French (DCNS), the Germans
(HDW for the 212/214 although they have no missiles), the Russians
(Rubin Central Design Bureau) with the Amur 1650 and Spain’s Navantia
(S-80A). This contract is unusual in one sense. Three of the boats will be
built at Mazagon, and the remaining three by a private yard in collaboration
with any foreign partner.
It had also been inferred that a Russian Akula class boat was to be leased
from Russia in 2009 under a 10-year lease for $700 million. Shortly before
this announcement there had been an accident on board the nuclear
submarine Nerpa prompting comments from the Russian side that there
would be a delay in the delivery of the Akula to India. The Nerpa
meanwhile has been commissioned into the Russian Navy and Russian
officials have announced that there would be a delay in delivery of the boat
from March 2011 to probably September of the same year.11

Anti-Submarine Warfare

The Indian Navy’s initial acquisition plans included no submarines, but a

British submarine would visit Bombay (as it was then) for a month or so
prior to the Joint Commonwealth exercises held in winter every year. These
visits were used for extensive practical work-ups as well as detailed de-
briefs off Kochi, in the modern Action Speed Tactical Trainer (ASTT). It
was calmly accepted that all the ASW frigates bought from the UK – the
Khukri and Trishul classes – had come without the main medium-range
sonar that their counterparts had in the UK, namely the Type 177, which
was later modified to the Type 184. There was a tragic sequel to this British
parsimony, because it was clear to all in the Navy that with only the short-
range searchlight sonars of the Type 170, the ASW frigates of the Navy
were no match for modern submarines. This shortcoming was first sought
to be tackled by LTVK Jain, a talented electrical officer who was sent to the
British electrical long course at HMS Collingwood and deputed to the
Bhabha Atomic Research Centre to try and modify the Type 170 sonar in
the INS Khukri. In the meanwhile the 1971 war with Pakistan had broken
out and the Khukri was sent to investigate a suspicious contact when she
was attacked and sunk by a Pakistani submarine. Lt Jain was in the sonar
control room making adjustments when the ship went down and the
modification kit was lost.12
Shortly afterwards work on a sonar was being started in the Naval
Physical and Oceanographic Laboratory when another talented officer, Lt
Paulraj, was deputed to the laboratory. His brilliance catapulted him to be
the project manager in 1976 and the Naval Headquarters along with the
Directors at NPOL took a leap of faith in building a sonar project around Lt
Paulraj who felt that it was possible to enormously improve on the BARC
project. It is necessary to go into the history of the Navy’s efforts to make
its own sonar because no indigenous effort in the country has succeeded as
brilliantly as the Navy’s sonar project. The work done in NPOL was passed
onto BEL where a naval captain headed the engineering decision. By 1982,
the project had become so contentious and large that NHQ intervention was
required to save the sonar. Eventually the trial sonar sailed in the INS
Himgiri and at the very first trial, ranges of 16,000 yards were obtained in
conditions that were truly amazing.
Part of the success of the project was perhaps due to a number of
circumstances. The Nilgiri class of Leanders had been cleared for the Indian
Navy with 184 hull-mounted sonar and the Type 199 variable-depth sonar.
As part of the project training Lt. Paulraj had been deputed to the
Loughborough Underwater Experimental Establishment. Paulraj visited
both Graseby and Plessey Electronics and made up his own mind on what
could be done to improve signal processing. Eventually, it was decided to
keep the engineering outlines of the 184 in the INS Himgiri, the second
Leander, while the trial sonar was under test. The results as stated earlier
were outstanding, but came too late to be fitted as the original sonars in the
Godavari classes that were then being built. Just as the 184 engineering was
retained, so also was the 199 engineering retained for the variable-depth
sonar, the HUMVAD (Hull Mounted and Variable Depth). The APSOH
sonar was eventually renamed the HUMSA (Hull Mounted Panoramic
Sonar). These sonars have become so successful that they have become the
sonar of choice even when world-class equipment in being chosen for new
projects like the Delhi class and the Shivalik class of ships. The depth of
research that has gone into the HUMSA and HUMVAD sonars are likely to
be of immense benefit in future sonar projects like the NAGAN and
MIHIR. The NAGAN is a lightweight towed array, apart from which it has
two arrays pushing out more power than the current varieties. The MIHIR is
the dipping sonar being made for the advanced light helicopter due to be
accepted as a single package helicopter into the Navy.

Ship Building, Ship Design and Interfacing

The Indian Navy’s growth into building larger vessels has a remarkable
background of collaboration not merely between shipyards and designers,
but between the Naval Staff Branch in Naval Headquarters, ship
designers/constructors technical specialists, equipment suppliers and a
unique body in the Indian Navy, later called WESEE (Weapons Electronics
System Engineering Establishment). The latter organization was responsible
to ensure that the Russian missile would understand and accept an input
from an Anshutz (German) Gyro, for instance. Since all major war vessels
built in India have a mixture of Russian weapons and sensors and Western
equipment, the interfacing problem must have been huge, but inevitable.
Yet, it is the Navy alone of the three services that has gone the farthest in
indigenization, leaving the other two services far behind. In that sense, the
work culture in the Navy has often been compared by an expert to the work
culture in two other successful government departments – the atomic energy
commission and the Indian space research organization.
 The Navy sent some of their best officers into Mazagon Docks as they
did into Naval Construction Electrical Subsystems and Department
Research. Firstly by creating a cadre of naval constructors in uniform, who
were in interchangeable jobs, between designing ships and actually building
them in shipyards they became highly specialized in running the Directorate
General of Naval Design. This organization was set up within Naval
Headquarters manned by officers on deputation who were responsible for
indigenization, under the direct control of Naval Headquarters. This meant
that the total involvement of Naval Headquarters in design, construction,
development inspection meant that NHQ was the seller and the buyer at the
same time. The hybridization of Russian weapons and Western equipment
begun in the 1960s with the removal of the missile launchers from missile
boats of project 205 and fitting the launchers on the old Talwar. In about
1975, details of the 5,000 ton Rajput class (Kashin modified) became
available as also the 800-ton ocean-going Durg class. It was thought that the
Rajput radars and the Durg missile could be put together into a stretched
Leander and thus was born the first major indigenous warship – the
Godavari class. At about this time it was realized that there was a difficult
question of interfacing Russian weapons and Western equipment. The
dockyard said it did not have the expertise to do this, but was willing to
fund an organization, subsequently called WESO (Weapons and Electronics
Systems Organization) that would build microprocessor-based interface
boxes between the incompatible weapon and equipment.13
For six years WESO ran as such until a sanction was taken up for a full-
fledged WESEE to handle the projects which were getting bigger. The
lessons learnt from building the Godavari (Type 16) is illustrative. The
naval staff wanted missiles, both SSM and SAMs, accompanying radar on
the basic Leander hull lengthened by 12 to 13 metres, taking the tonnage
close to 4,000. The naval designers discovered to their surprise that the
bigger ship would produce less of a wake trough at 28 knots and would
actually take ‘less’ power to produce the same speed. This enormous
discovery so bolstered the confidence of the design team that the same
boilers, turbines, gearing and transmission could be retained in the Type 16.
The first keel was laid in 1977 and Godavari commissioned in 1983. The
Soviet weapon sensors and equipment used 380-voltsr, 50 cycles whereas
the Leander was eventually a 440 V, 60 cycle ship. The problem was solved
by installing two motor alternations of 380 V, 50 cycles and the ship ran
with two distinct power supplies.
At first, the Soviets were doubtful that the concept of combining their
weapons with Western equipment would work, and they feared that the
reputation of their weapons would suffer if the interface was not successful.
They soon realized that in actual fact their equipment was being opened up
to a wider world and once their cooperation was ensured, the JISWOS was
formed (Joining Indo-Soviet Group on Ship Building) which met every six
months on projects 16, 25, 15, 25A and so on. Once the Soviets realized
that interfacing their system with an equally good system actually improved
their system, data was exchanged frankly and openly. This idea of WESEE
actually was born from reading the experience of the Japanese Navy in
putting in some of their own equipment to avoid the embargo of the US on
some equipment to Japan.
WESEE was the first organization to come up in a developing country
which could interface advanced equipment. WESEE soon realized that with
the help of computers, even old ones, it was quite possible to convert
Western data into usable information by Russian weapons and vice versa.
Naval Headquarters soon realized that the final product of interfacing, for
instance, a Soviet missile with a German gyro and a Dutch radar would be a
system for which Executive Branch would have to not only write special
software, but also special drills and procedures. This work was undertaken
by the Rule Writing Group.
At this stage the Navy made a short diversion into inviting the
participation of wider organizations in the country, namely the Department
of Electronics (DOE) which had the authority to decide whether an
electronic item should be made within the country or imported. This
diversion proved to be a disaster as the decision was made by the DOE to
produce the CAIIS (Command and Control System) and the information
Highway for the Type 16. Eventually DOE could make neither and both had
to be imported, leading to a delay and increase in cost. In mid 1984, the
Naval Staff Branch demanded that DGND start looking at Frigates 10, 11
and 12 as they were then designated. The designers produced an initial
design that was roughly 10 metres longer than Type 16 and would be gas
turbine propelled. The contenders were General Electric LM 2500 and the
Rolls Royce SMIA. The SMIA was soon ruled out because of the low
output. Just about then the Soviets offered a complete weapon package and
a set of gas turbines similar to what were fitted in the Rajput and redesigned
the hull which now came out at 6,300 tons with a length of 161 metres.
This was a considerable shock to the NHQ which was mentally prepared
for 20 per cent increases at a time and not 85 per cent. The Indian designer
team needed to validate the design and this was done at SSPA, Sweden,
who pronounced it to be a good design. The same design was later
rechecked at the Krylov Institute in the USSR and the figures obtained were
similar to the SSPA results. This ship eventually became the first Type 15 –
the INS Delhi.

The Naval Air Arm

The recent narrative of the naval aviation would begin with probably the
last event of the major acquisition of the lot of aircraft flying currently –
namely, the Seaking 42C in 1987 which were acquired because the INS
Viraat was supposed to have a commando role with troop delivery
capability, and often carried a battalion of the Indian Army. The only
subsequent acquisitions were the Dormers which became available from
HAL which made available the aircraft for the Navy, the Coast Guard and
civilian use. The Dormers were justified by the Navy as a replacement for
the Alize carrier-borne MR and ASW aircraft. The Dormers were fitted out
in the MR and the EW role and in the latter version, distinguished
themselves in the Kargil mobilization in 1999.
In the meanwhile the Gorshkov was signed for in 2004 and it was
supposed to commission in 2009, for which 16 MiG aircraft were
contracted for. There was constant pressure from the fact that the LCA was
supposedly just around the corner. The Navy invested in the LCA as the
future deck-bound aircraft (DBA) which would operate along with the MiG
29s, and land and take off similarly. The naval investment hoped that the
LCA would come with an engine powerful enough for a ski jump take-off
and strengthened under carriage for arrested wire recovery.
In the maritime reconnaissance field there was an attempt to update the
IL 38s with the Russian ‘sea-dragon’ suite which had its own limitations. A
similar update for the TU 142s was found to be prohibitively costly owing
to the air frames having almost wasted out and the cost coming very close
to what the US had offered for 4 P3Bs which itself was considered much
too costly. In the meanwhile the two IL 38s were lost in a flying accident
and were replaced with purchases from the Ukraine. Eventually it was
decided to issue global RFIs for long-range MR aircraft and the competition
came down to the Boeing P8s and the Airus version, which priced itself out
of the competition. There was a small diversionary journey to send an RFI
for the short-range MR aircraft to replace the Islanders which was later
withdrawn under some controversy.
The carrier aircraft received high priority and in 2009 a further order was
placed for 23 more MiG 29s, partly for a training squadron and partly as the
complement of aircraft for IAC 1, which was scheduled to commission in
2014. Now the major shortage was in AEW, because no purchases had been
made in that area at all. However, two Kamov 31 AEW aircraft had come
with the Talwar class, connected with data-link to the mother ship and it
was decided to go down that route and eventually nine Ka 31 aircraft were
ordered to make up the complement for the carrier and the Talwar follow on
orders.
The question of replacing all the Sea Kings had to be taken up and there
was an impression in Naval Headquarters that if a bulk order large enough
could be mustered, a manufacture in India could possible. There was a total
requirement of 85 helicopters but the initial RFIs ran into trouble over the
weight specification having to be under 10 tons. This restriction was raised
subsequently to 12 tons and there were more participants, which were
whittled down to two contenders. The ALH was never a contender in this
RFI because the aircraft was unable to produce an adequate time on task
with all the weight that a single package helicopter was designed to carry.
There was also attention given to the replacement for the 67 Chetaks
which could perhaps have been made into a versatile helicopter with the
latest lightweight optronics coming into the market, but there was no
agreement in NHQ and a global RFP has gone out for a helicopter in the 4–
5 ton range. The plans for the LPD forced the naval staff to look at heavy-
lift helicopters too. The requirement was to land one self-sufficient combat
team of a requisite size, which the Army had to specify. This was worked
out to 22 men and it was decided that an LPD would have a complement of
two heavy-lift helos while the carrier would carry four more for use by the
LPD.
The 26/11 Mumbai Attack and the Technological Response

The attack on Mumbai was a traumatic event and resulted in serious

questions being raised about the preparedness of the Navy or Coast Guard
to prevent unauthorized entry into the country from seawards. Strategically
this event occurred at an awkward time – when the Navy was bolstering its
credentials as a blue-water force. Needless to say there were bitter
arguments between all stake holders as to how this event had been allowed
to occur. More importantly the question was how the seaward defence of
the country would be organized so that there was seamless accountability to
prevent a hostile attack like Mumbai.14 A controversy arose between those
who felt that the Navy should not be diverted from its blue-water ambitions
by taking on a coastal defence role out of a panic-stricken reaction to the
Mumbai attack. The technological solution has been to bring all holders of
maritime data into a national command, control and communication and
information network called the NC3I. The NC3I provides a common
communication backbone for information sharing between all stakeholders
in the country. The central hub of the network will be in Gurgaon just west
of Delhi and this node will connect to 38 other nodes across the country,
through terrestrial lines and satellite uplinks. The organization that will be
interfaced will include the Indian Navy, the Coast Guard, the national
network of the Director General of Lighthouses.
The national network assumes that a number of organizations already
have all the information about traffic in and out of India, but that no one
single agency exists to put all this together. For instance, it is accepted that
the jurisdiction of the Indian Navy is beyond the EEZ of the country and
that of the Coast Guard stretches from the outer port limits to the limits of
the EEZ. The marine police are responsible for the coastal surveillance and
the port authorities, for the area of their ports. The national network is
technologically divided into sections A and B, the former interlinking all
maritime operation rooms and area Coast Guard centres, of which there are
13 and 37. The latter (section B) is the satellite overlay for the terrestrial
inter-connection. The coastal centres belonging to the Director General
Lighthouses, and state authorities forms Sections C and Section D is an
information management system and an analysis centre in Gurgaon, west of
Delhi. The 13 naval and 37 Coast Guard station will be connected through
video conferencing and the networks will run through encryption links. The
‘other’ systems that will be linked through to section A include the LRIT of
the DG shipping, the Lloyd’s container ship registry and many more manual
inputs.

Conclusion

The Navy’s path to being a blue-water navy today with a large indigenous
content has been exciting and tricky. This is because early naval planners
kept their sights fixed firmly on becoming as ‘classic’ a navy as possible
and not a truncated ‘built against Pakistan’ navy as many had advised. The
Navy paid the price for this strategic boldness by being reduced to 12 per
cent of the defence budget, at a time when the services used the Pakistan
‘threat’ as the reason for more funding. Naval planners realized that
concentrating on Pakistan would stunt the Navy forever and kept their gaze
on the distant if nebulous goal of a blue-water role. At the same time it did
not neglect the messy war in the Arabian Sea, for which they obtained the
early version of the littoral combat ship – the missile boat and the
Nanuchkas. They still serve as littoral combat ships in the messy melee of
the North Arabian Sea, while freeing the larger warships to their true role in
the outer reaches of the Indian Ocean. This permanent dichotomy in the role
of the Navy will remain as Naval Headquarters attempts to meet the largely
divergent needs of an oceanic role with that of the Pakistan problem.
There are other choices which were difficult but with which the naval
planners have kept faith. One is in naval aviation. At a time of poor funding
it has been easy to criticize the Navy for wanting the luxury of an aircraft
carrier – but eventually the desperate measures to obtain old aircraft carriers
and keep naval aviation alive has paid off in the sense that the Indian Navy
has no problem in commissioning a new aircraft carrier, unlike the Chinese
Navy. It was at the worst time for naval aviation that the Navy acquired
submarines and also learnt about the vulnerability of carriers to submarine
attack – but nevertheless the persistence of the admirals in keeping faith
with the aircraft carrier is indeed an admirable story.
The third issue of note is the story of indigenization. The Navy, alone of
the three services, has made a success of the efforts to indigenize. This has
not been easy nor has it been cheap. In many cases this was achieved by
deputing an outstanding naval officer to DRDO for project work. The
remarkable story of the first attempt to indigenize was the first Leander –
the INS Nilgiri. It was inconceivable in the mid sixties of the last century
that anyone would have seriously considered the possibility that India could
build a modern warship mostly in India and progressively indigenize the
major machinery and equipment. However, the first Leander was an
outstanding success and the rapidity with which the propulsion and gearing
was indigenized is a success story of repute.
For naval planners, the dreaming is not over yet. Most middle-seniority
officers are only too aware that there are only two or three navies in the
world that are still growing and the Indian Navy is one of them. Naval
planners continue to produce and give content to their dreams – starting
with INS Arihant, the nuclear ballistic missile submarine, to the Shivaliks,
to the indigenous aircraft carrier and many more smaller warships. WESEE
continues to turn out electronic wonders of the modern era and no one
actually doing all this work thinks that they are producing anything
outstanding – it is all part of their daily work.
 1 The author commanded a Petya class frigate from 1979 to 1980. Personal experiences.
2 The tanker Rishi VIshwamitra was one of the first tankers to be hit in 1981. The Archana was hit
in November 1983 and the Varuna in April 1983, the Jag Pani in October 1984 and Kanchanjunga in
December 1984.
3 Conversation with senior Indian Navy planner.
4 ‘Two Crews to Train in France’, Times of India, 18 May 2011.
5 ‘India to Issue Tender for Six More Submarines’, Indian Miltary.org, 27 February
6 Experimental gas turbines were on trial in a Danish warship in the early sixties but the Petyas
were the first operational warships with gas turbine propulsion.
7 Interview with the first commanding officer INS Shivalik, August 2011.
8 A. K. Khetan, ‘Challenges of Carrier Design and Construction of Limited Budgets’, in The
Aircraft Carrier in the 21st Century, ed. C. Uday Bhaskar and Shishir Upadhyaya (New Delhi:
National Maritime Foundation and Knowledge World, 2011).
9 M. Jitendran, ‘Challenges of Engendering/Creating Domestic Industrial Capacity for
construction of Indigenous Aircraft Carrier’, in The Aircraft Carrier in the 21st Century, ed. C. Uday
Bhaskar and Shishir Upadhyaya (New Delhi: National Maritime Foundation and Knowledge World,
2011).
10 The author was the project manager for the import of German submarine building technology,
on deputation to Mazagon dock from 1982 to 1984. The author was later the Director, Submarine
Acquisition for the ‘k’ class submarines 1986-87.
11 Russian Navy Chief Vysotsky quoted as saying that Indian crew were ready to take over the
submarine, 1 July 2011.
12 Taken from Commander Paulraj’s Reminiscences, in Transition to Eminence, ed. Vice Admiral
Hirnandani (New Delhi: Lancer, 20050, p. 176.
13 Ibid., chs 10 and 11.
14 Interview with senior Coast Guard officer.
 PART II
External Dynamic
 Chapter 6
Sea Dragon at the Doorstep: PLA(N)
Modernization and the Indian Navy
Probal Ghosh

The navy should ‘accelerate its transformation and modernization in a sturdy way, and make
extended preparations for military combat in order to make greater contributions to safeguard
national security and world peace’. (Chinese President Hu Jintao Speech to the Central Military
Commission December 2011)1

The Chinese have an inherent desire to enhance their status in the hierarchal
world order by increasing their Comprehensive National Power (CNP).2 It
seems to be able to synergize the growth in their military prowess with that
of their economic strategy and the increasingly assertive foreign policy.
However, a paradoxical and unique feature of Chinese growth patterns
has been the manner in which the Chinese intellectual elite perceive the
world which prima facie seems contradictory. On the one hand is the concept
of a unipolar world that looms large against the background of the
continuous and proverbial struggle against the hegemonic forces of a super
power (meaning the US) in place, while emerging powers like India, Japan
and Russia struggle for ascendancy. China seeks to dominate the region by
rising above these up and coming powers through multi-pronged efforts. On
the other hand, there exists a humbling realization that despite its near
double-digit economic growth and rising military prowess, China is not
really in a position to viably compete with these states in all spheres. This
undoubtedly imposes certain constraints on its foreign policy necessitating
certain concessions that the Chinese are keen to overcome quickly. It is in
this short time frame, in which their fast-paced economic developments and
social transformation must continue while limiting any external threats to
peace and stability, that calls for a continuous rearrangement and re-
appreciation of its foreign policy objectives and priorities.3
It is for these reasons that the Chinese have been continuously re-defining
their foreign policy priorities to adjust to the evolving geostrategic scenario.
Having realized the importance of maritime power in its achievement of
national objectives, the Chinese PLA(N) no longer makes a secret of its
aspiration of becoming a Pacific naval power, thus attempting to come on at
par with the United States. The facade of being a responsible ‘growing
power’ and creating a harmonious environment with a focus on development
and peaceful coexistence seems to be eroding slowly. In its place, there have
been increasing shows of Chinese assertiveness4 with the partial rejection of
the older policy of ‘keeping a low profile’. An earlier but currently
somewhat defunct policy that had found impetus when Jiang Zemin said at a
conference at the Communist Party of China (CPC) Central Committee in
January 2002 that China should ‘sheathe the sword and practise humility’, in
order to gain time and build up the aggregate state power and only then start
laying claim to a role as a world leader.5 This is a policy that is perceived to
have changed course to a more assertive bearing especially while dealing
with neighbours and other countries which might have a bearing on China’s
growth pattern.
The PLA(N) recent actions of assertiveness in the South and East China
Seas are often marked by reiteration of its territorial claims in those areas
and its determination to protect its right to fish, explore minerals, oil and gas
in the areas claimed by it. It is also marked by the expression of its readiness
to use its navy6 and military force in ostensibly ‘solving’ sovereignty issues.
However, given the large distances and the requirement of having lengthy
and vulnerable logistic chains, the Chinese have adopted a slightly more
cautious approach in the Indian Ocean region – though the footprints in this
region seem to be growing larger by the day.
Notwithstanding their current aggressive posturing, mainly in the South
China Sea – the generic trend of their foreign policy continues to build
relations with the US and some of its allies on one hand while resisting US
containment strategy on the other. Simultaneously China also seeks a closer
strategic relationship with Russia and its neighbours. Thus in essence the
Chinese are adopting multi-pronged approaches and elements of diplomacy
for its forays into the developing world while at the same time developing
strong bridges with the Western world from whom it seeks technology
imports, an export market and economic leverages to invest in its large
surplus reserves of foreign exchange.
One of these approaches is that the Chinese armed forces are undergoing
rapid transformation and modernization simultaneously. This modernization
is not only aimed at enhancing the inventory levels of the military but also
its mindset in a process that is termed as Defence Transformation with
Chinese characteristics.
The Chinese Navy, till recently a neglected force in a Communist country
with traditional continental leanings, has received considerable priority in
recent years. The realization that maritime power often holds the key to
enhanced international status, achieving national objectives and a means of
expanding influence through various naval roles in peace time has affected
this re-appreciation.
The aim of this chapter is to explore a profile of the PLA(N), its doctrinal
approaches, its broad strategy, its pronouncements in its White paper and
then template them over the Indian maritime calculus to see the emerging
contours of dissonance and congruence.

PLA Navy

Till early 1990s, it was evident that modern Chinese had an overwhelming
continental mindset. The maritime forces had always performed a much
subordinate role to the PLA Army which was considered far superior to the
Navy. However with the realization that maritime power was one of the most
important facets in ‘great power ambitions’ and a key to ensuring the free
flow of trade and energy supply dynamics and hence to that of overall
national development – there has been a considerable change in mindsets.
Seemingly PLA(N)’s modernization trajectory has been dramatic and a
previously unthinkable scenario has played itself out in that it is being
accorded a higher priority than PLA with respect to modernization.

The Organization

Formed in 23 April 1949 when 9 warships and 17 boats from the Nationalist
forces defected to the Communists – the PLA Navy has definitely come a
long way. Till recently, it was treated as a step-child where the central party
was entirely focused in consolidating its land frontiers which was the top
priority, since their conception. However, that sheer neglect of maritime
forces is a thing of the past.7 Currently the 255,000-man People’s Liberation
Army Navy (PLAN) is organized into three major fleets: the North Sea Fleet
headquartered at Qingdao, the East Sea Fleet headquartered at Ningbo and
the South Sea Fleet headquartered in Zhanjiang. Each fleet consists of a
number of surface ships, submarines, naval air force, coastal defence and
marine units. The PLA(N) headquarters is a military region grade
organization with its commander being equal to a military region
commander. There also exists a political commissar who is junior to him in
rank but equal in influence and powers.
The Navy includes a 35,000-strong Coastal Defence Force and 56,000
personnel of the Naval infantry/marines (two multi-arm marine brigades), in
addition to 56,000 personnel who man the PLA(N) Aviation naval air arm
operating 800 land-based aircraft and ship-based helicopters and aircrafts of
other types. Unfortunately most of these aircrafts are obsolete and only about
290 are deemed to be combat worthy.8
The organization of each fleet provides an indication of its type of role
that has been allocated to it. The primary role of the North Fleet is to
maintain a readiness for operations in the East China seas and in addition to
provide second-strike capability for strategic locations in the Pacific Ocean.
The East Fleet, on the other hand, with nearly half of PLA(N)’s landing
ships under its direct control, is primarily tasked to undertake amphibious
landings in Taiwan in case of requirement.
The largest and the most modern fleet – the South Sea Fleet – on the other
hand is primarily tasked to oversee the Chinese ‘core interest’ in South
China Sea. Equipped with a 10,000-strong marine corps and a new
underground nuclear submarine base – the other role of this fleet is probably
to deter increasing US forays into the area.
It is noteworthy that the PLA(N)’s surface forces are organized into three
levels of Headquarters: Zhidui (divisional level), Dadui (squadron level) and
Zhongdui (unit level).9

Drivers of PLA(N) Modernization

Apart from the potential of the Taiwan Strait crisis, there exists the dire
necessity to ensure the safety of its SLOCs and energy lifelines that flow
from West Asia. This enhanced sensitivity to SLOCs primarily arises due to
the forecast of Chinese energy dependence rising to 76.9 per cent by 2020
(while for rest of South Asia it will be 96.1 per cent). In addition the
significant threat posed by US presence in the Pacific Ocean and their
containment strategies are the principal drivers for the maritime
enhancement to a ‘blue-water’ navy. In addition the Chinese also want a
navy that can also withstand the snooping of US intelligence platforms,
continuously operating within the Chinese EEZ.
A leading report from CRS in US, however, attributes the following
additional causes to this enhancement:10

1. Ensuring China’s status as a significant maritime power.

2. Displacing the prominent status of US naval forces in the region.
3. Asserting its territorial claims in the sensitive South China Sea.

This renewed focus on the naval modernization and the acquisition of

maritime assets has been reinforced by increased financial allocations in the
Defence Budget by PLA(N) ensnaring nearly 24 per cent of the overall
budgetary allocation. The official Chinese defence budget stands at US$91.5
bn which is an increase of 12.7 per cent over last year.

