Coercive Resolutions Don’t Resolve Issues: Dialogue, the Instrument of Democratic Resilience

By Aditi Nayar
New Delhi, July 25, 2026

Hannah Arendt observed that violence is never the essence of power but its admission of weakness. Mohandas Gandhi, in his own idiom, insisted that true authority rests not in coercion but in consent. Taken together, their insights expose a paradox at the heart of modern governance: the state claims legitimacy through protection. Yet, too often, it reaches reflexively for the baton, or the tear-gas canister when persuasion should have sufficed. The asymmetry is glaring. Citizens may protest, petition or disobey. But the state alone reserves the monopoly of ‘legitimate’ violence. This monopoly, Max Weber argued, defines sovereignty. Yet, when deployed against the very people it purports to shield, it corrodes the foundation of its own legitimacy, as we have seen in the US with ICE agents freely doling out their version of coercive ‘justice’ [citation:original text].

A government that greets dissent with truncheons is not demonstrating strength but confessing fragility. The more a state relies on force as a shortcut to quell peaceful contestation — ironically resorting to such contestations as ‘anarchic’ or ‘manipulated’ — the more unsure it appears of its own power. Democracies thrive on disagreement. To suppress it by force is to betray their own premise. Authoritarian regimes, of course, are built on no questions asked obedience. When democracies mimic this reflex, they risk resembling the very thing they claim to oppose [citation:original text].

The Philosophical Roots of Coercion’s Failure

Arendt and Gandhi share a conviction that power structures based on violence and coercion will ultimately fail, because the resort to violence implies an inability to gain free consent or cooperation . Arendt insisted that “power and violence are opposites,” since power emerges when the threat of violence is not needed, for all freely consent to a certain action and act of their own volition . Any gains from violence are temporary, since agents will express themselves freely as soon as force is withdrawn .

This is precisely what has unfolded at Jantar Mantar. The government’s heavy-handed response on July 20, which included lathi charges and tear gas against thousands of peaceful student protesters, did not disperse the movement. It galvanized it. What was already a significant protest swelled into a nationwide movement, drawing support from opposition parties and civil society across the country . As the Supreme Court Bar Association noted, the use of force was “deeply disturbing and wholly unacceptable in a democratic society” . The Supreme Court Advocates-on-Record Association reminded the state that “the strength of our Republic lies not in suppressing dissent but in protecting it within the framework of the Constitution” .

The Failure of Force: A Case Study

The protests, led by the Cockroach Janta Party (CJP), began as a satirical online movement demanding accountability over repeated paper leaks in competitive examinations like NEET, which have affected millions of students and been linked to dozens of suicides . The anger did not emerge overnight. It has accumulated over examination cycles, particularly since the 2024 NEET controversy [citation:original text]. The movement gained traction after activist Sonam Wangchuk joined and undertook a hunger strike. He was forcibly removed from the protest site by police on Saturday and taken to hospital where he continued to fast [citation:original text]. The administration’s response, in line with Arendt’s analysis, was not a display of power but a confession of its fragility [citation:original text].

Instead of engaging with the protesters’ concerns and initiating the necessary reforms to the education system, the government responded with brute force and a digital crackdown. Delhi Police investigated a “conspiracy angle” behind the violence, analyzing mobile tower data and blocking 480 social media accounts allegedly spreading misinformation from Pakistan . The government also suspended internet services in parts of central Delhi, shut down metro stations, and allegedly invoked the National Security Act (NSA) against some students . This is the classic response of a state that has lost faith in its power to convince and has instead resorted to coercion and manipulation, which Arendt argued are the tools of a dominating power that has lost the ability to gain free consent .

The Promise of Dialogue

Dialogue, negotiation and compromise are slower, messier and less theatrical than riot police on TV screens. Yet, they are true instruments of democratic resilience. A state’s legitimacy is measured not by the size of its arsenal but by the restraint with which it is used. The more a government can govern without resorting to flexing of muscles against its own citizenry, the more it commands genuine authority. The more it leans on force, the more it reveals itself as unconvinced of its own powers to convince. In the end, the truest protection a state can offer its citizens is the promise of listening in good faith [citation:original text].

The Supreme Court has agreed to hear petitions on the police action on July 27 . The government has now held two rounds of talks with CJP representatives and announced fast-track courts for paper leak cases . But the fundamental lesson remains unlearned. “Coercive measures and repeated restrictions will never yield positive results,” as the Hurriyat Conference chairman Mirwaiz Umar Farooq noted in a different context, adding that “hearts and minds cannot be won through coercion but through compassion and understanding” . The government’s response to the Jantar Mantar protests is a textbook case of how not to handle dissent in a democracy. It has not resolved the crisis of trust; it has deepened it.

Q&A Section

1. What is the central argument of the article regarding state power and protest?

The article argues, drawing on Hannah Arendt and Mahatma Gandhi, that a state’s resort to violence against its own citizens is an admission of weakness, not strength. It contends that democracies that suppress dissent through coercion betray their own premise and erode their legitimacy. True authority rests on consent, and a state’s legitimacy is measured by its restraint in using force.

2. How did the government respond to the July 20 student protests at Jantar Mantar?

The government responded with a heavy-handed police crackdown, including lathi charges, tear gas, and reportedly pellet guns against peaceful student protesters. The government also suspended internet services, shut down metro stations, and allegedly invoked the National Security Act (NSA) against some protesters. Additionally, the police investigated a “conspiracy angle” and blocked hundreds of social media accounts.

3. What does Hannah Arendt’s philosophy say about the relationship between power and violence?

Arendt argued that “power and violence are opposites.” Power emerges when people freely consent to and engage in concerted action without the threat of force. Violence, conversely, is a sign of impotence—a government resorts to it only when it has lost the ability to gain free consent or cooperation. Any gains from violence are temporary, as people will express themselves freely when force is withdrawn.

4. What role did the judiciary play in the aftermath of the crackdown?

The Supreme Court agreed to hear petitions on July 27 regarding alleged police excesses against students. The Supreme Court Bar Association and the Supreme Court Advocates-on-Record Association condemned the police action as “unacceptable in a democratic society.” The Delhi High Court has also sought a response from the government on a related plea.

5. What are the broader implications of the government’s response for Indian democracy?

The government’s reliance on force instead of dialogue deepens youth disillusionment with the democratic system. It signals that the state is unwilling to engage with genuine concerns, which can lead to greater alienation and erosion of public trust. As the article notes, “a government that greets dissent with truncheons is not demonstrating strength but confessing fragility.”

Apple and Nvidia Tango at the Top: A New AI Era Dawns

By Aditi Nayar
New Delhi, July 25, 2026

In a high-stakes duel that has captured the attention of global markets, Apple and Nvidia have been locked in a neck-and-neck battle for the title of the world’s most valuable company . Last week, the two tech titans traded the top spot, with Apple briefly reclaiming the crown it last held in April 2025, touching a market capitalization of about $4.9 trillion against Nvidia’s roughly $4.8 trillion . While Nvidia edged back ahead, the razor-thin margin—often just a few tens of billions of dollars—signals a profound shift in investor sentiment, moving beyond the speculative frenzy of the AI infrastructure buildout to a more discerning focus on long-term value creation and monetization .

The Diverging Paths of Two Titans

The year 2026 has painted two very different pictures for these tech behemoths. Apple, up roughly 22-23% this year, has outperformed the market and nearly all of its Magnificent Seven peers . This rally is a reward for its disciplined, ecosystem-driven approach to AI. The company has deliberately stayed away from the capital-intensive race to build ever-larger foundation models, choosing instead to focus on consumer services, privacy, and deeply integrated hardware-software experiences .

Nvidia, on the other hand, has seen its stock gain a relatively modest 7-9% after a period of explosive growth . The chipmaker, which became the first company to surpass a $5 trillion market cap in October 2025, is now grappling with a sentiment shift . Investors are growing cautious about the sustainability of the massive AI infrastructure spending, which is impacting chip stocks broadly; the Philadelphia SE Semiconductor Index has dropped nearly 19% from its all-time highs .

The AI Strategies: Capex vs. Monetization

Beyond the numbers, this tango at the top signals investors looking beyond AI’s speculative upside . Apple has deliberately stayed away from the AI infrastructure race, choosing to focus on consumer services rather than building AI models. This made it a laggard in m-cap sweepstakes as AI mania gripped investors. Nvidia was the obvious beneficiary. But the rally has hoisted other chipmakers like Micron and SK Hynix as well. But both consumer-focused Apple and chipmaker Nvidia stand to gain no matter the outcome .

Consumer electronics is caught on the wrong side of the chip wars. Apple recently increased prices of its MacBooks and iPads due to soaring AI demand for memory and storage chips . However, its lower capex intensity allows it to monetise AI easier. It recently overhauled Siri to catch up with leaders in the AI race . A combo of AI services, a closed ecosystem and hardware upgrades places Apple at an advantage to cash in .

Nvidia, on its part, is coming down from a market valuation of over $5tn because of a shift in sentiment . The company’s GPUs will keep powering generative AI. Over the years, Nvidia has built an ecosystem to lock developers into its platform. It focuses on research, design and software while outsourcing its chips to contract manufacturers. Much like Apple’s strategy in consumer electronics. The two companies have created unique business models in their respective industries to build wide moats around their near-monopolies. Expect them to continue duking it out for top slot .

Q&A Section

1. Why did Apple briefly overtake Nvidia as the world’s most valuable company?

Apple’s market cap briefly surpassed Nvidia’s as investors shifted their focus from companies building AI infrastructure to those poised to monetize it. Apple is seen as less exposed to the capital-intensive costs of AI development and better positioned to generate revenue through its services, ecosystem, and hardware upgrades . Analysts noted that the re-rating “reflects confidence in earnings durability rather than speculative AI upside” .

2. How have the two companies’ stocks performed in 2026?

In 2026, Apple has surged nearly 23%, significantly outperforming the market and its tech peers . Nvidia, conversely, has gained only about 7-9%, reflecting a cooling sentiment towards AI chipmakers and the infrastructure buildout .

