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By:

Correspondent

23 August 2024 at 4:29:04 pm

Ageing Wings

The crash of an Indian Air Force Antonov AN-32 during landing at Jorhat in Assam, which claimed the lives of five air force personnel, is a sombre reminder of the risks routinely borne by India’s servicemen and women. It also raises difficult questions about ageing military platforms that remain in service long after their intended prime. The Antonov AN-32 has been one of the unsung workhorses of the Indian Air Force. Since its induction in the 1980s, the Soviet-designed twin-engine turboprop...

Ageing Wings

The crash of an Indian Air Force Antonov AN-32 during landing at Jorhat in Assam, which claimed the lives of five air force personnel, is a sombre reminder of the risks routinely borne by India’s servicemen and women. It also raises difficult questions about ageing military platforms that remain in service long after their intended prime. The Antonov AN-32 has been one of the unsung workhorses of the Indian Air Force. Since its induction in the 1980s, the Soviet-designed twin-engine turboprop has carried troops and equipment across some of the most inhospitable terrain on earth. From the icy heights of Ladakh to the dense forests of the Northeast, the aircraft has performed missions indispensable to India’s defence preparedness. During the Kargil conflict and subsequent military mobilisations, it proved its worth countless times. And yet, the Jorhat accident is the third major AN-32 crash in the past decade. In 2016, an aircraft disappeared over the Bay of Bengal, taking with it 29 personnel. In 2019, another AN-32 crashed in Arunachal Pradesh, killing 13. Together with Saturday's tragedy, these accidents have exacted a heavy human toll. Even if the aircraft enjoys a reputation as one of the more reliable platforms in the Air Force’s inventory, repeated crashes inevitably raise questions about fleet age, maintenance practices and technological obsolescence. Military aviation is inherently hazardous. It would be simplistic and unfair to attribute every accident solely to the age of an aircraft. But there is a broader issue that cannot be ignored. India’s armed forces continue to rely on several platforms designed during the Cold War. The AN-32 fleet was acquired in 1984. Though upgrades have been undertaken, including avionics modernisation and engine overhauls, the aircraft remains fundamentally a product of another era. Modernisation programmes have themselves been hindered by geopolitical disruptions, notably the deterioration of relations between Russia and Ukraine after the annexation of Crimea. The result has been a patchwork approach to sustaining an ageing fleet. This challenge extends beyond a single aircraft type. Across the world, military forces face the dilemma of balancing operational readiness against the enormous costs of replacing legacy platforms. India, with its vast security commitments and finite defence budget, is no exception. Yet every crash underscores the hidden costs of postponing difficult procurement decisions. Defence capability is not measured solely by fighter jets and warships showcased during national celebrations. It rests equally on logistics, maintenance infrastructure and safety culture. A military can project power only if it can reliably move people and equipment where they are needed. For now, the immediate priority is a thorough and transparent investigation. If systemic shortcomings are identified, they must be addressed without bureaucratic delay. The AN-32 has served India faithfully for four decades. But faithful service is not a reason to avoid hard questions. It is a reason to ask them.

Choking Mumbai

For decades, Mumbai was perceived as a rare urban oasis, where the saline sweep of the Arabian Sea blunted the worst ravages of India's air pollution. That illusion has now been dispelled. A meticulous four-year study by Respirer Living Sciences (RLS), using data from its AtlasAQ platform, reveals the bleak truth that the city’s air is thick with pollutants all year round, with no ‘clean season’ left.


Mumbai’s annual average levels of PM10 (particulate matter ten microns or less in diameter) have consistently breached the national safety threshold of 60 micrograms per cubic metre (μg/m³). This is not merely a seasonal malaise tied to cooler winter months, as once assumed. Alarmingly, the city’s pollution levels persist even through the hot season, a time when improved atmospheric dispersion should offer natural reprieve.


Across the city - from Chakala in Andheri East to Deonar, Kurla, Vile Parle West and Mazgaon - pollution has become an unrelenting, ubiquitous presence.


The culprits are well known: traffic emissions from a burgeoning number of vehicles; unregulated dust from frenzied construction; industrial activity in and around the ports; and a conspicuous lack of dust control measures. Mumbai’s ceaseless growth now risks becoming a chronic liability.


Worryingly, the regulatory response remains sluggish. Mumbai’s urban planning continues to treat clean air as a peripheral concern, not a foundational necessity. Development plans rarely integrate environmental impact assessments in a meaningful way.


A sharper, citywide strategy is urgently needed. Dust suppression rules at construction sites must be enforced strictly, with financial penalties for violators and incentives for best practices. Traffic management systems should be overhauled to ease congestion and encourage the use of public transport. Expansion of clean, reliable mass transit network needs to be urgently prioritised. In addition, comprehensive real-time air monitoring at the ward level should be deployed, enabling authorities to respond to localised pollution spikes swiftly rather than relying on citywide averages that conceal dangerous hotspots.


Longer-term, clean air targets must be hardwired into the city’s master planning and transport policies. Green buffers along major traffic corridors, stricter emission norms for commercial vehicles and incentives for rooftop gardens and urban afforestation could all play a part. Industrial zones near port areas should be subjected to rigorous air quality compliance measures, not token self-certifications. Private developers and large infrastructure firms, often among the worst offenders, must be made stakeholders in the clean air mission through binding regulations.


Mumbai’s commercial dynamism - as a magnet for migrants, entrepreneurs and investors - depends not just on glittering skyscrapers but on something far more basic: the ability to breathe. Unless clean air becomes an unshakeable priority, the city risks suffocating its own future. For a metropolis that prides itself on its resilience against terror attacks, monsoon floods and economic shocks, the real test will be whether it can muster the will to fight an invisible, pervasive enemy slowly corroding the lives of its 20 million citizens.

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