Inventorial Approach

The PLA(N) initially was totally dependent on Soviet origin hardware which
was the mainstay of their forces. However, with passage of time, increasing
domestic production overcame this dependence. In the last several years, the
PRC has made progress in modernizing its fleet with the purchase of
Sovremenny class destroyers and Kilo class submarines, as well as
domestically producing Lanzhou class destroyers. It is noteworthy as a mark
of their technological prowess they have also been successful in designing
and producing submarines like the Yuan class submarines.
However, despite these rapid advances, in technological ability and
indigenous capability roughly half of China’s major combat vessels and a
large number of the smaller vessels are still from obsolescent classes and
have not been replaced by newer modern designs
Currently, despite the setbacks of quality and quantity, the PLA(N) has
been aggressively pursuing a multi-pronged approach towards its inventory
modernization. This is being done by tapping into its indigenous defence
industry for building ships and submarines in dedicated shipyards and yet on
the other hand pursuing a programme of directly purchasing warships as
well as weapon platforms from Russia and other countries like Ukraine.
One of the biggest issues that has been associated inventory enhancement
of the PLA(N) has been with that of the aircraft carrier. An issue connected
more with prestige than its practical usage as a command platform – in the
current context. It is well known that the PLA(N) has been over-anxious to
add a carrier to its fleet for a long time. After numerous failed attempts at
building on old scrapped carriers, as well as purchasing them off the shelf –
finally the 67,500-ton ex-Varyag, an Admiral Kuznetsov class aircraft
carrier, was purchased through a private tourist venture in Macau in 1998
ostensibly for its conversion to a casino or theme park (as was with the case
of Minsk). Varyag at the time of purchase was stripped of all its weapon
platforms, along with its propulsion and was only 70 per cent completed and
floating in Ukraine. Subsequently towed to Dalian ship yard the ship
underwent extensive refurbishment coordinated by Dalian Shipbuilding
Industry Company. Recently on 10 August 2011, it was officially announced
that the refurbishment of the carrier had been completed to make way for its
extensive sea trials11 which had commenced by then.
To prepare for carrier operations, the PLA(N) has been readying itself in
many ways including training its pilots on the decommissioned Melbourne.
In addition, it has reportedly constructed a concrete mock-up of a carrier
flight deck on top of a government building near Wuhan, to use for training
carrier pilots and carrier operations personnel.12 It has been earlier reported
by the media that the Brazilian Navy has been willing to provide training in
carrier operations to its Chinese counterparts in exchange for
assistance/transfer of nuclear submarine technology combined with
additional funding.13
Submarines have always played a significant role in the development of
the PLA(N)’s doctrinal approaches and assault plans. This was made evident
by the construction of a new type of nuclear submarine, the Type 094 the
Type 093 nuclear attack submarine and its variation, the Type 095. It is
expected that submarines would continue to provide the Chinese with the
desired response to the need of a seaborne nuclear deterrent.
The focus on submarines and their importance to Chinese maritime
strategy has also been evidenced by the construction of a major underground
nuclear submarine base near Sanya, at Hainan islands.14 In December 2007,
the first Type 094 submarine was moved to Sanya and on 1 May 2008
tunnels built into the hillsides were capable of hiding up to 20 nuclear
submarines from snooping spy satellites.
There have been numerous unconfirmed reports of the Chinese opting for
purchase or lease of Russian nuclear attack submarines, particularly the
Akula class. However, it is considered unlikely that Russians will ever agree
to sell such high-technology submarines to China, nor are the Chinese likely
to be interested in wasting money on run-down Russian attack submarines
since its own 093 class is nearing completion and the 095 class has nearly
been developed.

Future Fleet

The modernization of the PLA(N) is proceeding at a hectic pace. While this

transformation – with Chinese characteristics – is expected to affect all
aspects of the Chinese Navy, like inventory, infrastructure, training,
operational approaches and so on, it will be the inventory enhancement that
will garner the maximum exposure in the international media. The aim of the
planners will obviously be to balance assets for maximizing the fighting
effectiveness thus building a lean effective force capable of operating in
‘distant seas’ as well as in ‘near seas’.
Thus the attempt is to phase out obsolete combat ships (based on 1960 or
older designs) in the coming decades with more modern designs entering the
fleet. But given the various constraints this process may well take a decade
or more to take effect with the decommissioning/scrapping of the bulk of
these older ships.

Doctrinal Approaches

The Chinese visualize their country as unlike any other, endowed with a rich
and long civilizational history. They feel that maintenance of peace and
harmony is essential all around the periphery of their country and hence
claim that they inherently follow a defensive and harmonious rather than
offensive approach to international relations. Ironically, they are convinced
of this view point and argue that their doctrinal approaches are mainly
‘benevolent’ by nature. Unfortunately, this view has limited proponents in
the outside world. The Western world at large, the Indian Ocean littorals,
most neighbours of China including India share a different perspective of the
Chinese approaches in which they see the growing prowess in economic and
military affairs with apprehension and alarm. Thus China is often seen as a
revisionist power and a potential threat/adversary.
It was in 1987 that the PLA(N) formally put forward a three-phase
strategy extending over a period of 50 years to turn their navy from that of a
coastal defence force into a blue-water maritime force.15 According to the
outlined projection, as a part of the first phase, the PLA(N) wanted to
acquired sea-control power within its coastal waters by 2000. In the second
phase it was expected to have acquired a degree of sea-denial capability
within the first island chain in the West Pacific in 2010–20.16
However, during the 1990s the relatively unimpressive and constrained
development and modernization programme of the PLA(N) delayed the
suggested targets of the first phase by several years. The pattern of its flat
growth in the 1990s was broken following Beijing’s preparation for a
conflict in the 1999s. The US bombing of China’s Belgrade Embassy and the
worsening situation in the Taiwan Straits set the pace for naval
development.17 By the beginning of 2000, the modernization of the PLA(N)
and its transformation had accentuated to visibly higher levels. For example
during the first half of the decade, the number of new major combatants had
more than doubled that of the entire 1990s ensuring a frantic pace of growth.
While the first phase itself has been modified to suit the prevailing
conditions and with the obsolescence of concepts of true sea control – which
are often unachievable- with the current trend of transformation continuing,
it may well be able to attain a modified version of its second and third phase
objectives in accordance to the original plan but with a delayed time line.
This sharp and almost sudden upwards trajectory in modernization can be
attributed to several reasons. Firstly, China’s rapid economic expansion can
now provide greater material and technological support for a speedier naval
modernization. Secondly, the PLA’s perception that China’s future war will
be fought in its maritime regions18 has given a tremendous impetus for naval
development, in terms of budgetary allocation and foreign procurement.
Thirdly, for about 20 years the PLA’s R&D guiding principle has been ‘more
research and trial, less series production and equipment’.19 This was a period
of technological foundation-building which is now being built upon.
Fourthly, after 20 years of study the PLA(N) has obtained a better
understanding of deep-ocean warfare and this helps it to address its doctrinal
defects of the past in tune for a true blue-water navy. Simultaneously, it has
also mastered the best naval ideas of the Western powers and embraced the
IT-RMA concepts which it has identified as the type/format of war it is
likely to fight in future.20 Now the PLA(N) has placed equal emphasis on
both the hardware and the systems integration in building its modern fleets.
The current IT driven PLA transformation has injected the required thrust to
the naval modernization.
Several elements of China’s military modernization have potential
implications for future Indian naval capabilities. These include theatre-range
ballistic missiles (TBMs), land-attack cruise missiles (LACMs), anti-ship
cruise missiles (ASCMs), surface-to-air missiles (SAMs), land-based
aircraft, submarines, surface combatants, amphibious ships, naval mines,
nuclear weapons, and possibly high-power microwave (HPM) devices.
On the other hand the Chinese Navy is handicapped with several
limitations or weaknesses which include capabilities for operating in distant
waters (notwithstanding the deployment of the CTF 525 for anti-piracy
patrols in the Horn of Africa), carrying out joint theatre operations, C4ISR
(command, control, communications, computers, intelligence, surveillance
and reconnaissance), long-range surveillance and targeting systems, anti-air
warfare (AAW), anti-submarine warfare (ASW), mine countermeasures
(MCM) and logistics supply chains.
Currently the longer-term objectives of the Chinese Navy include
asserting China’s regional military leadership and protecting China’s
maritime territorial, economic and energy interests. The last of these may
bring it in direct opposition with the Indian Navy – especially in areas like
the South China Sea where the Chinese have opposed the exploration of the
ONGC Videsh’s bid to explore for oil in the Vietnamese EEZ.

Evolving Strategy

Most PLA(N) strategies still have an ‘army stamp’ and the usage of its
terminology is still common. The distinctness of the maritime component
becomes visible only at a later tactical stage. The Maoist notion of Peoples
War and its subsequent modifications have now given way to ‘local war
under conditions of informationalization’ and more importantly led to the
formulation of the concept of ‘active defence’. It endeavours to refine the
command and control system for joint training and joint operations – an
aspect that is the weak point of the PLA(N). The guideline lays stress on
close coordination of military operations on one side and the political
diplomatic economic cultural and legal efforts on the other.21 In 1985 the
CMC approved the PLA(N) component of “Active Defence” known as
‘offshore defence’ or the ‘offshore defence strategy’. This strategy has also
been interpreted as one which directs the Navy to ‘keep enemy within limits
and resist invasion from sea, safeguard its maritime rights’ by engaging in
maritime operations out at sea.
However, it must be stated that this concept seems to be evolving with
time. Since its formulation in the early 80s to its formal acceptance in 1985
there was intense debate within the PLA(N) about the precise distance or
range from the coast – that would be the outer ambit within which the
concept of ‘off shore would be valid’. One school of thought within the
PLA(N) felt that the range was a function of the operational reach of the
land-based aircraft of the PLA along with the reach of its submarines – but
the US feels that it is a dynamic concept that is independent of precise
values. In an official report the concept has been described as ‘As far as the
PLA(N) capabilities will allow it to operate its task forces out at sea with the
requisite amount of support and security’.22
The other aspect of its military strategy has been the ‘Military Operations
other than war’ (MOOTW) which is an important aspect of projecting its
military prowess. It includes anti-piracy operations (in thefar-off Indian
Ocean), HA/DR (Humanitarian Assistance and Disaster Relief) and such
operations. The PLA(N) strategy includes increasing the scope of operations
and the doctrinal approach in tune with the MOOTW which is non-
aggressive and an effective format of soft power projection.

Budgetary Allocations

One of the most important drivers for the naval modernization has been the
inflow of financial resources through budgetary allocations. The Chinese
defence budget has been growing considerably with the impetus coming
from the near double-digit economic growth. In 2012 China’s defence
budget is expected to rise by 11.2 per cent to a phenomenal 670.27 bn yuan
($106.41 bn), crossing the proverbial $100 bn mark and hence coming
second to that of US which nearly spends $740 bn on its defence. The
percentage increase marks a slowdown from 2011 when defence spending
rose by 12.7 per cent but is still likely to encourage persistent apprehensions
over the Chinese growing aggressive posturing (assertiveness) in the South
China Sea and the Indian Ocean region. However, the Chinese spokesman Li
Zhaoxing stated that the growth of China’s defence expenditure is
‘reasonable and appropriate’. Further stating that ‘The limited military
strength of China is solely for safeguarding its national sovereignty and
territorial integrity, and will not pose a threat to any country’, adding that
while China’s military spending amounted to (a meagre) 1.28 per cent of its
GDP in 2011, that of the United States, Britain and other countries all
exceed 2 per cent.23
In sharp comparison, the Chinese official budget is nearly three times that
of the Indian Defence budget which stands at nearly $36 bn and is the tenth
largest in the world.
However, it must be mentioned that the official PLA budget does not
include nuclear weapons. Cruise missile development and fighter aircraft
development which are covered under Science/Space development budget.
The other aspects not covered under the defence budget are foreign weapon
purchases, military Rand D, and the People’s Armed Police Force. Taking
these unspecified, amorphous aspects into account, the actual Chinese
defence budget could well be nearly double the officially proclaimed figures.

Chinese Defence White Paper 2010

While assessing the Chinese Navy and the effect of its modernization on the
Indian Navy, it is important to assess what the Chinese have to say officially
about their own defence forces. The best document to explore this aspect is
the Defence White paper which is China’s biennial attempt at creating
enhanced levels of transparency about its military ‘intentions’ and
modernization. It came to the fore again, by the release of the document
‘China’s National Defence in 2010’, on 31 March 2011 – the seventh such
White paper since 1998.
A document that is essentially meant to be an instrument of strategic
messaging – surprisingly, the White paper acknowledges that ‘suspicion
about China, interference and countering moves against China from the
outside are on the increase’ hence it attempts to bridge the trust gap created
due to China’s growing defence spending and military modernization,
 However, it is debatable if such an elaborate exercise of perception
management in reality achieves its primary objective since it often reveals
less and hides more leading to enhancing of the trust deficit.
This document essentially outlines the following tasks for the PLA in
support of its National Defence objectives:

• Safeguarding national sovereignty and security while defending

Chinese territories over land and sea and supporting Chinese security
interests in outer space and cyberspace in interests of national
development.
• Maintenance of social harmony, world peace and stability.
• Enhanced modernization of National Defence and the Armed Forces.24

Rejecting the old stereotyped image of PLA that was equipped with obsolete
weaponry to overwhelm its adversary by sheer numbers, this document
states that the PLA in fact is focusing on transforming itself by stressing on
quality, efficiency and high technology.
Commenting on the maritime activities which have an underlying and
unstated purpose – the PLA Navy is seen to have evolved ‘in line with the
requirements of offshore defence strategy’. With no clear enunciation of the
conceptual and geographical ambit of ‘offshore defence strategy’, Chinese
Navy now seeks new methodologies of logistics support for sustaining long-
term distant maritime. Thus the implication of this being that it is keen to
acquire some of the tenants of a ‘blue-water naval force’ while operating in
the region.
In the Defence White paper of 2008, the Chinese had defined and used
the term Military Operations Other Than War (MOOTW). This concept has
been used again in the current White paper which emphasizes the overseas
role of the PLA(N) for MOOTW. In effect it effectively sends out a strategic
message of its growing expeditionary capacity which encompasses concepts
of ‘sustainability and reach’. Concepts have been put into practice as
evidenced by its continuous anti-piracy patrol near the Horn of Africa by the
CTF 525.
The paper also proudly lists several accomplishments in the field of
MOOTW, such as participation in UN Peacekeeping Operations,
contributions to domestic and international disaster relief efforts (HADR
operations), and the PLA (N)’s involvement in counter-piracy patrols off of
coast of Somalia and in the Indian Ocean. The latter is seen as a primary
means of enhancing China’s footprints in the region.
The document also talks of various joint exercises being held with
various navies of the world including India – which signify that the PLA(N)
has shed its earlier isolationistic approach and is willing to engage with
neighbouring navies – not only to cooperate, engage and enhance inter-
operability but more importantly to assess the capability and capacity of
these naval forces during the exercises.
The 2010 paper highlights the concept of operating in ‘distant waters’ as
part of its military modernization process and lays further stress on this
concept which can be equated to blue-water naval operations, thus
conveying the message that the Chinese are keen to enhance the capacity and
capability of its navy to a blue-water status.
The latest White paper has, for the first time, included a section titled
‘Military Confidence-Building’, which highlight the Chinese efforts in
reducing the level of mistrust with its neighbours, by creating effective
CBMs (Confidence-Building Measures) with them. It mentions agreements
signed with India in 1993, 1996 and 2005 as well as other CBMs undertaken
in border regions with other countries. It outlines the cooperative approaches
adopted in maritime security, its participation in regional security
mechanisms and military exchanges with other states
Issues that remain unstated are more important than subjects that have
been commented upon. Hence the document does not touch upon certain
aspects that have remained debatable and have been instrumental in
enhancing the trust deficit between the regional and Chinese navies.

Aircraft Carrier

This document makes no mention of the much-hyped China’s aircraft carrier

programme which was unveiled subsequently just prior to the
commencement of its sea trials. It has often been projected that the Chinese
have made considerable attempts at procuring an aircraft carrier – which is
linked not only in providing a command and control platform for naval
maritime operations – but more importantly as a measure of enhancing
prestige, since China was the only permanent member of the Security
Council without an aircraft carrier.
Chinese Anti-Ship Ballistic Missile (ASBM) Programme

The report also contains no mention of China’s ASBM (Anti-Ship Ballistic

Missile) programme, which could pose considerable threat to ships of
adversarial navies. An operational Chinese ASBM system with a range of
1,500 km could prompt a re-appreciation of carrier-based operations within a
threat envelope extending far into the South China Sea, Northern Indian
Ocean, and Western Pacific. It would also hamper Indian warship operation
in the vicinity while the ASBM reinforces the importance of submarines for
all regional navies with large capital surface ships not being nearly as
survivable as before.

Enhancing the Space-Based ISR Capabilities

This is another aspect that has been ignored in the document. It is well
known that China is enhancing its space-based surveillance, intelligence and
reconnaissance capability (ISR) and has launched seven Yaogan surveillance
satellites since December 2009, which suggests that spaced-based
reconnaissance capability is high priority for the PRC. It must be further
noted that a major portion of China’s launches involve satellites that are
helping to build up a persistent and survivable ISR capability along China’s
maritime periphery and beyond.

Sea/Air Lift of PLA(N)

Sea and airlift capability is one of the most important aspects in littoral
warfare and the 2010 Defence White paper makes no mention of the
deployment of PLA (N) and PLA (AF) forces to help secure the evacuation
of Chinese citizens from Libya, which is a historical first and send the
strategic message of being able to sea and airlift vast numbers of citizens in
times of need. This was a clear display of sea/air lift capacity and the
operational flexibility in dealing with such large numbers of personnel or
citizens.

PLA(N) and the Indian Maritime Calculus

Modern Indian and the Chinese navies have evolved from different
traditions, sources and share a different heritage – however, since
Independence, both have been sufferers of the ‘sea blindness’ of the
continentally inclined policy-makers but have undergone a paradigm shift
recently. The maritime neglect has now changed, leading to a sharply
upward trajectory in national priority and their respective modernization
programmes. But the paths of this upward trajectory have been slightly
diverse. While the Chinese naval ‘rise’ and its perceived aggressive actions
have been viewed with considerable apprehension amongst the IOR littorals
and some of China’s neighbours, the rise of the Indian Navy has somehow
raised fewer eyebrows and has been seen as non-threatening.
It is noteworthy that while in 1996 both defence budgets (of India and
China) were almost at par – today the Chinese official defence budget nearly
2.2 times that of the Indian one. This difference is more noteworthy if
viewed within the context of the burgeoning indigenous defence
manufacturing capacity of the Chinese. In comparison the Indian Defence
industry has been comparatively slow.25
At the level of the force inventory, a prima facie ‘bean counting’
comparison would be an inaccurate measure of the capabilities since the
PLA(N) still has a large number of warships that are obsolete by today’s
standard and hence would heavily outnumber the Indian naval inventory.
The power projection of the Chinese Navy and its increasing forays into the
IOR has been the centre of much security analysis. Its non-military benign
activities like anti-piracy patrols (CTF 525) has also been seen through the
prism of a display of ‘strategic reach and sustenance’ in the strategic back
yard of India. However, a closer analysis would reveal that the capacity of
PLA(N) to project its forces in the IOR is heavily constrained. With 10
modern destroyers, 24 modern frigates and 5 ocean-going tankers, the
PLA(N) that is heavily focused on the Taiwan imbroglio and the situation in
the South China Sea and Western Pacific is unlikely to be able to deploy
more than one-third of its inventory in the IOR.
Table 6.1 A comparison of the number of warships
 The ability to deploy units from its vast fleet of submarines into the IOR
is also limited. The SSBNs and some of the SSNs are required for
deployment in the Pacific, while Kilo class are more suited for the South
China Sea and the Taiwan Straits. The older submarines are unsuitable for
‘operation in distant waters’26 which would probably leave the balance SSNs
to be deployed in IOR. They would in many ways also offset the
disadvantage of having minimal air cover for its surface combatants.
The other important distinction between the two growing navies that is
often glossed over is that, only certain units of the PLA(N) have seen
extensive modernization while the mindset of a majority of the personnel
continues to be that of a coastal force steeped in original Communist
traditions and ideologies of the past. However, these are changing rapidly –
attempting to keep pace with that of modernizing inventories and
technology. It is probably in this area that the Indian Navy with a democratic
background would score over to an extent though notably, it is recently that
Indian Navy itself has overcome its isolationistic path by adopting a more
liberal and cooperative approach towards other navies of the region.

The Chinese String of Pearls and India’s Response Strategy

The Chinese attempts at adopting a containment strategy for India has been
viewed with concern amongst most Indian analysts and debated extensively.
Termed as the ‘string of pearls’ it encompasses the strategy to build ‘pearls’
or points of leverage in areas that dot the Indian Ocean or its entrances hence
in the process they strategically surround India. This encirclement of India
combined with the PLA(N)’s increased forays into an area regarded as
India’s strategic backyard has raised the hackles of the Indian strategists and
also caused concern amongst the littorals. The Chinese argue that its
attempts to increase its footprints in IOR arise from its sheer dependency on
trade and the energy lifelines through SLOCs that pass through that area.
Since this strategy to gain entry encompasses India – this plan serves this
dual purpose of gaining entry/influence in IOR as well ‘contain’ its regional
competitor in addition.
Notwithstanding the above nuances, alarmed with PLA(N)’s enhanced
forays into the IOR, India has been attempting counter-encirclement
response strategies by casting its geostrategic net wide and encircling China.
In the process it is actively pursuing a multi-pronged initiative which seeks
to neutralize Chinese influence in its immediate neighbourhood while
simultaneously courting states on China’s periphery many of whom are
anxious of its new found aggressiveness.
Consequently as part of the ‘Look East policy’ – north-east Asia is an
area of Indian attention. The volatility of the entire region rests on the
maverick North Korea that has found support from the Chinese. As a means
of counter-balancing this, India has made it a point to enhance its relations
with South Korea. After having invited the South Korean president as a chief
guest for the 2010 Republic Day celebrations and elevating the bilateral
relation to a ‘strategic partnership’, there have been many high-level visits.
The Indian Defence minister visited Seoul in September 2010 and ‘signed’
two defence-related Memoranda of Understanding (MoUs) during his visit.27
And more importantly he discussed a bilateral nuclear treaty. It is
noteworthy that the expanding Indian naval presence in the Indian Ocean is
viewed positively by the South Koreans who desire a stable oceanic region
in the IOR with their increasing dependence Indian Ocean SLOCs for trade
and commerce.
Japan is one of the power points in the Asian continent. Its financial
clout, and technologically advanced military and and un-weaponized nuclear
capability are aspects that indicate its rising individual status in the Asian
order and hierarchy despite its pacifist constitution and its alliance with the
US. With its traditional and inherent suspicion of the Chinese supported by a
relationship that is pockmarked with numerous disputes like those regarding
the sovereignty of the islands of Senkaku – the Japanese have naturally
moved closer to India elevating its relation to a ‘strategic partnership’. This
was further enhanced in substance with the Japanese having agreed at one
time (prior to the Fukushima nuclear disaster) to sign a nuclear deal with
India which would enable the Japanese companies to participate in the civil
nuclear energy sector in India. Additionally the 2+2 dialogue format – held
for the first time beyond US and Australia (their traditional allies) – would
definitely ensure that the security relationship gets further strengthened to
the discomfiture of the Chinese.
Historically the Vietnamese also share an innate distrust of the Chinese.
Hence, this rapidly rising nation is seen as a linchpin in India’s policy of
counter-encirclement and is being actively cultivated with many defence-
related offers as well as infrastructural ones. ONGC Videsh Limited (OVL)
is actively involved in exploring seas (blocks) in the EEZ of Vietnam –
which has met with strong disapproval from the Chinese who regard the
entire area as disputed.28
In an effort to support the Vietnamese voice, India recently ‘spoke
against’ China at the ARF meeting on the South China Sea imbroglio which
was followed by the PLA(N) challenging an Indian warship Airavat – on
passage from Vietnam where it had gone for a port call.29 With the necessity
of deepening its relations with Vietnam – India is ready to help in training
Vietnamese army officers in jungle warfare and counter-insurgency. In the
maritime sphere, the cooperation between Indian Coast Guard and the
Vietnamese equivalent agencies have also grown. Given the necessity of
‘keeping an eye’ on the Chinese activities in the area, India is keen to have
basing rights or rights for ‘turn around’ in Vietnamese ports like Na Trang
for its naval warships. This would not only help in establishing a presence in
the region but would serve as a quid pro quo for the Chinese activities in the
IOR.
Apart from these countries, India has also made focused attempts at
enhancing its politico-military relations with Singapore Indonesia and
Philippines.
The development of the Sri Lankan port of Hambantota30 by the Chinese
had earlier raised hackles amongst the Indian security community as it was
viewed as yet another ‘pearl’ in the string – however, in an effort to assuage
Indian feelings, the Sri Lankans have allowed India to open a consulate in
Hambantota, this being in addition to one in Jaffna. Thus, enabling India to
watch the Chinese activities in the area and neutralizing the perceived China
bias. But probably India did not bargain for the other ‘threat’ that may arise
from the $450 million deal, signed in September 2010, for the modernization
of Colombo port that is to be undertaken by yet another Chinese company
called China Merchants Holdings on a joint venture along with the local
company Aitiken Spence. Fortunately India has extensive defence ties with
Sri Lanka which have been re-invigorated following the demise of the
LTTE.
Myanmar’ is one of the most important countries in the Indian response
strategy. The news of Chinese help in modernization of Kyuak Phyu deep-
sea port, along with Hanggyi and Mergui and various infrastructural projects
in the hinterland have been a matter of concern for the Indian strategist. This
has prompted the Indians to actively woo the Myanmarese government. A
point that was proved when the President Thien Sein came calling mid
October 2011 with a high-powered delegation comprising 69 delegates.
India announced a credit line of $500 million during the visit. Earlier the
SPDC chairman Senior General Than Shwe had visited India in July 2010
and signed five documents denoting the paradigm shift in Indo-Myanmar
relations. On offer had been numerous infrastructural project and other
inducements like the $60 million line of credit for development of railways,
another $60 million for revamping of the Rhi-Tiddim road to enhance
connectivity to north-eastern states, apart from developing the Sittwe port. In
the defence and security arena, India has expressed its readiness to supply
Myanmar with fast inshore and offshore boats and interceptors to patrol its
rivers and deltas along with military equipment and training of naval
personnel.
Bangladesh is another country that has in recent times given a fillip to its
relation with India. Besides signing five deals, three of which are security
related, India has offered a credit line of $1 bn for a range of projects – the
largest credit package ever received by Bangladesh in recent times. In turn
Bangladesh has asked China to utilize Chittagong harbour for commercial
purposes three months after making a similar offer to India.
The Indian Ocean islands – which have been actively wooed by the
Chinese – have also been at the receiving end of Indian largesse. This has
partly helped in offsetting the Chinese bias with mixed results. India is not
only planning to help the Seychelles to carry out maritime surveillance but
the Defence Minister during a visit promised three aircraft (one Dornier
aircraft and two Chetaks helicopters) to the Seychelles for maritime
surveillance to counter growing asymmetric threats arising from the
maritime domain.
The Maldives has also been in the receiving end after persistent efforts by
the Chinese in getting a toe-hold in the area. India will apparently help the
Maldives to set up a network of ground radars in all its 26 atolls and link
them with the Indian military surveillance systems. This would effectively
negate any hope of the Chinese in developing a forward base in any of the
islands.
In West Asia, India has been strengthening its economic, security and
diplomatic relationship with Iran – one of the regional power centres in the
area. It has got itself deeply involved in the building of infrastructural
projects in Iran and a series of agreements have been signed to this effect.
These include enhancement of facilities at a number of ports, a road linking
Iran to Afghanistan and beyond, development of a new port complex at
Charharbagh along with a road linking it to Afghanistan. In addition, India
has also helped in connecting Zajranj on Iran Afghan border to Delaram and
all major cities of Afghanistan, finally to be linked to Central Asian
republics. This is a major project with strategic undertones.
At the strategic level – while neutralizing Chinese ‘pearls’ is one aspect
of the Indian response – as a quid pro quo to the Chinese forays into IOR,
the Indian Navy has been operating in the South China Sea proving that
South China Sea is not the exclusive domain of China.