3. What is Apple’s strategy in the AI race?

Apple has deliberately avoided the race to build massive, expensive AI models. Instead, it focuses on integrating AI into its existing ecosystem of over 2.5 billion active devices . The company’s strategy centers on privacy-focused, on-device AI experiences powered by its custom silicon, allowing it to monetize AI through services and hardware upgrades without the immense capex of its competitors .

4. What are the risks for Nvidia despite its dominance in AI chips?

Despite its near-monopoly in AI processors, Nvidia faces risks from a shift in market sentiment. Investors are questioning whether the massive spending on AI infrastructure will yield near-term profits . This has led to a sell-off in chip stocks, with the Philadelphia SE Semiconductor Index falling nearly 19% from its highs . Any sign of slowing AI adoption could heavily impact the company .

5. What other companies are benefiting from the broader AI wave?

While Nvidia and Apple have captured the top spots, the AI enthusiasm has spread to other corners of the semiconductor industry. Memory chipmakers like Micron and SK Hynix have become major beneficiaries, with Micron crossing $1 trillion in market value in May 2026 . The AI market is expanding from the tech giants into a wider number of companies in the value chain .

India’s Space Paradox: When Losing Talent Becomes a Sign of National Progress

A Turning Point in Indian Space History

The third week of July 2026 will be remembered as one of the most dramatic chapters in India’s space journey. Within a span of just a few days, two seemingly contradictory yet deeply interconnected events unfolded, painting a complex picture of a nation grappling with the realities of the “New Space” era.

On July 18, 2026, a rocket named Vikram-1 roared to life from the Satish Dhawan Space Centre at Sriharikota, carrying multiple commercial payloads into low Earth orbit. While rocket launches are not uncommon, this one carried exceptional significance—this vehicle was not built by the Indian Space Research Organisation (ISRO), the government agency that had been synonymous with India’s space exploration for decades. It was developed entirely by Skyroot Aerospace, a Hyderabad-based startup. With this successful launch, India became only the third country in the world—after the United States and China—to have a private sector capable of building and launching orbital-class rockets.

However, as the nation celebrated this monumental achievement, another development sent ripples through the space community: over 100 senior scientists had resigned from ISRO in recent months. This wave of departures—dubbed a “talent exodus” by some media outlets—included key figures involved in flagship missions like Chandrayaan-3 and the Gaganyaan human spaceflight program. The exodus was significant enough to prompt the Department of Space to issue an emergency directive, withdrawing the authority of center directors to approve resignations of scientists working on critical national missions. All A-grade scientists involved in strategic programs would now require direct approval from the Department of Space itself.

India’s premier scientific institution was bleeding talent, and the very private sector that was bleeding it dry was, in many ways, a creation of ISRO’s own making. Was this a crisis of human capital, or the painful but necessary birth pangs of a mature space ecosystem?

Understanding the Exodus: The Logic Behind the Talent Migration

To comprehend this phenomenon, we must first understand the unique position ISRO has occupied in India’s scientific landscape—and the challenges it now faces in an increasingly competitive global environment.

The Compensation Gap

ISRO has long been celebrated for its remarkable achievements on a shoestring budget. The Mars Orbiter Mission (Mangalyaan), for instance, cost less than the Hollywood film “Gravity” to produce. But this frugality comes at a cost—literally—when it comes to attracting and retaining talent in an era of booming private space enterprise.

According to figures shared by former ISRO Chairman S. Somanath, entry-level engineers at ISRO receive a monthly salary of approximately ₹56,100 (roughly $670 or £530). This follows the rigid structure of the Seventh Pay Commission, which governs all government employees in India. In stark contrast, private multinational corporations and even domestic tech giants can easily offer five to ten times that amount during campus recruitment drives at premier institutions like the Indian Institutes of Technology (IITs).

Somanath once recounted a heartbreaking anecdote: during a campus recruitment presentation at an IIT, approximately 60% of the students walked out of the hall when they heard the starting salary ISRO could offer. For bright young engineers burdened with education loans and aspirations of financial independence, this gap is not merely inconvenient—it is insurmountable.

Beyond Money: Career Flexibility and Professional Growth

However, compensation is only part of the story. As one former ISRO intern who declined a full-time offer to join Texas Instruments explained, the decision was not purely about money. Equally important was the lack of professional flexibility within ISRO’s bureaucratic structure.

In a government organization like ISRO, employee mobility is constrained by complex administrative procedures. Transfers between centers, changes in project assignments, and shifts in research focus all require navigating layers of red tape. In contrast, private companies offer faster career progression, exposure to cutting-edge technologies, and flatter hierarchies where young engineers can make meaningful contributions early in their careers.

The allure of innovation cannot be overstated. In the private sector, especially in the high-stakes world of commercial space, there is greater tolerance for experimentation and failure—essential ingredients for technological breakthroughs. For engineers who thrive on intellectual curiosity and rapid iteration, the structured environment of a government agency can feel suffocating.

The Loss of Institutional Knowledge

The exodus of 100 scientists represents a far more significant challenge than the departure of junior engineers. The vast majority of those resigning are A-grade senior scientists—seasoned professionals who have spent decades working on India’s most complex space missions. Their ranks included Victor Joseph, the project director for the LVM3 heavy-lift rocket (affectionately nicknamed “Bahubali” in India), and Aditya Rallapalli, a scientist who played a pivotal role in Chandrayaan-3’s historic lunar landing, performing over 100,000 simulations and generating 25 terabytes of validation data to ensure the mission’s success.

These individuals carry what experts call “institutional knowledge”—the tacit understanding, accumulated expertise, and intuitive decision-making abilities that are developed through years of hands-on experience. This knowledge cannot be transferred through documentation or brief handover periods. It is embedded in the minds of the people who have navigated the countless failures and successes of India’s space program.

The timing of this exodus could not be worse. With the Gaganyaan human spaceflight mission in its critical phase and India’s planned space station still on the drawing board, every experienced scientist who walks out the door represents a potential delay, a gap in the decision-making chain, or—in the worst case—a compromised ability to meet national space objectives.

From Zero to Orbit: Skyroot and the “Surging Effect”

If ISRO’s talent exodus represents the “loss” in this equation, Skyroot Aerospace’s success represents the “gain”—the concrete validation of India’s decision to liberalize its space sector.

The “Sons of ISRO” Story

The story of Skyroot itself is a compelling illustration of the ecosystem’s transformation. Its two founders, Pawan Kumar Chandana and Naga Bharath Daka, were once ISRO engineers. In 2020, when the Indian government took the historic decision to open the space sector to private participation, they made a bold choice: they quit their secure government jobs to start a private venture in a sector where no private company had ever successfully built a rocket.

Within just a few years, Skyroot progressed from its suborbital Vikram-S rocket to the orbital-class Vikram-1. The successful “Aagaman” (Sanskrit for “arrival”) mission on July 18, 2026, was the culmination of years of relentless effort, innovative engineering, and unwavering belief in a vision. It proved that an Indian private company—staffed primarily by former ISRO employees—could independently handle the entire lifecycle of rocket development, from design and manufacturing to launch operations.

Joining an Elite Global Club

With this achievement, India joined the United States and China as the only nations with private companies capable of delivering payloads to orbit. This is not merely a matter of prestige. It signals India’s readiness to compete in the rapidly growing global commercial space market, which Morgan Stanley projects could exceed $1 trillion in annual revenue by 2040.

For India, which has historically relied on ISRO to provide launch services, having a domestic private launch capability means greater capacity, faster turnaround times, and more competitive pricing for international customers. It also reduces India’s dependence on foreign launch providers—an increasingly important consideration in an era of geopolitical uncertainty.

A Burgeoning Ecosystem

Skyroot’s success has catalyzed a wider transformation of India’s space ecosystem. Since the 2020 reforms, the Indian National Space Promotion and Authorization Centre (IN-SPACe) has acted as a single-window regulatory agency, facilitating public-private partnerships and technology transfers.

IN-SPACe has actively sought to transfer ISRO’s mature technologies to the private sector. For instance, it has issued requests for proposals to transfer the LVM3 rocket—ISRO’s heaviest and most reliable launch vehicle—to private industry, potentially allowing Indian companies to increase launch frequency and capture a larger share of the global market.

Beyond launch services, the ecosystem now includes startups specializing in satellite manufacturing, ground station services, laser communications, and downstream data applications. Companies like Astrogate Labs (focusing on optical communication), Pixxel (hyperspectral imaging), and Dhruva Space (satellite platforms) are attracting venture capital and global partnerships.

As Anupam Anand, Joint Secretary at IN-SPACe, has outlined, India’s goal is to build an end-to-end space ecosystem encompassing “Satellite-as-a-Service,” seed funding, venture capital support, and comprehensive technology transfer mechanisms. The ambition is to expand India’s current $8.4 billion space economy to $44 billion by 2047—a fivefold increase in just two decades.

The Dialectics of “Loss” and “Gain”

For Indian society, the way we define this talent migration will profoundly shape our response to it. Is it a crisis requiring defensive measures, or an indicator of success demanding celebration?

From “Government Job” Worship to Entrepreneurial Role Models

Prominent Indian commentator Dhiraj Nayyar has argued that the resignation of 100 scientists from ISRO is actually a positive development. It signals that the government’s decision to liberalize the space sector has succeeded in creating genuine private-sector demand for top-tier talent.

In a normal, functioning economy, the movement of skilled professionals from the public to the private sector indicates that the private sector is creating real value and generating employment opportunities. For decades, Indian society—particularly in middle-class families—has placed an almost sacred value on “government jobs.” The stability, pension, and social prestige associated with public service have historically been seen as superior to the risks of private employment.

This cultural preference, while understandable, has often stifled innovation and entrepreneurship. The success stories of Chandana and Daka—who left the security of ISRO to build a company from scratch—are beginning to change that narrative. They demonstrate that in the high-stakes, high-reward world of space technology, entrepreneurship is not only viable but can create far greater economic value than a lifetime of government service.

As Nayyar puts it, just as angel investors provide capital to startups, these pioneering scientists serve as “angel employees”—specialists who bring irreplaceable expertise to build companies that will shape India’s technological future. Their example may inspire countless others to consider entrepreneurship as a legitimate and honorable career path.

