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By:

Commodore S.L. Deshmukh

31 October 2024 at 8:30:19 am

The Beam That Blinds the Drone

As cheap drones reshape the battlefield, India’s T-SHUL BEAM points to a future in which electronic warfare may matter as much as firepower The drone has definitively become the weapon of choice for the modern battlefield. Cheap, expendable and increasingly autonomous, unmanned aerial vehicles can now threaten troops, armour, airfields and critical infrastructure without requiring the attacker to risk a pilot. Their proliferation has created a corresponding demand for counter-drone systems...

The Beam That Blinds the Drone

As cheap drones reshape the battlefield, India’s T-SHUL BEAM points to a future in which electronic warfare may matter as much as firepower The drone has definitively become the weapon of choice for the modern battlefield. Cheap, expendable and increasingly autonomous, unmanned aerial vehicles can now threaten troops, armour, airfields and critical infrastructure without requiring the attacker to risk a pilot. Their proliferation has created a corresponding demand for counter-drone systems that can respond quickly and at a cost proportionate to the threat. This is where beam-based anti-drone technology enters the picture. Broadly, such systems fall into two categories. Hard-kill systems use concentrated laser energy to physically damage or destroy a drone. Soft-kill systems, by contrast, use radio-frequency or electromagnetic energy to disrupt the electronic links that allow a drone to communicate, navigate and transmit information. Sophisticated Weaponry Hard-kill laser systems focus an intense beam of light on a vulnerable part of an incoming UAV - its carbon-fibre structure, control surfaces, battery or other critical components. The concentrated energy rapidly heats the target, potentially burning through its structure or disabling optical sensors and bringing the aircraft down. India’s DRDO has demonstrated a 30kW laser system, while Israel’s Rafael has developed the Lite Beam system. Soft-kill systems take a different route. Rather than physically destroying the aircraft, they interfere with the electronic architecture that keeps it airborne. Directional radio-frequency energy can disrupt command-and-control links, video feeds, telemetry and satellite-navigation signals such as GPS or other GNSS services. Depending on the drone and the nature of the disruption, the aircraft may be forced to land, return to its launch point or lose control. It is in this category that the T-SHUL BEAM system developed by Indian defence company IG Defence deserves attention. T-SHUL BEAM is a man-portable, directional counter-drone system designed for tactical deployment. Its multi-band radio-frequency architecture is intended to target several of the links on which unmanned aerial systems depend, including command-and-control, telemetry, video transmission and GNSS navigation. Its directional configuration allows an operator to concentrate electronic countermeasures on a particular aerial target rather than indiscriminately radiating energy across a large area. That matters on a battlefield where the warning time against a small UAV or first-person-view drone may be measured in seconds. The appeal of such a system is therefore not simply that it can counter a drone. It is that it can potentially bring counter-drone capability closer to the soldier and to the tactical edge. Large counter-UAS installations have their place, particularly around fixed and high-value assets. But forward units require systems that can move with them, be deployed rapidly and operate against small, low-cost unmanned platforms without imposing the logistical burden associated with conventional weapons. The T-SHUL BEAM’s significance also lies in its proposed integration with an artificial-intelligence-enabled battle-management architecture. IG Drones, the original equipment manufacturer, has stated that T-SHUL BEAM has been integrated with GRID, its indigenous AI-powered platform. The GRID architecture is intended to bring sensors, intelligence systems, unmanned platforms and command elements into a common operational framework. The attraction of such integration is obvious. Countering drones is increasingly less about a single weapon and more about the speed of the kill chain: detecting a threat, identifying it, deciding what response is appropriate and directing that response before the target disappears. An AI-enabled command architecture can potentially improve situational awareness, facilitate real-time threat detection and coordinate different systems operating simultaneously. This is particularly relevant as drone warfare evolves from isolated attacks towards increasingly complex and potentially swarming operations. A battlefield crowded with drones cannot be managed effectively if every sensor and weapon operates as a separate island. The advantage will increasingly belong to forces capable of turning disparate streams of information into a coherent picture and responding at machine speed. The T-SHUL BEAM’s reported demonstration at Pokhran represents another step in India’s attempt to build a domestic ecosystem spanning drones, counter-drones, artificial intelligence and electronic warfare. Counter-drone warfare is likely to be a recurring requirement rather than a niche capability. Importing every component of such an ecosystem would leave India vulnerable to supply-chain disruptions, technology restrictions and foreign-exchange pressures. Indigenous development, even when undertaken by relatively small private-sector companies, can broaden the country’s technological base and give the armed forces greater freedom to adapt systems to their operational requirements. Economics of the Contest Yet the real measure of any counter-drone system will ultimately be operational rather than promotional. Electronic warfare is inherently a contest between countermeasure and counter-countermeasure. Drone designers can alter frequencies, communications protocols, navigation methods and levels of autonomy. A system that is effective against one generation of drones may require modification against the next. The battlefield, in other words, will remain a technological arms race. The economics of the contest nevertheless favour directed-energy and electronic-warfare solutions. A conventional interceptor expends a missile or projectile against each target. A beam-based system can, subject to its power supply, engagement envelope and other operational constraints, engage targets without expending conventional ammunition. The marginal cost of an interception can consequently be dramatically lower. The beam also travels at effectively the speed of light, removing the flight time associated with kinetic interceptors. In densely populated areas or around sensitive infrastructure, bringing down a drone with a projectile can create its own hazards. Electronic disruption, when properly controlled, offers the possibility of neutralising the threat without sending an interceptor crashing back to earth. These advantages should not obscure the limitations. Soft-kill systems depend on the vulnerabilities of the target’s electronic architecture and may be less effective against increasingly autonomous drones that require fewer external communications. Weather, range, power availability, frequency management and the sophistication of an adversary's electronic countermeasures can all affect performance. No single technology is likely to provide a complete answer. The future of counter-drone warfare will therefore belong not to the beam alone but to layered defence combining. The emergence of systems such as T-SHUL BEAM suggests that India is beginning to build the technological pieces of that architecture at home. (The writer is a retired naval aviation officer and a defence and geopolitical analyst. Views personal.)