Engaging the Sea Dragon

While undoubtedly at the strategic level India is adopting an active response

strategy to counter China’s string of pearls containment efforts – at the
tactical level there have been many efforts by both navies to find a common
ground for engagement and cooperation. The newly coined ‘congagement’
(signifying an appropriate mix of both containment and engagement) seems
to be the way that both countries have been pursuing despite contrary
approaches in the strategic level and minor hiccups on the way
 Thus, when these two capable navies of the Asian region held joint
exercises in November 2003 – it was a path-breaking event with historic
significance. However, the innate desire to engage each other constructively
and cooperatively at sea was visible when the Chinese gave an enthusiastic
welcome to two Indian naval ships Delhi and Kora, during their port call to
Shanghai in September 2000. Though the Indian fleet was caught up in the
typhoon Sao Mai – on the occasion – the warmness of the Chinese Navy
more than made up for prevailing adverse weather conditions. To mark the
significance of the visit, the Chinese issued a special first-day cover stamp
on the occasion. The subsequent programme during the stay included basic
joint exercises by both navies. This set the tenor of numerous highlevel
subsequent visits between each other.
In November 2003, INS Ranjit, INS Kulish and INS Jyoti visited
Shanghai and held search and rescue (SAR) exercises with the PLA Navy
for the first time.31 While these exercises were basic in nature and did not
really require advanced tactical expertise but were important from the point
of view of implementation of the states’ foreign policy. On one hand these
exercises provided an overview of the ‘efficiency and ability’ of the each
other’s naval force in conduct of simple operations and on the other it helped
in increasing the ‘maritime bonding’ between the two seafaring nations of
Asia leading to enhanced cooperation.
In April 2005, Vice Chief of Naval Staff Vice Admiral Yashwant Prasad
visited China while in October 2005 while Rear Admiral Zhang Yongyi of
PLA Navy visited India.
Joint naval exercises were held when a PLA Navy Task Group,
comprising two naval ships – Shenzhen and Weishanhu – visited Kochi in
November 2005 and held SAR exercises with the Indian Navy. This time the
exercises were held in the Indian Ocean, marking China’s first joint naval
exercise with India outside its territorial waters.
These positive affirmative actions led to the signing of a Memorandum of
Understanding (MoU) on defence cooperation, which institutionalized
exchanges between the leaders and was signed during Indian Defence
Minister Pranab Mukherjee’s visit to China in May 2006. The MoU
established an annual defence dialogue; formalized joint military exercises
and training programmes in SAR, anti-piracy, counter-terrorism and so on. It
also called for study tours by senior and mid -level officials from the two
countries to enhance interaction and support a better understanding of the
foreign, defence and national priorities of each side.
The real benefits of the MoU however started materialising slowly. This
was in evidence when the Chinese Navy chief Admiral Wu Sheng Li visited
India in 2008 and in response the Indian Navy chief Admiral Sureesh Mehta
made the first visit by an Indian Navy chief to China (Qingdao) a year later
to participate in the 60th Anniversary celebrations of the PLA(N). An
International Fleet Review with 14 other navies was held to mark the event.
The Indian Navy participated at the event with the guided missile destroyers
INS Mumbai and INS Ranveer, the guided missile corvette INS Khanjar and
the tanker INS Jyoti at the event.
The Chinese training vessel Zheng He visited Kochi in May 2012 on a
good-will visit and the Indian warships Rana, Shivalik, Karmuk and fleet
tanker Shakti paid a five-day visit to Shanghai in June 2012. This was the
first Indian naval port call to China in six years and proved to be path
breaking in many ways. The sheer importance of this visit to Shanghai was
highlighted by the presence of the Indian Commander in Chief of the Eastern
Naval Command, VAdm Anil Chopra who flew in from Vizag to Shanghai
to be present with the Indian ships and participate in the associated events.
More significantly, the navies of India-China-Japan had undertaken
cooperative anti-piracy patrols in the Gulf of Aden after the trilateral
arrangement was launched in February 2012.32 These engagements with the
Chinese signified the a new cooperative approach not only from the side of
the Indian Navy but also that of the Chinese Navy which has in many ways
responded in somewhat similar measure.

Conclusion

Having realized the importance of maritime power in its achievement of

national objectives the Chinese PLA(N) no longer makes a secret of its
aspiration of becoming a Pacific naval power. The facade of being a
responsible ‘growing power’ and creating a harmonious environment with a
focus on development and peaceful coexistence seems to be eroding slowly.
Evidenced in their current aggressive posturing mainly in the South China
Sea the Chinese are adopting multi-pronged approaches and elements of
diplomacy for its forays into the developing world while at the same time
developing strong bridges with the Western world.
 As a consequence of the above the Chinese Navy, till recently a neglected
force, has now become exceedingly important and is undergoing rapid
transformation and modernization simultaneously. This modernization is not
only aimed at enhancing the inventory levels of the military but also its
mindset in a process that is termed as Defence Transformation with Chinese
characteristics.
There are many drivers to this modernization process but the financial
sustenance for this modernization comes from a growing defence budget.
With the PLA(N) becoming the focus of the PLA and ensnaring nearly 24
per cent of the overall budget currently the official Chinese defence budget
stands in excess of US$100 bn, more than three times that of the Indian one.
This difference is more noteworthy if viewed within the context of the
burgeoning indigenous defence manufacturing capacity of the Chinese.
With the Chinese projecting power and increasing its foot prints in the
IOR, Indians are increasingly alarmed of the encirclement strategy of string
of pearls. Indian responses at ‘casting the net wider’ has been adequate but
sluggish.
It is well known that there exists a near-negligible chance of ‘preventing’
the Chinese from becoming an influential entity in the IOR and increasing its
strategic footprint in a region which plays host to SLOCs that traverse to
China and has widely dispersed overseas energy assets in Africa belonging
to them. Thus at the tactical level there have been many efforts by both
navies to find a common ground for engagement and cooperation including
the proposed opening of hotlines between the armed forces headquarters of
the two countries. This has been evidenced by the numerous common
engagements between the two navies that need to be encouraged and
sustained.
The recent collaborative approach of the PLA(N) with the Indian Navy
and the Japanese MSDF towards conduct of piracy patrols off the Horn of
Africa has been significant in more ways than one. While some are inclined
to regard the effort as a demonstration of the new found self confidence of
the Chinese Navy which was known for its isolationistic behaviour – others
are dismissive of the entire efforts by terming it as a sense of prevailing déjà
vu in which it is essential to collaborate against the pirates given the vast sea
area and the type of operations.
Yet others project a more charitable appreciation in pointing out that the
Chinese have overcome the traditional mindset and adopted a cooperative
effort not only with the Indian Navy but most importantly with the Japanese
with whom they share an adversarial historical baggage and who are close
allies of the US. In the near future, the South Koreans, another close ally of
the US – are also likely to join in this collaborative anti piracy patrols. Thus
reiterating the fact that the Chinese navy is currently not only modernizing
by way of its inventory but also mentally and is more open to
engaging/cooperating – even with countries with whom they share an uneasy
relationship . After all, there is the old adage that says ‘the land divides
while sea unites’.
 1 See http://www.ndtv.com/article/world/china-president-tells-navy-to-prepare-for-military-
combat-156182?pfrom=home-otherstories&cp.
2 For a detailed treatment on the Chinese view of the CNP see P.K. Ghosh, ‘The Chinese Concept
of Comprehensive National Power: An Overview’ of Air Power’, Journal of Air Power and Space
Studies, 4(4) (Winter 2009): pp. 17-54.
3 Susan L. Craig, ‘Chinese Perceptions of Traditional and Non-Traditional Threats’, March 2007,
at http://www.strategicstudiesinstitute.army.mil/pdffiles/pub765.pdf
4 For a more detailed treatment see P.K. Ghosh ‘Can India Ignore Signs of Chinese
Assertiveness’, 3 September 2011 at
www.orfonline.com/cms/sites/orfonline/modules/analysis/AnalysisDetail.html?
cmaid=25555&mmacmaid=25556 and P.K. Ghosh ‘Growing Chinese assertiveness at Sea’, at
www.orfonline.com/cms/sites/orfonline/modules/analysis/AnalysisDetail.html?
cmaid=20360&mmacmaid=20361.
5 Ibid.
6 B. Raman ‘Chinese Navy’s Power Projection’, Paper 3780, 27 April 2010, South Asia Analysis
at www.southasiaanalysis.org/%5Cpapers38%5Cpaper3780.html.
7 C. Raja Mohan, ‘Sino Indian Naval Engagement’, ISAS Brief No. 103, 16 April 2009.
8 Military Balance 2009, International Institute of Strategic Studies, London, p. 385.
9 K.K. Agnihotri, ‘Strategic Direction of the PLAN: Capability and Intent Assessment’, Maritime
Affairs, 6(1): 76.
10 Ronald O’Rourke, ‘China Naval Modernization: Implications for US Navy Capabilities’,
Background and Issues for Congress, 1 October 2010, p. 5.
11 Kathrin Hille, ‘China’s First Aircraft Carrier Takes to the Sea’, The Financial Times, 8 October
2011, at www.ft.com/cms/s/0/6b20cdce-c300-11e0-8cc7-00144feabdc0.html/ and ‘China’s First
Aircraft Carrier Starts Sea Trials’, BBC News, 10 August 2011, at www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-
pacific-14470882.
12 Thomas Harding, ‘Concrete Evidence of China’s Naval Ambitions’, Daily Telegraph, 7
February 2011, at www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/china/8307646/Concrete-evidence-of-
Chinas-naval-ambitions.html.
13 Russell Hsiao, ‘PLAN Officers to Train on Brazilian Aircraft Carrier’, China Brief, 9(12), at
www.jamestown.org/single/?
no_cache=1&tx_ttnews%5Btt_news%5D=35116&tx_ttnews%5BbackPid%5D=13&cHash=f072084
889.
14 ‘Secret Sanya – China’s New Nuclear Naval Base Revealed’, 21 March 2008, at
www.janes.com/products/janes/defence-security-report.aspx?ID=1065927913.
15 See You Ji, ‘In Search of Blue Water Power: The PLA Navy’s Maritime Strategy in the 1990s’,
The Pacific Review, 2 (1991): 137-49. See also Tai Ming Cheung, ‘Growth of Chinese Naval Power’,
Strategic Papers, Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2 (1991).
16 Bai Kerning, ‘The future development of the PLA Navy’, Jianchuan Zhishi, 12 (1988): 2-4.
The PLAN has identified two island chains that figure prominently in the seaward defence of China.
The first chain begins in Japan, passes through the Liuqu Islands to Taiwan, and then to the
Philippines. The second island chain stretches from Japan’s Ogasawara-gunto Islands, through to the
Loretto Islands, and from there to the Mariana Islands. It is 200-300 nm eastward to the first.
17 Lu Rucun et al. (eds), The Contemporary Chinese Navy (Beijing: Zhongguo shehui kexue
chupanshe, 1987), p. 47.
 18 Yu Shouguo, ‘Some Thoughts on the Enhanced Effort to Build a Strategy Air Force’, The
Journal of PLA NDU, 1 (2004): 21.
19 General Zhen Wenhan (ed.), ‘On Building Standing Armed Forces’, Study on Standing Armed
Forces in the New Era (Beijing: PLA Academy of Military Science, 1990), ch. 3.
20 Li Jie, Hi-Tech and Contemporary Navy (Beijing: the PLA Academy of Military Science Press,
1994). Lu Xin, ‘The impact of IT on Services in Joint Operations’, Journal of the PLA NDU, 8
(2004): 32.
21 White paper on China’s National Defence in 2008, Section II, National Defence Policy.
22 U.S. Office of Naval Intelligence, ‘China’s Navy 2007’, pp. 23-24.
23 Sutirtho Patranobis, ‘China’s Defence Budget Crosses $100bn Mark’, Hindustan Times, 4
March 2012.
24 P.K. Ghosh, ‘The Maritime and Coastal Security’, in China’s Defence Policy: An Indian
Perspective, ed. Gurmeet Kanwal and Dhruv Katoch (Delhi: KW Publishers Pvt Ltd, 2011), p. 127.
25 Agnihotri, ‘Strategic Direction of the PLAN: Capability and Intent Assessment’, p. 81.
26 Ibid., p. 90.
27 The first MoU was with respect to exchange of defence personnel for education training and so
on. The second MoU was signed by the Chief Controller of DRDO for cooperation on defence
technology. Both were signed in September 2010.
28 ONGC Videsh Ltd. (OVL) had signed the Production Sharing Contracts with Vietnam Oil and
Gas Corporation (‘PetroVietnam’) for Blocks 127 and 128, offshore Vietnam in the Phu Khanh
Basin. This exploration was opposed by the Chinese as they considered the area under Vietnamese
EEZ under dispute. Blocks 127 and 128 lie alongside the eastern coastline of Vietnam, northeast of
Ho Chi Minh City.
29 On 22 July, INS Airavat sailed from Nha Trang port in south-central Vietnam towards
Haiphong, where it was to make a friendly visit. About 45 nautical miles off the Vietnamese coast on
the South China Sea, the Airavat was ‘buzzed’ on an open radio channel by the Chinese navy. See
Indrani Baghchi, ‘China Harasses Indian Naval Ship on South China Sea’, 2 September 2011, at
http://articles.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/2011-09-02/india/30105514_1_south-china-sea-spratly-
ins-airavat.
30 Construction of the deep-sea harbour commenced on 15 January 2008 by China Harbour
Engineering Company and Sinohydro Corporation The cost of the first phase is around $360 million
with a budget of $76.5 million for the bunker terminal. The planned second phase will include a
container terminal and is expected to be completed by 2014.
31 ‘India, China to Hold Naval Exercises’, 13 April 2007, at
www.rediff.com/news/2007/apr/13navy.htm.
32 Ananth Krishnan “Chinese Navy calls for Trust Building with India” The Hindu, 15 June 2012
also available at http://www.thehindu.com/news/international/article3529270. ece. Also see “Indian
Navy Ships arrive for 5 day visit” 14 Jun 2012 at http://www.china.org.cn/video/2012-
06/14/content_25645043.htm
 Chapter 7
India in the Indian Ocean: A Mismatch Between
Ambitions and Capabilities?
Harsh V. Pant

In February 2008, India hosted naval chiefs from around the Indian Ocean
in what was named the Indian Ocean Naval Symposium, highlighting the
role of the Indian Navy as an important instrument of the nation’s foreign
and security policy. It was also an attempt by India to promote a multilateral
approach in the management of the security of the Indian Ocean. India
signalled that as a rising power it is willing to fulfil its maritime
responsibilities in the region but unlike in the past when India had been
suspicious of what it saw as ‘extra-regional navies’ it is now ready to
cooperate with other navies in and around the Indian Ocean. Whether
India’s leadership will be enough to promote genuine maritime
multilateralism in the region, however, remains to be seen.
The Indian Ocean has long been the hub of great power rivalry and the
struggle for its domination has been a perennial feature of global politics. It
is third-largest of the world’s five oceans and straddles Asia in the north,
Africa in the west, Indochina in the east, and Antarctica in the south. Home
to four critical access waterways – the Suez Canal, Bab-el Mandeb, the
Strait of Hormuz, and the Strait of Malacca – the Indian Ocean connects the
Middle East, Africa and East Asia with Europe and the Americas.1 Given its
crucial geographical role, major powers have long vied with each other for
its control though it was only in the nineteenth century that Great Britain
was able to enjoy an overwhelming dominance in the region. With the
decline in Britain’s relative power and the emergence of two superpowers
during the Cold War, the Indian Ocean region became another arena where
the US and the former Soviet Union struggled to expand their power and
influence. The US, however, has remained the most significant player in the
region for the last several years.
 Given the rise of major economic powers in the Asia-Pacific that rely on
energy imports to sustain their economic growth, the Indian Ocean region
has assumed a new importance as various powers are once again vying for
the control of the waves in this part of the world. Nearly half of the world’s
seaborne trade is through the Indian Ocean and approximately 20 per cent
of this trade consists of energy resources. It has also been estimated that
around 40 per cent of the world’s offshore oil production comes from the
Indian Ocean, while 65 per cent of the world’s oil and 35 per cent of its gas
reserves are found in the littoral states of this Ocean.2 Unlike the Pacific and
Atlantic Oceans, almost three-quarters of trade traversing through the
Indian Ocean, primarily in the form of oil and gas, belongs to states external
to the region. Free and uninterrupted flow of oil and goods through the
ocean’s SLOCs is deemed vital for the global economy and so all major
states have a stake in a stable Indian Ocean region. It is for this reason that
during the Cold War years when US–Soviet rivalry was at its height, the
states bordering the Indian Ocean sought to declare the region a ‘zone of
peace’ to allow for free trade and commerce across the lanes of the Indian
Ocean. Today, the reliance is on the US for the provision of a ‘collective
good’: a stable Indian Ocean region. At a time when it is being argued that
the Indian Ocean region ‘will demographically and strategically be a hub of
the twenty-first century world’ and ‘may comprise a map as iconic to the
new century as Europe was the last one’,3 India is trying to emerge as a
crucial player in the region.
This chapter examines the emerging Indian approach towards the Indian
Ocean in the context of India’s rise as a major regional and global actor. It
argues that though India has historically viewed the Indian Ocean region as
one in which it would like to establish its own predominance, its limited
material capabilities have constrained its options. With the expansion,
however, of India’s economic and military capabilities, Indian ambitions
vis-à-vis this region are soaring once again. India is also trying its best to
respond to the challenge that growing Chinese capabilities in the Indian
Ocean are posing to the region and beyond. Yet, preponderance in the
Indian Ocean region, though much desired by the Indian strategic elites,
remains an unrealistic aspiration for India given the significant stakes that
other major powers have in the region. In all likelihood, India will look
towards cooperation with other major powers in the Indian Ocean region to
preserve and enhance its strategic interests.
The Indian Ocean: India’s Backyard?

As India’s global economic and political profile has risen in recent years, it
has also, not surprisingly, tried to define its strategic interests in
increasingly expansive terms. Like other globalizing economies, India’s
economic growth is heavily reliant on the free flow of goods through the
Indian Ocean SLOCs, especially as around 90 per cent of India’s trade is
reliant on merchant shipping. Given India’s growing reliance on imported
sources of energy, any disruption in the Indian Ocean can have a potentially
catastrophic impact for Indian economic and societal stability. India’s
Exclusive Economic Zone in the Indian Ocean, that according to the Law of
the Seas runs 200 nautical miles contiguous to its coastline and its islands,
covers around 30 per cent of the resource abundant Indian Ocean region.4
Any disruption in shipping across the important trade routes in the
Indian Ocean, especially those passing through the ‘choke points’ in the
Strait of Hormuz, the Gulf of Aden, the Suez Canal and the Strait of
Malacca can lead to serious consequences for not only Indian but global
economic prospects. Unhindered trade and shipping traffic flow is a sine
qua non for the implementation of India’s developmental process. Non-
traditional threats in the form of organized crime, piracy and transnational
terrorist networks also make it imperative for India to exert its control in the
region.
Indian strategic thinkers have historically viewed the Indian Ocean as
India’s backyard and so have emphasized the need for India to play a
greater role in underwriting its security and stability. India’s strategic elites
have often drawn inspiration from a quote attributed to Alfred Mahan:
‘Whoever controls the Indian Ocean dominates Asia. The ocean is the key
to seven seas. In the twenty-first century, the destiny of the world will be
decided on its waters’. This quote, though apparently fictitious, has been
highly influential in shaping the way Indian naval thinkers have looked at
the role of the Indian Ocean for Indian security.5
But it has only been since the late 1990s that India has started to reassert
itself in the Indian Ocean and beyond. This has been driven by various
factors – the high rates of economic growth that India has enjoyed since
early 1990s have allowed the country to invest greater resources in naval
expansion; the growing threat from non-state actors that has forced India to
adopt a more pro-active naval posture; and, a growing realization that China
is rapidly expanding its influence in the Indian Ocean region, something
that many in the Indian strategic community feel would be detrimental to
Indian interests in the long term. India has a pivotal position in the Indian
Ocean as unlike other nations in the region with blue-water capabilities
such as Australia and South Africa, India is at the centre and dominates the
sea lanes of communication across the ocean in both directions. No nation
in the world geographically dominates an ocean the way India dominates
the Indian Ocean. This gives India two decisive elements of maritime
power – geographical position and physical configuration.6 As Pannikar
stated more than six decades back: ‘to other countries the Indian Ocean
could only be one of the important oceanic areas, but to India it was a vital
sea because its lifelines are concentrated in that area, its freedom is
dependent on the freedom of the coastal surface’. There are now signs that
India is making a concerted attempt to enhance its capabilities to back up its
aspiration to play an enhanced naval role in the Indian Ocean.

Expanding Resource Base

Sustained rates of high economic growth over the last decade have given
India greater resources to devote to its defence requirements. In the initial
years after Independence in 1947, India’s defence expenditure as a
percentage of the GDP hovered around 1.8 per cent. This changed with the
1962 war with China in which India suffered a humiliating defeat due to its
lack of defence preparedness and Indian defence expenditure came to
stabilize around 3 per cent of the GDP for the next 25 years.7 Over the past
two decades, the military expenditure of India has been around 2.75 per
cent but since India has been experiencing significantly higher rates of
economic growth over the last decade compared to any other time in its
history, the overall resources that it has been able to allocate to its defence
needs have grown significantly. The armed forces for long have been asking
for an allocation of 3 per cent of the nation’s GDP to defence. This has
received broad political support in recent years. The Indian Prime Minister
has been explicit about it, suggesting that ‘if our economy grows at about 8
per cent per annum, it will not be difficult for [the Indian government] to
allocate about 3 per cent of GDP for national defence’.8 The Indian
Parliament has also underlined the need to aim for the target of 3 per cent of
the GDP. India, with the world’s fourth-largest military and one of the
biggest defence budgets, has been pursuing a major defence modernization
programme for more than a decade now that has seen billions of dollars
spent on the latest military technology.
As for the share of the three services, during the 10-year period 1996–97
and 2005–2006, the average share of the expenditure on the Army, Navy,
and Air Force was 57 per cent, 15 per cent and 24 per cent respectively.
Though the Navy’s share is the smallest, it has been gradually increasing
over the years whereas the share of other services has witnessed great
fluctuations. Of the total budgetary allocation for defence of $34 billion in
2011–12, the Indian Army has been granted $14.2 billion, Indian Navy
$2.35 billion, Indian Air Force (IAF) $3.53 billion and state-owned Defence
Research and Development Organization (DRDO) $1.25 billion. Out of the
$15.38 billion capital outlay, the Army got $4.21 billion, Navy $1.26
billion, Naval Fleet $1.62 billion and Air Force $6.82 billion.9 In the overall
defence expenditure for the services, the ratio of revenue to capital
expenditure is most significant in assessing how the services are utilizing
their allocated resources. Capital expenditure is the element that is directed
towards building future capabilities. While the ratio of revenue to capital
expenditure has been around 70:30 for the defence forces as a whole, there
is huge variation among the services with the ratio of Navy being 48:52. Of
the three services, it is the only one that is investing in future capabilities to
a greater extent than current expenditure.10 Capital expenditure determines
the trend of modernization and with 52 per cent of its allocation going
toward capital expenditure, the Indian Navy is ahead of the other two
services in its endeavour to modernize its operations. Three key acquisitions
by the Indian Navy – long-range aircraft, aircraft carriers and nuclear
submarines – are intended to make India a formidable force in the Indian
Ocean. While India’s global aspirations are clearly visible in the
modernization activities of the Indian Navy, non-conventional threats to
Indian and global security have also risen in recent times, which might
result in a change of priorities for the defence forces.

Growing Threats from Non-State Actors

Non-traditional threats to global security have grown exponentially and
maritime terrorism, gun-running, drug trafficking and piracy are the major
threats that India is facing from the sea-borders of the country. With vital
shipping lanes passing through the area, India has been emphasizing the
importance of maritime security in the Persian Gulf and the Gulf of Aden.
Various terrorist organizations from Al Qaeda to Jammah Islamiah use
maritime routes around India in the Indian Ocean region for narcotics and
arms-trafficking through which they finance their operations. Indian
intelligence agencies have warned the government that India might face
seaborne attacks by terrorist groups against nation’s oil rigs, involving both
production and support platforms, along both the coasts of India.11 Piracy in
various parts of the Indian Ocean such as the Malacca Straits and Horn of
Africa is rampant, requiring a strong Indian maritime presence. In line with
this perception, the Indian maritime doctrine states: ‘The Indian maritime
vision for the twenty-first century must look at the arc from the Persian
Gulf to the Straits of Malacca, as a legitimate area of interest’.12
Piracy off the coast of Somalia has increased in the last few years with
the warlords investing in mercenaries to take over ships and crew on the
high seas and holding them to ransom. Somalia has not had a functioning
national government since 1991 and has suffered continuing chaos and rule
by small factions. Warlords in Somalia hire fisherman for piracy, claiming
huge sums of money in ransom from hijacked shipping boats from around
the world. This money is then used by warlords to buy more sophisticated
weapons to fight for the control of Somalia. Most of the attacks and
hijackings on the high seas are clustered in three areas: the Gulf of Aden
and the eastern coast of Somalia; the coast of West Africa, particularly off
Nigeria; and the Indonesian archipelago.
Following the hijacking off the coast of Somalia in September 2008 of
the merchant vessel MT Stolt Valor owned by a Japanese company with 18
Indian crew members on board, the Indian government authorized the
Indian Navy to begin patrols in the Gulf of Aden and escort Indian
merchant vessels. India has an economic interest in ensuring the protection
of even non-Indian owned cargo ships in the Gulf of Aden shipping lanes as
around 85 per cent of India’s sea trade on the route is carried by foreign-
owned ships while around a third of India’s total fleet of 900 cargo ships
deployed in international waters are at risk.13 Patrolling by the Indian Navy
is intended to protect the nation’s seaborne trade and instil confidence in the
seafaring community as well as functioning to deter pirates. Russia, NATO
and the EU forces have also started patrolling the region but efforts remain
disjointed. India has made a case that a peacekeeping force under a unified
command is needed to provide security to international shipping in pirate-
infested regions.14 In a first operation of its kind since the 1971 war with
Pakistan, India’s stealth frigate, INS Tabar, shot at and sank a pirate
‘mother vessel’ in the Gulf of Aden which later turned out to be a Thai
trawler. Since the trawler was under the command of the pirates who
refused to surrender, the Indian naval vessel fired in self-defence. This
incident once again highlighted the Indian Navy’s capability on the high
seas, witnessed earlier by the world in the conduct of tsunami relief
operations and during the evacuation of Indian nationals in the Lebanon
War of July August 2006. Moreover, the Indian Navy asserted its autonomy
and ability in the service of a collective good – the protection of global
maritime trade. India used this act of its Navy to project India as a country
capable of protecting its maritime interests and commercial sea routes in
international waters.
While on the one hand the Indian Navy demonstrated its might on the
high seas, on the other, its ability to tackle terrorism on the homeland has
come under scrutiny after terrorists managed to hoodwink the Indian Navy
and Coast Guard to launch a severe assault on Mumbai in November 2008.
The terrorists managed to enter Mumbai by using a trawler, indicating a
systemic failure of the Indian security agencies. It is the responsibility of
India’s Coast Guard to secure India’s Exclusive Economic Zone, up to 200
nautical miles whereas the blue water beyond is the Navy’s responsibility.
Though dangers of terror attacks from the sea have long been apparent to
Indian policy-makers, no action was taken to strengthen the anti-terror
defences. India’s long coastline with its inadequate policing makes it easy
to land arms and explosives at isolated spots along the coast. This was how
explosives were smuggled into India in 1993 for the bomb blasts that
crippled the Indian financial capital. The same method was used again by
the terrorists to attack Mumbai in 2008. The Indian naval chief took
responsibility for inaction and underlined weak infrastructure for patrolling
and surveillance of coastal areas. Despite clear intelligence inputs the Coast
Guard and the Navy failed to either spot or interdict the Pakistani ship that
carried terrorists from an Indus creek near Karachi in Pakistan.15
 It is clear that global threats from non-state actors are multiplying. India
will have to work with other major naval powers not only to tackle
problems such as piracy but also deal with the larger issues of security for
sea-going commerce. Because the Navy has proven itself adept at giving
the Indian government sufficient leverage in operational situations in the
Indian Ocean, its utility for India in projecting power and protecting its
interests is only going to increase. Yet the biggest challenge to the Indian
Navy might come from the expansion of the prowess of that other Asian
giant in the Indian Ocean: China.