ISRO’s Role: From Executor to Mentor

The challenge for ISRO is not simply to “plug the leaks” through administrative restrictions. It must fundamentally reconsider its role in India’s space ecosystem. Rather than remaining the sole executor of all space missions, ISRO should transition into the role of a strategic mentor and provider of foundational research.

This transformation is already underway. Through technology transfer agreements, shared launch infrastructure, and joint research initiatives, ISRO can nurture the very private sector that is competing for its talent. Its ultimate value should be measured not by the number of scientists on its payroll, but by the number of thriving companies it has helped create and the scale of the ecosystem it has fostered.

As one industry observer noted, India’s next “unicorn” startup might not be in e-commerce or food delivery—it could well be a company that delivers payloads to orbit, enabled by technology and talent nurtured in ISRO’s laboratories.

Managing the Tension Between “National Mission” and “Market Logic”

Of course, a purely ideological approach is unrealistic. The Gaganyaan human spaceflight mission and India’s planned space station cannot be built by startups overnight. These projects require the deep expertise, vast infrastructure, and institutional memory that only ISRO can provide. The government’s immediate decision to restrict the resignation of A-grade scientists working on strategic missions is a necessary, if reactive, measure to protect national interests.

However, in the long term, the solution lies in reform. Dhiraj Nayyar has advocated for giving ISRO and similar public agencies greater autonomy in compensation matters. While fixed salaries may remain tied to the civil service hierarchy, these organizations should have the flexibility to offer project-specific bonuses, performance-linked incentives, and other creative compensation structures.

Even in the global private sector, specialized technical talent—particularly in R&D and cutting-edge fields—is often compensated more generously than traditional managers or even C-suite executives. India should apply similar logic to its premier scientific institutions. A scientist working on India’s first human spaceflight mission should be compensated in a manner that reflects the enormous responsibility and global prestige of the undertaking.

At the same time, ISRO and other public sector entities should not expect special treatment in policy terms. If they are to compete on a level playing field with private companies, they should operate with commercial independence—even as the government retains ownership and strategic oversight.

A Historical Context: India’s Space Journey

To fully appreciate the significance of the current moment, it is worth situating it within India’s broader space history.

The Nehru-Bhabha Era

India’s space program began in the early 1960s, during the tenure of Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, under the visionary leadership of Dr. Vikram Sarabhai. The Indian National Committee for Space Research (INCOSPAR) was established in 1962, which later evolved into ISRO in 1969.

Sarabhai’s vision was profoundly pragmatic. In a country struggling with poverty and illiteracy, he argued that space technology was not a luxury but a necessity. Satellite-based communications could reach remote villages; remote sensing could improve agricultural planning and disaster management; and meteorological satellites could save lives. These applications provided the moral and practical justification for what might otherwise have seemed an extravagance.

The Rocket Man Era

The 1970s and 1980s saw India develop its indigenous launch capabilities under the leadership of Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam, who directed the SLV-3 (Satellite Launch Vehicle-3) program. The successful launch of Rohini satellite in 1980 made India the sixth nation to achieve orbital launch capability.

This period also witnessed the development of the Polar Satellite Launch Vehicle (PSLV), which would become ISRO’s workhorse, carrying over 300 foreign satellites by 2023. The Geosynchronous Satellite Launch Vehicle (GSLV) followed, enabling India to launch heavier communication satellites.

The Age of Planetary Exploration

The 21st century brought India’s most ambitious missions. Chandrayaan-1 (2008) discovered water molecules on the lunar surface. Mangalyaan (2013) made India the first Asian nation to reach Martian orbit and the first nation globally to do so on its maiden attempt. Chandrayaan-2 (2019), while not achieving a soft landing, provided valuable data about the lunar south pole. Chandrayaan-3 (2023) completed the mission, successfully landing near the lunar south pole—a feat no other nation had achieved.

Each of these missions built on the accumulated institutional knowledge of decades. The scientists who led them—K. Sivan, S. Somanath, M. Annadurai, and countless others—represented the best of India’s scientific talent. Their achievements inspired millions, from the remote villages where school children watched rocket launches on black-and-white televisions to the elite engineering colleges where a new generation dreamed of following in their footsteps.

The 2020 Reforms

The watershed moment came in 2020, when Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s government announced the opening of the space sector to private participation. The establishment of IN-SPACe and the promotion of public-private partnerships represented a recognition that ISRO alone could not meet the growing demands of the global commercial space market.

By 2026, the fruits of these reforms had become evident. Skyroot’s success, alongside other startups like Agnikul Cosmos (which launched India’s first privately built 3D-printed rocket engine in 2024), demonstrated that India’s private sector could compete on the world stage.

Global Comparisons: Lessons from Other Nations

India’s current situation mirrors, in some respects, the experiences of other nations that have navigated the transition from state-dominated to market-driven space sectors.

The United States: The SpaceX Phenomenon

The United States provides the most obvious parallel. For decades, NASA was the undisputed leader of American space exploration. However, the decision to commercialize launch services through programs like Commercial Orbital Transportation Services (COTS) and Commercial Crew Program (CCP) transformed the sector.

SpaceX, founded by Elon Musk in 2002, was initially met with skepticism from the aerospace establishment. But its success with the Falcon 9 rocket and Dragon capsule has not only made human spaceflight commercially viable but has also dramatically reduced launch costs through reusability.

A crucial difference, however, is that NASA’s compensation structures have historically been far more competitive than ISRO’s, and the American private sector offers a much wider range of opportunities across the entire space value chain. Moreover, the United States has a deep venture capital ecosystem that can fund high-risk, long-gestation space projects—something India is still developing.

China: The State-Protected Champion

China presents a different model. Its private space sector is carefully managed and remains heavily dependent on state support. Companies like iSpace, Galactic Energy, and LandSpace have achieved notable successes, but their activities are closely monitored and directed by the state. China’s space sector remains, in essence, an extension of its military-industrial complex, with limited real independence.

This model has allowed China to rapidly expand its space capabilities, but it has also made the private sector a “tamed animal” rather than a true driver of innovation. China is the only other country besides India with a private orbital launch capability, but whether that private sector can truly compete internationally remains an open question.

Europe: A Slow Awakening

Europe has struggled to cultivate a vibrant private space sector, despite having world-class scientific institutions like the European Space Agency (ESA). European startups like ArianeGroup, Rocket Factory Augsburg, and Isar Aerospace have made progress, but they are challenged by regulatory fragmentation, lower venture capital availability, and a smaller domestic market compared to the United States.

India’s advantage over Europe lies in its low-cost manufacturing base, a large pool of highly trained engineers, and a rapidly growing domestic demand for satellite services. However, Europe’s sophisticated regulatory environment and established legal frameworks for commercial space activities are areas where India needs to catch up.

Lessons for India

The global experience suggests several lessons for India:

  1. Talent Will Follow Opportunity: In every successful space economy, the best talent gravitates toward the most dynamic organizations. India must ensure that both ISRO and private companies can offer compelling career paths.

  2. Regulation Must Be Flexible: Heavy-handed regulation can stifle innovation, while excessive permissiveness can lead to safety risks. India’s IN-SPACe model is a promising middle path.

  3. Public Investment in R&D Remains Critical: Even in the most privatized space economies, public funding for basic research remains essential. ISRO’s role as a provider of foundational knowledge cannot be fully replaced by the private sector.

  4. International Partnerships Matter: No nation can build a space sector entirely in isolation. India has a unique advantage as a non-aligned nation that can partner with both Western and non-Western partners.

Economic Implications: The Business of Space

The transformation of India’s space sector is not merely a matter of scientific pride—it has profound economic implications.

The Growing Commercial Market

The global space economy is growing at an unprecedented rate. According to a 2026 report by the Space Foundation, the global space industry generated $546 billion in revenue in 2025, with projections reaching $1 trillion by 2040. The growth is driven by:

  • Commercial Launch Services: The development of smaller, cheaper rockets and rideshare missions has expanded access to space for universities, startups, and developing nations.

  • Satellite Communications: The deployment of low Earth orbit (LEO) constellations for broadband internet, such as Starlink and OneWeb, is creating massive demand for launch services and satellite manufacturing.

  • Earth Observation: High-resolution imagery and data analytics are revolutionizing agriculture, forestry, urban planning, and disaster response.

  • In-Space Manufacturing: As launch costs continue to decline, the economic viability of manufacturing in microgravity—pharmaceuticals, semiconductors, optical fibers—is becoming feasible.

India’s domestic space market, valued at $8.4 billion in 2025, is growing at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of approximately 14%, significantly faster than the global average. However, to reach the ambitious target of $44 billion by 2047, the sector requires substantial private investment, sustained policy support, and—most critically—access to the best talent.

Job Creation and Economic Multipliers

One of the most compelling arguments for private-sector development is job creation. ISRO, for all its achievements, can only employ a limited number of scientists and engineers—approximately 16,000 as of 2026. By contrast, the private space ecosystem, including startups, suppliers, and downstream service providers, has the potential to employ hundreds of thousands of people directly and indirectly.

The multiplier effect is significant. For every direct job in the space industry, estimates suggest four to five jobs are created in the broader economy—in manufacturing, software development, logistics, and professional services. The economic ripple effects extend to industries as diverse as telecommunications, agriculture, finance, and insurance, all of which benefit from satellite-derived data and services.

The Challenge of Value Capture

However, India faces a critical challenge: capturing value rather than merely creating it. Too often, developing nations provide raw talent, cheap manufacturing, and market access, only to see profits flow to foreign corporations. India must ensure that its private space sector is capable of retaining intellectual property, building brands, and competing globally on innovation, not just cost.

This requires sustained investment in R&D, robust intellectual property protection, and a regulatory environment that encourages innovation while protecting national interests.

Social and Cultural Dimensions

Beyond economics and technology, the transformation of India’s space sector carries profound social and cultural implications.

The Changing Status of Government Employment

For generations, government employment in India has been associated with stability, respect, and social security. The “government job” was often the ultimate goal for a middle-class family—a ticket to a lifetime of security, pensions, and social status.

This cultural preference has served India well in some respects. It has ensured that public institutions like ISRO have been able to attract and retain top talent for decades. However, it has also created a society that undervalues entrepreneurship and innovation.

