top of page

By:

Rajiv Shah

22 September 2025 at 8:32:23 pm

New Alliances, New Pressures, New Fault Lines

To its west, old relationships in the Gulf are acquiring new strategic and military dimensions. Across the Atlantic, Washington is increasingly using tariffs as an instrument of foreign policy. At the same time, India holds the BRICS presidency in 2026 and prepares to host its summit when the grouping is being watched in the West as a potential challenge to the American-dominated global financial order. Individually, these developments may appear unrelated. Put together, they reveal a larger...

New Alliances, New Pressures, New Fault Lines

To its west, old relationships in the Gulf are acquiring new strategic and military dimensions. Across the Atlantic, Washington is increasingly using tariffs as an instrument of foreign policy. At the same time, India holds the BRICS presidency in 2026 and prepares to host its summit when the grouping is being watched in the West as a potential challenge to the American-dominated global financial order. Individually, these developments may appear unrelated. Put together, they reveal a larger geopolitical churn in which alliances, energy, trade, currencies and economic coercion are becoming interconnected. India finds itself almost at its centre. The emerging Saudi Arabia–Türkiye–Pakistan security equation deserves particular attention. Saudi Arabia brings enormous financial and energy influence; Türkiye possesses considerable military strength, NATO experience and an expanding defence industry; Pakistan brings a large military establishment and nuclear capability with the open support of Washington. Any arrangement containing a collective-defence commitment naturally acquires significance beyond ordinary diplomatic cooperation. Alongside it, another strategic convergence has gradually developed among India, Israel and the UAE. It would be incorrect to describe this as a formal military alliance. Yet geopolitics does not operate through defence treaties alone. India's extensive defence and technology relationship with Israel, its rapidly expanding economic and strategic partnership with the UAE, and the UAE-Israel relationship following the Abraham Accords have created considerable common ground. I2U2—bringing together India, Israel, the UAE and the United States—added another institutional dimension. Thus, without necessarily becoming opposing military camps, two interesting strategic formations are visible across West Asia: Saudi Arabia–Türkiye–Pakistan and the looser India–UAE–Israel convergence. Balancing Challenge India faces a similar balancing challenge. The Gulf is not a distant geopolitical theatre for New Delhi. Nearly nine million Indians live and work there. India's energy security, investments, trade and remittance flows are closely connected with the region. The proposed India-Middle East-Europe Economic Corridor also requires relative stability across this geography. Polarisation in West Asia can therefore rapidly become an Indian economic and strategic problem. There is another question Indian planners cannot ignore. If a future India-Pakistan confrontation escalates, how would any collective-defence commitment involving Pakistan be interpreted by Saudi Arabia and Türkiye? It would be alarmist to assume that either country would automatically enter a conflict against India. Saudi Arabia, in particular, has substantial economic and strategic interests in maintaining good relations with New Delhi. Nevertheless, defence planners are paid to examine possibilities before they become crises. While these equations develop in India's neighbourhood, economic pressure is emerging from Washington. The US Senate has voted 86–11 for legislation intended to increase pressure on Russia by targeting major purchasers of Russian energy. The measure could authorise tariffs reaching 100 per cent against goods from countries continuing large-scale purchases of Russian oil and gas, with India among those potentially exposed. China is powerful enough to shrug off similar challenges from the West." However this does not mean that America has already imposed a 100 per cent tariff on India. Further legislative steps remain necessary, and presidential waiver provisions are important. But the overwhelming Senate vote carries a political message that New Delhi cannot dismiss. Tariffs are no longer merely tools of trade protection; they have become instruments of geopolitical coercion. Washington's argument is understandable: revenues from Russian petroleum help sustain Moscow's economy during the Ukraine war, and reducing those revenues increases pressure on Russia. But in that case what about European countries who too were/are customers of Russian oil? India's question is equally legitimate: who should determine where India purchases the energy required by more than 1.4 billion people? If Russian crude remains commercially advantageous and helps contain domestic energy costs, New Delhi cannot reasonably be expected to make every energy decision according to another country's geopolitical priorities. Strategic partnership cannot become strategic obedience. This is where BRICS enters the larger picture. India holds the BRICS presidency in 2026 and will host its leaders at an unusually sensitive moment. BRICS is no longer merely the original grouping of Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa. Its expansion has considerably increased its demographic, energy and geopolitical weight. More importantly, discussions around BRICS increasingly touch a sensitive nerve in Washington: alternative payment mechanisms, local-currency trade, development finance and the possibility of gradually reducing dependence upon the dollar-dominated international financial system. The BRICS Summit this time is poised to take some decisive steps which may affect western interests especially US. (The writer is an advocate, legal, geopolitical and public policy analyst. Views personal.)

What the World Can Learn from India’s 1971 War

Our country’s conduct in the 1971 War with Pakistan offers several lessons at a time when the principles of peaceful coexistence and a rules-based global order are in freefall.

History shows that any war in the Middle East has a way of expanding beyond its declared aims. The ongoing confrontation involving the U.S.-Israel and Iran, now stretching into its second month, has already outgrown its immediate theatre, unsettling energy markets, rattling allies and inviting a familiar contest of narratives. Washington and Jerusalem have framed their case in moral and strategic terms that an oppressive regime in Tehran must be checked, its nuclear ambitions curtailed and its people, in time, empowered. Iran, unsurprisingly, casts the conflict as naked aggression, a violation of sovereignty dressed up as ‘liberation.’