China’s Foray in the Indian Ocean

With a rise in China’s economic and political prowess, there has also been a
commensurate growth in its profile in the Indian Ocean region. China is
acquiring naval bases along the crucial choke points in the Indian Ocean not
only to serve its economic interests but also to enhance its strategic
presence in the region. China realizes that its maritime strength will give it
the strategic leverage that it needs to emerge as the regional hegemon and a
potential superpower and there is enough evidence to suggest that China is
comprehensively building up its maritime power in all dimensions.16 It is
China’s growing dependence on maritime space and resources that is
reflected in the Chinese aspiration to expand its influence and to ultimately
dominate the strategic environment of the Indian Ocean region. China’s
growing reliance on bases across the Indian Ocean region is a response to
its perceived vulnerability, given the logistical constraints that it faces due
to the distance of the Indian Ocean waters from its own area of operation.
Yet, China is consolidating power over the South China Sea and the Indian
Ocean with an eye on India, something that comes out clearly in a secret
memorandum issued by the Director of the General Logistic Department of
the PLA: ‘We can no longer accept the Indian Ocean as only an ocean of
the Indians … We are taking armed conflicts in the region into account’.17
And China was quick to express its displeasure when the 2010 Quadrennial
Defense Review published by the U.S. Department of Defense described
India ‘as a net provider of regional security’.
China has deployed its Jin class submarines at a submarine base near
Sanya in the southern tip of Hainan Island in South China Sea, raising
alarm in India as the base is merely 1,200 nautical miles from the Malacca
Strait and will be its closest access point to the Indian Ocean. The base also
has an underground facility that can hide the movement of submarines,
making them difficult to detect.18 The concentration of strategic naval forces
at Sanya will further propel China towards a consolidation of its control
over the surrounding Indian Ocean region. The presence of access tunnels
on the mouth of the deep water base is particularly troubling for India as it
will have strategic implications in the Indian Ocean region, allowing China
to interdict shipping at the three crucial choke points in the Indian Ocean.
As the ability of China’s navy to project power in the Indian Ocean region
grows, India is likely to feel even more vulnerable despite enjoying distinct
geographical advantages in the region. China’s growing naval presence in
and around the Indian Ocean region is troubling for India as it restricts
India’s freedom to manoeuvre in the region. Of particular note is what has
been termed as China’s ‘string of pearls’ strategy that has significantly
expanded China’s strategic depth in India’s backyard.19
This ‘string of pearls’ strategy of bases and diplomatic ties include the
Gwadar port in Pakistan, naval bases in Burma, electronic intelligence
gathering facilities on islands in the Bay of Bengal, funding construction of
a canal across the Kra Isthmus in Thailand, a military agreement with
Cambodia and building up of forces in the South China Sea.20 Some of
these claims are exaggerated as has been the case with the Chinese naval
presence in Burma. The Indian government, for example, had to concede in
2005 that reports of China turning Coco Islands in Burma into a naval base
were incorrect and that there were indeed no naval bases in Burma.21 Yet the
Chinese thrust into the Indian Ocean is gradually becoming more
pronounced than before. The Chinese may not have a naval base in Burma
but they are involved in the upgrading of infrastructure in the Coco Islands
and may be providing some limited technical assistance to Burma. Given
that almost 80 per cent of China’s oil passes through the Strait of Malacca,
it is reluctant to rely on US naval power for unhindered access to energy
and so has decided to build up its naval power at ‘choke points’ along the
sea routes from the Persian Gulf to the South China Sea. China is also
courting other states in South Asia by building container ports in
Bangladesh at Chittagong and in Sri Lanka at Hambantota. Consolidating
its access to the Indian Ocean, China has signed an agreement with Sri
Lanka to finance the development of the Hambantota Development Zone
which includes a container port, a bunker system and an oil refinery. It is
possible that the construction of these ports and facilities around India’s
periphery by China can be explained away on purely economic and
commercial grounds but for India this looks like a policy of containment by
other means.
China’s diplomatic and military efforts in the Indian Ocean seem to
exhibit a desire to project power vis-à-vis competing powers in the region
such as the US and India. China’s presence in the Bay of Bengal via roads
and ports in Burma and in the Arabian Sea via the Chinese built port of
Gwadar in Pakistan has been a cause of concern for India. With access to
crucial port facilities in Egypt, Iran and Pakistan, China is well-poised to
secure its interests in the region. China’s involvement in the construction of
the deep-sea port of Gwadar has attracted a lot of attention due to its
strategic location, about 70 kilometres from the Iranian border and 400
kilometres east of the Strait of Hormuz, a major oil supply route. It has been
suggested that it will provide China with a ‘listening post’ from where it
can ‘monitor US naval activity in the Persian Gulf, Indian activity in the
Arabian Sea, and future US-Indian maritime cooperation in the Indian
Ocean’.22 Though Pakistan’s naval capabilities do not, on their own, pose
any challenge to India, the combinations of Chinese and Pakistani naval
forces can indeed be formidable for India to counter.
Yet, the notion that China aspires to naval domination of Indian Ocean
remains a bit far-fetched. China would certainly like to play a greater role in
the region, protect and advance its interests, especially Chinese commerce,
as well as counter India. But given the immense geographical advantages
that Indian enjoys in the Indian Ocean, China will have great difficulty in
exerting as much sway in the Indian Ocean as India can. But all the steps
that China is taking to protect and enhance its interests in the Indian Ocean
region are generating apprehensions in Indian strategic circles about her
real intentions, thereby engendering a classic security dilemma between the
two Asian giants. And it is India’s fears and perceptions of the growing
naval prowess of China in the Indian Ocean that is driving Indian naval
posture. Tensions are inherent in such an evolving strategic relationship as
was underlined in an incident in January 2009 when an Indian Kilo class
submarine and Chinese warships, on their way to the Gulf of Aden to patrol
the pirate-infested waters, reportedly engaged in rounds of manoeuvring as
they tried to test for weaknesses in others’ sonar system. The Chinese media
reported that its warships forced the Indian submarine to the surface which
was strongly denied by the Indian Navy.23 Unless managed carefully, the
potential for such incidents turning serious in the future remains high,
especially as Sino-Indian naval competition is likely to intensify with the
Indian and Chinese navies operating far from their shores.

India Responds to the Chinese Challenge

The augmentation of China’s capabilities in the Indian Ocean has alarmed

India and has galvanized it into taking ameliorative measures. Underscoring
India’s discomfort with China’s ‘string of pearls’ strategy, a former Indian
naval chief has argued that ‘each pearl in the string is a link in a chain of the
Chinese maritime presence’ and has expressed concern that naval forces
operating out of ports established by the Chinese could ‘take control over
the world energy jugular’.24 India views Chinese naval strategy as
expansionist and intent on encircling India strategically. The current Indian
naval strategy is being driven by the idea ‘that the vast Indian Ocean is its
mare nostrum … that the entire triangle of the Indian Ocean is their nation’s
rightful and exclusive sphere of interest’.25 Just as the PLA Navy seems to
be concentrating on anti-access warfare so as to prevent the US Navy from
entering into a cross-Straits conflict, the Indian Navy is also working
towards acquiring the ability to deny China access through the Indian
Ocean.26 While the Indian Maritime Doctrine of 2004 underlined ‘attempts
by China to strategically encircle India’, the Indian Maritime Strategy
released three years later emphasized attempts by the Chinese navy to
emerge as a blue-water force by pursuing an ambitious modernization
programme, ‘along with attempts to gain a strategic toe-hold in the Indian
Ocean Rim’.27
India’s projection of naval power into the Indian Ocean and beyond is an
outcome of India’s increasingly outward looking foreign policy posture in
line with its growing economic prowess. Through joint exercises, port visits
and disaster relief missions, the Indian Navy has dramatically raised its
profile in the Indian Ocean region in the last few years. India’s rapid
response to the December 2004 tsunami was the largest ever relief
mobilization by its naval forces and underlined India’s growing role in the
Indian Ocean as well as its ability to be a net provider of security in the
region. India was one of the few nations affected by the tragedy that was
able to respond relatively effectively and also lend a helping hand to
neighbouring countries by sending its naval ships and personnel. The Indian
Navy also demonstrated its rapid response capability when it evacuated a
large number of Indians and other nationals from Lebanon during the 2006
Israel-Lebanon conflict.

Diplomatic Initiatives

India is using its naval forces to advance its diplomatic initiatives overseas
and in particular towards shaping the strategic environment in and around
the Indian Ocean. Indian interests converge with those of the US in the
Indian Ocean region and it is trying to use the present upswing in US-India
ties to create a more favourable strategic environment for itself in the region
despite its historical sensitivities to the presence of US forces in the Indian
Ocean.28 The US has also recognized the importance of India’s role in the
region as was evident in Colin Powell’s contention that it was important for
the US to support India’s role in maintaining peace and stability in the
Indian Ocean and its vast periphery.29 In its first maritime service strategy
update in 25 years, the US views its sea power as the primary instrument in
the US defence arsenal to deter conflict with China, and cooperation with
other countries’ naval services, including India’s, is recognized as crucial to
fulfilling the strategic imperatives in the region.30 The US and Indian navies
have stepped up their joint exercises and the US has sold India the USS
Trenton (renamed INS Jalashwa), the first of its class to be inducted into
the Indian Navy and marking a milestone in the US–India bilateral ties. The
US would like India to join its Container Security Initiative (CSI) and
Proliferation Security Initiative (PSI) but India remains reluctant. PSI is
viewed as a US-led initiative outside the United Nations mandate while the
CSI would result in the presence of US inspectors in Indian ports, making it
politically radioactive. However, India has indicated that it would be willing
to join the US-proposed 1,000-ship navy effort to combat illegal activities
on the high seas, given the informal nature of the arrangement.31 India is
seen a balancer in the Asia-Pacific where the US’ influence has waned
relatively even as China’s has risen. India’s ties with Japan have also
assumed a new dynamic with some even mooting a ‘concert of
democracies’ proposal involving the democratic states of the Asia-Pacific
working towards their common goals of a stable Asia-Pacific region.32
While such a proposal has little chance of evolving into anything concrete
in the near term, especially given China’s sensitivities, India’s decision to
develop natural gas with Japan in the Andaman Sea and recent military
exercises involving US, Japan, India and Australia does give a sense of
India’s emerging priorities.33
India’s decision to establish its Far Eastern Command in the Andaman
and Nicobar Islands in the Bay of Bengal is aimed at countering China’s
growing presence in the region by complicating China’s access to the region
through the Strait of Malacca, the main bottleneck of oil transit to China.
India has launched Project Seabird, consisting of India’s third operational
naval base in Karwar on the nation’s western seaboard, an Air Force station,
a naval armament depot, and missile silos, aimed at securing the nation’s
maritime routes in the Arabian Sea.34 India has also established a
monitoring station in Madagascar, its first in another country, as it is
deemed vital to guard against the terrorist threat emanating from East
Africa as well as to keep an eye on China’s plan in the region. India also has
its eyes on Mauritius for developing a monitoring facility at an atoll and has
strengthened its naval contacts with Mozambique and Seychelles. India
responded to the Chinese President Hu Jintao’s offer of military assistance
to Seychelles by donating one of its patrol aircraft to the Seychelles Navy.
India’s support in the building of Chahbahar port in Iran as well as the road
connecting it to Afghanistan is an answer to the Chinese-funded Gwadar
port in Pakistan. India’s air base in Kazakhstan and its space monitoring
post in Mongolia are also geared primarily towards China. The anti-piracy
patrols by Indian warships off East African coast, installation of radars on
26 atolls in Maldives and connecting them to the Indian Navy’s own
network, proposed upgrade of the amphibious brigade in Andaman and
Nicobar Islands to division strength, creation of two naval hubs on the
Arabian Sea and Bay of Bengal respectively are all aimed at strengthening
Indian position in the Indian Ocean region.
Competition between China and India is also increasing for influence in
Burma as the Andaman Sea off Burma’s coast is viewed as crucial energy
lifeline for China while India also needs Burma for meeting its energy
requirements. India will be rebuilding Burma’s western Sittwe port and is
one of the main suppliers of military hardware to the ruling junta. China’s
growing penetration of Burma is one of the main reasons India has been
reluctant to cease its economic and military engagement with the Burmese
junta despite attracting widespread criticism from both outside and within
India. Burma has sought greater Indian investment in Burma’s energy sector
even as the two nations expand cooperation in oil and gas exploration, open
border trade, and speed up construction of natural gas pipelines. India,
which is investing in the Kaladan multimodal transport system, connecting
India’s eastern seaboard to its north-eastern states through Myanmar, further
offered $500 million in credits for infrastructure projects.
India’s ‘Look East’ policy, originally aimed at strengthening economic
ties with India’s South-East Asian neighbourhood, has now led to naval
exercises with Singapore, Thailand and Indonesia. The ASEAN member
states have joined the Indian Navy in policing the Indian Ocean region to
check piracy, trafficking and other threats to sea lanes. Naval cooperation
between Vietnam and India is gaining momentum with Vietnam giving
India the right to use its port in the south, Nha Trang, situated close to the
strategically significant Cam Ranh Bay. The two nations have high stakes in
ensuring sea-lane security, as well as shared concerns about Chinese access
to the Indian Ocean and the South China Sea.35
India has also accelerated its naval engagement with a number of Persian
Gulf states, making port calls and conducting exercises with the navies of
Kuwait, Oman, Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, United Arab Emirates and
Djibouti as well as engaging with the navies of other major powers in the
region such as the US, the UK and France. It has also been suggested that to
more effectively counter Chinese presence in the Indian Ocean and to
protect its trade routes, India will have to seek access to the Vietnamese,
Taiwanese and Japanese ports for the forward deployment of its naval
assets.36 India is already emerging as an exclusive ‘defence service
provider’ for smaller states with growing economies that seek to strengthen
their military capabilities in South-East Asia and West Asia, such as
Vietnam, Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, Qatar and Oman, providing it
access to ports along the Arabian coast, Indian Ocean, and South China
Sea.37

Naval Platforms and Doctrine

The Indian Navy is aiming for a total fleet of 140–45 vessels over the next
decade, built around two carrier battle groups: Admiral Gorshkov which
will now be handed over to India only by 2013 and the indigenous carrier,
the 37,500-tonne STOBAR Air Defence Ship likely to be completed by
2014. India’s ambition to equip its Navy with two or more aircraft carriers
over the next decade as well as its decision to launch its first indigenous
nuclear submarine in 2009 is seen as crucial for power projection and to
achieve a semblance of strategic autonomy. India’s emerging capability to
put a carrier task force as far as the South China Sea and the Persian Gulf
has given boost to Indian Navy’s blue-water aspirations and India hopes to
induct a third aircraft carrier by 2017, ensuring that the Indian Navy has
two operational carriers at any given point.38 India has been augmenting its
surface warfare strength with the introduction of the Talwar Class of
frigates and Kolkata Class of destroyers and has stepped up efforts to
complete its Carrier Battle Group plan at the earliest which comprises an
aircraft carrier, guided missile destroyers and cruisers, submarines, frigates
for anti-submarine warfare and oil tankers.
The Indian Navy has taken command from Russia of the nation’s first
nuclear-powered submarine since India’s last such vessel was
decommissioned in 1991. With the commissioning of the Russian Akula II
class submarine ‘K-152’ Nerpa – now known as INS Chakra – India has
become the world’s sixth nation to operate a nuclear-powered submarine.
The $900 million contract for INS Chakra was signed in a rather secretive
manner in 2004 and the vessel was due to be handed over to India in 2009,
but the project has been beset with problems. It took a few mistrials, a
major accident in 2008 and a lot of diplomatic back and forth before New
Delhi could take control of the 8,140-ton submarine from Russia on a 10-
year lease in 2012. What INS Chakra will do is to restore some muscle to
India’s underwater combat capability, which has been steadily depleting
with only 14 conventional submarines holding forth. The Indian Navy has
also lost critical expertise in maintaining and operating nuclear submarines
and INS Chakra is expected to be used for training sailors as well. India had
leased a Russian Charlie class nuclear submarine from the former Soviet
Union in 1988 for three years. It was given to India with a condition that it
should not be used in war. Since its decommissioning in 1991, India has
found it difficult to build on and expand its nuclear submarine expertise.
The Indian Navy, therefore, hopes that INS Chakra will help its personnel
by providing them with expertise in handling such vessels as well as putting
in place an infrastructure for future development. Indian naval planners are
looking at nuclear attack submarines as an important element of their
‘denial strategy’ (aiming to deny opponents’ ability to use the sea, but
without seeking to control it themselves), and as a response to adversary’s
‘sea control’ strategy. Not only does a nuclear submarine enhance India’s
credibility as a major global military power, it is also seen as crucial in
cementing Indian Navy’s blue-water status.
The deployment of the Jin class submarine at Hainan by China has
forced India to speed up its indigenous nuclear submarine project that has
been in the making for more than a decade now with the Indian Navy, rather
ambitiously, aiming at the induction of five indigenous ATV (Advanced
Technology Vehicle) nuclear submarines. A submarine-based nuclear
arsenal is considered critical by Indian strategists to retain a second-strike
capability. The Indian Navy at present has about 18 submarines and most of
them are on their last legs. In addition to six French-designed submarines
being constructed in Mumbai, the Indian Navy plans to acquire six more in
the coming years.39 Despite some attempts at diversification of sources,
India’s dependence on Russia for military equipment remains acute and has
resulted in bilateral tension in recent times. The Indian military, in
particular, has been critical of an over-reliance on Russia for defence
acquisition which was reflected in the Indian naval chief’s view that there
should be re-think on India’s ties with Russia in the light of the Russian
demand of an additional $1.2 billion for the aircraft carrier, Admiral
Gorshkov, purchased by India in 2004.40 The Indian Navy is now actively
looking to other states, particularly the US, for its new acquisitions.
While a focus on augmenting its platforms, systems and weapons is
clearly visible in the Indian Navy, concomitant changes in doctrine and
organization have been relatively slow to come by.41 It was only in 2004
that India released its first maritime doctrine since Independence. The
determination to establish its predominance in the Indian Ocean region
comes across quite categorically in the Indian maritime doctrine. The
maritime doctrine underlines four roles for the Indian Navy:
military/strategic, political, constabulary and benign agent of humanitarian
assistance. The doctrine emphasizes the shift for the Indian Navy from
conventional combat to include non-traditional threats and underscores the
role of the Indian Navy in nation’s trade and energy policies. The doctrine
calls for exercising sea control in the designated area of the Arabian Sea
and the Bay of Bengal and urges the Navy to contribute towards
strengthening India’s credible minimum nuclear deterrent in the form of
nuclear submarines equipped with nuclear missiles. The doctrine, however,
is a very ambitious document for a service that has always complained
about lack of resources and it does not seem to offer a clear vision for the
future. The challenge for the Indian Navy in the coming years will be to
synergize its doctrine effectively with force planning and acquisitions.
Organizational changes have been even less visible. It has become
imperative for the three services to cooperate more closely if the desired
effects are to be achieved in contemporary warfare. ‘Jointery’ or ‘jointness’
is the new buzzword and the distinctions between sea, land and air are
becoming increasingly redundant for the conduct of expeditionary
operations. Integration is essential not only for operational effectiveness but
is also a force multiplier and a measure of efficiency. And in this era of
‘jointness’, of all the major armed forces in the world, India is probably the
only one not fully integrated. India has taken some baby steps towards
jointery though inter-services rivalry continues to plague Indian defence
forces. The Indian Army continues to insist that it should be seen as the
most important element while the Navy and Air Force continue to resent
and resist the domination of the Army. The result is that while an Integrated
Defence Staff has been set up, the move towards a Chief of Defence Staff
has come to naught as the inter-services bickering gives the government an
excuse to drag its feet on this issue essential for streamlining decision-
making on defence issues. Lack of cooperation among the three services
also leads to duplication of purchases, hindering efficient utilization of
precious resources. Yet, the acquisition and procurement processes continue
to remain extremely complex and opaque. India’s much-hyped defence
modernization programme is suffering because of delays in the procurement
of major weapon systems.

Conclusion

With its rise as a major power in the region, India has been forced to shed
some of the reticence that has characterized the conduct of its foreign policy
in the post-Independence period, and the country has been called upon to
provide security in its neighbourhood, including the Indian Ocean region.
Given India’s geographical coordinates, it will always have a pivotal role in
the Indian Ocean and its littoral. Indian policy-makers have only just begun
to recognize the importance of the Indian Navy as a powerful tool in the
pursuit of their nation’s foreign policy objectives. The Indian Navy’s
ambitious modernization programme is geared towards its emergence as a
world class blue-water navy equipped and willing to meet regional
challenges and become a guarantor of regional peace and stability. India is
looking at its Navy not only as an instrument of war fighting but also as an
effective police force in the region as well as contributing to benign and
coercive diplomacy in the littoral. Though the Indian and Chinese navies
are usually placed on par with each other as ‘medium regional force
projection navies’ when attempts are made to classify world navies, the
pace of their recent growth might soon call for a re-evaluation.42 Indian
naval strategists warn that despite all the talk of quality and capability-
based platforms, the Indian Navy is actually shrinking in size and that a 10-
year strategic maritime gap has emerged between China and India which
will be difficult to close without radical actions to upgrade shipbuilding and
port infrastructure.43 Though Indian naval aspirations are growing, the
emphasis placed upon India’s sea power has not been commensurate with
the nation’s growing maritime commitments and the ever-more
sophisticated threats emerging in the waters around it. India’s reluctance,
primarily due to domestic political considerations, to conclude the logistics
support agreement with the US is also constraining the Indian Navy’s
ability to compete with the Chinese thrust into the Indian Ocean.
Asia is witnessing the rise of two giants, China and India,
simultaneously and this will cause some inevitable complications. It has
been suggested that much like the Japanese–American rivalry in the Pacific
during the first half of the twentieth century over overlapping SLOCs, a
similar degree of mutual suspicion and insecurity haunts Sino-Indian
relations in the Indian Ocean.44 While the costs of not cooperating will be
too high for both China and India, the struggle for power and influence
between the Asian giants will continue to shape India’s naval posture as
well as the strategic environment of the Indian Ocean region in the coming
years.
 1 For details, see https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/xo.html.
2 P.K. Das, ‘Maritime Dimensions of India’s Security’, Indian Defence Review, 18(2): 43–7.
3 Robert Kaplan, Monsoon Asia: The Indian Ocean and the Future of American Power (New
York: Random House, 2010).
4 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), INBR-8, Indian Maritime Doctrine, 2004,
p. 56.
5 Rahul Roy-Chaudhury, Sea Power and India’s Security (London: Brassey’s, 1995), p. 199.
6 S. Singh, ‘Indian Island Territories and National Security’, Indian Defence Review (January–
March 1995): 95.
7 Jasjit Singh, India’s Defence Spending: Assessing Future Needs (New Delhi: Knowledge World,
2001), pp. 22–3.
8 ‘India Plans to Spend More on Defence if Economy Grows’, Agence France-Presse, New Delhi,
20 October 2005.
9 Tathagata Bhattacharya, ‘Naval Power Will Be the Key to India’s Emergence’, CNN-IBN,
available at http://ibnlive.in.com/news/naval-power-will-be-the-key-to-indiasemergence/200537–
61.html.
10 V.N. Srinivas, ‘Trends in Defence Expenditure’, Air Power Journal, 3(1) (Spring 2006): 64–
73.
11 Arun Kumar Singh, ‘The Next Terror Attack Could Be from the Sea’, Asian Age, 18 May
2008.
12 ‘Indian Maritime Doctrine’, p. 56.
13 Emily Wax, ‘Indian Navy Sinks Suspected Somali Pirate “Mother Ship”’, Washington Post, 11
November 2008.
14 ‘UN Force Needed to Prevent Piracy: India’, Indian Express, 14 November 2008.
15 Shishir Gupta, ‘Coast Guard Moved on LeT Alert but Was All at Sea’, Indian Express, 11
December 2008.
16 Thomas Kane, Chinese Grand Strategy and Maritime Power (London: Frank Cass, 2002), p.
139.
17 Youssef Bodansky, ‘The PRC Surge for the Strait of Malacca and Spratly Confronts India and
the US’, Defense and Foreign Affairs Strategic Policy, Washington, DC, 30 September 1995, pp. 6–
13.
18 Manu Pubby, ‘China’s New N-Submarine Base Sets Off Alarm Bells’, Indian Express, 3 May
2008.
19 Bill Gertz, ‘China Builds Up Strategic Sea Lanes’, Washington Times, 18 January 2005.
20 For a detailed explication the security ramifications of the Chinese ‘string of pearls’ strategy,
see Gurpreet Khurana, ‘China’s “String of Pearls” in the Indian Ocean and Its Security Implications’,
Strategic Analysis, 32(1) (January 2008): 1–22.
21 For a nuanced analysis of this, see Andrew Selth, ‘Chinese Military Bases in Burma: The
Explosion of a Myth’, Griffith Asia Institute, Regional Outlook Paper No. 10, 2007.
22 Ziad Haider, ‘Oil Fuels Beijing’s New Power Game’, Yale Global Online, available at
http://yaleglobal.yale.edu/display.article?id=5411.
23 Manu Pubby, ‘Indian Submarine, Chinese Warship Test Each Other in Pirate Waters’, Indian
Express, 5 February 2009.
24 Quoted in Gavin Rabinowitz, ‘India, China Jostle for Influence in Indian Ocean’, The
Associated Press, 7 June 2008.
 25 E. Margolis, ‘India Rules the Waves’, Proceedings, US Naval Institute, 131(3), March 2005, p.
70.
26 Sam J. Tangredi, ‘The Future of Maritime Power’, in The Politics of Maritime Power: A
Survey, ed. Andrew T.H. Tan (London: Routledge, 2007), pp. 143–4.
27 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Freedom to Use the Seas: India’s
Maritime Military Strategy, 2007, p. 41.
28 On the recent trends in US–India ties, see Harsh V. Pant, Contemporary Debates in Indian
Foreign and Security Policy: India Negotiates Its Rise in the International System (New York:
Palgrave Macmillan, 2008), pp. 19–38.
29 Colin Powell, ‘US Looks to Its Allies for Stability in Asia and the Pacific’, International
Herald Tribune, 27 January 2001.
30 ‘United States: New Naval Strategy’, International Herald Tribune, 25 October 2007.
31 Sandeep Dikshit, ‘Join Global Policing of Sea Lanes, US Asks India’, The Hindu, 19 April
2007.
32 On India–Japan maritime cooperation, see Gurpreet Khurana, ‘Security of Sea-Lanes:
Prospects for India–Japan Cooperation’, Strategic Analysis, 31(1) (January 2007): 139–50.
33 On India’s strategic priorities in the Asia-Pacific, see Pant, ‘India in the Asia-Pacific: Rising
Ambitions with an Eye on China’, Asia-Pacific Review, 14(1) (2007): 54–71.
34 Yevgeny Bendersky et al., ‘India’s Project Seabird and the Indian Ocean’s Balance of Power’,
Power and Interest News Report, 20 July 2005.
35 Harsh V. Pant, “The India–Vietnam Axis,” Wall Street Journal, September 22, 2011.
36 Mohan Malik, ‘Chinese Strategy of Containing India’, Power and Interest News Report, 6
February 2006.
37 Pranab Dhal Samanta, ‘Start Getting Used to DSP: Defence Services Provider’, Indian
Express, 1 January 2008.
38 Manu Pubby, ‘3rd Aircraft Carrier to Be Inducted by 2017: Antony’, Indian Express, 17 May
2007.
39 Rahul Datta, ‘China Plans Chequers to Checkmate India’, Daily Pioneer, 8 November 2011.
40 Sandeep Unnithan, ‘Battle over Gorshkov’, India Today, 7 December 2007.
41 For a detailed discussion of this aspect, see Iskander Rehman’s chapter in this volume.
42 On the classification of world navies along various axes, see Eric Grove, The Future of
Seapower (London: Routledge, 1990), pp. 231–40.
43 Arun Kumar Singh, ‘Navy Coast Guard Must Get More Funds, Powers’, Asian Age, 2 June
2008.
44 John W. Garver, Protracted Contest: Sino-Indian Rivalry in the 20th Century (Seattle:
University of Washington Press, 1989), p. 285.
 Chapter 8
The US–India Naval Cooperation: Moving
Beyond Rhetoric
James R. Holmes

There shall be US–India cooperation. This commandment rings through

speeches, official statements of purpose, and learned commentary issuing
forth from the United States and India. Indeed, policymakers in both
capitals seemingly assume that an entente is part of the order of things.
Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee coined the phrase ‘natural allies’ in
1998, inaugurating this way of thinking.1 Both US presidential campaigns
espoused such an arrangement during the 2008 election cycle, terming it a
‘league’ or ‘concert’ of democracies.2 During a 2009 state visit from Prime
Minister Manmohan Singh, President Barack Obama agreed that the two
nations are ‘natural allies’.3 Another common if somewhat more muted
formula is ‘natural strategic partnership’, connoting less formal ties.4 Think
tanks and academic institutions have debated whether some working
arrangement between the world’s oldest and largest democracies is fated
and, if so, what that means in practical terms.5
The substance of the partnership between Washington and Delhi remains
obscure despite the seeming onset of an era of good feelings. The 2008 US
National Defense Strategy, for example, declares that Washington expects
New Delhi to ‘assume greater responsibility as a stakeholder in the
international system, commensurate with its growing economic, military,
and soft power’.6 Or consider the 2010 National Security Strategy, which
proclaims:
The United States and India are building a strategic partnership that is underpinned by our
shared interests, our shared values as the world’s two largest democracies, and close
connections among our people … We value India’s growing leadership on a wide array of
global issues … and will seek to work with India to promote stability in South Asia and
elsewhere in the world.7
Specifics are few and far between. It is doubtless worthwhile for
Washington to enlist New Delhi as a joint custodian of the US-led
international system, easing the burden on the United States at a time of
financial distress. But these documents do little more than express lofty
sentiments. They supply executors of US foreign policy – in particular the
US armed forces – with negligible actionable guidance. How should US
commanders work with Indians to advance worthy goals?
Nor do documents issued by the armed forces clarify much. The 2007
US Maritime Strategy, A Cooperative Strategy for 21st Century Seapower,
places great emphasis on constructing maritime coalitions to maintain
regional stability and safeguard the globalized system of trade and
commerce. Indeed, the Maritime Strategy lists fostering and sustaining
‘cooperative relationships with more international partners’ among six
‘strategic imperatives’. Its framers establish no hierarchy among the
strategic imperatives. For them cooperation constitutes a preventive
measure that ranks alongside deterring and prevailing in war, two other
imperatives on prominent display. And indeed, the Maritime Strategy
bluntly states that ‘preventing wars is as important as winning wars’8
(emphasis in original). Like other authoritative documents, the strategy
offers little substantive guidance beyond a directive to go forth and seek
partnerships.
Things are equally nebulous on the Indian side. As yet New Delhi has
published no national security strategy, national defence strategy or other
authoritative statement on how the Indian leadership views the security
setting and proper responses to it. Surveying documents promulgated by the
Indian Navy likewise yields little. The 2007 US Maritime Strategy
studiously avoids naming prospective friends, foes or bystanders. Neither
China nor India puts in an appearance. In a similar vein, the 2009 Indian
Maritime Doctrine makes only token references to the United States,
mentioning a few incidents involving US vessels.9 The 2007 Indian
Maritime Military Strategy relegates the United States to a list of several
governments the Indian government has been courting.10 In short, Indian
strategic documents shed little light on the nature of the collaborative
relationship most everyone agrees is a foregone conclusion.
The lack of specifics is telling. Beyond voicing goodwill, political
leaders appear to have little idea what they hope to accomplish through a
seagoing US–India partnership. In this chapter, consequently, I undertake a
back-to-basics investigation of US–India naval cooperation, examining (1)
which maritime functions lend themselves to combined action, (2) factors
that tend to unite and divide maritime coalitions, (3) intervening factors in
the US–India naval relationship, and (4) the likely contours of and
challenges before such an arrangement. With any luck, the analysis
ventured here will provide actionable input into the policy – and strategy-
making processes in both countries – helping them fashion an efficient,
amicable working relationship that imparts substance to the rhetorical
flourishes of statesmen.