The success of Skyroot and other private space startups is beginning to shift this cultural mindset. When young engineers see their peers leaving ISRO to found million-dollar companies, the stigma associated with private-sector employment begins to dissipate. The message is clear: entrepreneurship is not only acceptable but can be more socially impactful than a government career.

Role Models for a New Generation

Chandana and Daka, the founders of Skyroot, have already become icons for aspiring entrepreneurs. Their journey—from ISRO scientists to startup founders—has been chronicled in national media, and they are frequently invited to speak at engineering colleges and industry events.

Similarly, the 100-odd scientists who have resigned in recent weeks may not all become founders, but they will become the “angel employees”—the technical backbone of companies that could become tomorrow’s industry leaders. Their willingness to take risks, to leave secure employment for uncertain ventures, sends a powerful message to the next generation.

The Global Indian Diaspora

The success of India’s private space sector also has implications for the global Indian diaspora. For decades, the brightest Indian engineers have emigrated to the United States, Europe, or the Middle East in search of better opportunities. If India can offer competitive salaries, exciting work, and the chance to build world-class companies at home, the “brain drain” could reverse course.

This is not merely a matter of national pride—it is a strategic imperative. In the global competition for talent, India cannot afford to lose its best and brightest to foreign shores.

Challenges and Risks

For all its promise, the transformation of India’s space sector carries significant risks and challenges.

Brain Drain vs. Knowledge Transfer

The most immediate challenge is the potential for irreversible brain drain. While the movement of talent to the private sector can create a virtuous cycle of innovation and economic growth, it also carries the risk of hollowing out ISRO’s ability to deliver on national missions.

The Gaganyaan human spaceflight mission is the most obvious example. Delays or compromises in this mission—which has already faced multiple postponements—would be a significant setback for India’s space ambitions. Ensuring that ISRO retains sufficient expertise to complete its flagship missions is a national priority.

The solution lies not in restricting mobility—which is both impractical and counterproductive—but in making public-sector careers more attractive through reforms in compensation, flexibility, and professional development.

Regulatory and Safety Concerns

The rapid growth of private space activity also raises significant regulatory and safety concerns. As launch frequency increases, the risk of accidents—and the potential impact on populated areas, air traffic, and other space assets—grows exponentially.

India’s regulatory framework for commercial space activities is still evolving. Ensuring that private companies adhere to rigorous safety standards, environmental guidelines, and international treaties is essential for the sector’s long-term credibility.

The 2023 Russian satellite debris incident, which temporarily disrupted the International Space Station and caused concern for other low Earth orbit assets, underscored the importance of responsible space operations. India must actively participate in global efforts to establish norms for space sustainability and debris mitigation.

National Security Implications

Space technology has inherent dual-use applications—the same technologies that enable satellite communication and earth observation can also support military reconnaissance, intelligence gathering, and missile guidance.

India’s liberalization of the space sector must be balanced with appropriate safeguards to prevent technology leakage to hostile nations. The government must carefully vet international partnerships, enforce strict technology export controls, and ensure that sensitive research and development remains within protected channels.

At the same time, India’s national security also depends on its ability to maintain independent space capabilities. Over-reliance on foreign launch providers, satellite components, or data sources could create vulnerabilities in times of conflict. ISRO’s continued strength in launch vehicles, satellite design, and mission control remains essential for India’s sovereign space capabilities.

Equity and Access

Finally, India must ensure that the benefits of its growing space sector are broadly distributed across society. The digital divide—the gap between those with access to space-enabled technologies and those without—remains a significant challenge.

While India’s space program has historically focused on applications that benefit the broader population—such as telemedicine, education, and disaster management—the commercial space sector’s primary focus is profitability. Government policies must ensure that the dividends of space commercialization reach all sections of society, including those in remote and underserved areas.

The provision of broadband internet through low Earth orbit constellations, for example, could be a transformative force for rural India, connecting millions of people to global markets, educational resources, and healthcare services. But this requires policy frameworks that encourage universal access, not just profit maximization.

The Future: A Roadmap for India’s Space Sector

As India navigates the challenges and opportunities of its New Space era, several strategic priorities emerge.

1. Compensation Reform for Public Institutions

The most immediate priority is to address the compensation gap that is driving talent away from ISRO. While the government cannot fully match private-sector salaries—given the fundamental differences between public service and for-profit employment—it can adopt creative solutions.

As Dhiraj Nayyar suggests, ISRO should be granted greater autonomy in compensation matters, even if fixed salaries remain tied to the civil service hierarchy. Project-specific bonuses, performance-linked incentives, and additional allowances could lift total compensation for senior scientists well above civil service levels.

The global private sector already demonstrates that specialized technical talent—particularly in R&D—is often compensated more generously than traditional managers. ISRO should adopt a similar approach, valuing technical expertise and project impact over seniority and administrative rank.

2. Strengthening ISRO’s Role as a Mentor

ISRO’s transformation from a monolithic executor to a strategic mentor and facilitator is essential. The agency should focus on fundamental research, infrastructure development, and strategic missions—areas where the private sector cannot yet compete—while licensing technologies to private partners for commercialization.

The technology transfer of the LVM3 rocket to private industry represents a promising model. If executed effectively, it could increase launch frequency, reduce costs, and create a pipeline of revenue for ISRO through licensing fees and royalties.

Similarly, ISRO should actively mentor and collaborate with private startups, providing access to testing facilities, launch infrastructure, and subject matter expertise. A vibrant partnership between ISRO and the private sector—rather than a zero-sum competition—would benefit all stakeholders.

3. Creating a Vibrant Venture Capital Ecosystem

India’s private space sector requires substantial capital to scale. While the government can provide seed funding, grants, and incentives, long-term growth depends on private investment.

The venture capital ecosystem in India is still maturing, with space sector investments lagging behind the United States, Europe, and even China. To attract institutional investors, India must develop clearer regulatory frameworks, establish investment protection mechanisms, and demonstrate a track record of successful commercial ventures.

IN-SPACe’s efforts to facilitate public-private partnerships, combined with targeted government incentives—such as tax breaks, subsidized infrastructure access, and procurement commitments—can help bridge the gap.

4. Expanding International Partnerships

India’s non-aligned position offers a unique opportunity to serve as a bridge between Western and non-Western space actors. The country should actively pursue partnerships with NASA, the European Space Agency, JAXA, and other established spacefaring nations, as well as with emerging space powers in the Global South.

These partnerships should encompass not only scientific collaboration but also joint commercial ventures, technology sharing (subject to appropriate safeguards), and capacity-building programs for developing nations.

India’s successful history of launching foreign satellites (over 300 by 2023) and its cooperative agreements with countries like the United States, France, and Russia provide a foundation for deeper engagement. The next step is to move beyond transactional launch services to genuine strategic partnerships in exploration, research, and commercial development.

5. Strengthening Space Law and Governance

India’s space sector requires a comprehensive legal framework to govern private activity, liability, insurance, and dispute resolution. The current regulatory landscape, while improving with the establishment of IN-SPACe, remains fragmented and insufficient for a mature commercial sector.

The government should consider enacting a Space Activities Act that provides a unified legal framework for all space-related activities, covering:

  • Licensing of launch operations, satellite manufacturing, and ground stations

  • Liability for damage to property or persons caused by space activities

  • Insurance requirements for private operators

  • Spectrum and orbital slot allocation mechanisms

  • Environmental and sustainability obligations

  • International obligations under treaties like the Outer Space Treaty of 1967

Clear, predictable, and transparent regulations will provide the private sector with the confidence to invest and expand.

6. Fostering a Culture of Innovation

Finally, India’s long-term success in the space sector depends on a culture that values innovation, risk-taking, and entrepreneurship. This cultural transformation must begin in India’s educational institutions, from primary schools to elite engineering colleges.

Curricula should emphasize hands-on projects, design thinking, and interdisciplinary learning. Students should be exposed to real-world space problems—from satellite design to mission planning to data analytics—and encouraged to think like entrepreneurs, not just employees.

The Indian government should also consider establishing a “space schools” program—a network of specialized institutions focused on space technology and entrepreneurship—modeled after existing initiatives like the National Institute of Design.

Conclusion: A New Chapter

The events of July 2026 represent a profound moment in India’s space history. Skyroot’s successful Vikram-1 launch, alongside the exodus of 100 scientists from ISRO, are not coincidental—they are two sides of the same coin.

The “loss” is real and should not be dismissed lightly. ISRO is losing some of its brightest minds at a critical juncture. The Gaganyaan mission, India’s first human spaceflight, is at risk of delays or quality compromises. The institutional memory that has been painstakingly built over six decades is dispersing into a multitude of private ventures.

But the “gain” is equally undeniable. India now has a thriving private space sector, with the potential to create thousands of jobs, generate billions in revenue, and position India as a leader in the global commercial space economy. The entrepreneurship and innovation that were once stifled by state monopoly are being unleashed.

The true measure of India’s success will lie in how it navigates this transition. Can it provide sufficient incentives for talent to remain in public service while encouraging private-sector growth? Can it protect national security interests without stifling innovation? Can it ensure that the benefits of space technology reach the poorest sections of society, not just the wealthiest?

The answers to these questions will define India’s trajectory in the decades ahead. As society and government reflect on the developments in the space sector, they must remember the fundamental insight: in the New Space era, the goal is not to protect a single institution but to build a thriving ecosystem. When talent moves freely, when ideas flow freely, and when capital follows innovation, the nation as a whole benefits.

Skyroot’s success is a testament to what Indian talent can achieve when given the opportunity. The 100 scientists who have left ISRO may go on to build companies as successful as Skyroot, or they may become the “angel employees” who help build the next generation of space enterprises. Whatever their individual paths, their collective impact on India’s space sector will likely be far greater than if they had remained in government service.

The challenge for India is to ensure that this process continues—that the pipeline of talent from universities to ISRO to the private sector remains vibrant and sustainable. The nation cannot afford to let ISRO wither, nor can it afford to stifle private-sector growth. It needs both: a strong public institution to push the frontiers of exploration and a dynamic private sector to commercialize and scale the fruits of that exploration.

This is India’s moment. The world is watching. And the decisions made in the coming years will determine whether India remains a space follower or becomes a space leader.

