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By:

Kedar Kulkarni

28 May 2026 at 5:09:28 am

72 Hours in May: India’s Defence Ecosystem Comes of Age

Last month saw three major indigenous defence breakthroughs in three days, underscoring India’s growing ability to build strategic technologies at home. AI generated image For most of its post-independence history, India’s strategic establishment has had a peculiar relationship with military power. Major acquisitions were announced in press conferences. Sophisticated platforms were purchased abroad. The long years of design work, testing and technological development often occurred out of...

72 Hours in May: India’s Defence Ecosystem Comes of Age

Last month saw three major indigenous defence breakthroughs in three days, underscoring India’s growing ability to build strategic technologies at home. AI generated image For most of its post-independence history, India’s strategic establishment has had a peculiar relationship with military power. Major acquisitions were announced in press conferences. Sophisticated platforms were purchased abroad. The long years of design work, testing and technological development often occurred out of public view, frequently in partnership with a Soviet and later Russian supplier, and were judged only by results that emerged decades later. India’s defence story, for much of that history, was one of patient procurement. In recent years, it has begun to look rather different. Significant Milestones Between May 7 and May 9, the Defence Research and Development Organisation (DRDO) conducted three separate tests of three distinct technologies. While any one of them would ordinarily have commanded headlines of its own, the tests were three significant milestones in a span of seventy-two hours. On May 7, off the Odisha coast, an Indian Air Force Jaguar dropped a 500-kilogram bomb fitted with what the Ministry of Defence calls India’s first indigenous glide weapon system, the Tactical Advanced Range Augmentation kit, or TARA. The technology is deceptively modest. It converts conventional unguided bombs already held in large numbers by the Air Force into stand-off, precision-guided munitions, reducing dependence on imported systems such as the Israeli SPICE-2000 and moving India closer to the capability long provided by America’s JDAM family of kits. A day later, from the Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam Island, India conducted a successful flight trial of an Advanced Agni missile equipped with a Multiple Independently Targeted Re-entry Vehicle (MIRV) system. The Ministry stated that multiple payloads were delivered to distinct targets distributed across a wide area of the Indian Ocean. While the missile variant has not been formally identified, defence reporting has suggested it may be the long-anticipated Agni-VI. Whatever its nomenclature, the test marked a significant progression beyond Mission Divyastra of March 2024, which first demonstrated India’s MIRV capability. Then, on May 9 in Hyderabad, DRDO’s Defence Research and Development Laboratory successfully ran a full-scale scramjet combustor continuously for more than 1,200 seconds. Twenty minutes of sustained supersonic combustion may sound esoteric, but it represents one of the essential building blocks of a future hypersonic cruise missile. Defence Minister Rajnath Singh described the achievement as laying “a solid foundation” for India’s Hypersonic Cruise Missile Development Programme. Viewed individually, none of these tests fundamentally alters the strategic balance. India had already demonstrated MIRV technology. It had previously conducted a full-scale scramjet burn. Stand-off precision munitions have been under development for years. What is new is the clustering. The timing falls within a particularly significant calendar in India’s recent strategic history. Roughly a year earlier, during the first week of May 2025, India launched Operation Sindoor against terrorist infrastructure in Pakistan. For the first time, indigenous systems including BrahMos missiles, domestic air-defence networks and a growing inventory of Indian precision weapons were employed at scale under combat conditions. Since then, the Indian government has repeatedly framed Sindoor not merely as a military operation but as a symbol of India’s political, social and strategic will. The coincidence of these three tests with the operation’s anniversary is hardly accidental. The tests also occurred amid a more complicated geopolitical backdrop. Over the past year, New Delhi has grappled with renewed tensions with Washington over tariffs, Russian oil imports and the continuing shadow of potential CAATSA-related sanctions. For decades, Russia supplied many of India's most important military platforms, from Sukhoi fighters and T-90 tanks to S-400 systems and the jointly developed BrahMos missile. Recent geopolitical turbulence has served as a reminder