What Domains for Cooperation?

To get some analytical purchase on questions pertaining to US–India naval

cooperation, we must first ask what functions sea power performs and
which of these functions lend themselves to combined action. King’s
College London Professor Geoffrey Till presents a useful taxonomy of
‘historic attributes of the sea’, arraying them from more to less competitive
in nature. They number four. First, the oceans, seas and seabeds offer
reserves of such natural resources as fish, oil and natural gas, and undersea
minerals. Second, maritime expanses are a medium for transportation.11
Historian Alfred Thayer Mahan portrayed the seas as a ‘great highway’, or
a ‘wide common, over which men may pass in all directions’.12 It is an
aquatic thoroughfare along which seagoing states can transport people, raw
materials, finished goods, or military forces. In a sense, the world’s oceans
and seas constitute a unified whole. Shipping that originates in any seaport
enjoys access to every other seaport across the face of the globe, not to
mention the deep interiors of states endowed with navigable bays and
rivers.
Third, seafaring is an enterprise that brings foreign peoples in contact
with one another, fostering exchanges of information. Or, as journalist
Robert Kaplan puts it, mariners plying the Indian Ocean since antiquity
gradually built up ‘a grand network of cross-oceanic communal ties’ in the
Indian Ocean. The product of this nautical interplay: a ‘global ocean’.13 And
fourth, the seas constitute an arena where states may struggle for
dominion.14 Control of vital expanses grants the dominant sea power the
option to prosecute operations against enemy shores, blockading them,
conducting amphibious landings, or otherwise projecting power inland. As
theorist Sir Julian Corbett observes, ‘You cannot conquer sea because it is
not susceptible of ownership, at least outside territorial waters’. While
outright conquest of vital expanses is impossible, the high seas hold
‘positive value’ in that the dominant sea power has the prerogative to carry
on trade, commerce and military action while denying these functions –
functions critical to ‘national life’ – to adversaries.15 The seas, then, are a
crucible in which nations contend for commercial and geopolitical
supremacy.
Which of these four functional domains – resources, transportation,
information and dominion – are most and least hospitable for high-seas
cooperation between the United States and India? All of them conceivably
lend themselves to joint effort, but set the informational function aside.
Informational and cultural exchanges are part of the daily routine of
seafaring. It is hard to see how the US and Indian sea services could
safeguard this function, and it is hard to see why they would need to. Apart
from telling their story well to various domestic and international audiences
– convincing others that a US–Indian maritime entente supplies ‘public
goods’ benefiting all Indian Ocean states and thus, to use the US Navy
slogan, is a ‘force for good’ – there is little Washington and New Delhi
need do together in the informational realm.16 Combined efforts at strategic
communication can await the emergence of a better-defined partnership,
when officials know what story they have to tell.
Let us investigate what the key documents say about the remaining three
domains. The 2007 US Maritime Strategy essentially prescribes a two-
tiered global presence for the sea services. On the first plane, the US Navy,
Marine Corps, and Coast Guard will stage ‘regionally concentrated,
credible combat power’ in two oceans, the Western Pacific and the Indian
Ocean. The purpose of mounting such a presence is to deter, limit or prevail
in major-power war.17 In effect the Maritime Strategy proclaims that the sea
services will remain the two-ocean force they have been for seven-plus
decades. Congress enacted the Two-Ocean Navy Act in 1940, in effect
creating two complete navies, one for the Atlantic theatre of operations and
one for the Pacific. The Maritime Strategy substitutes the Indian Ocean /
Persian Gulf as the second ocean. As a result, the United States’ maritime
posture exhibits a decidedly ‘Indo-Pacific’ hue.18
 Second, the strategy directs the sea services to station ‘globally
distributed, mission-tailored maritime forces’ around the world for such
missions as enhancing defence-in-depth of North America, forging
partnerships with governments and non-state bodies, and attempting to
prevent ‘local disruptions’ such as piracy, terrorism, or weapons trafficking
from upsetting the global system of trade and commerce. The framers of the
strategy reserve the right to ‘impose local sea control wherever necessary,
ideally in concert with friends and allies, but by ourselves if we must’.19
The United States, then, declares that it will remain the foremost seagoing
force in two oceans while contemplating asserting sea control in any
navigable expanse across the globe. This is a statement of breathtaking
ambition.
In Till’s sea-power taxonomy, the US Maritime Strategy accentuates the
dominion and transportation functions. Indeed, the ‘regionally
concentrated’ component of the strategy relates primarily to traditional
combat missions, whereas the ‘globally distributed’ component is mainly
about free navigation through the maritime commons and the skies
overhead. While the United States – one hopes – harbours no desire for
dominion of its own in the Indian Ocean, a broad-based condominium with
India could well require the two navies to contest outsiders’ efforts to
impose primacy of their own. A standing Chinese naval presence in the
region represents one development that might summon forth combined
efforts designed to withhold dominion from a rival sea power. In Corbettian
parlance, New Delhi and Washington might undertake a campaign of
‘negative object’ – a sort of joint ‘counter-dominion’ venture.20
The chief innovation embedded in the Cooperative Strategy for 21st
Century Sea-power, however, is the framers’ advocacy on behalf of US and
allied trusteeship of the globalized system. The strategy enjoins the sea
services to seek out partnerships with foreign navies, coast guards and law-
enforcement agencies principally to guarantee the free flow of commerce
and military power through the commons. This represents a sharp break
with past US maritime strategies that aimed almost entirely at seaborne
dominion. For instance, the 1982 US Maritime Strategy midwifed by
Admiral James Watkins and Secretary of the Navy John Lehman – the US
Navy’s last official strategy – concentrated exclusively on how sea power
could help defeat the Soviet Union during a European war. Under-Secretary
of Defense Michèle Flournoy published an article in conjunction with the
2010 Quadrennial Defense Review (QDR), predicated largely on assuring
the free flow of commerce and military power through the Mahanian
commons.21 Official documents are replete with similar mentions.22
Multinational custodianship of the commons is a concept whose time has
arrived in US foreign-policy circles.
For its part, judging from the 2007 Maritime Military Strategy, India
entertains a more geographically constrained, more unilateral vision of its
geopolitical surroundings and how to manage them. Even so, there is
considerable common ground. In his extraordinarily rich foreword to the
Maritime Military Strategy, Admiral Sureesh Mehta, the Indian Navy Chief
of Staff, denies that New Delhi entertains ‘any extra-territorial ambitions’.
Instead, says Mehta:
our primary maritime military interest is to ensure national security, provide insulation from
external interference, so that the vital tasks of fostering economic growth and undertaking
developmental activities, can take place in a secure environment. Consequently, India’s
maritime military strategy is underpinned on ‘the freedom to use the seas for our national
purposes, under all circumstances’ (my emphasis).23

Providing for secure, stable surroundings is India’s ‘primary national

interest’ according to the Indian Navy chief. By discharging its missions,
then, the Navy can help the nation ‘take its rightful place in the comity of
nations and attain its manifest destiny’.24 This constitutes a lofty vision of
India’s maritime destiny. Parsing the Maritime Military Strategy and related
documents offers a glimpse of the possibilities for US–India coalition-
building.
Resisting hostile dominion over adjoining seas figures prominently in
Indian maritime strategy, just as it does in similar US documents. Much as
the Maritime Military Strategy places buffering against external
intervention squarely at the centre of Indian strategy, the 2009 Indian
Maritime Doctrine deems it the ‘prime military objective’ for the Indian
Navy ‘to deter any military adventurism against the country, including
intervention in India’s affairs and subversive strategies against our national
interests’. Decisive victory is the Navy’s overriding goal in wartime.
Associated objectives include providing security against seaborne threats,
influencing affairs on land, safeguarding maritime trade and commerce, and
offering a versatile instrument of power for national policymakers. The
latter can range from high-end combat missions to what Indian officials call
‘benign’ missions like humanitarian relief and non-combatant evacuations.25
 The Maritime Military Strategy probes the meaning of ‘maritime
cooperation’ in greater detail than does the US Maritime Strategy. The
authors subdivide collaborative endeavours into ‘“strategic defense security
cooperation”, “defense industry and technology cooperation” and “navy-to-
navy cooperation”’. The strategy’s authors portray the Indian Navy as ‘the
primary tool for maritime cooperation’, calling on the naval leadership to
engage ‘extra-regional powers and regional navies in mutually beneficial
activities to ensure the security of India’s maritime interests’. They discern
several ‘key drivers for maritime cooperation’. The document first
acknowledges that such enterprises take place at the behest of the nation’s
political leadership. ‘Political direction’ constitutes ‘the overarching driver
of maritime cooperation’. Next come three interconnected drivers that
seemingly aim at creating an auspicious strategic setting for peacetime and
wartime endeavours. Ensuring a ‘favorable maritime security environment
in our immediate neighborhood is the most compelling driver’ for
collaborative efforts.26
To do so, New Delhi must accumulate influence for itself vis-à-vis
Indian Ocean states, reversing its ‘past inactivity in this area’. The authors
see a reciprocal and crucial imperative to ‘wean the littoral states of our
immediate neighborhood away from the increasingly pervasive influence of
states hostile to Indian interests’. By this they presumably mean China, the
only extra-regional state with dubious intentions and – arguably – pervasive
influence in South Asia. By ‘rendering speedy and quality assistance’ to
states receptive to outside influence, New Delhi can forestall ‘incursions by
powers inimical to India’s national interests’. Having reached out to states
populating the Indian Ocean basin, India will have ‘shaped’ the ‘probable
battle-space’ in the Bay of Bengal and the Arabian Sea in its favour should
conflict or war break out.27 Efforts at outreach, then, pay dividends
throughout the continuum from peace to war.
The next important driver is ‘ensuring the safety of Indian sea-borne
trade in the Indian Ocean and beyond’. This spans India’s home region and
beyond. Within the Indian Ocean basin, protecting seagoing traffic means
‘exercising linkages with countries located astride the maritime choke
points’ that furnish access to and egress from the region. While the Strait of
Malacca, the Bab el-Mandeb Strait and the Strait of Hormuz are the
highest-profile access points to the Indian Ocean, shipping can enter or exit
the region through nine narrow seas. Safeguarding the sea lines of
communication (SLOCs) has a strongly Indo-Pacific flair for the Indian
Navy. The document takes note of ‘the fact that the countries of South-East
and East Asia’ represent India’s biggest trading partners, overshadowing
even Europe and the United States. Accordingly, ‘it is imperative that we
engage with all those countries that are important sources or destinations of
our sea-borne trade’ in the China seas and the Western Pacific.28
The most prominent remaining drivers for maritime cooperation are
functional and technical in nature. That is, collaborative endeavours in these
areas constitute enablers for larger collaborative missions. The Maritime
Military Strategy, for instance, espouses ‘facilitating technological
engagements’. By this the authors mean obtaining naval technology from
abroad through ‘import, transfer of technology, joint development, joint
production’, and the like. They also mean courting ‘resource-strapped
regional maritime countries’ as buyers of Indian-built platforms and
hardware. Such relationships dovetail with efforts at ‘enhancing regional
and extra-regional interoperability’, mainly for combined non-combat
ventures ‘ranging from disaster relief to anti-piracy missions and non-
combatant casualty evacuation operations’. Outfitting regional sea services
with compatible hardware, tactics and procedures helps them work together
in stressful times. The strategy directs the navy to ‘convert as many bilateral
interactions into multilateral ones’ as possible while nurturing ‘a degree and
comfort and trust’ with fleets able to help the Indian Navy meet its needs.29
Intriguingly, the Maritime Military Strategy separates maritime
cooperation from the ‘constabulary role’, a domain that involves using
maritime military power against threats to free navigation. That it does so
could represent an ill omen for broad-based US–India cooperation at sea.
The drafters of the strategy define the constabulary function as the ‘graded
application of maritime power against state-sponsored or non-state actors
undertaking hostile activities’ such as poaching, smuggling, piracy and
other infractions of coastal security. While the Indian Coast Guard performs
many law-enforcement duties within the nation’s maritime zones, ‘the
Indian Navy is responsible for ensuring defense of our maritime economic
assets’. The Navy helps maintain ‘good order at sea’ by combating
terrorism, piracy and trafficking in various proscribed materiel and
substances.
The strategy recounts undertaking joint anti-trafficking patrols with
Indonesia and Thailand in the Bay of Bengal and predicts an expansion of
such multinational undertakings.30 Still, partitioning constabulary missions
from maritime cooperation does connote a more unilateral attitude toward
protecting transportation along Indian coastlines. The strategy remains
silent about whether New Delhi would prove amenable to working with
extra-regional powers on such missions so close to the subcontinent.
In broad strokes, then, US and Indian maritime strategies appear
compatible. Both capitals take an Indo-Pacific view of maritime strategy,
albeit while placing varying degrees of emphasis on the China seas and the
Western Pacific Ocean. Washington considers the Western Pacific a co-
equal theatre with the Indian Ocean and the Persian Gulf, whereas New
Delhi naturally lays greater weight on managing its immediate geographic
environs. Both oppose dominion over the Indian Ocean basin by any hostile
power. Both accentuate preserving unfettered use of the sea and air lanes in
the face of state and non-state challenges. How does Till’s resources domain
fit in? Mostly at the margins. As the Indian Maritime Military Strategy’s
appraisal of good order at sea shows, New Delhi is apt to take a more
standoffish attitude toward maritime cooperation in its exclusive economic
zones and other offshore waters. These, after all, are sea areas where India
holds jurisdiction if not outright territorial sovereignty.
It is nonetheless conceivable that resources could become conflated with
the dominion and transportation spheres. Large-scale Chinese entry into the
Indian Ocean region will remain improbable so long as Beijing has
unfinished business closer to home. It is far from clear that the Chinese
military can command even the near seas. Over the long haul, however,
China may make a serious push to establish a standing naval presence in the
Indian Ocean. Backed by ballistic missiles based in China proper or
forward-deployed to the region, a Chinese Indian Ocean squadron would
represent a plausible competitor. While a Chinese bid for outright dominion
is unlikely, strong sea and air forces operating alongside regional forces like
the Pakistani military could imperil free navigation through South Asian
waters and skies.
By default, then, the US and Indian sea services might find themselves
guarding Indian maritime resources, simply because they would be
defending free passage through the sea lanes and the skies overhead. While
resources will never be a primary focus for US–India naval cooperation,
then, it could well become entangled with other spheres of mutual
endeavour. Much will depend on circumstances.
Glues and Solvents for Coalition Unity

There appears to be a broad confluence of maritime interests and strategies

between the United States and India, while both leaderships firmly avow
their desire for a democratic concert. The fact remains, however, that
interests and statements of purpose have not united a broad-based seafaring
consortium. Why not? Because details matter. It’s one thing for Washington
and New Delhi to agree in principle to march jointly against hostile
encroachment in the Indian Ocean or tamp down menaces to free movement
through regional waters and airspace. Yet barring a clear, present and
overriding danger that compels the partners to set aside politics, the nature
and staying power of a US–Indian coalition will depend on specific
opponents, partners and third parties, not to mention the vagaries of
domestic and regional politics for both partners.
By no means is a durable coalition a foregone conclusion so long as
dangers remain remote and inchoate, as at present. Its endurance promises
to be a function of political and strategic leadership in both capitals – the
adhesive that binds multinational ventures together. As political scientist
Robert Jervis points out, aligning disparate agencies and interests toward
common aims verges on impossible in ambiguous times, even within a
single country bound together by a common history, traditions and
worldview:
… because neither any one interest nor the state itself is strong enough to impose coherent and
consistent guidance, courses of action will be shaped less by a grand design than by the pulling
and hauling of various interests, ideas, and political calculations.31

The ‘pluralism’ described by Jervis prevails absent strategic clarity.

Pluralism is a potential solvent for formal and informal coalitions alike. The
clarity needed to override pluralism – to persuade those clamouring for
policy agendas to set aside or postpone their differences – generally
manifests itself in a well-equipped antagonist operating within known
parameters.
By contrast, as historian George Baer explains, drift ensues when the
nation turns inward, the sea services confront institutional challenges, or no
outside threat supplies a focal point for strategy.32 Or as an exasperated
Captain Harry Yarnell put it in 1919, during the immediate post-World War
I era when the US Navy was floundering around in search of future
missions, planning without a clear purpose is like ‘trying to design a
machine tool without knowing whether it is going to manufacture hairpins
or locomotives’.33 Perversely, then, relatively benign times impair efforts to
devise strategy for the not-so-good days to come after new threats
crystallize.
Foresight and political resolve are in acutely short supply amid tranquil
times, when the national leadership enjoys the luxuries of resources and a
respite to think ahead yet cannot concentrate minds because no immediate
dangers have gathered. If unity of effort is elusive within a single state and
society, aggregating multiple states within a coalition multiplies the effects
of pluralism. More and more players and interests enter the arena, pulling
combined policy and strategy this way and that. Consequently, it’s
worthwhile to survey the factors that will tend to unite and divide a marine
entente between the United States and India, and into the determinants of
how sturdy such an arrangement will prove.
Consider a basic question: why do alliances and coalitions form, thrive,
decay and dissolve? US officials and military officers have paid insufficient
heed to the mechanics of coalition maintenance judging from official
strategy documents. The 2008 US National Defense Strategy pleads on
behalf of partnerships, coalitions and alliances while offering few specifics
on how to craft and sustain such alignments or on the purposes that drive
them. The National Defense Strategy vows to ‘strengthen and expand
alliances and partnerships’, remaking and reinforcing old alignments while
cultivating new partnerships. The document acknowledges that interests and
capabilities will vary among prospective partners.34 Beyond that, details are
sketchy. The same holds true for the 2010 QDR, a document rife with talk
about ‘relationships’ and ‘partnerships’ yet short on details. The QDR
focuses almost exclusively on enhancing the ‘security capacity of partner
states’, to borrow the document’s lingo.35 Coalition management goes
almost completely unexamined.
Nor have scholars fared much better, considering how thin the literature
on alliance-building remains. Revisiting the academic literature on alliances
and sea power can help policymakers make sense of this brave new world
and, with any luck, help them prosper within it. To gain some analytical
traction on this matter, would-be architects of seagoing coalitions should
ask what makes durable maritime coalitions and, conversely, what tends to
degrade or shatter such alignments. Alerting practitioners to foreseeable
complications and problems should help them assemble and manage
coalitions more effectively.
The most serviceable work on the subject remains Harvard political
scientist Stephen Walt’s ‘Alliance Formation and the Balance of World
Power’, published in International Security fully a quarter of a century ago.
Walt’s realist analysis retains its value despite the sea change to the
international order since the Cold War. As seen before, Geoffrey Till’s
taxonomy of the functions of sea power is of considerable practical use.
Edward Luttwak’s survey of the political uses of sea power and Joseph
Nye’s theory of ‘international public goods’ come in handy as well. By
acquainting themselves with the factors that intersect with maritime
coalition-building and upkeep, strategic leaders can better meet today’s
exigencies – accomplishing national goals despite economic and military
stress.

Threats

Alliances and coalitions seldom fall into place of their own accord, however
compelling the case for them. Nor do they weather shifts in the strategic
surroundings absent deliberate, painstaking effort on the part of diplomats,
military officers and political leaders. Walt postulates that three major
factors prompt states to align: common threats, cultural or ideological
affinities, and deliberate recruitment strategies pursued by leading states.
Threats come first, as Baer and Jervis contend. Foreign armed forces with
the capacity to strike at one’s homeland or armed forces represent the most
obvious threats to national security. A state combining physical might with
predatory intent comprises a threat likely to elicit some countervailing
response. Survival ranks uppermost in any state’s strategic calculus.
In international-relations parlance, ‘balancing’ and ‘bandwagoning’ are
two actions states commonly take to protect themselves against states
displaying the power and the political resolve to do them harm. Balancing is
little more than states banding together. They aggregate their power to
offset the pretensions of a strong, potentially domineering state.
Bandwagoning, by contrast, is a kind of protection scheme in which the
weak subordinate themselves to the strong in hopes of mollifying the
strong. It is an indirect strategy for deflating external threats. Very weak
states situated near overbearing ones resort to bandwagoning when few
allies are available to help counterbalance the hegemon. Latin American
republics deferred to the United States in the age of the Monroe Doctrine,
simply because they saw little other recourse. Balancing is far more
common in Walt’s judgement.
Walt presents an almost purely state-centric appraisal of alliances and
coalitions. And indeed, now as during the Cold War, hostile fleets represent
the greatest challenges at sea. A US–India consortium aimed at countering
hostile dominion in Asian seas and skies would fit most neatly into his
scheme of things. Bandwagoning holds little relevance for Indian strategy.
It borders on unthinkable that New Delhi would accept a subservient
position vis-à-vis Beijing to protect itself. While China’s rise has
outstripped India’s by economic and military measures, the gap between
their national power is not a chasm. While the two Asian powers share a
common land frontier, moreover, China must approach the Indian Ocean
along ‘exterior lines’ to mount a serious naval presence there. Despite its
overall inferiority, India holds certain advantages by virtue of its central
position, its status as an ‘interior-line’ power relative to China, and the other
host of attributes that favour the ‘home team’ playing on its own ground.36
New Delhi can resist Chinese blandishments with fair prospects of success.
Balancing is another matter. New Delhi styles itself the Indian Ocean’s
foremost power, while the 2007 US Maritime Strategy in essence proclaims
that the US sea services will remain the foremost maritime force in South
Asia. But while occasional frictions mar the bilateral relationship, no
competitive impulse threatens to set the two democratic states at odds with
each other. Indeed, India has long contented itself with free-riding on US-
supplied maritime security. China’s ascent to great sea power could alter
calculations in both capitals. If Beijing decides to establish a standing naval
presence in the Indian Ocean, if it develops physical might to match its
ambitions, and if it constructs forward naval bases in the region, then it may
constitute a challenge of sufficient magnitude to unite a US–Indian
coalition.
No formal alliance is likely in view of India’s well-known allergy to
foreign entanglements, but an informal balancing arrangement of some type
could take form. For now, while China’s naval project remains a work in
progress, Beijing has more than enough to occupy it in the China seas. Any
Chinese challenge, then, remains too remote and amorphous to induce India
and the United States to join forces. Resources spent on countering an
illusory – for now – challenge would be resources wasted. Nor is it obvious
that US sea power will remain on the decline in the Indian Ocean, forcing
New Delhi to take up some of the slack. It is loath to abandon a free-rider
strategy that frees up scarce resources for economic development – the top
priority for any developing nation. Should China regain control of Taiwan,
settle maritime claims in the China seas to its satisfaction, and otherwise
pacify its nautical periphery, then it may turn its energies to South Asia –
triggering the balancing instinct in Washington and New Delhi. For now
China applies too weak an adhesive to bind together a seagoing entente.
Nor is constructing a coalition a simple matter in the realm of
transportation, despite oft-stated, doubtless sincere pledges from both
governments to clear the seas and skies of scourges such as piracy,
terrorism, weapons proliferation and unlawful trafficking of various sorts.
Coalitions perform best against discrete, formidable threats for a finite
amount of time. In short, dominion missions stand the best chance of
overcoming political pluralism in complex societies. The Imperial Japanese
Navy and the Soviet Navy concentrated minds in their day, not only among
political and strategic elites but among ordinary citizens. In a way
policymakers had it easier during World War II and the Cold War than they
do today, despite the magnitude of the perils the Western world faced.
People readily comprehended mortal challenges and, on the whole, agreed
on strategy for tackling them.
By contrast, maritime-security coalitions form to combat apparent
abstractions like ‘piracy’ and ‘proliferation’, not readily intelligible threats
like enemy fleets. Pakistani nuclear scientist A.Q. Khan was the face of a
nuclear proliferation ring of decades’ standing, but the precise nature and
scope of his activities remain obscure to this day. For Americans, the face
of Somali piracy is three young Somalis in a raft, gunned down by
sharpshooters from USS Bainbridge after hijacking the freighter Maersk
Alabama in 2009. It is hard to rouse and sustain popular sentiment for non-
sequential campaigns against seemingly low-grade threats like pirates or
grey-market proliferation rings. If challenges to SLOC security are of lesser
magnitude, perversely, they never disappear. Just as common crime never
fully ends in cities, letting the police department disband, states that join
forces to uphold SLOC security undertake an open-ended mission.
 Furthermore, maritime security is more a constabulary than a combat
function. Denizens of the global commons pose a bewildering variety of
threats, just as police forces war against many types of common crimes.
Threats issue from different actors. Governments hold different views about
how to battle distinct threats. For example, the United States helped found
the Proliferation Security Initiative (PSI) and has constantly pushed this
decentralized counter-proliferation in the years since. India has repeatedly
endorsed counter-proliferation in principle yet has shied away from the PSI.
Both states’ navies help patrol the Gulf of Aden and adjacent waters, yet
they do so separately – or, in the American case, by working through a
patchwork of pre-existing alliances like NATO, along with specially
organized task forces – rather than accepting a unified command. The
political ramifications of this multifaceted threat milieu for coalition-
building and maintenance are pronounced. No one-size-fits-all approach to
maritime security is likely to work, even between friendly, likeminded
powers such as India and the United States.
Nor do the same scourges imperil all nautical thoroughfares in the same
proportions at the same time. Geography counts. The western Indian Ocean
is mainly plagued by maritime piracy. South-East Asia finds itself
bedevilled by the full range of maritime-security dangers, whereas expanses
remote from important maritime nexuses like the Strait of Malacca or the
Bab el-Mandeb Strait are relatively quiescent. Governments incline toward
apathy vis-à-vis faraway hazards while taking nearby ones – or ones that
are remote but directly infringe upon their interests – more seriously. In
short, distance attenuates threat perceptions and thus nations’ propensity to
work together against common perils. In Walt’s terms, the United States and
India must contrive a framework governing combined action against threats
that, unlike an Imperial Japan, a Nazi Germany or a USSR, do not place the
two partners on ‘death ground’ yet may never be overcome. Summoning
the political resolve to bandwagon against non-state threats will prove a
challenge of the first order for Washington and New Delhi.
And finally, it is worth pointing out that internal stresses within a US–
Indian entente could result from efforts to manage state and non-state
challenges at the same time. The geometry of bandwagoning against
multiple scourges could prove tricky indeed. Each partner will size up these
challenges and the priorities it assigns them according to its own history,
traditions and ways of thinking about politics and strategy. One hypothetical
yet plausible example: would the United States and India interfere with – or
decline to protect – Chinese merchant shipping in the Indian Ocean
commons if they were embroiled in a traditional state-on-state confrontation
with China? This would bring US–Indian cooperation in the realm of
dominion into direct conflict with US–Indian cooperation to safeguard
transportation – creating unpredictable strains within the entente. It’s
anyone’s guess how the ensuing debate between the partners would work
out.