Questions and Answers on India’s Space Talent Migration and Industrial Transformation

Q1: Why are ISRO scientists, especially senior experts, resigning in large numbers to join private companies?

The exodus of scientists from ISRO to the private sector is driven by multiple interconnected factors, going far beyond simple salary comparisons.

Primary Drivers:

  1. The Compensation Gap: This is the most immediate and tangible factor. ISRO’s salary structure is tied to the Indian government’s civil service pay scales, with entry-level engineers receiving approximately ₹56,100 ($670) per month. In contrast, private companies and multinational corporations can offer five to ten times that amount to fresh engineering graduates from institutions like the Indian Institutes of Technology. For senior scientists with decades of experience, the difference can be even more pronounced.

  2. Career Growth and Professional Flexibility: In ISRO’s bureaucratic structure, career progression is slow and constrained by administrative procedures. Scientists have limited ability to switch between projects, relocate to different centers, or pursue emerging research areas of personal interest. The private sector offers faster promotion cycles, exposure to cutting-edge technologies, flatter hierarchies, and the freedom to work on multiple projects simultaneously.

  3. Entrepreneurial Opportunities: Since the 2020 reforms opened India’s space sector to private participation, a wave of startups has emerged. Many senior scientists see the opportunity to build their own companies—or join existing startups as “angel employees”—as a chance to create lasting impact and build wealth that would be impossible within the government system. The success stories of Skyroot’s founders, both former ISRO engineers, have served as powerful inspiration.

  4. Global Recognition and Professional Networks: Private companies offer opportunities to collaborate with international partners, attend global conferences, and build professional networks that extend far beyond India’s borders. For ambitious scientists, these opportunities are invaluable for career advancement.

  5. Work-Life Balance and Job Satisfaction: While this varies, some scientists find the private sector offers better work-life balance or more autonomy in project selection. Others are drawn to the excitement of building something new rather than continuing with established programs.

The ISRO Counterargument: Despite these factors, ISRO offers unique advantages that cannot be replicated in the private sector. The agency provides lifetime job security, pension benefits, housing allowances, and significant social prestige. More importantly, it offers the opportunity to work on India’s most ambitious national missions—human spaceflight, interplanetary exploration, and space station development—projects that require national-level resources and coordination that no private company can match.

Q2: What does Skyroot Aerospace’s Vikram-1 success mean for India?

Skyroot Aerospace’s successful Vikram-1 launch represents a watershed moment for India’s space sector, with significance extending far beyond the company itself.

1. Validation of Government Policy: The most immediate implication is the vindication of India’s 2020 decision to open the space sector to private participation. The reforms were initially met with skepticism from those who feared they would undermine ISRO’s primacy or lead to foreign domination. Skyroot’s achievement demonstrates that Indian private companies, staffed primarily by Indian talent, can compete on the world stage.

2. Global Standing: India became only the third country—after the United States and China—with a private company capable of orbital-class rocket launches. This places India in an elite club and signals its readiness to compete in the rapidly growing global commercial space market, which could exceed $1 trillion annually by 2040.

3. Economic Potential: Skyroot’s success creates a template for other startups to follow, attracting investment and talent to the sector. The development of a domestic private launch capability reduces India’s dependence on foreign providers and creates opportunities for job creation, export earnings, and technology development.

4. Ecosystem Development: Skyroot’s success has accelerated the development of India’s broader space ecosystem. IN-SPACe has actively sought to transfer ISRO technologies like the LVM3 rocket to private industry. New startups in satellite manufacturing, ground services, and data applications are emerging, creating a virtuous cycle of innovation and competition.

5. Government Revenue Generation: Private launches can generate revenue for ISRO through infrastructure usage fees and licensing arrangements. As the private sector grows, it could potentially contribute significant revenue to the government.

6. Inspiration for Entrepreneurs: The Skyroot story—two young ISRO engineers quitting secure government jobs to build a company from scratch—has inspired a new generation of entrepreneurs. It demonstrates that space entrepreneurship is feasible in India and that government employment need not be the only path for talented scientists.

Challenges Remain: Despite this success, India’s private space sector remains nascent compared to the United States or China. Significant challenges remain in scaling operations, competing on cost and reliability with established players, and navigating the complex regulatory landscape.

Q3: What measures has the Indian government taken to address ISRO’s talent exodus?

The Indian government has responded to the talent exodus with a combination of short-term emergency measures, strategic policy responses, and long-term reform initiatives.

Immediate Measures:

  1. Restriction on Resignations: In July 2026, the Department of Space issued a directive withdrawing the authority of center directors to approve resignations of A-grade scientists involved in strategic national missions like Gaganyaan. All such requests must now be approved directly by the Department of Space. This is a stopgap measure designed to protect critical projects during their most sensitive phases.

  2. Retention Bonuses: ISRO has reportedly offered retention bonuses and project-specific incentives to key personnel, attempting to match some of the financial appeal of private-sector offers.

  3. Enhanced Career Pathways: The government has accelerated promotion cycles and created new senior scientist positions to provide clearer career progression for those who choose to remain in public service.

Strategic Policy Responses:

  1. Compensation Reform: There is growing recognition within the government and policy circles that ISRO’s compensation structure must be reformed. Proposals include granting ISRO greater autonomy in salary determination, creating project-specific performance bonuses, and allowing separate compensation structures for scientists versus administrative staff.

  2. IN-SPACe and Public-Private Partnership: The government, through IN-SPACe, has actively facilitated the transfer of ISRO technologies to private industry, while simultaneously ensuring that ISRO retains its position as the primary authority on strategic space matters.

  3. Expanded Hiring: ISRO has accelerated recruitment drives to replenish its ranks, particularly targeting fresh graduates from India’s premier engineering institutions, offering faster promotion tracks and more attractive professional development opportunities.

Long-Term Reform Initiatives:

  1. Autonomy for Public Sector Undertakings: Policymakers like Dhiraj Nayyar have advocated for giving ISRO and similar agencies greater autonomy in compensation, procurement, and operational matters. This would allow them to compete more effectively with private companies without departing from their public-service mission.

  2. Redefining ISRO’s Role: The government is actively rethinking ISRO’s role from sole executor to strategic mentor and facilitator. This includes using ISRO as a training ground for private-sector talent, licensing technologies to private companies, and focusing ISRO on fundamental research and strategic missions rather than routine commercial launches.

  3. Cultural Shift: The government has promoted narratives emphasizing entrepreneurship and private-sector employment as equally valid career paths, attempting to shift India’s deeply ingrained cultural preference for government jobs.

Effectiveness and Limitations: These measures have had mixed results. The resignation restriction has slowed the exodus but has not reversed it. Compensation reform remains slow and contested. However, the long-term trend appears positive: India’s space ecosystem is healthier and more vibrant than at any point in its history, even as ISRO struggles with talent retention.

Q4: What is “institutional knowledge,” and why is its loss a serious challenge for ISRO?

“Institutional knowledge” refers to the tacit, cumulative expertise that individuals and organizations develop through years of experience, practice, and learning from failures. It encompasses not just formal procedures but the intuitive understanding of how complex systems work, the ability to anticipate problems, and the judgment to make decisions in high-stakes situations.

Characteristics of Institutional Knowledge in ISRO:

  1. Tacit and Non-Codified: Much of institutional knowledge is not written down in manuals or standard operating procedures. It exists in the minds of experienced professionals who have internalized the nuances of their craft.

  2. Accumulated Through Experience: The knowledge is built over decades of involvement in projects, often involving trial and error, failed experiments, and iterative improvement.

  3. Context-Specific: The knowledge is embedded in the specific culture, systems, and history of the organization. What works at ISRO may not work in a different environment, and vice versa.

  4. Team-Dependent: Institutional knowledge is often distributed across teams, with different individuals holding different pieces of the puzzle. Collaboration is essential to access the full knowledge base.

Examples from ISRO:

  • Victor Joseph, the project director for the LVM3 “Bahubali” rocket, spent decades understanding the complexities of India’s heavy-lift launch vehicle. His knowledge of the rocket’s subsystems, failure modes, and operational procedures cannot be replicated by a new hire.

  • Aditya Rallapalli, who conducted over 100,000 simulations for Chandrayaan-3’s landing sequence, accumulated knowledge about lunar surface conditions, software validation, and risk assessment that is essential for future lunar missions.

  • The teams that developed the PSLV’s “workhorse” reliability or the GSLV’s cryogenic engine know the intimate details of these complex systems—knowledge that would take years to rebuild if lost.

Why the Loss Is a Serious Challenge:

  1. Mission Delays and Compromises: Losing key personnel at critical moments can delay projects, introduce errors, or compromise mission objectives. Gaganyaan, India’s first human spaceflight, is particularly vulnerable to delays as experienced personnel depart.

  2. Inability to Transfer Knowledge: New hires cannot easily acquire institutional knowledge through training programs or documentation. It must be learned through mentorship, observation, and hands-on experience—a process that takes years.

  3. Weakened Innovation: Innovation builds on past successes and failures. Losing the institutional memory of what worked and what didn’t can lead to repeated mistakes and wasted effort.

  4. Competitive Disadvantage: India’s space capabilities are built on decades of accumulated knowledge. If that knowledge leaves ISRO and moves to private companies or foreign nations, India risks losing its competitive edge.

The Counterargument: While the loss of institutional knowledge is a serious challenge, it is not an unmitigated disaster. Some of the departing scientists will continue to contribute to India’s space sector in private companies, creating a knowledge pipeline that can benefit the nation as a whole. Moreover, the exodus may force ISRO to modernize its knowledge management practices, document more effectively, and accelerate the training of younger scientists.

Q5: How should we evaluate the argument that “ISRO’s loss is India’s gain”?

The statement “ISRO’s loss is India’s gain” captures a profound strategic insight, but it requires careful qualification and nuance. It is not an argument that India should lose talent to the private sector, but rather an observation that the transformation of India’s space sector—and the associated talent migration—should be evaluated from a national, system-level perspective rather than an institutional one.