Between these competing claims lies a question as old as statecraft itself: when, if ever, does intervention become justifiable? And more pointedly, who decides? The answers are rarely neat. Iran’s post-1979 history is replete with episodes of domestic unrest over elections, economic malaise, and social restrictions, particularly those affecting women. Protests have often been met with repression. Yet the existence of internal dissent, however grave, does not furnish an uncomplicated mandate for external military action. If it did, the modern world would be in a state of near-permanent war.


Responsible Conduct

This is where historical analogy, used carefully, can illuminate rather than obscure. India’s intervention in the subcontinent in 1971, culminating in the birth of Bangladesh, offers one such lens. It is frequently invoked in Indian discourse, sometimes too readily, but its particulars are instructive. The crisis in what was then East Pakistan was not merely a matter of internal dissent. It had spiralled into a humanitarian catastrophe, sending millions of refugees across the border into India, straining its economy and destabilising its eastern flank. The Pakistani military’s crackdown on Bengali civilians, widely documented at the time, lent urgency to India’s case.


New Delhi’s response was neither impulsive nor cloaked in abstraction. It combined diplomatic outreach, humanitarian concern and, ultimately, military action. Crucially, India’s support for the Mukti Bahini (local Bangladeshi resistance fighters) was embedded in a broader objective which was to end a crisis that had direct consequences for its own stability. The war that followed was short, decisive and, by the standards of interstate conflict, unusually clear in its outcome. Within weeks, Pakistani forces surrendered, and a new state emerged.


It is tempting, particularly for those sympathetic to Western aims in Iran, to draw a straight line between 1971 and the present. Are not the stated objectives similar - liberation from oppression, support for local agency, the promise of a better political order? Yet such parallels, while superficially appealing, elide critical differences. India’s intervention was preceded by months of restraint and diplomatic effort. It was anchored in an immediate and overwhelming refugee crisis. And it was bounded by a clear end-state: the cessation of violence and the establishment of a sovereign Bangladesh, not the indefinite remaking of a distant polity.


Equally important was what India did not do. It did not seek to occupy territory beyond the conflict’s objectives, nor did it attempt to extract sweeping political concessions from a defeated Pakistan. The release of tens of thousands of prisoners of war, without maximalist bargaining, has often been criticised in hindsight as naïve. But it also underscored a broader point: that the war’s purpose was not expansionist, even if it yielded significant strategic dividends, including the partition of a hostile neighbour.


Moral Clarity

Such clarity of purpose is conspicuously absent in many contemporary interventions. From Iraq to Afghanistan, and now in the shadow of a possible escalation with Iran, the line between stated aims and underlying motives has often blurred. Energy security, regime change, regional dominance - these are seldom absent from the calculus, even when cloaked in the language of democracy and human rights. The result is a pattern of selective idealism: indignation in one theatre, indulgence in another; a hard line on proliferation here, a studied silence there.


India, to its credit, has largely avoided this trap in its external posture, even if not always to universal approval. Its current stance on the Iran conflict - urging de-escalation while refraining from outright condemnation or mediation - has drawn criticism at home, particularly from opposition parties. Yet this position is consistent with a long-standing principle: that bilateral conflicts are best resolved by the parties involved, without unsolicited third-party intervention. It is a principle India has guarded jealously in its own disputes, and it would be incongruous to abandon it now for rhetorical satisfaction.


Domestic critics, especially those invoking the moral clarity of 1971, would do well to acknowledge these nuances. The intervention under Indira Gandhi is rightly remembered as decisive and, in many respects, just. But it was also exceptional in that it was a convergence of humanitarian urgency, strategic necessity and political will. To treat it as a universal template for intervention risks oversimplifying both the past and the present.


Marked Restraint

For the wider world, the lessons are more sobering. The first is restraint. India’s record, notwithstanding periodic tensions, has been marked by a reluctance to initiate conflict. This has not insulated it from criticism, but it has lent credibility to its actions when it has chosen to act. The second is consistency. A foreign policy that aligns rhetoric with action and eschews the temptation to apply principles selectively, commands a different kind of authority, one that is in short supply in today’s fractured order.


The third, and perhaps most elusive, is clarity of purpose. The 1971 war had a defined objective and, just as importantly, a defined end. It did not metastasise into an open-ended project of nation-building or ideological transformation. Contrast this with the protracted conflicts of the 21st century - from war in Afghanistan to the ongoing Russia–Ukraine War - where shifting goals and uncertain exits have imposed staggering costs without commensurate gains.


As the Middle East edges deeper into uncertainty, such distinctions matter. Calls for regime change, however justified they may appear, carry consequences that extend far beyond their immediate targets. They risk entrenching the very instability they seek to resolve, particularly when unaccompanied by a credible plan for what follows.


The principle of sovereignty, much invoked and often breached, remains a cornerstone of the international system. Yet it is not absolute. The challenge lies in navigating the narrow space between non-interference and necessary action - a task that demands not just power, but prudence. India’s experience in 1971 does not offer a ready-made blueprint. But it does provide a reminder that interventions, to be legitimate and effective, must be grounded in necessity, executed with restraint, and concluded with clarity.


In an era of convenient moralities and elastic principles, that is lesson enough.


(The writer works in the Information Technology sector. Views personal.)

Comments


bottom of page