Cultural, Social and Ideological Affinities

Walt observes that cultural, social and ideological affinities also play a part
in alliance politics, on the logic that birds of a feather flock together. True to
his realist outlook, he deems social and cultural magnetism a lesser factor,
an option states exercise once they feel secure and have the luxury to
indulge their preferences. The Anglo-American caucus in World War II is
one example. The English-speaking states joined the Soviet Union in a
Grand Alliance out of sheer expediency but collaborated within the
Alliance out of choice. Walt adds that ideology and culture can apply a
solvent instead of a glue to alliance unity. Disparities in worldview may not
shatter a coalition overnight, but they may degrade its unity and
effectiveness over time. This could be a complicating factor in the
maritime-security setting, where threats are stubborn yet insufficiently
menacing to compel partners to set aside their differences. The same could
prove true in counter-dominion efforts, hampering US–India cooperation
until such time as a more concrete great-power threat takes shape.
It behoves Americans in particular not to assume too much about the
power of a common language, a common heritage of British rule and a
common form of government to unify a US–Indian league of seafaring
democracies. The United States and India shared an at-times stormy past
during the Cold War. Many encounters involved the sea. While remaining
officially non-aligned, New Delhi inclined to the Soviet bloc, purchasing
the bulk of its military hardware from Moscow. Indian traditions predispose
officials and diplomats to look askance at foreign military bases in South
Asia. The US presence in the Persian Gulf and at Diego Garcia occasionally
triggered this reflex. Washington sent an aircraft-carrier task force into the
Bay of Bengal during the 1971 war between India and Pakistan, ostensibly
to calm the warring parties. Indians interpreted this as a clumsy American
effort at intimidation. The USS Enterprise episode rankles with them to this
day. US-led non-proliferation institutions made India a target for decades
following its 1974 ‘peaceful nuclear explosion’, stoking resentments on the
subcontinent that still linger.
In short, cultural and social sympathies have much to overcome if they
are to cement a lasting coalition. US policymakers should not bank on this
supposed unifying force too much.

Incentives and Coercion

Walt divines a third component of alliance formation. Powerful states may

deploy incentives, indulge in political manipulation, or even resort to
coercion as recruitment strategies. Coercion is farfetched for good-order-at-
sea missions. For reasons elaborated above, any US effort to strong-arm
New Delhi would reawaken bad memories, truncating any effort at
coalition-building. Political intrigues would have the same effect. On the
other hand, supplying incentives like material assistance, exposure to
tactics, techniques and procedures, and other benefits represents a
promising strategy for recruiting, training and sustaining a cohort of
seafaring states. As noted before, the US sea services are pursing various
mechanisms to improve the capacity of coastal states to manage their
surroundings. Now approaching their third decade, the recurrent Malabar
exercises represent on forum in which the US Navy and Coast Guard share
expertise with their Indian counterparts.
Functional cooperation, then, places joint and combined capabilities at
the discretion of policymakers, and it helps build habits of trust and
collaboration. Over time, such habits could bias the overall US–India
relationship toward a broader and deeper partnership, helping them
surmount the impediments detailed before. Ultimately, of course, it is up to
statesmen to put political substance into working arrangements.
Furthermore, fiscal constraints increasingly limit the incentives Washington
has to offer. Whether supplying equipment and tactical-level cooperation
can sustain coalition unity over the long haul remains an open question.
Much will depend on US domestic politics. Sea power is a conscious
political choice. It demands not only the political resolve to build and
maintain strong maritime forces but also an economy able to sustain such
forces. How Washington handles its finances in the coming years will be a
critical determinant of US–India naval cooperation.
US House Speaker Tip O’Neill liked to say that all politics is local. With
apologies to O’Neill, all politics may not be local, but local politics is
crucial to effective foreign policy. In Walt’s terms, the challenge before the
United States and India is to found a maritime coalition to battle a
combination of diffuse, open-ended non-state threats and formidable yet
nebulous great-power threats. Cultural, ideological and social affinities
appear necessary but insufficient for such an undertaking. And Washington
must do all this in an age when defence resources – and thus its capacity to
entice this rising sea power – are in free fall. This is no small challenge.

Policy Implications

Clearly, then, hard diplomatic work lies ahead for US and Indian officials,
over and above the labours they expect of their sea services. The principal
challenges appear to be intellectual for both capitals. Washington must
dispel any illusions that a bilateral maritime league will simply happen. It
will not, for reasons explained here. US leaders must also temper any
expectations that functional, tactical-level cooperation will pay off in the
form of political goodwill. It only makes sense for the sea services to
develop common tactics and procedures, giving their respective
governments options for times of crisis. But the capacity of exercises and
other tactical collaboration to radiate upward to the political level remains
doubtful – especially in New Delhi, where stringent civil control of the
military is the rule and views espoused by military officers carry little
weight. Here again, Washington much not assume that vast impersonal
forces make for automatic unity in the US–India relationship.
For New Delhi the intellectual hurdle to leap is the long-standing
assumption that the US sea services can provide for Indian Ocean security
more or less indefinitely. Leave aside obvious problems such as stagnant or
declining US defence budgets and the skyrocketing cost of naval hardware.
These exert palpable downward pressure on the size and capability of the
US force structure. But Indians much also recognize how hard it is for
Washington to exercise sea power in the Indian Ocean relative to the
Atlantic Ocean, the ocean it replaced in US maritime strategy. This will be
especially true in counter-dominion efforts if China is the adversary the
United States and India hope to balance against. Wartime reinforcements
from the Pacific theatre, where most US assets are now stationed, would
have to pass through the South China Sea – an expanse more or less
claimed by Beijing – just to reach the Indian Ocean theatre. That US fleets
could run this gauntlet without incurring unacceptable losses is far from
certain.
A measure of empathy with India’s prospective US partner, then, will go
a long way toward assuring coalition amity and effectiveness. The
temptation to free-ride is understandable, and indeed the United States free-
rode on maritime security supplied by Britain’s Royal Navy for most of the
nineteenth century. But Great Britain ultimately proved unable to sustain
the burden of ruling the world’s oceans. The United States built a great
navy and accepted a growing share of the load. New Delhi should plan on
the assumption that it will need to do the same in the Indian Ocean in the
not-too-distant future. Foresight is a cardinal virtue – for both nations.
 1 Richard Fontaine, ‘Rejuvenating Strategic Partnership’, Times of India, 22 October 2010, at
http://articles.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/2010-10-22/edit-page/28218951_1_global-interests-
strategic-partnership-largest-democracies.
2 See for instance ‘Is a League of Democracies a Good Idea?’ Roundtable at Carnegie
Endowment for International Peace, 29 May 2008, Carnegie Endowment website, at
www.carnegieendowment.org/files/0529carnegie-league_of per cent20democracies.pdf.
3 Kevin Whitelaw, ‘Obama: U.S., India “Natural Allies” in 21st Century’, National Public Radio,
24 November 2009, NPR website, at www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=120712790.
4 Sanjeev Kumar Shrivastav, ‘Contours of the India-United States Strategic Partnership’, IDSA
Comment, 29 September 2009, Institute for Defence Studies and Analyses website, at
www.idsa.in/idsastrategiccomments/ContoursoftheIndia-
UnitedStatesStrategicPartnership_skshrivastav_290909.
5 See for instance Richard L. Armitage, R. Nicholas Burns and Richard Fontaine, Natural Allies:
A Blueprint for the Future of U.S.-India Relations (Washington, DC: Center for a New American
Security, October 2010); Michele Flournoy, ‘Investing in the Future of U.S.-India Defense
Relations’, Remarks to Asia Society, Washington, DC, 1 July 2010, Asia Society website, at
http://asiasociety.org/files/pdf/100701_flournoy_transcript.pdf; Stephen J. Blank, Natural Allies?
Regional Security in Asia and Prospects for Indo-American Strategic Cooperation (Carlisle:
Strategic Studies Institute, US Army War College, September 2005), at
www.strategicstudiesinstitute.army.mil/pdffiles/pub626.pdf.
6 U.S. Office of the Secretary of Defense, National Defense Strategy, June 2008, p. 14,
GlobalSecurity.org, at www.globalsecurity.org/military/library/policy/dod/nationaldefense-
strategy_2008.pdf.
7 White House, National Security Strategy, May 2010, White House website, at
www.whitehouse.gov/sites/default/files/rss_viewer/national_security_strategy.pdf.
8 US Navy, Marine Corps and Coast Guard, A Cooperative Strategy for 21st Century Seapower,
October 2007, US Navy website, at www.navy.mil/maritime/Maritimestrategy.pdf.
9 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), INBR-8, Indian Maritime Doctrine,
August 2009.
10 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Freedom to Use the Seas: India’s
Maritime Military Strategy, May 2007, p. 134.
11 Geoffrey Till, Seapower: A Guide for the Twenty-First Century, 2nd edn (London: Routledge,
2009), pp. 24–8.
12 Alfred Thayer Mahan, The Influence of Sea Power upon History (1890; reprint, Boston: Little,
Brown, 1905), p. 25.
13 Robert D. Kaplan, Monsoon: The Indian Ocean and the Future of American Power (New York:
Random House, 2010), p. 6.
14 Till, Seapower, pp. 29–33.
15 Julian S. Corbett, Some Principles of Maritime Strategy (1911; reprint, Annapolis: Naval
Institute Press, 1988), pp. 15–16, 91–3.
16 Joseph S. Nye Jr., ‘The American National Interest and Global Public Goods’, International
Affairs 78(2) (April 2002): 233–44, at www.jstor.org/stable/3095679; ‘Telling the Story of America’s
Global Force for Good’, Naval History & Heritage Command, at www.history.navy.mil/.
17 US Navy, Marine Corps, and Coast Guard, Cooperative Strategy for 21st Century Seapower.
18 Michael Auslin, ‘Tipping Point in the Indo-Pacific’, American Interest, March/April 2011, at
www.the-american-interest.com/article-bd.cfm?piece=924.
 19 US Navy, Marine Corps, and Coast Guard, Cooperative Strategy for 21st Century Seapower.
20 Corbett, Some Principles of Maritime Strategy, p. 328.
21 Michèle Flournoy and Shawn Brimley, ‘The Contested Commons’, U.S. Department of
Defense website, at www.defense.gov/qdr/flournoy-article.html.
22 See for example the 2011 US National Military Strategy, which observes that ‘States are
developing anti-access and area-denial capabilities and strategies to constrain U.S. and international
freedom of action. These states are rapidly acquiring technologies, such as missiles and autonomous
and remotely-piloted platforms that challenge our ability to project power from the global commons
and increase our operational risk’ (my emphasis). US Joint Chiefs of Staff, The National Military
Strategy of the United States of America, 2011, February 2011, Joint Chiefs of Staff website, at
www.jcs.mil/content/files/2011–02/020811084800_2011_NMS_-_08_FEB_2011.pdf.
23 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Freedom to Use the Seas, p. iii.
24 Ibid.
25 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defense (Navy), Indian Maritime Doctrine, pp. 92–5;
ibid., Freedom to Use the Seas, pp. 94–7.
26 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Freedom to Use the Seas, pp. 83, 87.
27 Ibid.
28 Ibid., p. 88.
29 Ibid.
30 Ibid., pp. 89–94.
31 Robert Jervis, ‘U.S. Grand Strategy: Mission Impossible’, Naval War College Review, 51(3)
(Summer 1998): 27.
32 George W. Baer, One Hundred Years of Sea Power: The U.S. Navy, 1890–1990 (Stanford:
Stanford University Press, 1994), pp. 3, 275–80.
33 Harry Yarnell, in The United States Navy in the Pacific, 1909–1922, ed. William R. Braisted
(Austin: University of Texas Press, 1971), p. 457.
34 U.S. Office of the Secretary of Defense, National Defense Strategy, pp. 15–16.
35 U.S. Department of Defense, Quadrennial Defense Review, February 2010, pp. 26–30, U.S.
Defense Department website, at www.defense.gov/qdr/images/QDR_as_of_12Feb10_1000.pdf.
36 Barry Posen, ‘Command of the Commons: The Military Foundation of U.S. Hegemony’,
International Security, 28(1) (Summer 2003): 5–46.
 Chapter 9
Non-State Threats to India’s Maritime Security:
Sailing Deeper into an Era of Violent Peace
Nitin Pai

The broadest definition of non-state threats to maritime security would

include all threats to India’s national interests emanating from non-state
entities from the maritime domain. These would include both anthropogenic
(arising from human activity) and non-anthropogenic threats to India’s
survival, security and development.
Such a definition encompasses threats at sea, threats to land and air,
threats to domestic and international order and threats to the environment.
The inclusion of threats to international order and the environment in this
definition suggests that at the broadest level, such threats transcend national
boundaries. This calls for a cooperative international response. It also
indicates, however, the opposite: that if international cooperation is non-
existent or hard to obtain, to the extent that a threat to the global commons
affects an individual state’s security, it is in its interests to act unilaterally if
necessary.
The broad definition is most useful in the context of discussions on
national maritime strategy. In the specific context of implications for the
Indian Navy, this chapter confines itself to a narrower definition focusing
on non-state threats that involve human agency at some point in their causal
chain. It emphasizes threats that involve the use or potential of violence.
Broader non-anthropogenic and non-violent aspects, where they are
relevant, are incorporated into the analysis.
In general, non-state threats need not necessarily be expressed through
(human) non-state actors. Yet perhaps barring natural disasters that strike
Indian interests directly, most non-state threats involve a degree of human
agency. For this reason, the following analysis concentrates on scrutinizing
non-state actors: the roots of their origin, the nature of the threats they pose
and how India might address them.
This chapter begins with an investigation of the origins of non-state
actors. The second section analyses how these threats manifest themselves,
and offers a brief, overall assessment of what these threats imply for India’s
maritime security. The concluding section explores how India could address
such threats and identifies high-level changes necessary for the Indian Navy
to be able competently to address non-state threats.

What Causes Non-State Threats to Maritime Security?

It is possible to identify five sets of underlying causes that work in

combination: state-related factors, those arising from the international
system, from the political economy, from ideology, and finally from nature.
While the origins of non-state actors are complex and attributable to
multiple reasons, for a given group or type, some factors are more
instrumental than others. Correctly identifying the causal factors and causal
chain is important, for it allows us to address the problem as close to the
source as possible.

State-Related Causes

Non-state threats could originate from state policy, state incompetence, state
fragility and state failure.

State policy The first of these is particularly relevant to India’s security

context, given Pakistan’s use of terrorism and militancy as a strategic
instrument of its policy. Ordinarily, the use of non-state actors is
inexpensive and offers plausible deniability to the sponsoring state. Where
the sponsoring state is able to deter punitive retaliation against it, however,
the use of non-state actors to pursue foreign policy ambitions becomes even
more attractive.1
Even if the Pakistan’s military leadership did not actually instigate the 26
November 2008 attacks (26/11) on Mumbai, they would not be wrong in
concluding that their nuclear arsenal would deter punitive Indian military
strikes in response to such a provocative amphibious terrorist raid. Chinese
fishing trawlers which enter into confrontation with naval and merchant
ships of other East Asian states might escape unpunished, given the latter’s
reluctance to lock horns with a much stronger power. The two examples
highlight two different uses of state-supported non-state actors. Pakistan
uses its non-state actors to conduct offensive proxy war. China’s fishing
boats act as tripwires to stake, remind or enforce its territorial claims vis-à-
vis other claimants.

State incompetence Non-state actors can also arise out of a state’s lack of
competence in governing its territory. The Indonesian government’s
inability to police its vast shores in the late 1990s, for instance, contributed
to the rise in piracy in the Straits of Malacca region. The threat abated after
Indonesia scaled up patrols and coastal management in concert with its
neighbours, Malaysia and Singapore.2 Similarly, the Philippines’
government continues to struggle with establishing its order over its
southern islands, where a number of criminal and insurgent groups operate.
While complicity of some government officials cannot be ruled out in such
cases, it can be said with some confidence that it is the state’s inability that
allows non-state actors to operate, rather than deliberate policy. It is not
unusual though to see states that do use non-state actors deliberately take
positions suggesting that they are unable to prevent or punish them.

State fragility and failure Fragile states, those in the throes of civil war or
undergoing political upheavals also throw up non-state actors who might
threaten other countries. The Sea Tigers, the naval wing of the Liberation
Tigers of the Tamil Eelam (LTTE), were raised both to fight the Sri Lankan
navy as well as to secure commercial and arms shipments to the quasi-state
that the group had established in the northern and eastern parts of the island.
Equipped with light fiberglass boats with small arms, with crews including
suicide-bombers and naval divers, and operating merchant vessels under
various fronts, the Sea Tigers had acquired the capabilities to threaten
India’s maritime security before they were neutralized by the Sri Lankan
armed forces.3
Similarly, mercenary elements of another Sri Lankan Tamil militant
group were recruited by a Maldivian smuggler-turned-rebel in 1988 for a
coup d’état in the Maldives against President Maumoon Abdul Gayoom’s
government. Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi ordered an Indian military
intervention, upon President Gayoom’s entreaties, that frustrated the coup
attempt and arrested the mercenaries who had attempted to flee the scene in
a hijacked merchant vessel, carrying hostages.4
On the other end of the spectrum, fragile states are often the source of
refugees and asylum seekers, who might use the sea to escape the violence
back home. Now the issue of victims fleeing civil strife is principally a
humanitarian one. However, there is also a security dimension to it.
Terrorists, combatants and war criminals might escape in the guise of
refugees. There is a risk that human trafficking syndicates are involved.
Finally, the receiving state might fear social unrest due to a sudden influx of
a large number of refugees.
As a state moves from fragility to failure, the increasing anarchy implies
that the difference between a state and non-state actors becomes largely one
of international recognition. In conditions of state failure, a number of
competing non-state actors acquire political and military power, some of
whom might project it externally. The pirates currently infesting the Gulf of
Aden are children of the Somalian civil war that has been raging since the
early 1990s. The growth in their numbers, however, is an effect of the
failure of the Somalian state – there being no authority, institution or
capability on shore to address the problem.
The threat from non-state actors is essentially a negative externality of
state failure, and the likelihood of its spillover is greater in accessible, but
ungoverned, spaces. The global commons – the maritime domain and
cyberspace – are both accessible and ungoverned and have witnessed such
spillovers in contemporary times.

International System-Related Causes

Non-state actors also arise from the dynamics of interaction between states,
international regimes and norms. The policies of one country, a group of
countries or the entire international community can create incentives for
non-state actors to emerge in other countries. The international system sets
up causal pathways for the emergence, popular support and influence of
non-state actors in three ways: by creating rights, grievances and
responsibilities.

Rights One major development of international maritime law in the last 100
years is the expansion of the limits of the territorial sea, and more recently,
the concept of an Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ). While there are sound
reasons why the international regime governing the seas has evolved in this
way, it has also created new rights and entitlements that did not previously
exist. Coastal states seek to enforce their rights on their territorial waters
and the EEZ, prevent encroachment by other states and, in some cases,
attempt to extend their maritime territories.
Coastal states sometimes use non-state actors to pursue these goals. The
example of Chinese fishing vessels has already been cited. Whether or not
the fishermen have official sanction from the Chinese authorities, their
activities – which include tangling with Japanese and Vietnamese naval
vessels,5 occupying island features in disputed territories or merely being
present in waters China considers its own -allow Beijing a low-cost, low-
risk option to bolster its official positions.
It is possible for non-state actors to press claims even in the absence of
explicit or tacit support from the coastal state. Poaching by Asian and
European fishing fleets in Somalia’s EEZ, amounting to $300 million in
revenues annually,6 instigated the formation of armed vigilante groups on
the coast. Groups such as the Somali National Volunteer Coast Guard and
the Puntland Coast Guard started off with the ostensible goal of preventing
illegal fishing and dumping of toxic waste.7 Such a mission would no doubt
have a degree of popularity and legitimacy among the coastal communities,
allowing these groups to build support structures. The jump to piracy,
hijacking and kidnapping for ransom came next. While we cannot conclude
that the vigilantism is the only reason for Somalian piracy, it stands to
reason that it is a contributing factor.

Grievances International politics often creates international grievances

which then get socialized among ‘imagined communities’8 across political
borders. This is not a new phenomenon. Merely in the last century,
anarchist, fascist, Communist, ethnic and religious fundamentalist groups
have risen in response to real and perceived hurt caused to their real and
perceived fellows elsewhere in the world. In combination with some
ideologies – Communism and radical Islam – grievance-driven groups have
had a propensity to refute, and therefore transcend, international political
boundaries. Given the march of globalization and the communications
revolution since the 1990s, grievance-driven mobilization of non-state
actors is likely to increase in the twenty-first century.
 The imagined communities of yesteryears formed around religion,
ethnicity or economic ideologies. The imagined communities of the future
can form around any emotive issue, even on what might common appear
trivial or esoteric. As seen in the series of public protest in the ‘Arab
Spring’ of 2011, groups can be mobilized at short notice using information
technology, without the need for mid-level leaders that once used to be
necessary. It is difficult to predict what groups will form in the future, and
what grievances might animate them, but it is conceivable that some of
them will take their activism to the sea.

Responsibilities While most international regimes impose responsibilities

on states or institutions that have states as members, non-state actors can
sometimes interpret these as being applicable to them. For instance, the UN
World Charter for Nature, adopted by the UN General Assembly in 1982,
lays out ‘principles of conservation by which all human conduct affecting
nature is to be guided’.9 While it primarily obligates states, it also calls upon
‘to the extent they are able, other public authorities international
organizations, individuals, groups and corporations’. Its final clause goes
further declaring that ‘each person has a duty to act in accordance with the
provisions of the present Charter; acting individually, in association with
others or through participation in the political process …’.
The Sea Shepherd Conservation Society, an international maritime
wildlife conservation organization, that this charter mandates it to ‘assume a
law enforcement role’10 against fishing, whaling and seal-hunting using
aggressive methods such as ramming into vessels, destroying nets, scuttling
whaling ships, disrupting Canadian seal hunts, using laser devices and foul-
smelling chemicals against other ships. Although it claims to adhere ‘to the
utilization of non-violent principles’ some government officials and
fishermen’s unions have accused it of carrying out ‘eco-terrorism’.11 The
Society – which operates three vessels – justifies its actions under the UN
World Charter for Nature and 10 other international conventions, including
UNCLOS.
Similarly, Greenpeace, a more famous international environmentalist
organization, operates three ocean-going ships with activist crew members.
In 1985, the French government bombed its ‘flagship’ in Auckland harbour
to preempt it from leading a flotilla against nuclear testing in the Southern
Pacific.
 More recently, in 2010, a number of international NGOs joined a
‘Freedom Flotilla’ organized by the Free Gaza Movement and IHH –
Humanitarian Relief Foundation – to bust the Israeli blockade of Gaza. In
response, Israeli security forces landed on the lead vessel, leading to
violence that claimed 10 lives. The flotilla’s organizers claimed legitimacy
for their actions under humanitarian norms, if not international law.12
We need not place a value judgement on their actions or their
appropriateness under international environmental and human rights
regimes to note that such non-state actors do threaten the maritime interests
of a country. Again, to the extent that these methods are successful and
popular, they can be adopted by activist groups in India’s maritime
neighbourhood, and indeed, against India.

Political Economy

At the root of the third factor giving rise to non-state actors are the
unintended consequences of the economic policies of a state, or a group of
states. The preceding sections largely concerned political factors. What
distinguishes political economy factors from those discussed above is that
the actors it results in originate and, at least initially, are primarily
concerned with exploiting economic opportunities that arise from a state’s
policies. The popular term to characterize the unlawful activities that arise
from the political economy is ‘smuggling’, a term that often describes
patterns of trade that have existed long before the laws that made them
unlawful. The term smuggling encompasses activities arising from three
different unintended consequences of economic policy: exploiting the
opportunities created by restrictions on imports or exports, exploiting the
opportunities created by regulatory shortcomings, and arbitraging
differences in living conditions across geographies. These, in addition to the
establishment of conflict economies, are the four major ways in which the
political economy creates non-state actors.

Restrictions on imports and exports

In 1944, (Mastan Haider Mirza) joined the Bombay docks as a coolie – his job was to unload
huge boxes and containers of ships coming from Aden, Dubai, Hong Kong and other cities.
The British levied import duty on the goods that came in and there was a good margin to be
made if this could be evaded. In those days, Philips transistors and imported watches were a
rage in Mumbai. Around that time, he met a man named Shaikh Mohammed Al Ghalib, an
 Arab by descent. Ghalib was looking for someone who was willing to help and support him do
exactly the same.

Soon after independence, smuggling on a big scale was unheard of. There were petty
smugglers dabbling in permissible quantities, which back then used to be six watches, two gold
biscuits, four Philips transistors, and so on. The Arab told Mastan that being a coolie, it would
be easy for him to tuck a couple of biscuits in his headband, stash a few watches in his
underwear or a couple of transistors in his jhola. The Arab promised a good reward, and they
were in business.

In 1950, Morarji Desai, the chief minister of the then Bombay Presidency, imposed prohibition
on liquor and other items. With such impositions in the state, the mafia of the time saw an
opportunity to rake in more profits through smuggling.13

This passage vividly demonstrates the birth of the smuggler of popular

imagination. As India closed itself to international trade through the self-
imposed policies of import substitution and the licence-permit raj, the
number of commodities that could not be freely or easily imported
increased to such an extent that there were profit-making opportunities in
smuggling everything from gold bars to video-cassette recorders and
children’s toys. The economic reforms since 1991 undermined many of
these opportunities but the smuggling networks often remained intact,
moving to other goods like narcotics, illegal arms and counterfeit currency.
Similarly export restrictions on endangered species, natural resources
and agricultural commodities continues to sustain criminal activities, which
find egress through villages and towns along India’s extensive coastlines.

Regulatory shortcomings
Despite the (Karnataka) State Government’s claims that export of iron ore has been banned in
the State, illegal mining and export of iron ore is going on in Karnataka. If not through the
West Coast, it is being carried out through the East Coast’, Lokayukta Santosh N. Hedge said.

’Earlier, exports were done from Mangalore port, Karwar, Bilikere and Goa. There are some
restrictions now from these areas. But iron ore is going now through Hagari border, to
Visakhapatnam, Kakinada and Krishnapatnam in Andhra Pradesh’, he asserted. Stating that he
had suggested a ban on export of iron ore in his first report on mining submitted to the
Government in 2008, Mr Hegde said: ‘Mining is of no use to the Government. The royalty that
the Government earns through mining does not meet even 10 per cent of the expenses incurred
on repair of the roads there’.

While mine owners paid Rs. 27 per tonne of 64 FE grade and Rs. 17 per tonne of lower grade
iron ore, they sold it for Rs. 5,000 to Rs. 6,000 per tonne. They made profits by destroying
environment and disturbing the peace of human beings as well as wild life, he said.14
In this case, whatever might be the motivations for the government to ban
the export of iron ore, it is evident that it lacked the machinery to
implement it effectively. Not only does this criminalize an economic
activity that involved legitimate individuals and organizations, it creates
incentives for criminal actors to step into the trade. From the security
perspective, this broadens the economic base of non-state actors, increasing
their power and reach.