Arguments Supporting the Perspective:

  1. Ecosystem Development: India’s space sector is evolving from a single monolithic agency to a vibrant ecosystem of public institutions, private companies, startups, and international partnerships. This diversification makes India more resilient, innovative, and competitive. Talent migration is the mechanism through which ecosystem development occurs.

  2. Economic Growth and Job Creation: While ISRO can only employ around 16,000 people, the private sector has the potential to create hundreds of thousands of jobs directly and indirectly. The economic multipliers—in manufacturing, software, services, and downstream applications—are substantial. India cannot afford to miss this economic opportunity.

  3. Entrepreneurial Culture: India has long suffered from a cultural preference for government jobs over entrepreneurship. The success stories of Skyroot’s founders—and the exodus of 100 scientists to private companies—signal a cultural shift that may ultimately be more valuable than retaining any individual talent.

  4. Technology Commercialization: Many of the technologies developed at ISRO have applications beyond space—in materials science, electronics, computing, and manufacturing. Transferring these technologies to the private sector accelerates their commercialization, generating revenue for ISRO and broader economic benefits for India.

  5. Global Competitiveness: India’s private space companies are now competing on the global stage, not just providing domestic services. This creates opportunities for export earnings, global partnerships, and enhanced national prestige.

Counterarguments and Caveats:

  1. National Security Concerns: Some space technologies have dual-use applications that are critical for national security. Ensuring that sensitive technologies do not fall into the wrong hands requires careful oversight.

  2. Mission Continuity: India cannot afford to delay or compromise its flagship missions—Gaganyaan, interplanetary exploration, and space station development. These missions require the deep institutional knowledge that ISRO holds. The exodus of key personnel poses a genuine risk.

  3. Protection of Public Investment: The Indian taxpayer has invested billions of rupees in ISRO’s infrastructure, training, and knowledge base. If that investment simply flows to private companies without corresponding benefits to the nation, it could represent a loss of public value.

  4. Equity and Access: Private companies naturally focus on profitable markets, not on providing services to underserved populations. Ensuring that space technologies benefit all sections of society requires public-sector involvement.

  5. Brain Drain Risk: If the exodus of talent from ISRO is not balanced by new recruitment and training, India could permanently degrade its institutional capacity. This would undermine its ability to undertake ambitious new missions.

A Balanced Assessment:

The statement “ISRO’s loss is India’s gain” is best understood as a strategic observation rather than a moral judgment. It suggests that India should evaluate the transformation of its space sector at the national level, not at the level of any single institution. The challenge for policymakers is to:

  1. Manage the Transition: Ensure that the migration of talent from ISRO to the private sector occurs in a controlled, managed manner that minimizes disruption to critical missions.

  2. Redefine ISRO’s Role: Position ISRO as a mentor and facilitator, not merely a competitor, in the new space ecosystem. This means leveraging ISRO’s strengths—fundamental research, strategic missions, and institutional knowledge—while ceding commercial operations to the private sector.

  3. Reform Compensation: Address the compensation gap that drives talent away from ISRO. This may require giving ISRO greater autonomy in salary determination and creating project-specific incentives.

  4. Ensure National Security: Implement robust safeguards to protect sensitive technologies and prevent technology leakage to hostile nations.

  5. Broaden Access: Ensure that the benefits of space commercialization reach all sections of society, not just the wealthy or the commercial sector.

Conclusion: The transformation of India’s space sector is an inevitable and largely positive development. The movement of talent from ISRO to the private sector is a sign of a maturing ecosystem, not a crisis—provided it is managed carefully and strategically. India’s long-term success will depend on its ability to navigate this transition with wisdom, balancing the imperatives of public service with the opportunities of commercial enterprise.

The Unbearable Lightness of Trade Deals: India’s Marathon Begins

The Triumvirate of Ambition

April 2026. July 2026. Two moments that will likely be remembered as milestones in India’s economic diplomacy. In April, India and New Zealand signed a landmark Free Trade Agreement (FTA), concluded in a record nine months of negotiations . In July, the India-UK Comprehensive Economic and Trade Agreement came into effect, nearly a year after it was signed . And hovering in the background—pending formal announcement at the India-EU summit—is what the international media has dubbed the “mother of all trade deals” with the European Union .

The numbers are audacious. The India-New Zealand FTA aims to double bilateral trade to $5 billion within five years . The India-UK deal targets $100 billion in bilateral trade by 2030 . The India-EU agreement projects bilateral trade of $200 billion by 2030, an increase of about 50% from $136 billion in 2024-25 . Together, these three agreements signal a decisive assertion of strategic economic confidence .

But here lies the critical caveat—one that trade economists and policy analysts have been urging policymakers to internalise. As articulated by the Director and a Visiting Professor at the Indian Council for Research on International Economic Relations (ICRIER), the signing of an FTA should be treated as only the beginning of a marathon. The hard yards of regulatory alignment, investment protection, and investment facilitation lie ahead if the trade expansion potential is to be fully realised.

This is the central insight that must guide India’s approach: FTAs are neither necessary nor sufficient for expanding trade and investment. They are better regarded as a vital link in a chain of reforms. Tariff cuts spark interest; eliminating duties on intermediate goods pulls investment into the value chain; regulatory alignment clears the path; investment protection builds the confidence to commit capital; and investment facilitation turns that commitment into factories, jobs, and exports .

The Tariff Foundation: Where It All Begins

Tariff reduction is certainly important. Lower duties make trade commercially viable, especially in sectors with thin margins and high tariff barriers. In India, tariff preferences should immediately boost exports in textiles, clothing, leather, fisheries, and agricultural products—labour-intensive industries where competitiveness hinges on relative tariff margins.

The India-New Zealand FTA: Complete Access for Indian Exports

Under the India-New Zealand FTA, 100% of Indian exports—across 8,284 tariff lines—will receive duty-free access to New Zealand . This represents a transformative opportunity for Indian pharmaceuticals, engineering goods, textiles, and agricultural products. For the first time, Indian exporters can compete on a level playing field with suppliers from other nations that already enjoy preferential access to the New Zealand market .

New Zealand, in turn, will provide 57% of its exports to India tariff-free from day one, with further tariff reductions phased in over time . Sensitive sectors such as dairy, selected agricultural products, and strategic industries are protected, reflecting a balanced approach to trade liberalisation .

The agreement comes at a time when bilateral trade, though relatively modest at $1.16 billion in FY2026, has grown at an 8% compound annual rate between FY2022 and FY2026 . The FTA aims to unlock considerable untapped potential through improved market access and lower trade barriers .

The India-UK FTA: A Gold Standard Pact

The India-UK FTA, which came into effect on July 15, 2026, is arguably the most significant bilateral trade pact India has concluded in recent years . The Commerce Secretary described it as a “gold standard” FTA, citing its broad sectoral coverage and deep reductions in both tariff and non-tariff barriers .

Indian exports will receive duty-free access on nearly 99% of tariff lines, covering almost the entire value of bilateral trade . In return, India will reduce or eliminate tariffs on 90% of UK tariff lines, with 85% becoming fully duty-free within a decade .

The agreement unlocks immediate opportunities for engineering goods, textiles and apparel, marine products, agriculture, gems and jewellery, leather and footwear, and chemicals . With bilateral merchandise trade at $25.1 billion in FY26 and services trade touching $35.5 billion, the potential for expansion is substantial .

The India-EU FTA: A Transformational Bet

The India-EU FTA—still to be formally announced—represents perhaps the most consequential economic alignment of the decade . Together, India and the European Union represent nearly 1.9 billion people, around a quarter of global GDP, more than one-fifth of global merchandise trade, and close to a third of global services output .

The agreement eliminates or substantially reduces tariffs on over 96% of tariff lines, covering nearly the entire value of bilateral trade over time . The current bilateral goods trade stands at roughly $136-140 billion (2024-25), with services contributing an additional EUR 60 billion . Analysts suggest that total annual trade could exceed EUR 200 billion over the medium to long term .

For India, the timing could scarcely be more important. Global trade growth has slowed to below 3% annually, protectionism is rising across advanced economies, and supply chains are being reconfigured amid strategic rivalries . Against this backdrop, the India-EU FTA anchors India firmly within the world’s most rules-based, high-value markets .

Beyond Tariffs: The Investment Magnet

Tariff reductions alone produce a limited outcome—improving price competitiveness without altering the underlying structure of production. The larger opportunity lies in using FTAs to attract investment into new, higher-value segments of the supply chain .

The Intermediate Goods Opportunity

This investment pull is strongest when tariffs are reduced on intermediate goods—components, machinery, specialised materials, and semi-finished products that circulate within regional and global value chains. When these tariffs fall, FTAs become magnets for firms seeking to optimise location. Companies can import high-quality components from an FTA partner, undertake assembly, processing, design or testing domestically, and then export the finished or further-processed goods back to the partner market or to third countries .

For India, this is particularly salient. The types of modern industries in which the country desires a larger footprint—electronics, automobiles, medical devices, renewable energy equipment, aerospace components, and pharmaceuticals—do not operate through fully domestic production chains. They depend intrinsically on the cross-border movement of inputs and technology. Reducing tariffs on intermediate products lowers production costs, improves access to quality inputs, and encourages firms to invest in India as a manufacturing and export base .

The TEPA Example: Investment Commitments

The India-EFTA Trade and Economic Partnership Agreement (TEPA)—signed with Switzerland, Norway, Iceland, and Liechtenstein—represents a pioneering model of investment-enabling frameworks. Beyond tariffs, TEPA embeds investment commitments: Article 7.1 records the target of EFTA states to invest USD 50 billion in India within the first ten years, followed by an additional USD 50 billion over the subsequent five years .

This investment commitment may be achieved through subsidies, tax breaks, or other business-oriented inducements. Governments may provide expedited approvals, coordinated inter-agency facilitation, and proactive resolution of regulatory bottlenecks . The phased tariff reductions on capital goods and industrial inputs cut set-up costs and aid technology transfer. Personnel mobility provisions enable EFTA-state manufacturers to deploy managerial and technical personnel during commissioning and scale—whose presence is often necessary to operationalise new facilities .

Similarly, the India-New Zealand FTA includes a commitment by New Zealand to invest NZ$20 billion (approximately Rs. 18.5 lakh crore) in India over 15 years . The agreement also includes provisions for streamlined visa pathways, including around 5,000 annual work visas, to facilitate talent mobility .

