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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.)

Inside the secret power struggle behind Dhankhar’s resignation

Writer: Abhijit Mulye
Abhijit Mulye
Dec 1, 2025
4 min read

Mumbai: The cryptic silence surrounding the abrupt resignation of former Vice President Jagdeep Dhankhar in July was shattered on the floor of the Rajya Sabha this Monday, not by a government clarification, but by the visible anguish of the Opposition. While official records continue to attribute his departure to “health reasons,” highly placed sources in the power corridors of the capital have now confirmed that a fatal misunderstanding of the shifting power dynamics between the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) and the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) top brass was the true precipice from which the former Vice President fell.


The revelations surfaced as the Winter Session of Parliament commenced on Monday, December 1, 2025. The solemnity of welcoming the new Vice President and Rajya Sabha Chairman, C.P. Radhakrishnan, was punctured by an emotional intervention from Leader of the Opposition Mallikarjun Kharge. The veteran Congress leader, hands shaking and voice trembling, shed tears on the floor of the House—a rare display of vulnerability that underscored the Opposition’s grievance over what they term an “institutional surgical strike.”


The Failed Mediation

Exclusive details emerging from Delhi’s political circles paint a picture of a constitutional authority who misread the winds of change. Sources reveal that tensions between Dhankhar and the government had been simmering for months, primarily over his handling of key legislative agendas and a perceived “drift” towards accommodating Opposition demands in the Upper House.


As the chasm widened, a lifeline was reportedly thrown. A senior leader from a prominent alliance partner within the National Democratic Alliance (NDA) — a figure with decades of parliamentary experience and respect across the aisle — had discreetly offered to mediate. This leader recognized the growing impatience in the BJP high command and sought to bridge the gap before it became unbridgeable.


However, Dhankhar declined the immediate urgency of this political mediation. “He was confident in his equations with the ideological parent,” a source familiar with the developments stated. “He is close to some of the RSS top functionaries and relied on them to mediate when his equations with the BJP top brass started going astray.”


This reliance on Nagpur to manage New Delhi proved to be a critical miscalculation. Sources indicate that Dhankhar believed his deep ties with the Sangh would act as a buffer, insulating him from the political maneuvering of the ruling party’s executive leadership. He reportedly waited for the “green signal” or intervention from RSS functionaries, delaying the necessary reconciliation with the party leadership.


Cost of delay

The delay in mending ways was fatal. By the time the former Vice President realized that the RSS would not—or could not—overrule the BJP’s strategic decision to replace him, the die had been cast. The drift had become a gulf. The instruction, when it finally came on that fateful July 21, was absolute - he had to vacate the office immediately.


The “untimely sudden resignation” that followed was officially cloaked in medical terminology, but insiders describe a chaotic exit. The former VP, who had recently moved into the lavish new Vice-President’s Enclave, was forced to vacate the premises in haste, leaving behind a tenure marked by both assertive confrontations and, ironically, a final act of silent compliance.


Tears in the Upper House

The ghost of this departure loomed large over Monday’s proceedings. Welcoming the new Chairman, C.P. Radhakrishnan, Mallikarjun Kharge could not hold back his emotions. Breaking away from the customary pleasantries, Kharge launched into a poignant lament for the predecessor who was denied a farewell.


“I am constrained to refer to your predecessor’s completely unexpected and sudden exit from the office of the Rajya Sabha Chairman, which is unprecedented in the annals of parliamentary history,” Kharge said, his voice heavy with emotion.


As Treasury benches erupted in protest, shouting slogans to drown out the discomforting truth, Kharge continued, wiping tears from his eyes. “The Chairman, being the custodian of the entire House, belongs as much to the Opposition as to the government. I was disheartened that the House did not get an opportunity to bid him a farewell. Regardless, we wish him, on behalf of the entire Opposition, a very healthy life.”


The sight of the Leader of the Opposition shedding tears for a presiding officer with whom he had frequently clashed was a striking paradox. It highlighted the Opposition’s narrative that Dhankhar’s removal was not just a personnel change, but an assertion of executive dominance over the legislature.


New chapter with old scars

The government, represented by Parliamentary Affairs Minister Kiren Rijiju, sharply countered Kharge’s remarks, accusing the Opposition of shedding “crocodile tears” after having moved impeachment notices against Dhankhar in the past. “You are insulting the Chair by raising this now,” Rijiju argued amidst the din.


Yet, outside the House, the whispers persisted. The narrative of a Vice President who waited for a call from Nagpur that came too late has firmly taken root. As C.P. Radhakrishnan takes the Chair, he does so not just as a new presiding officer, but as the successor to a man who learned the hard way that in the current dispensation, political alignment with the executive supersedes even the oldest of ideological ties.


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