Arbitrage opportunities Differences in political, socioeconomic and legal

conditions among countries result in arbitrage opportunities, which can then
be exploited by organized criminal networks. These differences create
incentives for the smuggling of narcotics, arms, natural resources, animals
and humans across borders. While smuggling itself is an issue of political
economy and will be dealt with in the next section, let us consider
facilitated illegal immigration and human trafficking here, as it illustrates
the point.
According to Europol, ‘increasing control of external borders, the
introduction of higher quality travel documents and other protective
measures implemented by destination countries are making illegal
immigration more difficult for individual migrants, forcing them to seek the
services of organized crime groups’.15 Such groups facilitate illegal
immigration from countries of North and West Africa, the Middle East, the
Indian subcontinent and China.
In a majority of cases, ‘boat people’ themselves arrive in desperate
conditions at tremendous risk to their lives and generally fall under
humanitarian considerations. However, the size of the immigrant flows can
introduce a national security dimension. After all, India had to go to war (in
East Pakistan in 1971) citing unmanageable refugee flows as the reason.
Some contexts can involve violence: would-be illegal immigrants from
West Africa attacked a Spanish patrol boat with Molotov cocktails, pikes
and sharp tools.16
India has the experience of Sri Lankan Tamil refugees arriving by boat
after fleeing the civil war on the island. Given the deep loci of instability in
India’s immediate neighbourhood, refugee arrival by sea remains a risk.
Furthermore, as India’s development process improves its standard of living
relative to the region, the arrival of economic immigrants is also a distinct
possibility. Local or international criminal syndicates can make use of the
emerging arbitrage opportunities, thereby posing new risks to India’s
maritime security.

Conflict economy Once political unrest, violence and armed conflict –

between states or within a state – emerge, the risk of a conflict economy
developing around it grows with time. In a conflict economy, vested
interests develop among combatants, populations and external parties to
prolong the conflict rather than bring it to an end.
Insurgencies provide incomes for militants, financed either by external
actors or through extorting from the population. Militants who lack
education, skills and competence to take on jobs with the same levels of pay
and status have fewer incentives to end the conflict. Troops and
organizisations engaged in counter-insurgency develop incentives to prefer
stalemates than a total end to conflict, not least because they face budgetary
cutbacks and fewer career opportunities. Businesses in conflict theatres
come to depend on supplying combatants, often at a premium, and risk
losing their market positions to new competitors in the event of peace.
Mediating international institutions and NGOs face redundancies or
budgetary cutbacks as the conflict draws to an end.
The piracy economy extends beyond the theatre where attacks occur.17 It
has been noted that ‘the systems of ransom has emerged as a lucrative
business model with both insurance companies and the pirates making a
neat sum at the expense of the end consumer’.18 According to this estimate,
around $80 million in ransom was paid in 2010, while insurance companies
earned between $500 million to $1 billion in surcharges. A stock exchange
has been established in the Somalian town of Haradheere allowing
individuals to purchase ‘shares’ in the hijacking business.19
This is not to argue that such incentives create a conspiracy to sustain the
conflict, but rather that conflicts can lead to a convergence of interests
among factions that wish to perpetuate it. Cynical though this might appear,
given the persistence of some violent conflicts within India, and a number
of them in India’s immediate neighbourhood, it is important not to discount
the risk conflict economy poses to India’s security. The Indian Ocean rim
hosts a number of long-running conflicts, with actors often having easy
access to the sea.

Ideology
The twentieth century witnessed a number of non-state actors driven by
ideology, with those driven by Nationalism, Communism and radical Islam
occupying the centre-stage internationally. Nationalist movements ebbed
with the formation of post-colonial states although many remain active, not
least in India’s neighbourhood. Revolutionary Communists are a spent force
worldwide, except in India, Nepal and small pockets in some Latin
American countries.
Radical Islam, which has an inherently trans-national appeal, support
and ambition, on the other hand, currently inspires a number of non-states
actors around the world. The proliferation of the Internet and mobile
telephony has allowed al-Qaeda to inspire many radical groups around the
world. State support, media coverage, financial contribution from
sympathetic communities in the Persian Gulf states, ease of travel,
socialization of terrorist methods and the availability of a number of real
and imagined grievances suggest that non-state actors inspired by the
ideology of radical Islam will remain a significant security threat to India.
The radicalization of Muslim communities in India and its neighbourhood
is a phenomenon that is yet to play itself out.
What kind of new ideology-driven non-state actors might emerge in the
twenty-first century? To the extent that environmentalism has taken on an
ideological, rather than empirical, bent, it is conceivable that its radicals
will challenge state power out of their conviction. The relative moderation
of Greenpeace and even the Sea Shepherd Society might give way to
radical groups that reject international norms, instead of trying to influence
them.
Similarly, it is entirely possible that groups motivated by international
morality and righteousness – human rights, for instance – acquire the
wherewithal to challenge state authority, using, but not limited to, ‘civil
disobedience’ as a method. Again, we need not place a value judgement on
the cause itself to recognize that the technology to mobilize activists and to
mount maritime campaigns has already been demonstrated, most recently in
the case of the ‘freedom flotilla’ in the Mediterranean Sea.

Nature

As discussed earlier, nature can be both a non-state threat in and of itself, as

well as create non-state actors who then go on to threaten a state’s maritime
security. A discussion on the former is beyond the scope of this chapter.
However, it is germane to consider how the latter affect India’s security.
The principal way nature creates non-state actors is through the effect of
natural disasters and extreme climatic events. We have already discussed
refugee crises, which are humanitarian issues that nevertheless affect
national security. That said, the pressure nature exerts on populations can
also take the shape of encroachment, illegal occupation and outright
demographic invasion. India’s vulnerability to the latter is as much due to
geography (outlying, sparsely inhabited islands and long coastlines) as to its
body politic (democracy, ethnic and religious diversity).
If the predictions of climate change turn out to be accurate, then the
resulting climatic effects have the potential to exacerbate existing conflicts
in India’s maritime neighbourhood. It might even create new ones.20
Conflict systems in East Africa, the Persian Gulf, Pakistan’s Baluchistan
and Sindh provinces, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Myanmar, Thailand and
Indonesia involve non-state actors. Forces of nature might cause their
activities to spill over to India’s maritime domains, if not onto Indian
territory. As with natural disasters, rising sea levels might well trigger mass-
migration to India or through its maritime space.

Causal Pathways

The complex interplay of one or more of these causal factors results in the
emergence of a non-state actor, offers it a cause and equips it with
capabilities, support and sometimes even a certain international legitimacy
in its activities. To briefly illustrate how, let us consider the 26/11 attackers.

State connivance The 26/11 attacks were carried out by terrorists belonging
to the Lashkar-e-Taiba, with Pakistani intelligence operatives involved in
planning, training and perhaps even carrying out the plot.21 Whether or not
the specific operation had the approval of Pakistani’s top military
leadership, the Lashkar-e-Taiba itself is part of the military-jihadi complex,
constituting state support for the jihadi group. The weakness of the
Pakistani state resulted in its being incapable of preventing the attack, and
indeed of investigating and prosecuting the suspects.
Ideology and grievances The Lashkar-e-Taiba has several grievances from
the international system, arising both from its radical Islamist ideology and
its subscription to the worldview of the Pakistani military establishment. It
is animated by Indian rule over what it considers the Muslim land of
Kashmir, by its perceptions of the ill-treatment of Muslims in India and by
India’s very existence. Both the Pakistani government and its militant
groups often cite UN resolutions on the Kashmir dispute, selectively
focusing on India’s failure to implement a promised plebiscite, to seek
legitimacy for their actions.

Political economy The organized crime syndicate led by Dawood Ibrahim,

an Indian fugitive believed to be operating from Pakistan, provided
logistical support for the 26/11 attackers. According to a media report,
‘there is even a strong suspicion that M V Kuber, the fishing dhow that was
used by terrorists on 26/11, was misused for offloading oil smuggled from
Iraq en-route Karachi to be sold in the cities of western India, including
Mumbai’.22 The report goes on to say that:
these oil mafia syndicates control the entire operations from Karachi and Dawood Ibrahim’s
well-knit criminal network at port towns in Gujarat. Mumbai is utilized to offload oil smuggled
from Iraq in mid sea and sell it in the local market. There is a suspicion that a part of the
smuggled oil-tainted money is utilized for funding terrorism and providing logistic support to
terror suspects visiting Mumbai, said an (Intelligence Bureau) official. Intelligence wings, like
the Marine Preventive Wing of the Customs, have launched crackdowns in the past. However,
customs officials admit that the seizures made by the authorities are only the tip of the iceberg.

This reveals that the economic factors related to India’s crude oil market as
well as the international arbitrage opportunity arising from the war in Iraq
created the conditions for the 26/11 attack to take place successfully.
Even this brief analysis shows that preventing an 26/11-like attack
requires simultaneous action on multiple domestic and international fronts,
beyond what might appear to be purely ‘national security’ matters. A
thorough analysis of this mesh of relationships can identify potential
pathways for non-state threats to actualize.

How Do Non-State Threats Manifest Themselves?

The treat from non-state actors can be seen in the form of a matrix,
encompassing threats at sea, threats to land and air, threats to law and order,
and threats to the environment. These threats could take the form of
isolated, coordinated or strategic actions that impinge on India’s maritime
interests.

Threats at Sea

Pirates in international waters, illegal fishing syndicates in the EEZ and

smuggling networks operating in territorial waters remain current problems.
All three threaten India’s maritime economic interests.23

Piracy Piracy imposes risks (and hence costs) on India’s trade which in turn
affects overall economic competitiveness. To the extent that such risks are
not spread evenly among India and its economic competitors, it might lead
to relative losses (or gains) vis-à-vis the competition. In absolute terms,
however, piracy is a loss, constituting a net transfer of wealth out of the
Indian economy.24 The magnitude of the threat from piracy in the Indian
Ocean region is growing but is not large enough to make a geo-economic
difference to India. It may not even affect India any more than it affects
China and other Asian economies.
Piracy also poses risks to the lives and property of India’s citizens,
making it imperative for the Indian government to act to secure them. It is
incumbent on the Indian state to protect its citizens from harm, within and
outside its borders. It is also incumbent upon it to protect ships registered in
India. These are fundamental duties of the Indian state regardless of
magnitude of the economic stakes involved.

Illegal fishing and trafficking Illegal fishing and exploitation of marine

resources are also net outward transfers of India’s national assets.
Smuggling in narcotics, weapons and counterfeit currency creates risks to
internal security and domestic order. It also enlarges the criminal economy
which can be used by non-state actors with other motives, such as terrorists.

Maritime terrorism The future comes with increased risks of terrorism at

sea and from the sea. In addition to attacks on Indian shipping, terrorists can
target submarine cables and pipelines. To the extent that terrorism is theatre,
the effect of damaging cables and pipelines can be dramatic. Undersea cable
capacity has seen a 100-fold expansion over the last two decades, and a
cable cut at a strategic location can cripple communications for extended
periods of time. India has access to several submarine cables, so a total
blackout is extremely hard to achieve, but even a single cable cut can wreak
significant economic damage, and thereby achieve terrorist objectives.
As the Sea Tigers have shown, technological developments have made it
possible for even a small group to acquire asymmetric capabilities at
relative modest costs. Fast boats, global positioning system (GPS)
navigation, inexpensive maps and charts are today within easy reach. Small
arms have long been easy to acquire in large numbers. Somali pirates have
used rockets in some attacks.
In the coming decades, short-range missile capability might not be
beyond the means of non-state actors. During the 2006 war between Israel
and the Hezbollah, the latter used an Iranian-made C-802 cruise missile
against an Israeli ship off the Lebanese coast, showing a non-state actor
demonstrating coast-based anti-ship missile capability.25

Threats to Land and Air

Land attacks Smugglers, terrorists and pirates have repeatedly shown that
they can land on Indian soil unchecked. In February 1993, Dawood
Ibrahim’s criminal syndicate landed arms, ammunition and explosives at
Shekhadi, a seaside village in Maharashtra’s Raigad district.26 The
consignment was used to carry out a series of 13 bomb blasts in Mumbai a
month later. In November 2008, the Lashkar-e-Taiba carried out an
amphibious attack on the city, landing 10 men in inflatable speedboats at
two locations in Colaba.27 These are only the high-profile instances of non-
state actors using the sea route to land on mainland Indian soil to carry out
illegal activities. In June 2011, for instance, 32 foreign nationals – including
Somalis and Yemenis – were discovered in port towns of coastal Gujarat,
showing that they had breached the coastal security.28 The foiled coup in
Maldives in 1988 and Sea Tiger operations over the last decade remind us
that the sea remains an important theatre for militant activity in India’s
immediate neighbourhood.
The coming decades might see an increased flow of refugees – either
fleeing violence or climate-related disasters – using the sea route, either
transiting to third countries or headed for India.
Air vulnerability Might some militant groups acquire the capability to
attack aircraft? The capability might already exist today with man-portable
air defence systems (MANPADS) in the hands of some militant groups. At
the same time economic growth is increases air traffic in India’s coastal
cities. Depending on their flight path, aircraft taking off or landing in
coastal airports are vulnerable to anti-aircraft missiles fired from offshore
terrorist vessels.

Threats to Law and Order

If smuggling networks undermine law and order by expanding the criminal

economy, domestic and international NGOs can do so by challenging the
writ of the state at sea. Whether cast as non-violent maritime civil
disobedience as in the case of the ‘Freedom Flotilla’ or direct action by
environmental groups, these activities confront legitimate decisions by state
authorities. If the state surrenders to coercion it risks attracting more such
challenges, setting off a process that might lead to an overall decline in law
and order. On the other hand, the use of even calibrated force to face down
such challenges can be exploited by the non-state actors through
information operations, using international media.
India, with its long and frequently misapplied tradition of civil
disobedience, has witnessed protests at sea. For instance, in August 2005:
about 1,500 fishermen and activists from all over (Tamil Nadu) gathered at the fishing hamlet
of Arcottuthurai, near Point Calimere, and tried to block the (vessel dredging of the sea-bed for
the Sethusamudram Ship Canal Project) with fishing boats. The situation turned tense with
several hundred policemen forming a human wall on the shore to prevent the fishermen from
getting onto the boats. Coast Guard vessels were also pressed into service … The fishermen
plan to blockade the Tuticorin harbour with their boats once the global tenders for the
execution of the SSCP are opened. They also plan to gherao ships to protest against the
Tuticorin Inner Harbour Project.29

There is always a risk that civil disobedience will end up in a violent

confrontation. Miscalculation or mischief frequently trigger the dynamics of
escalation.

Threats to the Environment

Why does the environment constitute India’s vital national interest? First, it
is not dissimilar to land and ocean territory, except that its boundaries
cannot be as well-demarcated. Second, it is also intimately connected to
human security, impacting lives and well-being of India’s citizens. Third,
like other global commons, positive and negative externalities from it affect
India’s economy, society and security. So an enlightened conception of
India’s self-interest will see threats to the environment as threats to India’s
security.
Population and growth pressures are likely to intensify the risk of illegal
dumping of hazardous waste at or close to the sea. The ordinary variety of
illegal dumping usually has an economic motive, with unscrupulous firms
engaging in the activity to avoid the costs of waste disposal. Cases of
disposal of industrial waste from construction, chemical and other
industries have long been recorded in India’s coastal states. A few cases of
foreign ships deliberately discharging hazardous waste into India’s EEZ or
territorial waters have also been recorded. While the involvement of
organized non-state actors is not noticeable at this time, economic pressures
might exacerbate the risk of a political economy developing around illegal
dumping.
The more sinister form of illegal dumping involves terrorists causing an
environmental disaster either by dumping hazardous cargo or by attacking
ships carrying such cargo. Such threats have been recorded in the Straits of
Malacca, a known ‘choke point’ of international shipping routes.30 If carried
out, such an attack would not only disrupt shipping, ports and hence global
supply chains, it would cause grievous damage to marine ecosystems.

Isolated, Coordinated and Strategic Acts

It is useful to transpose the above threats from the manner in which they are
expressed: as isolated, coordinated or strategic acts. Such a classification
assists us in identifying the general methods of addressing them.

Isolated Isolated acts by individuals or groups are limited in time and space,
ranging from one-off acts to multiple strikes over a short time. From a
strategic viewpoint, attacks by Somali pirates, for instance, are isolated acts,
even if they are conducted routinely. There is no coordination beyond what
is required to carry of that particular act.
Coordinated Coordinated acts are those that are carried out across either
time or space, to achieve a higher level objective. Consider, specifically, the
26/11 attacks. They involved two inflatable landing craft with multiple
teams of attackers who targeted planned locations across Mumbai.
Coordinated attacks require greater planning, capabilities, resources and
management skills, and usually suggest some form of geopolitical intent.
This makes them more vulnerable to detection and penetration by law-
enforcement/intelligence agencies, but should they succeed, lead to much
greater damage and political impact.

Strategic Strategic acts are those that involve a combination of isolated and
coordinated attacks in a pattern specifically designed to achieve a
substantive geopolitical objective. In other words, they are ‘politics by other
means’. These are unlikely to be restricted to the maritime domain. Rather,
the maritime domain is just one theatre in a wider contest. Pakistan’s proxy
war against India, using a variety of non-state actors on land and sea, over
time, using a wide range of tactics, would be a good example. In fact, so
deep is Pakistan’s reliance on non-state actors, so long is its history and so
broad its scope, it can be concluded that asymmetrical proxy war using
state-supported non-state actors is Pakistan’s grand strategy.
The Sea Shepherd Society’s anti-whaling campaigns are another
example of strategic acts. It has engaged in direct action against whaling
over the last three decades. Since 2003, it has been on a continuous
campaign against Japanese whaling fleets, causing obstruction, collisions,
scuffles and using the international media for information operations.
To the extent that conservation and environmentalism affect international
relations and national sovereignty, they constitute geopolitics. The use of
metaphors like ‘Whale Wars’ or ‘Divine Wind’ (Kamikaze) to describe its
operations are not entirely hyperbole. According to Paul Watson, the Sea
Shepherds’ founder, ‘No matter how prolonged the effort, how dangerous
the risks, or the sacrifices we need to make. We have pledged our lives and
freedom to ending this slaughter, and we will achieve this noble objective,
or we will die trying’.31

Assessment
An inventory of the threats posed by non-state actors suggests that none of
them challenges the Indian Navy’s ‘hard power’. It is difficult to construct
scenarios where the Indian Navy is incapable of handling even strategic acts
by non-state actors.
The danger, however, lies not so much in inability to win direct naval
contests. Rather, it lies in non-state threats blunting its fighting edge,
sapping morale, weakening resolve and exposing naval personnel to moral
dilemmas and dubious political economies.
The self-image of many of the world’s navies, including India’s, is as a
fighter of naval wars, often preparing for Mahanian decisive sea battles in
the blue-water oceans. Maritime security and dealing with non-state actors
is (rightly) seen as a constabulary role that sits uneasily with organizational
culture, processes and indeed career aspirations of naval personnel. It is
reasonable to argue that, for a given resource base, investment in training
and skills in one area comes at the expense of another. Allocating naval
resources for constabulary duties does come at the cost of preparing them
for conventional naval warfare. If the Indian Navy is assigned maritime
security duties without adequate planning in terms of resources, without
defining its mandate, roles and missions, it is possible that the resultant drift
will undermine its primary role.
Furthermore, the rules of engagement that apply to classical naval
engagements are seldom clear cut in maritime security operations involving
non-state actors. Managing civil disobedience on the high seas, with a mix
of civilian non-combatants, civilian activists and potentially violent
elements under the glare of the world’s media is an entirely different
operational environment compared to what the Indian Navy generally trains
its officers for. Unless well-managed, moral dilemmas risk creating
cognitive dissonance, affecting morale, discipline and professionalism.
Worse, where political economy factors like smuggling networks are
involved, the risk of naval personnel getting entangled in criminal
enterprises cannot be ignored.
The Coast Guard, coastal police forces and intelligence agencies are
familiar with some non-state threats; for instance, smuggling, illegal
dumping, infiltration and encroachment have long been issues they have
had to handle. The salience of the coastal and territorial space is likely to
increase through the next decade, as the regional risk environment throws
up non-state actors ranging from terrorists, people smugglers,
environmental groups to refugees. The capacity, competency and
coordination of coastal and littoral security management could come under
serious challenge.

How Might These Threats Be Addressed

The Indian Maritime Military Strategy document identifies ‘an era of

violent peace’ as its first determinant before going on expound on strategies
during peace and conflict.32 The document outlines the Indian Navy’s
constabulary role, comprising low-intensity maritime operations and
maintenance of good order at sea (through anti-terrorism, anti-piracy and
anti-trafficking operations). The Indian Navy is also given a ‘benign role’,
involving humanitarian operations, non-combatant evacuations,
hydrography, maritime consciousness and strategic communications.
However, much of the emphasis of the document is on ‘preparing for a
possible conflict whilst maintaining a deterrent posture that ensures peace’.
As we sail deeper into the era of violent peace, the maritime military
strategy needs to be updated.

Doctrinal Changes

Stages of conflict The distinction between peace and war is no longer well-
defined, challenging concepts like ‘peacetime’ and ‘wartime’ roles. Even as
conventional and nuclear deterrence creates severe disincentives for an
interstate war, paradoxically, there is a heightened risk of ‘war by non-state
actors’. Consequently, a future revision of India’s maritime military strategy
must analyse the implications of such an era of violent peace in greater
depth. It is necessary to prepare and develop strategies for a range of
environments determined by the level of violence.

Overseas military deployment policy Securing the global commons and

India’s interests therein must be seen as a more important focus of India’s
maritime doctrine. In this regard, should India ‘initiate actions unilaterally
in (its) own interest, or … deliberate collectively, and then act jointly for the
common good of humanity?’ 33 Instead of seeing this question as a
dilemma, it is useful to reframe the question as ‘under what circumstances
and for what purposes would India act unilaterally, and where would it
choose the multilateral route?’ Such a debate is yet to take place, especially
among India’s political leadership circles, as can be seen from repetitive
references to UN resolutions as the only basis for overseas military
deployments. The non-state threat creates an imperative for prompt,
unilateral action within India’s maritime domain, in international waters or
indeed in the waters of other states. Making India’s response contingent on
the United Nations is no longer tenable, if indeed it ever was.

Capacity and culture The Indian Navy’s organizational culture, mindset and
capacities must evolve such that the constabulary role is seen as a core
function of the Navy. This need not mean allocating war-fighting assets like
frigates and destroyers for maritime security operations. Rather, it requires
acquiring the most suitable assets for such roles. Fast patrol boats, even
commercial vessels armed with adequate firepower, troops and
professionals can serve the requirements of anti-piracy and anti-trafficking
missions. Adding such capabilities to a blue-water navy without losing
effectiveness in either role requires attention to organizational and
management practices.

Strategies

This chapter has attempted to show that the causal pathways and
manifestations of non-state threats transcend the maritime domain.
Addressing them requires a well-coordinated response involving the armed
forces, intelligence agencies, law-enforcement agencies, diplomats,
disaster-management professionals and so on. There are four broad
approaches to tackling non-state actors: deterrence, preemption,
safeguarding and flexible response.

Deterrence The primary strategic objective should be to deter non-state

actors from posing a threat. This can be substantially achieved – especially
against isolated acts – by acquiring a reputation for rigorous enforcement of
good order at sea, and for robust prosecution and punishment of culprits.
While the first part is a matter for the Indian Navy, Coast Guard and coastal
police, the second involves judicial frameworks and efficiency of
administering justice. Economic reforms that liberalize more sectors, clarity
and simplification of rules and regulations can unwind criminal networks
by eliminating their raison d’être.
Pre-emption Efficient policing of the seas and law enforcement on shore is
unlikely to deter state-sponsored, cause-driven, ideological or other deeply
motivated actors. These are also the types more likely to engage in
coordinated acts of the type described above. Pre-emptive strategies could
be considered to frustrate such actors. Pre-emption requires in-depth
knowledge of causal pathways, timely intelligence about their plans and
adequate control over territories in which the pre-emption is carried out.
While the chances of successful pre-emption are lower for terrorist attacks,
piracy and civil disobedience stand a higher chance. Israel’s attempts to
prevent activists from mobilizing the second freedom flotilla, using a
variety of tactics ranging from persuading other governments to prevent
vessels from sailing, to arresting mariners and deporting activists, might
have averted a repeat of the confrontation that accompanied the first flotilla
a year earlier.

Safeguarding The strategy of guarding known valuable assets – SLOCs,

marine natural resources, coasts, ports, cargos, vessels and persons –
remains an important mainstay of anti-piracy and anti-terrorist operations.
While this is generally an effective strategy, it is expensive because it is
very resource-intensive. Costs increase with the number of assets to be
secured, deployment duration and distance from home shores. It is
impossible, for instance, for the Indian Navy to escort any more than a tiny
fraction of Indian ships passing through the pirate-infested waters of the
Gulf of Aden. Patrolling is relatively less expensive, but is also less
effective.

Flexible response In the event that deterrence, pre-emption and guarding

fail, a strategy of flexible response allows the attack to be foiled, contained
or defeated. Given the asymmetric nature of the non-state threat, it is clear
that the military balance is overwhelmingly tilted in favour of the Indian
Navy. For this to translate into an effective response against non-state
actors, the Indian Navy must be able to use the firepower in a flexible
manner, proportionate to the threat and in a manner that does not cause it to
lose in the court of domestic and international public opinion.

Narrative dominance Each of these strategies must be accompanied by

information operations that ensure that the Indian Navy has narrative
dominance. Terrorists, insurgents, protesters and activists are essentially
engaged in political theatre and their acts designed to shape public opinion
in a manner that promotes their objectives. Even if their actual actions are
foiled, they still succeed to the extent that their narrative gets favourable
attention. It is imperative, therefore, for the Indian Navy to win this battle
too. The capability to provide timely, accurate and credible information to a
global audience on a real-time basis is already something that the Indian
Navy cannot do without. A well-designed information strategy addresses
whether and how to use this information so as to establish one’s own
version of the truth.