Regulatory Alignment: Converting Access into Usable Market Entry

Often, the chief barrier to trade today are not tariffs but standards, certification requirements, and sector-specific regulatory approvals. Regulatory alignment converts legal market access into usable market access. Mutual recognition arrangements, common technical standards, and quicker conformity assessments reduce friction for firms, especially in technology-intensive sectors, where compliance with technical standards is central to market entry .

TEPA’s Regulatory Cooperation Framework

TEPA addresses this through commitments on transparency in technical barriers to trade (TBT) and sanitary and phytosanitary (SPS) measures. While the WTO SPS/TBT Agreements allow members to adopt measures and notify the WTO if trade is affected, TEPA adds dedicated bilateral consultations and cooperation mechanisms . This reduces uncertainty and facilitates smoother market entry for EFTA-origin goods.

The UK CETA’s Services Liberalisation

The India-UK CETA adopts a negative-list approach for services commitments—all service sectors are covered unless expressly excluded . This allows service suppliers to assess market access upfront, cutting entry ambiguity and boosting predictability for service operations or service-heavy businesses. The agreement also sets out rights and obligations relating to the temporary entry of business visitors, intra-corporate transferees, contractual service suppliers, and independent professionals .

For Indian IT professionals, engineers, and specialists, this means greater certainty in accessing the UK market. For UK businesses, it means clearer pathways for deploying management and technical personnel in India .

Investment Protection: The Unfinished Business

European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen is not wrong in describing investment protection as “unfinished business” between India and the EU . Firms will more readily commit capital to expanding capacity, upgrading technology, training workers, and building supplier networks when they have confidence in the governance framework covering their investment. They should be secure in the knowledge that rules will not change unpredictably, that contracts will be meticulously honoured, and that disputes will be resolved by impartial adjudicators .

India’s Decoupling

A significant point of debate is India’s approach to investment protection in its new-generation FTAs. As legal scholar Prabhash Ranjan has observed, India is effectively “decoupling” its international investment law obligations from its international trade law obligations. Unlike the FTAs signed in the 2000s, the new ones do not contain investment protection rules. India is pursuing this decoupling because it wants to de-legalise its international investment relations to exercise greater control over foreign investment .

This has sparked considerable debate. Critics argue that it is eminently in India’s self-interest to embed investment-protection clauses within FTAs—transforming them into comprehensive free-trade and investment agreements—or to conclude investment protection agreements immediately after signing an FTA . Without such protection, investors may hesitate to commit long-term capital, particularly in the technology-intensive sectors where India seeks to build a larger footprint.

The debate is particularly salient for the India-EU FTA, where the EU has historically insisted on robust investment protection provisions. As the ICRIER experts note, the greater the technical complexity of the industry, the more important investment protection becomes .

Investment Facilitation: The Final Mile

Investment facilitation is distinct from protection. Protection reassures investors that their capital will be treated fairly; facilitation helps them to deploy that capital efficiently. Effective facilitation requires single-window clearances, short and transparent approval timelines, predictable taxation, smoother Customs procedures, and strong coordination between the Centre and states .

WTO IFDA: A Missed Opportunity?

India’s stance at the WTO on the Investment Facilitation for Development Agreement (IFDA) has become a subject of intense scrutiny. At the 14th Ministerial Conference in Yaounde, Cameroon, India stood alone in opposing the IFDA’s incorporation into the WTO framework . By March 2026, 131 members—including 94 developing countries—had backed the initiative .

The IFDA is, by design, modest in scope. It does not address market access, investment protection, or investor-state dispute settlement. Instead, it focuses on improving transparency, streamlining administrative procedures, and fostering cooperation between governments and investors . These are reforms that many countries—including India—have already pursued domestically .

India’s opposition reflects a deeper concern about the rise of plurilateral agreements within the WTO framework. The WTO has been anchored in consensus-based decision-making. Plurilateral agreements, negotiated among subsets of members, risk diluting this principle by creating parallel rule-making tracks that exclude dissenting countries .

However, India’s solitary opposition has strategic costs. The 131 participants in the IFDA account for over 75% of world imports (2025) and over 70% of world inward FDI flows (2024) . As the IFDA becomes a de facto global benchmark, countries that remain outside such frameworks may not escape their influence.

At the MC14, Commerce Minister Piyush Goyal indicated a possible way forward: establishing clear guardrails and legal safeguards for plurilateral agreements, enshrined in a Declaration adopted by consensus among all WTO members . This could clarify that the IFDA is a standalone agreement, confirm that it does not establish a precedent for other plurilateral initiatives, and underline that nothing in the IFDA affects the rights of non-participants .

The Services Dimension: Mobility and Digital Trade

FTAs are not just about goods. Services trade—particularly in IT, professional services, and digital delivery—represents a growing component of India’s trade relationships.

The UK CETA’s Digital Trade Commitments

The India-UK CETA includes significant digital trade provisions. Articles 12.5 and 12.6 require recognition of the legal validity and enforceability of contracts concluded by electronic means, as well as electronic signatures, time stamps, seals, and related trust services . The agreement promotes paperless trade and cooperation on e-documentation, reducing the need for physical documentation and enabling faster execution of cross-border agreements .

Mobility Provisions

The India-New Zealand FTA includes streamlined visa pathways, including around 5,000 annual work visas for Indian professionals in fields including IT, specialised health services, engineering, music teachers, chefs, and yoga practitioners . The TEPA includes comprehensive provisions on temporary movement of natural persons providing services (GATS Mode 4), covering business visitors, intra-corporate transferees, contractual service suppliers, and independent professionals .

These mobility provisions are not just about exporting services—they are also about enabling the deployment of personnel necessary to operationalise investments and transfer technology .

The Reality Check: Trade Deals Are a Start, Not the Destination

By themselves, FTAs are neither necessary nor sufficient for expanding trade and investment. The ICRIER experts argue that they are better regarded as a vital link in a chain of reforms to spur such expansion . Tariff cuts spark interest; eliminating duties on intermediate goods pulls investment into the value chain; regulatory alignment clears the path; investment protection builds the confidence to commit capital; and investment facilitation turns that commitment into factories, jobs, and exports .

India’s recent flurry of FTAs is an excellent start. But it is only a start.

Several challenges lie ahead:

1. Evaluating Existing FTAs: As a recent Koan Advisory Group report recommended, India should audit existing FTAs to assess whether they have met intended objectives and align future agreements more closely with industrial and export priorities .

2. Sector-Based Investment Screening: The report also recommends moving toward a sector-specific, national-security-led investment screening framework, particularly for sensitive sectors such as electronics, clean energy, and advanced technologies .

3. Reducing Dependence on Chinese Inputs: India’s manufacturing ambitions remain linked to global supply chains that include Chinese capital and components. The report suggests a phased strategy to reduce dependence on Chinese inputs where vulnerabilities exist, while utilising Chinese investment and technology in non-strategic sectors .

4. Completing Investment Protection: Addressing the “unfinished business” of investment protection, particularly with the EU, remains a priority .

5. Balancing Principles and Pragmatism at the WTO: India must navigate the tension between upholding multilateral consensus and engaging with plurilateral initiatives that are reshaping global trade rules .

Conclusion: The Marathon Ahead

There is nothing wrong with ambitious targets. At the very least, they signal a desired direction of travel and provide a useful benchmark for measuring success. But they cannot substitute for the speedwork needed to turn aspirations into achievements.

The signing of an FTA should be treated as only the beginning of a marathon. The hard yards of regulatory alignment, investment protection, and investment facilitation lie ahead. India’s recent flurry of FTAs—with New Zealand, the UK, the EFTA states, and potentially the EU—represents a decisive assertion of strategic economic confidence . But the true measure of success will be in the implementation.

Tariff cuts spark interest. Investment commitments pull capital into the value chain. Regulatory alignment clears the path. Investment protection builds confidence. Investment facilitation turns commitment into factories, jobs, and exports .

India’s economic strategy must move beyond reactive policymaking and focus on proactive integration through calibrated partnerships, stronger institutional coordination, and clearer market access objectives . The nation stands at a pivotal moment—not just in terms of trade deals concluded, but in terms of the reforms that will determine whether those deals translate into lasting economic transformation.

The marathon has just begun.

Questions and Answers

Q1: What are the key FTAs India has signed recently, and what are their ambitious targets?

India has concluded three major FTAs in 2026. The India-New Zealand FTA (signed April 2026) aims to double bilateral trade to $5 billion within five years, with 100% duty-free access for Indian exports . The India-UK Comprehensive Economic and Trade Agreement (effective July 2026) targets $100 billion in bilateral trade by 2030, with nearly 99% duty elimination on Indian exports to the UK . The India-EU FTA (pending formal announcement) projects $200 billion in bilateral trade by 2030, up from $136 billion in 2024-25 . Additionally, the India-EFTA TEPA with Switzerland, Norway, Iceland, and Liechtenstein includes investment commitments of USD 100 billion over 15 years .

Q2: Why are tariff reductions alone insufficient for trade expansion?

Tariff reductions improve price competitiveness without altering the underlying structure of production . The larger opportunity lies in attracting investment into new, higher-value segments of supply chains—particularly in sectors like electronics, automobiles, medical devices, and pharmaceuticals, which depend on cross-border movement of inputs and technology . FTAs must be complemented by regulatory alignment (standards, certifications), investment protection (governance frameworks, dispute resolution), and investment facilitation (single-window clearances, transparent approvals, predictable taxation) to fully realise trade expansion potential .

Q3: What is India’s approach to investment protection in its new FTAs, and why is it debated?

India is “decoupling” investment protection rules from trade agreements, unlike the FTAs signed in the 2000s. The new FTAs (UK, EFTA, New Zealand) generally do not contain investment protection provisions . This reflects India’s desire to maintain greater regulatory control over foreign investment. Critics argue this creates investor uncertainty, particularly for capital-intensive, technology-sensitive industries . The EU has described investment protection as “unfinished business” in India-EU negotiations, given the technical complexity of the sectors involved and the need for long-term capital commitment .

Q4: What is the WTO Investment Facilitation for Development Agreement (IFDA), and why did India oppose it?

