The Economist April 9th 2022 Asia 47
I
n the earlyevening of March 9th a
supersonic cruise missile blasted
skyward from a site in northern India.
Within 200 seconds it had streaked
across the Pakistani border. When it
smacked to the ground just minutes
later, it was 124km inside the territory of
India’s nucleararmed enemy. Luckily no
one was harmed. Lucky, too, that Paki
stan did not respond to the intrusion,
except to ask an embarrassed India what
had gone wrong.
The answer is still not clear, though
India did say that there had been a regret
table mishap. What is known is that the
wayward projectile was a BrahMos mis
sile. Estimated to cost some $2m each
and fired from land, sea or air, the nuc
learcapable weapon is one of the most
potent India possesses. It is also among
the most visible products of a deep,
decadeslong partnership between state
run Indian and Russian armsmakers.
Even its name, combining the Brah
maputra and Moskva rivers, suggests a
sangam, or confluence, of interests.
This entanglement is one of the rea
sons why, seven weeks into Russia’s war
on Ukraine, India finds itself in an un
comfortable position. The trouble is not
just the sight of so much Russian ar
mour, of exactly the sort that still makes
up most of India’s own arsenal, getting
smoked on the plains around the Dniep
er. It is also the attachment of the Indian
state to a historic partner that could do
something so capricious, destructive and
stupid as to try to devour Ukraine.
That has forced Indian diplomats into
a marathon of fast talking and fancy
footwork. The question they have strug
gled to answer is one that Joe Wilson, a
Republican congressman from South
Carolina and selfdeclared “friend of
India”, pressed on Lloyd Austin, Amer
ica’s defence secretary: how, he asked in a
congressional hearing on April 5th, could
a fellow democracy like India be persuad
ed to join its “natural allies” in the West?
Some Indian officials are blunt about
the dilemma. “We know Putin is a shit,”
says one lawmaker from the ruling party,
before explaining that reliance on critical
Russian spare parts and technology limits
room for manoeuvre in Delhi. Defending
India’s 11 successive abstentions in un
forums since the invasion—except for a
strongly worded statement that “unequiv
ocally condemned” the massacre of civil
ians in the suburbs of Kyiv—others speak
of a long tradition of nonalignment. They
note that just as leaders in Delhi declined
to condemn Russia, they similarly ab
stained from blasting America when it
stomped into Iraq. Some more boldly say
that Ukraine is Europe’s problem, that
India is simply asserting its own freedom
to choose, and who says India belongs to
the West anyway?
India’s Western suitors, keen not to
alienate a country that is key to their own
plans for managing China, have now
muted their criticism of its position.
Within India, the government’s prickly
resistance to what is portrayed as West
ern highhandedness and hypocrisy has
been popular. For the time being, then, it
looks like India may pay little price for
breaking with the democratic pack over
Ukraine. Indeed, it may profit from
buying discounted Russian oil.
Yet the selfcongratulatory patter now
echoing in Delhi’s corridors of power,
about having told bossy Westerners
where to get off, may be premature. The
Ukraine crisis has sent fawning envoys
scurrying to India’s capital. But it also
reveals the country’s underlying weak
nesses. Dependence on imported arms is
one of these. The BrahMos project, for
example, is 24 years old. Most of its
inputs are now Indianmade, but Rus
sian parts remain crucial.
Economic vulnerabilities, such as a
neartotal reliance on imported fossil
fuels, have also come into sharp relief.
Facing crucial state elections in February,
India’s government held down petrol
prices from midDecember to mid
March. Now soaring back up to Ukraine
boosted global levels, they are causing a
painful shock. No wonder those Russian
oil discounts look so tempting.
Josh Felman and Arvind Subrama
nian, a pair of economists, argue in a
recent article that India’s rulers may be
fooling themselves into believing that
the country’s apparent military and
economic heft translates to majorpower
status. In fact, an undersized domestic
market for consumption and a small tax
base with which to pay for defence up
grades mean that India remains a mid
dling power in need of rapid, sustained
economic growth. Their advice: India
“must look past the illusion of size and
reconcile itself with strategic realities”.
India’s vaunted strategic autonomy is an illusion
Banyan Enmeshed
of the armed forces’ formidable InterSer
vices Intelligence (isi), a sprawling agency
with covert fingers in many pies, including
Afghanistan.The suspicion that Mr Khan
wished to disrupt the military line of suc
cession in order to have his own man in the
top job proved too much for General Bajwa,
some analysts believe.
Mr Khan’s railing against America and
its allies may also have alarmed the army.
The prime minister appeared in Moscow,
shaking hands with Vladimir Putin, on the
very day that Russia invaded Ukraine. That
was perhaps seen as an embarrassment—
though not by Mr Khan, who has roused
supporters by declaring that America is
conspiring with the opposition to oust him
for daring to pursue his own foreign policy,
and for seeking good relations with Russia
and China.Yet Mr Khan has given no evi
dence of any plot and America dismisses
the charge as baseless.
Cosy relations with the army are un
likely to resume, whatever the Supreme
Court rules. This could spell trouble for Mr
Khan, regardless of whether his fate is
handed back to parliament, or to the polls.
Yet the prime minister’s populist gambit—
casting his looming parliamentary defeat
as international persecution abetted by a
traitorous opposition—may prove tactical
ly deft. Polling by Gallup suggests that 36%
of Pakistanis buy the conspiracy line.
Among shopkeepers in a commercial dis
trict of Rawalpindi that voted for his party
in 2018, many accept his claim that the
West is out to get him. “America will never
want Imran Khan in power, because he is
not a yesman,” says Mohammed Zahid,
who sells embroidered women’s tunics.
“External powers don’t likethatour coun
try now has true leadership.”n