Conclusion

The era of violent peace is likely to persist through the first half of the
twenty-first century. Globalization and the information revolution have
profoundly changed geopolitics by empowering individuals and groups to
act across international political boundaries. At the same time, the global
balance of power is in a state of flux, with China, India, Brazil, South
Africa, Indonesia and Turkey catching up with the West in relative terms.
The United States is likely to remain the preeminent global power during
this period. However, it will be unable to shape outcomes in any region by
itself or with its traditional NATO allies. It is in this context that the global
commons will see several contests: among the world’s powers, between
states and non-state actors and among non-state actors.
India must be prepared for these contests. Non-state threats to maritime
security are one manifestation of such contests. As we saw in this chapter,
non-state threats can originate from states, international regimes, the
political economy, ideology and nature. They express themselves as threats
to sea, land, air, law and order, and the environment. Non-state actors could
act in isolation, in coordination and as part of a broader strategic plan. In
most cases, they will not challenge India’s ‘hard power’ at sea. They are
more likely to blunt its fighting edge.
As the salience of the non-state threat increases in the coming years, the
Indian Navy must redefine the baselines of what peacetime and wartime
mean. Instead of a binary choice, the threat environment indicates that it is
more practical to classify the operational environment in graduated steps,
with peace and war being two extreme points. Protecting the global
commons, and India’s interests in such domains, should enter India’s
maritime doctrine. Similarly, the Indian Navy must undertake structural and
cultural changes to ensure that the constabulary role receives due emphasis.
Finally, while the Indian Navy can employ deterrence, pre-emption,
safeguarding or flexible response strategies to address the non-state threat,
they must be accompanied by an information strategy. International conflict
is already a clash of convictions: it is as important to win in the court of
domestic and international public opinion as it is to win in battle. In
addition to projecting power and controlling the sea, the Indian Navy will
therefore also have to dominate the narrative.
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http://muse.jhu.edu/ (accessed: 11 July 2011).
2 Joshua Ho, ‘Piracy in the Gulf of Aden: Lessons from the Malacca Strait’, RSIS Commentaries,
22 January 2009, https://dr.ntu.edu.sg/handle/10220/4692 (accessed: 11 July 2011).
3 Martin Murphy, ‘Maritime threat: Tactics and Technology of the Sea Tigers’, Jane’s Intelligence
Review, 18(6) (2006): 6–10.
4 J.N. Dixit, Assignment Colombo (New Delhi: Konark, 2002), pp. 263–5.
5 Ted Galen Carpenter, ‘More Trouble in the South China Sea’, 14 June 2011,
www.cato.org/pub_display.php?pub_id=13301 (accessed: 11 July 2011).
6 Paul Salopek, ‘Off the Lawless Coast of Somalia, Questions of Who is Pirating Who’, Chicago
Tribune, 10 October 2008, http://is.gd/NyFPos (accessed: 11 July 2011).
7 P.K. Ghosh, ‘Somalian Piracy: An Alternate Perspective’, ORF Occasional Paper 16 (2010),
http://is.gd/ISOsty (accessed: 11 July 2011).
8 According to Benedict Anderson, imagined communities are those that are socially constructed,
or imagined, by people who see themselves as part of that group. Anderson argues that nations are
imagined communities forged as a result of the spread of printing technology. See Benedict
Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin andSpread of Nationalism (London:
Verso, 1991).
9 ‘World Charter for Nature’, A/RES/37/7, United Nations General Assembly, 28 October 1982.
10 ‘Mandate’, Sea Shepherd Conservation Society, www.seashepherd.org/who-we-
are/mandate.html (accessed: 11 July 2011).
11 Andrew Hoek, ‘Sea Shepherd Conservation Society v. Japanese Whalers, the Showdown: Who
Is the Real Villain?’, Stanford Journal of Animal Law & Policy, 3 (2010): 179–84.
12 For an analysis of the Gaza flotilla campaign, see Sidney Tarrow, Power in Movement: Social
Movements and Contentious Politics (Cambridge University Press, 2011), pp. 1–8.
13 Hussain Zaidi, ‘The Reluctant Mafioso’, Mint, 9 July 2010,
www.livemint.com/2010/07/09191326/The-reluctant-Mafioso.html (accessed: 11 July 2011).
14 ‘Illegal Mining, Iron Ore Export Still Going On, Says Lokayukta’, The Hindu, 9 June 2011,
www.hindu.com/2011/06/09/stories/2011060951130500.htm (accessed: 11 July 2011).
15 ‘EU Organized Crime Threat Assessment OCTA 2011’, File no. 2530-274, Europol, 2011.
16 Christopher Caldwell, Reflections on the Revolution in Europe (New York: Doubleday, 2009),
pp. 68–9.
17 Geopolicity, ‘The Economics of Piracy: Pirate Ransoms and Livelihoods off the Coast of
Somalia’, 2011, www.geopolicity.com/upload/content/pub_1305229189_regular.pdf (accessed: 12
July 2011).
18 Shishir Upadhyaya, ‘Tackling the Pirate Menace’, Pragati – The Indian National Interest
Review (January 2011).
19 Mohamed Ahmed, ‘Somali Sea Gangs Lure Investors at Pirate Lair’, Reuters, 1 December
2009, www.reuters.com/article/2009/12/01/us-somalia-piracy-investorsidUSTRE5B01Z920091201
(accessed: 11 July 2011).
20 Nitin Pai, ‘Climate Change and National Security: Preparing India for New Conflict
Scenarios’, The Indian National Interest Policy Brief No 1, April 2008,
http://takshashila.org.in/publications/ (accessed: 11 July 2011).
21 Praveen Swami, ‘26/11: ‘ISI, Lashkar Collaborated Closely’, The Hindu, 27 May 2011,
www.hindu.com/2011/05/27/stories/2011052756510300.htm (accessed: 11 July 2011).
 22 Mani D’Mello, ‘Crude Oil Smuggling Is a Threat to National Security: IB Report’, Times of
India, 15 February 2010.
23 Alok Bansal, ‘Maritime Threat Perceptions: Non-State Actors in the Indian Ocean Region’,
Maritime Affairs, 6(1) (2010): 10–27.
24 For a discussion on direct and secondary costs of piracy see Anna Bowden et al., ‘The
Economic Cost of Maritime Piracy’, One Earth Future Working Paper, 2010, http://is.gd/BOYuNo
(accessed: 12 July 2011).
25 Mark Mazzetti and Thom Shanker, ‘Arming of Hezbollah Reveals U.S. and Israeli Blind
Spots’, New York Times, 19 July 2006,
www.nytimes.com/2006/07/19/world/middleeast/19missile.html (accessed: 11 July 2011).
26 ‘Role of Dawood Bared in 1993 Blasts’, PTI/Outlook, 22 September 2006,
http://news.outlookindia.com/item.aspx?417580 (accessed: 11 July 2011).
27 B. Raman, Mumbai 26/11: A Day of Infamy (New Delhi: Lancer, 2009), pp. 69–94.
28 Satish Jha, ‘Somali Pirates on Gujarat Coast Raise Fresh Security Worries’, DNA, 28 June
2011, www.dnaindia.com/india/report_somali-pirates-on-gujarat-coast-raise-freshsecurity-
worries_1560083 (accessed: 11 July 2011).
29 T.S. Subramanian, ‘Fishermen’s Protest’, Frontline, 22(8) (August–September 2005),
www.hindu.com/fline/fl2218/stories/20050909005412200.htm (accessed: 11 July 2011).
30 Neil Chatterjee, ‘Security Raised in Malacca Strait after Terror Warning’, Reuters, 4 March
2010, www.reuters.com/article/2010/03/04/us-malacca-threatidUSTRE62335120100304 (accessed:
11 July 2011).
31 ‘Operation Divine Wind’, Sea Shepherd Conservation Society, 30 June 2011,
www.seashepherd.org/news-and-media/2011/06/30/operation-divine-wind-3 (accessed: 11 July
2011).
32 Integrated Headquarters, Ministry of Defence (Navy), Freedom to Use the Seas: India’s
Maritime Military Strategy, 2007, http://indiannavy.nic.in/maritime_strat.pdf (accessed: 11 July
2011).
33 Arun Prakash, ‘Freedom of the Seas vs Regulation: Choosing the Right Balance’, in Freedom
of the Seas: A Contemporary Outlook, ed. Ravi Vohra and P.K. Ghosh (New Delhi: National
Maritime Foundation: 2008), pp. 231–42.
 Index

All index entries shown here correspond to the page numbers within the
printed edition only. Within this digital format these page numbers allow for
cross referencing only.

Bold page numbers indicate figures, italic numbers indicate tables.

Action Speed Tactical Trainer (ASTT) 89

Admiral Gorshkov 133, 135
advanced torpedoes 29
Airavat (Indian warship) 114
airborne early warning (AEW) 34
aircraft carrier 84–9
future ship design 86
Shivalik 86
submarines 87–9, 87
Vikrant 85
air defence ship 65
Akula II nuclear submarine 64, 83
Al Qaeda 125, 166
American technological prowess 9
Andaman and Nicobar Islands, Eastern command 132
anti-access capability 30
anti-piracy operations in Somalia 61
anti-piracy patrols, by India-China-Japan 118
anti-piracy patrols (CTF 525) 112
anti-ship ballistic missile (ASBM) 9
anti-ship cruise missiles 22, 29, 106
anti-submarine rockets 22
anti-submarine warfare (ASW) 33, 36, 67, 89–90
anti-trafficking patrols 146
anti-whaling campaigns 173
Arab slavers and pirates 71
Arab Spring of 2011 161
Argo Phoenix AR 700 ESM 87
Arthashastra 69
Asian navies, development 23
ASW helicopters 36–7
ATV (Advanced Technology Vehicle) 64, 134

Bab el-Mandeb Strait 121, 146, 152

Baer, George 148
‘balancing’ and ‘bandwagoning’ 150
ballistic missiles 10, 65, 106, 147
Bangladesh 115–16
Chittagong harbour 116, 129
Bangladesh War (1971) 27, 43
Barnett, Thomas 13
Barnett, Thomas P.M. 73
Bay of Bengal, anti-trafficking patrols 146
better-defined partnership, emergence of a, 142
Bhabha Atomic Research Centre 89
bi-lateral maritime league 154
bi-lateral naval exercises with the
USA 51 bipolarity 73
birth of the Indian Navy 2
Boer War 43
bombardment with missions 32
Booth, Ken 41
Bose, Sugata 72
Brahmaputra 37, 84
BrahMos cruise missile 34
Brenner, William J., 69
budgetary allocations 108
budgetary shortfalls 67–8
bureaucratic politics 38–9
disproportionate appointments of officers 38
inter-service competition 39
inter-service politics 39
intra-service politics 39
parochial feelings 38
soft maritime power 40

Cabinet Committee on Security 32

Cable, James 41
CAIS (Command and Control System) 92
Cambodia, military agreement 128
Cape of Good Hope 71
capital expenditure 125
carrier aircraft 32, 34, 86, 93
carrier-based aviation 37
carrier capabilities 37
Chahbahar port 132
Charles de Gaulle 34
Chauhan, P.S. (Rear Admiral) 46
Chetak (helecopter) 93
China
 assertiveness 100
challenge the principle of free navigation 10
construction of canal across the Kra Isthmus, Thailand 128
defence budget 103, 108, 118
defence modernization programme 9
development of the Hambantota Development Zone 129
double-digit economic growth 99
foray in the Indian Ocean 127–30
Gwadar port, Pakistan 128–9
increasingly sophisticated submarine fleet 10
Jin class submarine at Hainan 134
large-scale entry into Indian Ocean 147
military modernization programme 2
settlement of border dispute 40
transformation and modernization 100
war (1962) 124
China Merchants Holdings 115
Chinese Defence White Paper (2010) 109–10
confidence-building measures (CBMs) 110
counter-piracy patrols off the coast of Somalia 110
Military Operations Other Than War (MOOTW) 109
UN Peacekeeping Operations 110
Chinese maritime strategy 104
Chinese Navy 2, 14, 95, 101, 105, 107, 109, 112, 117–19
choke points 74, 123, 127–9, 146
Chopra, Anil (VA dm) 118
Cinderella status 43, 55, 62
civil disobedience 167, 171, 174, 176
civilian political supremacy 42
civil-military interface 50
civil-military relationship 61, 79
coalition maintenance, mechanics of 149
coalition management 149
Coastal Guard 49
coercion/gunboat diplomacy 48
Cohen, Steve 61
Cold War (1991–2011) 19, 52–3
end of 3, 19, 36, 51, 73, 79
collaborative endeavours 145–6
Collingwood, HMS 89
combined diesel or gas (CODOG) profile 84
combined gas turbine and gas turbine (COGAG) profile 84
communism 161
Communist Party of China (CPC) 100
Competition between China and India 132–3
Container Security Initiative (CSI) 131
Comptroller and Auditor General (CAG) 29, 88
Corbett, Sir Julian 142
cruise missiles 32–4
cultural, social and ideological affinities 153

Dalian Shipbuilding Industry Company 103

Dasgupta, Sunil 61
deck-bound aircraft (DBA) 93
defence budget 9, 24–5, 39, 56, 62–3, 66–7, 72, 85, 95, 108, 112, 118, 124,
155
defence expenditure 24
defence modernization programme 124
Defence Research and Development
Organization (DRDO) 34, 65, 87, 124
 budgetary allocations 124
dependency index 53
destroyers 20–1, 36–8, 103, 112, 117, 134, 175
diesel submarine 29, 87
disaster relief 34, 110, 130, 146
displacement and missile complement 21
Dixit, J.N. 46
doctrinal evolutions and organizational trajectories 78–9
domestic shipyards 34
dormers 92–3
drift in policy-making 9
drug-trafficking 6
Druv 37
Durg missile 91

East China Sea 71, 100

economic growth 1, 6–7, 9, 35, 99, 108, 121–1, 144, 171
economic reforms (1991) 163
‘eco-terrorism’ 162
European war 144
Europol 164
Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ) 3, 6, 10, 26, 94, 102, 107, 114, 123, 126,
147, 160, 169, 172
extra-regional maritime actors 27–8
extra-regional navies 5, 12, 37, 40, 58, 121

fire control systems 29

fishing syndicates 169
Flournoy, Michèle 144
foreign policy 3, 5–6, 13–14, 31, 41–1, 46, 48, 51, 58, 64, 75, 99–100, 117,
130, 136, 140, 154, 158
objectives 13, 31, 41–3, 99, 136
Freedom Flotilla 162, 167, 171, 176
Free Gaza Movement 162
full-load displacement of a ship 22
fungibility, degree of 26

Gandhi, Indira 62, 75

Gandhi, Rajiv 44, 62, 75, 159
Gayoom, Maumoon Abdul 159
General Electric LM 2500 92
geopolitical circumstances 25, 56, 72, 79
German HDW 209s (INS Shishumar) 29
global politics 2, 121
glues and solvents for coalition unity 147–9
Godavari 44, 83–4, 90–1
Gorshkov 82, 84, 93
GPS-blocking technology 10
Graseby and Plessey Electronics 90
great power status, power projection 30–4
Greenpeace 162, 166
Gulf of Aden, pirates 159
gun-running 6, 125
Gwadar port, Pakistan 128, 132

HAL Tejas 37
Hambantota Development Zone 129
hazardous waste, illegal dumping of 172
held search and rescue (SAR) exercises 117
Helix ASW helicopter 37
high-seas cooperation between the United States and India 142
hijacking business 166
Himalayas, mental barrier of the 56, 68, 70
Holmes, James R. 14, 75, 139
humanitarian and disaster relief operations 58
humanitarian, assistance and
disaster relief (HADR) 47, 108
humanitarian response 19, 26, 32
HUMSA (Hull Mounted Panoramic Sonar) 90
HUMVAD (Hull Mounted and Variable Depth) 90
Huntington, Samuel 60

Ibrahim, Dawood 168, 170

IH – Humanitarian Relief Foundation 162
illegal fishing 169
Indian Air Force, budgetary allocations 124
Indian Army, budgetary allocations 124
Indian Coast Guard, law-enforcement duties 146
Indian Continentalist School 56
Indian Maritime Doctrine (2004) 7, 27, 48, 130
Indian Maritime Doctrine (2009) 48, 141, 145
military objectives, missions and tasks 59
Indian National Army (INA) 43
Indian naval aspirations 12, 136
Indian naval strength (1991–2011) 20
Indian Navy, budget 22, 124
Indian Ocean 2–8, 10–12, 14–15, 19, 26–8, 30–1, 35–6, 40, 44, 49, 51, 55–
6, 58, 64, 70–2, 78–9, 95, 100, 105, 108, 110–11, 113–14, 116–17,
121–5, 127–7, 142–3, 145–8, 150–2, 155, 166, 169
 diplomatic Initiatives 131–3
exclusive economic zone 123
free flow of goods through 122
importance for India 4 non-traditional threats 123
threats from non-state actors 125–7
drug trafficking 125
gun-running 125
maritime security in the Gulf of Aden 125
maritime security in the Persian Gulf 125
maritime terrorism 125
piracy 125
Indian Ocean Naval Symposium (IONS) 12, 58, 121
Indian Ocean Zone of Peace (IOZP) 44
India-Pakistan conflict (1971) 9
India’s civilian leadership 5
Indigenous Aircraft Carrier (IAC) 86
Indo-Myanmar relations 115 Indonesia
anti-trafficking patrols 146
INS Delhi (1950) 43
naval exercise with 133
politico-military relations 115
tsunami (2004) 46
Indo-Russian naval interaction 73–4
Indo-Soviet Group on Ship Building 91
informal balancing arrangement 151
informational and cultural exchanges 142
INS Arihant 1, 65, 95
INS Beas 44
INS Chakra 44, 134
INS Delhi 43, 92
INS Godavari 44
INS Himgiri 90
INS Jalashwa 32, 131
INS Jyoti 117
INS Kadamba 84
INS Khanjar 117
INS Khukri 89
INS Kulish 117
INS Mumbai 47, 117
INS Nilgiri 95
INS Ranjit 117
INS Shishumar 29
INS Tabar 49, 126
INS Vela/Kalvari 29
INS Vikramaditya 33
INS Vikrant 33–44
INS Viraat 44, 92
institutional consolidation 46
institutional rumination 50
International Hydrographic Organization 82
international public goods, theory of 149
internet, proliferation of 166
inter-service relations 56, 59, 62
inter-services rivalry 136
inter-war doctrinal development in Europe 60
IONS (Indian Ocean Naval Symposium) 48
Iran
diplomatic relations with India 116
India’s support in building of Chahbahar port 132
India’s principal source of foreign oil 36
Iran-Iraq war (1980–97) 81
IR signature 86
islands policy 49
Israeli-Hizbollah war (2006), evacuation operation 32
Israel-Lebanon conflict (2006) 131

Jalashwa 32, 34
Jammah Islamiah 125
Japan, strategic partnership with 114
joint military exercises 73, 117
joint naval exercises 117

Kargil conflict, see Operation Vijay

Kargil victory ‘silent’ 63
Kashmir, troops deployment 70
Kashmir dispute, UN resolutions on the 168
Kazakhstan, India’s air base in 132
Kennedy, Paul 2
Khan, A.Q. 151
3M-54 Klub cruise missile 34
Kollmorgen periscope 87–8

LAA (launch after attack) 66

Ladwig II, Walter C. 19, 71
land-attack capability 34
land-attack cruise missiles 22, 106
land attacks 170
landing ship tank (LST) 32
Lashkar-e-Taiba 167–8, 170
Laws of Manu 69
Leander class frigates 81
Li, Admiral Wu Sheng, visited India in 2008 117
Liberation Tigers of the Tamil Eelam (LTTE) 159
licence-permit raj 163
Light Combat Aircraft (LCA) 85
‘Look East policy’ 113, 133
Loughborough Underwater Experimental Establishment 90
Luttwak, Edward 41, 149

Madagascar, monitoring station 132

Maersk Alabama 151
Mahan, Alfred Thayer 3, 123, 141
Mahatma Gandhi 43
Malabar 51
Malabar initiative 52
man-portable air defence systems (MANPADS) 171
marine police are responsible 94
Maritime Doctrine (2009), desires for
greater autonomy 64–6
greater prestige 63–4
Greater Resources 66–8
Maritime Doctrine, essence of 57–68
blueprint for a multidimensional service 57
institutional backdrop 60
motivations of an aspirational doctrine, 63
maritime multilateralism 12
maritime piracy 152
maritime-security coalitions 151
maritime terrorism 6, 125, 169
Mazagon Dock 30, 83, 91
Mazagon technology 88
Mearsheimer, John 32
medium landing ships (LSM) 32
Mehta, Sureesh, Admiral 1, 31, 48, 57, 78, 117, 144
Melbourne 104
Menon, K. Raja 81
Menon, Krishna 43
Milan 45
military diplomacy 50, 79
military-jihadi complex 168
Military Operations Other Than War (MOOTW) 108–9
missile attack on Karachi (1971) 74
missiles (surface) 83
Brahmos and Klub missiles 83
Klub (Novator KH 54 TE) 83
Trishul and Talwar 83
mobile telephony, proliferation of 166
Modelski, George 31
Mongolia, space monitoring post 132
Monrovian School 56, 78
Mozambique, naval contacts with 132
MT Stolt Valor 126
Mukherjee, Pranab 117
multinational custodianship 144
Mumbai attacks (26/11) (2008) 28, 57, 94, 127, 158, 167, 170, 172
Mumbai bomb blasts (1993) 127
‘muscle-flexing’ 47
MV Alondra Rainbow 45
MV Bhakti Sagar 47
MV Kuber 168, see also Mumbai attacks (26/11) (2008)
Nadkarni, J.G. 74
Nanuchka class corvettes 81
Nargis cyclone (2008) 58
national command, control and
communication and information network, see NC3I
nationalism, communism and radical Islam 166
national security strategy, lack of 59
NATO 126, 152, 177
Naval Air Arm 92–4
naval budgets in Asia 67
Naval Construction Electrical Subsystems
and Department Research 91
Naval Development, drivers of 25–6
naval diplomacy 13, 44, 47, 51, 53, 58
naval expansion, drivers of 19, 21, 25, 27, 29, 31, 33, 35, 37, 39
naval expenditure 24
naval modernization 12–13, 19–20, 25–6, 28, 30–1, 40, 103, 106, 108
Naval Physical and Oceanographic Laboratory 89
naval platforms and doctrine 133–6
navigation, history in the Indian Ocean 2
Navy’s maritime strategy 31, 36
navy-to-navy cooperation 145
Naxalite belt 69 NC3I 94
Nehru, Jawaharlal 42–3, 46, 55, 75
Nerpa, nuclear submarine 89
new military hardware, importation of 79
“no first use” Policy 65
non-anthropogenic threats 157
non-combatant evacuation 26, 32, 34, 58, 145, 174
non-destructive testing 86
non-state actors, global threats 127
non-state threats to maritime security 158–68
arbitrage opportunities 164
causal pathways 167–8
conflict economy 165
definition of 157
fragility and failure 159
ideology 166
international system-related causes 160
nature 167
political economy 162
regulatory shortcomings 164
restrictions on imports and exports 163
state incompetence 158–9
state policy 158
state-related causes 158
non-traditional threats to global security 6
non-violent maritime civil disobedience 171
nuclear submarine 1–2, 44, 64–6, 82–3, 89, 102, 104, 125, 134–5
nuclear-tipped cruise missiles 65
Nye, Joseph 149

Obama, Barack 139

oil mafia 168
O’Neill, Tip 154
ONGC Videsh Limited (OVL) 107, 114
operational carriers 134
operational turn around (OTR) 45
Operation Jupiter (Sri Lanka, 1989) 48
Operation Sukoon 32, 46
Operation Vijay (1999) 48
organizational changes 135
overseas military deployment policy 175
Pacific Ocean, Japanese-American rivalry in 137
Pakistan, settlement of border dispute 40
Pakistan war (1965), poor performance of Navy 8
Pannikar, K.M. 4, 55, 71
Pant, Harsh V. 1, 121 Patel, Sardar 4
peaceful nuclear explosion (1974) 52, 153
People’s Liberation Army Navy (PLAN)
aircraft carrier 110–11
anti-ship ballistic missile (ASBM) programme 111
sea/air lift 111
space-based ISR capabilities 111
amphibious ships 107
anti-piracy patrols 107
anti-ship cruise missiles (ASCMs) 106
collaborative approach with the Indian Navy 119
defence budget 103
development and modernization programme 105
doctrinal approaches 105–7
evolving strategy 107–8
future fleet 104–5
held search and rescue (SAR) exercises 117
highpower microwave (HPM) devices 107
and Indian Maritime Calculus 111–13
comparison of the number of warships 112
defence budgets 112
India’s response strategy 113–16, 113
inventorial approach 103
 inventory enhancement 103
isolationistic behaviour 119
land-attack cruise missiles (LACMs) 106
land-based aircraft 106
limitations or weaknesses 107
longer-term objectives 107
major fleets 101–2
modernization drivers 102–3
modernization of 106
naval mines 107
nuclear weapons 107
submarines, role of 104
surface-to-air missiles (SAMs) 106
theatre-range ballistic missiles (TBMs) 106
three-phase strategy 105
trajectory in modernization 106
Varyag 103
Persian Gulf to the Straits of Malacca 6–7, 27, 72, 125
‘pinprick warfare’ 32
piracy 125, 151, 169
pirates 159, 169
political pluralism 151
politico-bureaucratic nexus 62
politico-diplomatic dividends 45
politico-military affairs, roles for military 60
post-Cold War decade 45
potential doctrinal and organizational trajectories 76f-77f
power projection, softer aspects 19, 34, 40
Prakash, Arun (Admiral) 39, 46–7, 63
Prasad, Yashwant (Vice Admiral) visit to China 117
principle of free navigation 10
profit-making opportunities in smuggling 163
Project 75-I 88
Project Seabird 132
Proliferation Security Initiative (PSI) 131, 152
propulsion 84
propulsion package possibilities 86
Puntland Coast Guard 160
pusillanimous policy 81

qualitative measures 21
quality of the modern vessels 22

radical Islam 161, 166

Raja Mohan, C. 71
Raj-era pan-oceanism 71
Raj Pan-Oceanic School 56
Rajput 36–7, 83, 91–2
ransom systems 165
Ranveer 117
reprioritization of the Navy 20, 68
Rolls Royce SMIA 92
Royal Indian Navy 2
Royal Navy 70, 73, 82, 155
Rozhestvensky, Russian Admiral 70
Rubin Central Design Bureau 88
Russian-built Kilo (INS Sindhughosh) 29
Russian Foxtrot (INS Vela/Kalvari) 29
Russian weapon, hybridization of 74, 91
Sagarika programme 65
Saran, Shyam 46
Sawhney, Ashok 67
schools of thought 56, 68, 78
Scorpene project 88
sea-based deterrence 58
sea-based nuclear second-strike capability 64
‘sea-blindness’ 43
‘sea-dragon’ 93
Sea King 37, 93
sea-lane security 14, 19, 37, 133
sea lines of communication (SLOCs) 12, 14, 35–6, 64, 102, 113–14, 119,
122, 137, 146, 176
Sea Shepherd Conservation Society 161
Sea Shepherd Society 166, 173
Sea Tigers 159, 170
securing shipping 35–8
security concerns, parameters 6
self-carved doctrine 58
service-to-service cooperation 74
Seychelles
maritime surveillance by India 116
naval contacts with 132
Shardul 32, 34
ship building, ship design and interfacing 90–2
Shivalik 37, 84, 86, 90, 117
short take-off but arrested recovery (STOBAR) 85
Singapore, politico-military relations 115
Singer Librascope fire-control system 87
Singh, Anup (Rear Admiral) 46
Singh, Harinder 72
Singh, Jaswant 6
Singh, Manmohan 7, 72, 139
Sino-Indian competition 10
smuggling 146, 162–1, 169, 171, 174
Somalia
anti-piracy operations 61
counter-piracy patrols off the coast of 110
merchant vessel MT Stolt Valor, highjacking 126
UN peace-support operations (1992–94) 45
Somali National Volunteer Coast Guard 160
Somali pirates 47, 170, 172
sonar of an international standard 33
Soviet school 56, 68, 73
Sri Lanka
Indian defence ties 115
naval assistance to 43
Operation Jupiter (1989) 48
stages of conflict 175
Standing Committee on Defence 25
STOBAR carrier 85–6
Strait of Hormuz 36, 121, 123, 129, 146
Strait of Malacca 7, 36, 121, 123, 129, 132, 146, 152, 158, 172
strategic defense security cooperation 145
strategic maritime gap 11, 136
string of pearls strategy 128, 130
study tours 117
submarine fleet’s operational readiness rate 29
Suez Canal 121, 123
Suffren, De (French Admiral) 70
suicide-bombers 159
superchargers 87
surface-to-air-missiles 22
syncretic thoughts 68–78
‘British school’ 73
continentalist tradition 68–70
Monrovian ambitions 75–8
Raj’s Pan-Oceanic vision 70–3
Soviet school 73–5

tactical issues 58
Taiwan Straits 102, 106, 112
Talwar 37, 83, 91, 93, 134
Tanham, George 6
‘Tanker war’ 81
techno-strategic military compulsion 51
Tejas 33
Tellis, Ashley 30
terrorism 117, 126, 143, 146, 151, 158, 168–9, 174
Thailand
anti-trafficking patrols 146
construction of canal across the Kra Isthmus by China 128
Thapar, Romila 69
theory of ‘international public goods 149
Thompson, William 31
threats from non-state actors 125–7
drug trafficking 125
gun-running 125
maritime security in the Persian Gulf 125
maritime terrorism 125
 piracy 125
threats to land and air 170–1
Till, Geoffrey 32, 141, 149
trade routes 35
trafficking 169
tsunami (2004) 32, 46, 58
Two-Ocean Navy Act (1940) 143

unlawful trafficking 151

UN Peacekeeping Operations 9, 110
UN peace-support operations in Somalia (1992–94) 45
UN resolutions on the Kashmir dispute 168
UN World Charter for Nature 161–2
US bombing of China’s Belgrade Embassy 106
USHUS sonars 87
US-India coalition-building 144
US-India Naval Cooperation 139–41
US-Indian coalition 151
US-Indian cooperation 152
US-India partnership 141
US Maritime Strategy (2007) 140–2, 150
US National Defense Strategy (2008) 140, 149
US Naval War College 58, 75
USS Bainbridge 151
USS Enterprise 8, 27, 153
USS Enterprise task force 27

Vaidya, Keshav 4
Vajpayee, Atal Bihari 6–7, 72, 139
Vikramaditya 33, 67
Vikrant 33, 85
vintage cruiser 81
Viraat 33
Viraat (Hermes), decommissioning of 82

Walt, Stephen 149–50

Watson, Paul 173
weapons proliferation 151
WESE (Weapons Electronics System Engineering Establishment) 90
WESO (Weapons and Electronics
Systems Organization) 91
‘Whale Wars’ or ‘Divine Wind’ (Kamikaze) 173
Winner, Andrew C. 70
World War II 81, 151, 153

Yarnell, Harry (Captain) 148

Yongyi, Zhang (Rear Admiral, PLA Navy) visit to India 117

Zarya DT 84
Zeiss 88
Zemin, Jiang 100