Sweet Deceit: Honey Trapping and the Indian Security Apparatus

A timeworn tactic, the menace of honey-trapping today endangers India’s military and scientific establishment.

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The Oxford English Dictionary defines honey-trapping as “the use of an attractive person to try to get information from someone.” In military parlance, it is a weaponised form of espionage where seduction becomes subterfuge, romance becomes a ruse and intimacy is a tool for gathering state secrets. While the term may sound contemporary, the practice is anything but. It has been wielded since antiquity including in India, where its legacy is reflected in myth, scripture and history.

Kautilya’s Arthashastra, a seminal work of ancient Indian statecraft, describes how women were deployed as spies to beguile, manipulate and extract information. Indian literature and the Puranas are replete with similar tales.

This stratagem has been used by states across time and geography. In the Hebrew Bible, we have the instance of Esther, a Jewish woman, who uses her beauty and access to the Persian king Ahasuerus to save her people. While framed as divine providence, it also represents a proto-honey-trap moment rooted in narrative strategy.

Similarly, Feudal Japan’s ninjas often used ‘kunoichi’ - female agents trained in charm and deception. Manuals like Bansenshukai (1676) describe using women for infiltration, especially in enemy households.

In later eras, Mughal emperors and British colonisers employed the method to similar ends by sometimes coercing, sometimes wooing women in elite circles to influence or infiltrate powerful Indian households.

Margaretha Zelle, known as Mata Hari, was an exotic Dutch dancer and courtesan executed by France in 1917 during WWI for allegedly spying for Germany. She became the archetype of the honey-trap agent, her legend born from both wartime paranoia and the real dangers of intimate espionage.

During the Cold War, Soviet ‘Mozhno girls’ who were trained KGB operatives often targeted foreign diplomats with carefully calibrated charm. In 2009, Britain’s MI5 exposed extensive Chinese attempts to entrap and blackmail influential Westerners using similar tactics.

Even today, honey-trapping remains an active espionage tool, employed by agencies across the world. That such practices raise ethical concerns ranging from privacy invasion to the exploitation of human vulnerability is undeniable. But the more pressing worry is its continued and corrosive threat to national security. India, unfortunately, has not been spared.

Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI), in particular, has been relentless in its efforts to exploit Indian defence personnel. Its playbook is a blend of old tricks and new tech: fake female profiles on Facebook, Instagram, or dating apps are created to lure Indian soldiers, scientists, and clerks into seemingly innocent chats. These interactions gradually turn flirtatious, even romantic, building trust over weeks or months.

Once the trap is set, the questions turn pointed - about troop deployments, strategic assets or classified designs. The target, now emotionally invested or financially compromised, becomes an unwilling informant. Sometimes, blackmail or bribery follows. The fallout can be catastrophic.

Consider the case of Nishant Agrawal, a former scientist at BrahMos Aerospace in Nagpur. Lured by a Pakistani handler posing as a woman, he was persuaded to leak sensitive military secrets in exchange for favours. He was arrested, prosecuted, and convicted. Another instance involves Sombir Singh, a soldier stationed along the India-Pakistan border, who was trapped through a fake Facebook profile. He too shared operational details in exchange for money.

The list goes on. The National Investigation Agency (NIA) has uncovered several such cases: Indian Navy personnel ensnared by operatives posing as citizens; defence consultant Abhishek Verma accused of using relationships to obtain classified data; and most recently, DRDO scientist Pradeep Kurulkar, who allegedly shared confidential details with a woman who was revealed later to be a Pakistani agent named Zara Dasgupta.

These are symptoms of a wider vulnerability. Recognising the threat, India’s defence establishment has moved into damage-control mode. Sensitisation drives are now routine, particularly in training academies, to make recruits aware of digital entrapment. Advisories are issued regularly. Counterintelligence agencies are trawling social media platforms for red flags. Prosecution under the Official Secrets Act has become more stringent.

The armed forces have also imposed new digital hygiene protocols. Social media guidelines discourage personnel from displaying rank, posting in uniform, or sharing workplace details online. They are warned against befriending strangers or responding to unsolicited messages. Mobile phone use inside secure facilities has been curtailed. Notably, the Indian Army has begun testing AI-powered chatbots to simulate honey-trap scenarios and train soldiers in real-time response and resistance.

On the civilian side, the Indian Cybercrime Coordination Centre (I4C) has expanded its remit. Through its National Cybercrime Reporting Portal, citizens can now flag suspicious interactions, adding a layer of public vigilance to national cybersecurity.

Yet the problem persists. In a world of ubiquitous connectivity, where state secrets are only a chatbox away, the line between personal and political has blurred dangerously. Hostile intelligence agencies, from Pakistan to China and beyond, continue to find new ways to exploit human susceptibility.

As citizens, awareness is the first line of defence. The more connected the world becomes, the easier it is to fall into such traps. And the cost which is measured in leaked secrets, compromised lives and endangered national interests can be far too high.

(The writer is a retired naval aviation officer and geopolitical analyst. Views personal.)