Contours of Darkness

Jun 7
3 min read

In the evolving landscape of Indian non-fiction, where true crime writing frequently succumbs to spectacle and narrative sensationalism, The Pune Serial Killers authored by Sujata Sapre and Prof. Anandajit Goswami and published by Srishti Publishers asserts itself as a work of formidable intellectual authority and narrative sophistication. It is not a mere reconstruction of crime but a deeply reflective inquiry into the architecture of violence and the fragile moral ecosystems that enable it.


The book revisits the Joshi-Abhyankar murders of 1970s Pune, yet its ambition extends far beyond documentation. Sapre and Goswami transform a historically specific incident into a layered meditation on criminal psychology, social transformation, and ethical disintegration. In doing so, they align themselves with the introspective and psychologically probing tradition of true crime writing, inviting comparison with The Stranger Beside Me. However, where Ann Rule’s work derives its unsettling power from personal proximity and the shock of recognising monstrosity within the familiar, The Pune Serial Killers adopts a more distanced and analytical stance. It is less concerned with the intimacy of evil than with its conditions of possibility. The authors move beyond individual pathology to interrogate the broader social and cultural matrices that normalise or enable violence, thereby transforming a narrative of crime into a wider critique of a society in moral transition.


Similarly, when placed alongside Vincent Bugliosi’s Helter Skelter, which emphasises prosecutorial detail and courtroom drama, this work distinguishes itself by shifting attention from legal resolution to existential inquiry. The crime here is not simply solved; it is interrogated as a phenomenon embedded within broader cultural and psychological frameworks. The authors’ portrayal of Pune is particularly striking. Conventionally imagined as a centre of intellectual refinement and cultural stability, the city is reconfigured as a site of latent contradictions. Beneath its academic and civilisational veneer lies a terrain marked by aspiration, alienation, and suppressed volatility. This reimagining elevates the narrative beyond regional specificity, situating it within a universal discourse on urban modernity and its discontents.


Linear Simplicity

Structurally, the book resists linear simplicity. Its narrative unfolds through a carefully modulated interplay of perspectives, blending investigative detail with psychological introspection and sociological commentary. This layered construction demands an attentive reader, yet it rewards such engagement with a richer and more unsettling understanding of events.


The psychological exploration of the perpetrators constitutes the intellectual core of the work. The authors reject reductive binaries of monstrosity and normalcy. Instead, they present individuals shaped by a complex convergence of personal ambition, emotional fracture, and environmental influence. Crime, in this framework, emerges not as an isolated act but as a gradual process of internal corrosion and external reinforcement.


Particularly compelling is the examination of group dynamics within the gang. Power, hierarchy, and the performance of dominance are rendered with clinical precision. The crimes acquire a chilling coherence when viewed through this lens, revealing how collective identity can intensify individual deviance. In contrast to many Western true crime narratives that isolate the individual psyche, this work foregrounds the collective dimension of violence, offering a more expansive analytical scope.


The prose is marked by restraint and intellectual clarity. There is no indulgence in gratuitous detail, no attempt to aestheticise brutality. This disciplined approach recalls the narrative economy of works such as Emmanuel Carrère’s The Adversary, where the power of the text lies in its refusal to sensationalise. Sapre and Goswami maintain a similar ethical distance, allowing the gravity of the crimes to assert itself without narrative manipulation.


Historical Moment

Equally significant is the book’s engagement with its historical moment. The 1970s in India were characterised by economic strain, ideological flux, and shifting social hierarchies. The authors integrate these elements with subtle precision, suggesting that the crimes were not merely personal aberrations but manifestations of a deeper societal unease. This contextual depth aligns the work with sociological studies of crime that view deviance as both an individual and systemic phenomenon.


In its final assessment, The Pune Serial Killers stands as a landmark contribution to Indian true crime writing. It does not merely recount what happened; it interrogates why it became possible. In doing so, it elevates the genre from reportage to reflection, from narration to critical thought. This is a work that lingers not for its depiction of violence, but for its uncompromising exploration of the conditions that produce it. It compels us to recognise that the boundaries we draw between civilisation and savagery are neither fixed nor secure, but perilously thin, constantly negotiated within the human mind and the society it inhabits.


(The writer is a literary critic and book reviewer.)


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