that excessive dependence on any single supplier carries strategic risks. Against that backdrop, the scramjet milestone deserves particularly close attention. Nearly every major Indian hypersonic headline of the past two decades has been BrahMos-derived, which is to say it has rested on technology co-developed with Moscow's NPO Mashinostroyeniya. The combustor that ran for twenty minutes in Hyderabad, by contrast, is a Defence Research and Development Laboratory design, fuelled by indigenous hydrocarbon chemistry and supported by industry partners drawn from India's domestic supply chain. It is the first major brick in India’s hypersonic wall laid without a Russian hand on the trowel. The BrahMos-II programme, originally conceived as a Russian-assisted hypersonic successor, has reportedly progressed more slowly than anticipated owing to cost and developmental challenges. Increasingly, the architecture being pursued by DRDO appears to be the one now undergoing testing in Hyderabad. The strategic significance is difficult to overstate. For the first time, India is developing a critical-path hypersonic capability whose progress cannot be halted, delayed or conditioned by a foreign partner. Industrial Backbone India’s defence production crossed Rs. 1.51 lakh crore in 2024-25, an all-time high and an increase of 18 percent over the previous year. Defence exports reached Rs. 23,622 crore, more than thirty times their level a decade earlier, while nearly 16,000 micro, small and medium enterprises now participate in the country's defence manufacturing ecosystem. Behind those figures lies a series of policy interventions whose effects are only now becoming visible. Programmes such as Innovations for Defence Excellence (iDEX), the ADITI initiative and the Defence Industrial Corridors in Uttar Pradesh and Tamil Nadu have sought to connect laboratories, start-ups, private manufacturers and the armed forces into a single innovation ecosystem. The BrahMos Integration and Testing Facility in Lucknow, inaugurated in 2025, has become a particularly visible symbol of this transformation. The objective is to build increasingly sophisticated technologies within the country itself. The TARA glide kit offers a useful example. Developed by Research Centre Imarat in Hyderabad through the Development-cum-Production Partner model, it brings together DRDO laboratories and private-sector manufacturing. The Advanced Agni programme similarly rests upon a network of indigenous suppliers specialising in metallurgy, guidance systems, electronics and rocketry. The scramjet combustor, meanwhile, was designed by DRDL and realised through domestic industrial partnerships. Progress Without Illusion None of this is to exaggerate India’s current position. The TARA kit arrives years after comparable Western systems entered service. The Advanced Agni's warhead count and effective range remain undisclosed. The scramjet achievement, impressive as it is, still remains a ground test. China and Russia already field operational hypersonic weapons, while the United States has begun deploying its own. So, while the gap remains real, the significance of the seventy-two hours between May 7 and May 9 lies in what the cluster reveals about the state of India’s defence-industrial base. Three indigenous systems, spanning precision-strike capability, strategic deterrence and future hypersonic warfare, reached important milestones within days of one another. They emerged from different laboratories and drew upon different industrial networks. Yet all reflected that India’s strategic technology ecosystem has reached a level of maturity at which meaningful advances increasingly emerge on its own timetable. The message is directed not only at Beijing and Islamabad, but also at Washington and Moscow. India’s strategic capabilities will continue to benefit from international partnerships. But the country’s most consequential military technologies are increasingly being designed, tested and produced at home. When Rajnath Singh flagged off the first batch of Indian-built BrahMos missiles in Lucknow in October last year, he observed that India had moved into the role of “a giver, not just a taker.” The phrase was intended to describe defence exports. So, while the era of patient procurement is not exactly over, it certainly is no longer the whole story. (The writer is Assistant Professor at the Ajeenkya D.Y. Patil University and a doctoral scholar in geopolitics. Views personal.)

Racial Harmony Over Viral Hate

Amid a surge in online ‘anti-Indian’ narratives, Singapore’s decisive intervention has offered a model that many Western democracies have often shied away from.

Last week, Singapore ordered three major social-media platforms to block access to 14 posts believed to have originated in China. The content allegedly targeted the Indian community and sought to chip away at the city-state’s carefully cultivated model of multiculturalism.


