India’s recent announcement that it will domestically assemble 21 out of the 31 MQ-9B Predator drones purchased from the United States has been touted by government officials and defense enthusiasts alike as a landmark achievement. At first glance, this initiative seems to bolster Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s high-profile campaign for Atmanirbhar Bharat (self-reliant India). The public narrative is straightforward: assembling advanced American-designed drones in Indian factories signifies a major step forward in indigenous defense production and, more broadly, strategic independence. Yet a deeper analysis reveals significant contradictions. Rather than signaling genuine autonomy, the MQ-9B arrangement underlines India’s continued reliance on external military technologies and a broader pattern of strategic fragmentation.
India’s aspiration for defense self-sufficiency is certainly not new. For decades, political leaders across the ideological spectrum have emphasized the need to reduce the country’s substantial dependence on imported weaponry. Yet despite these recurrent commitments, India remains among the largest importers of defense equipment globally. Whether Russian air-defense systems, French fighter jets, Israeli radars, or American transport planes, the Indian armed forces have continually sought external sources to fill critical capability gaps.
Even India’s notable successes in strategic technology development carry underappreciated foreign footprints. The celebrated Agni missile program, for example, grew out of early-stage technology transfers and collaborative assistance received through the civilian satellite launch vehicle (SLV) program, a partnership partly facilitated by American technological cooperation during the Cold War. Similarly, India’s nuclear-weapons program—often lauded domestically as a purely indigenous accomplishment—benefited from quiet European technical support, especially from France. This pattern illustrates a broader historical reality: even India’s proudest achievements of strategic technology often rest on foundations of external collaboration rather than exclusive homegrown innovation.
India’s unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV) development has demonstrated precisely this enduring tension. The country’s indigenous drone initiatives have consistently underperformed, plagued by technical challenges, bureaucratic inefficiencies, and repeated delays. The Rustom UAV, once advertised as India’s answer to America’s Predator drone, remains in developmental limbo nearly two decades after its initial conception. Likewise, the Nishant UAV project was terminated after persistent technical failures, and the highly ambitious Ghatak stealth drone concept has barely advanced beyond paper sketches and scaled-down prototypes.
The persistent failures of these indigenous UAV programs have directly contributed to India’s current reliance on imported platforms. The MQ-9B Predator procurement is not, therefore, evidence of newfound strategic independence; rather, it represents the latest chapter in a familiar story of foreign procurement necessitated by domestic industrial shortcomings. It is a pragmatic acknowledgment of capability gaps, rather than a sign of newfound industrial autonomy.
Yet even this pragmatic acquisition contains strategic pitfalls. The MQ-9B Predator drone, though sophisticated in terms of sensor technology, endurance, and precision strike capabilities, is increasingly questioned within the American defense establishment itself. Originally developed primarily for counterinsurgency and anti-terrorism operations in relatively uncontested environments, the MQ-9 has increasingly demonstrated vulnerability against even modest air defenses. Its operational record in the Middle East, including instances of MQ-9 drones shot down by Iranian and Houthi forces using comparatively inexpensive missile and electronic warfare systems, has led American military planners to reconsider its long-term viability in contested battlespaces. Indeed, the US Air Force is gradually transitioning toward next-generation stealthy, survivable, autonomous drones designed explicitly for potential conflicts with near-peer adversaries.
Given this evolution in American drone strategy, India’s heavy investment in the MQ-9B raises legitimate questions. Why commit substantial resources to a platform whose original operators are beginning to regard as inadequate for future combat scenarios? For a country seeking strategic relevance in the Indo-Pacific and aiming to maintain credible military deterrence, this decision seems curiously shortsighted. The issue becomes more puzzling when viewed alongside India’s recent engagement as an observer in Europe’s Eurodrone program—a European Union-backed initiative aimed explicitly at reducing Europe’s dependence on American UAV technology.
India’s parallel involvement in the Eurodrone initiative is emblematic of broader strategic uncertainty. If India’s acquisition of American drones was intended as a long-term solution to its aerial surveillance and strike needs, why simultaneously hedge by exploring a European program explicitly designed to move away from US systems? The answer likely lies in persistent uncertainty within India’s strategic planning: Indian defense procurement has historically displayed a reactive character, driven more by urgent capability gaps and immediate political pressures rather than coherent long-term strategic planning.
Such ad-hoc procurement risks generating significant operational fragmentation. Modern military effectiveness demands seamless interoperability across diverse platforms, something already challenging for India’s highly diverse inventory. Mixing Russian air-defense platforms, French aircraft, Israeli sensors, and now American and potentially European drones produces an increasingly fragmented force structure, complicating maintenance logistics, increasing operational complexities, and creating serious barriers to effective real-time coordination and communication.
To achieve genuine strategic autonomy, India needs more than piecemeal procurement arrangements or assembly-line symbolic gestures. It requires sustained investment in domestic R&D capacity, coherent military doctrine aligning acquisitions clearly with strategic requirements, and a consistent commitment to technological and operational integration. But, to date, India’s defense acquisitions have often resembled an accumulation of shiny objects rather than a coherent portfolio designed to address clearly defined national interests.
True autonomy comes from the internal capability to design, build, maintain, and continuously improve essential military systems. While foreign collaboration can sometimes aid domestic innovation, it must ultimately support—not substitute for—national capabilities. India’s current trajectory suggests it risks perpetuating the existing pattern of reliance rather than achieving the long-term strategic autonomy it desires.
For India, the MQ-9B Predator assembly decision is not a transformative moment; it is a stark reminder of persistent strategic vulnerabilities. Until New Delhi clearly addresses its internal structural weaknesses, prioritizes doctrinal clarity, and genuinely invests in indigenous industrial capacity, its strategic autonomy will remain more rhetorical ambition than operational reality. Without these critical structural adjustments, India will continue to find itself strategically dependent on foreign suppliers—a challenging position for any country aspiring to great power status.
Author
Zohaib Altaf, Associate Director at Center for International Strategic Studies AJK.