The move was striking not only for its speed, but for its clarity. Where many Western democracies often vacillate between lofty free-speech rhetoric and the messy realities of online hatred, Singapore chose decisiveness. Faced with content that appeared designed to inflame racial tensions, the government moved swiftly to shield a vulnerable community and signal that digital platforms would not be allowed to become incubators of ethnic hostility.


As per reports, the police have issued directions to YouTube, Facebook, and X, to take all reasonable steps to prevent Singapore users from accessing the content. At a time when racial hatred, fake news and foreign influence operations have become increasingly sophisticated, Singapore has sent an unequivocal message: any attempt to divide its society along racial lines will be met with swift and decisive action.


Overseas Mischief

Singapore’s Second Minister for Home Affairs, Edwin Tong, said the content appeared to have originated overseas. He stressed that the government would not tolerate narratives aimed at undermining racial harmony, especially when driven by foreign actors. Singapore invoked the Online Criminal Harms Act 2023 (OCHA), which allows authorities to issue rapid “Disabling Directions” to internet intermediaries to curb content deemed harmful to public safety and social harmony.


According to the authorities, anti-India narratives began circulating last month in Chinese-language online spaces. The posts claimed that Singapore was being overrun by Indians and that official promotion of diversity was merely an attempt to curry favour with the West. More troublingly, some argued that Singapore's stability owed little to its multicultural success story and everything to the ethnic Chinese majority, implying that social harmony rested on demographics rather than shared citizenship.


Other posts questioned the loyalty of Singapore’s Indian politicians, suggesting they would place the interests of Indian immigrants above those of the country. The rhetoric then grew more overtly exclusionary. Some posts portrayed Singaporean culture as fundamentally Chinese and warned that a growing Indian presence, coupled with what they described as Singapore’s drift away from China, would have dire consequences for the city-state.


Demeaning References

The campaign relied heavily on selective imagery: photographs of Indian festivals in crowded public spaces and videos from neighbourhoods with large Indian populations, many apparently filmed on weekends when migrant workers were off duty. Sans context, the material appeared designed to reinforce negative stereotypes and inflame resentment against Singapore’s Indian community.


The language was often openly derogatory. A report in ‘The Straits Times’ alleged that some posts had compared the growth of Singapore’s Indian population to an increasing “concentration of curry,” among other demeaning references. Such language left little doubt about the campaign’s intent.


Singaporean authorities suspected a coordinated effort and said the content appeared to have originated on a China-based platform. What stands out, however, is not merely the source of the campaign but the speed of the response. The government did not wait for online hostility to spill onto the streets. Nor did it allow the debate to become so polarised that it would be difficult to contain. Instead, it intervened early, treating the threat as a matter of public order rather than merely online discourse.

That matters to India. As the country’s global footprint expands, so too does the visibility of its diaspora. Indians today lead multinational companies, universities, research institutions and governments across the world. Success brings opportunity, but it can also invite resentment. In the age of social media, such hostility can be amplified with unprecedented speed and reach.


Digital Interference

Whether other countries will follow Singapore’s example remains an open question. If any country understands the dangers of digital interference, it is India. New Delhi has seen firsthand how online platforms can shape narratives, influence public opinion and, in some cases, create national-security concerns. That understanding partly informed its 2020 decision to ban dozens of Chinese applications, including TikTok, on grounds of sovereignty and security.


The broader point was clear: the digital world is not separate from the real one. Online platforms are not merely channels of communication; they can also serve as instruments of influence, manipulation and interference.


In that respect, Singapore’s response closely mirrors India’s own understanding of the risks posed by digital ecosystems. Many Western democracies have taken a different approach, often preferring to tolerate inflammatory content in the name of free expression. Singapore chose otherwise. It viewed the material not simply as offensive speech but as content directed at a specific community and capable of undermining social cohesion. Implicit in that assessment was the belief that anti-Indian racial agitation was not merely a social problem but potentially a national-security concern.


The lesson extends far beyond Singapore. In an era when propaganda travels faster than verified facts and divisive narratives can reach millions within minutes, governments can ill afford to underestimate the disruptive power of digital interference or the real-world consequences that may follow.

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