The IFDA is a plurilateral initiative focused on improving transparency, streamlining administrative procedures, and fostering cooperation between governments and investors—but it does not address market access or investment protection . By March 2026, 131 WTO members (including 94 developing countries and most LDCs) had backed it . India’s opposition at MC14 (March 2026) is rooted in procedural concerns: that plurilateral agreements incorporated into the WTO framework could fragment the multilateral system and marginalise non-participants . India has signalled openness to safeguards on plurilaterals through a consensus-based Declaration .

Q5: What practical steps must India take to fully realise its FTA benefits, beyond signing agreements?

According to ICRIER experts, the “marathon” after an FTA requires: regulatory alignment (mutual recognition arrangements, common standards, quicker conformity assessments); investment protection (embedding investment-protection clauses or concluding separate investment agreements); and investment facilitation (single-window clearances, short transparent approval timelines, predictable taxation, smoother Customs, Centre-state coordination) . Additionally, a Koan Advisory Group report recommends auditing existing FTAs for effectiveness, aligning future agreements with industrial priorities, implementing sector-based investment screening, and reducing strategic vulnerabilities (including dependence on Chinese inputs) while maintaining manufacturing competitiveness . Joining the WTO IFDA could signal India’s seriousness about domestic reforms to both external partners and internal implementing agencies .

The Pawar Puzzle: Can the Veteran Make a Comeback?

The Stage is Set

As the Monsoon Session of Parliament unfolds in July 2026, all eyes are on one man: Sharad Pawar, the 85-year-old founder of the Nationalist Congress Party (NCP) and a political survivor who has witnessed more sunrises and sunsets than perhaps any other living Indian politician. The veteran leader, who has navigated India’s political currents for over five decades, now stands at the center of a high-stakes political drama that could reshape not only Maharashtra’s political landscape but also the national balance of power.

The context is charged with historic significance. The government is set to introduce contentious legislation on parliamentary delimitation—a constitutional amendment that proposes increasing the Lok Sabha strength from 543 to 850 seats. This legislation, if passed, would trigger the first nationwide delimitation exercise in decades and fundamentally alter the representation calculus for states across India. For Maharashtra, one of India’s most politically significant states, the stakes could not be higher.

At the heart of this unfolding narrative lies a deeply personal tragedy. On January 28, 2026, Maharashtra Deputy Chief Minister Ajit Pawar—Sharad Pawar’s nephew and the face of the breakaway NCP faction—was killed in a plane crash near Baramati Airport. The sudden demise of the 66-year-old leader created a political vacuum that has since set off a cascade of speculation, factional maneuvering, and strategic repositioning that now threatens to upend Maharashtra’s political equations.

The Anatomy of a Split: From Unity to Two Rival NCPs

To understand the current turmoil, one must first recall the events of July 2023. In what was then seen as a seismic political realignment, Ajit Pawar walked out of his uncle’s party, taking with him a substantial number of MLAs to join the BJP-Shiv Sena government in Maharashtra. The Election Commission subsequently recognized Ajit Pawar’s faction as the legitimate NCP, awarding it the party name and symbol.

In response, Sharad Pawar—who had founded the party in 1999 after his expulsion from the Congress—rebranded his rump faction as the Nationalist Congress Party (Sharadchandra Pawar), commonly referred to as NCP-SP. The two groups have since functioned as separate entities: one firmly within the ruling Mahayuti alliance (BJP-Shiv Sena-NCP led by Sunetra Pawar), and the other as a constituent of the opposition Maha Vikas Aghadi (MVA) alongside Congress and Shiv Sena (UBT).

The split was not merely organizational—it was deeply personal. Ajit Pawar’s break from his uncle Sharad represented a fracturing of the Pawar political dynasty that had dominated Maharashtra politics for decades. Yet even in separation, the two factions remained bound by family ties, historical legacy, and a shared voter base in the state’s Maratha strongholds.

The Tragedy That Changed Everything

On January 28, 2026, the political landscape of Maharashtra was irrevocably altered. Ajit Pawar’s chartered plane crashed while attempting to land at Baramati Airport, killing the Deputy Chief Minister and five others onboard. The impact was immediate and profound. Leaders across party lines paid their respects at the funeral in Baramati, and the Maharashtra government declared three days of state mourning.

The succession challenge that followed was managed with remarkable speed. Within days, Ajit Pawar’s widow, Sunetra Pawar, was elevated to his position as Deputy Chief Minister—making her the first woman to hold that office in Maharashtra’s history—and was subsequently elected as the NCP’s national president in February 2026. Prime Minister Narendra Modi personally extended his wishes, expressing confidence that she would “work tirelessly for the welfare of the people of the state and fulfil the vision of the late Ajitdada Pawar”.

But beneath the surface of this smooth transition, fault lines were already appearing. A legal notice issued by NCP national secretary Sachchidanand Singh on July 9 challenged Sunetra Pawar’s election as party president, claiming the process was “illegal, non-existent, and void”. Singh’s complaint centered on procedural irregularities: he argued that General Secretary Brijmohan Shrivastav had exceeded his authority in convening the national convention that elected Sunetra, bypassing the constitutionally designated officiating head, National Working President Praful Patel.

The notice demanded that the election be declared null and void, and that a fresh election be held with proper constitutional safeguards. While the party dismissed the challenge—pointing out that Singh had himself participated in the convention and voted for Sunetra’s election—the legal challenge exposed simmering discontent within the ruling NCP faction.

The Numbers Game: Delimitation and Parliamentary Arithmetic

The immediate political urgency behind the NCP speculation is the government’s ambitious legislative agenda. The Constitution (131st Amendment) Bill, 2026, along with the Delimitation Bill, 2026, proposes increasing the maximum number of Lok Sabha seats from 550 to 850, with up to 815 seats from states and 35 from union territories.

To pass a Constitutional Amendment, the NDA government requires a two-thirds majority in both houses of Parliament. With the current Lok Sabha strength at 540, the two-thirds threshold stands at 360 votes. The NDA, despite recent defections from opposition parties—including 20 MPs from the Trinamool Congress and 6 from the Shiv Sena (UBT)—has grown to 319 MPs, still short of the target.

This is where the NCP-SP’s eight Lok Sabha MPs become crucial. If Sharad Pawar’s faction were to align with the NDA, the ruling alliance’s strength would rise to 327—still short of 360, but significantly closer. Combined with strategic support from smaller parties and potential abstentions, this could provide the government with the numbers it needs to pass the delimitation legislation.

The stakes are particularly high for Maharashtra. The delimitation exercise, based on the 2011 Census, could significantly alter the state’s parliamentary representation. The government has indicated that seats would increase proportionately across all states, but southern states have expressed concern that their success in population control could result in reduced relative representation. Maharashtra, as one of India’s most populous states, stands to gain substantially from any delimitation exercise based on population—making the state’s political leaders key players in the legislative process.

The Signals and the Denials

The speculation over a possible NCP realignment gained momentum through a series of high-profile meetings. On July 22, 2026, Sharad Pawar and his daughter, Lok Sabha member Supriya Sule, met Prime Minister Narendra Modi in Parliament. Photographs showing Modi receiving Pawar at the door of his office, and the two leaders engaged in conversation alongside Sule, were widely circulated.

While party functionaries insisted the meeting was routine—focused on farmers’ issues and a memorandum submitted by Pawar to the PM—the political symbolism was impossible to ignore. The meeting came amid “growing speculation that the BJP was pushing for the reunion of the two NCP factions and the induction of a unified party into the NDA”.

Earlier, a late-night meeting at the official residence of Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis had triggered intense speculation. Leaders from both NCP factions—Praful Patel and Sunil Tatkare from the ruling NCP, and Jayant Patil from the Sharad Pawar camp—held separate meetings with Fadnavis over two days. While all sides maintained these were routine administrative discussions, the unusual sequence of interactions fueled talk of backroom negotiations.

The signals from within the NCP-SP camp have been mixed. Supriya Sule has repeatedly rejected suggestions that her party is preparing to cross over to the NDA. “The media has been predicting my swearing-in and ministerial portfolio for the past 12 years,” she quipped, dismissing the rumours. She has insisted that the NCP-SP remains part of the INDIA bloc and that no formal proposal from the ruling side has been received.

However, Sule also indicated that her party could support the delimitation bill if the government provided a written assurance of a 50% increase in Lok Sabha seats across all states—a position that suggests a willingness to consider conditional cooperation. This ambiguity has left political observers wondering whether the party is keeping its options open.

The Internal Fault Lines

Behind the public denials, both NCP factions face significant internal pressures. Within the ruling NCP under Sunetra Pawar, competition for influence is intensifying. Senior leaders Praful Patel and Sunil Tatkare are reportedly uncomfortable with the expanding role of Parth Pawar—Ajit and Sunetra’s son, who entered the Rajya Sabha after Sunetra vacated her seat to become Deputy Chief Minister.

A letter written by NCP state vice president Udaykumar Aher to Sunetra Pawar demanding that Parth Pawar be recommended for a Union Cabinet berth exposed these tensions. Aher accused “certain leaders” of attempting to sabotage the young leader’s political career. The letter sets up a potential contest between veteran leaders and the next generation represented by Parth Pawar, adding another layer of complexity to the succession challenge.

Patel has publicly acknowledged the challenge facing the organization, saying it is “difficult to fill the vacuum created by Ajit Pawar” and that the party needs to take “corrective steps” to remain relevant. His non-committal stance on the controversy surrounding Sunetra’s election has led to speculation about his own ambitions.

Within the Sharad Pawar-led NCP-SP, divisions are also apparent. According to reports, multiple MLAs—estimated at roughly half of the party’s assembly strength—have conveyed their preference for aligning with the NDA, arguing that staying in opposition has limited their ability to secure development funds for their constituencies. Some legislators have expressed dissatisfaction with the party’s occasional abstentions on government matters, calling for a more decisive stance.

Senior leader Jayant Patil’s meetings with BJP figures have added to the perception that the party is weighing its options. However, Pawar’s public restraint and his emphasis on national opposition frameworks have so far prevented a formal departure from the MVA.

The BJP’s Calculus

From the BJP’s perspective, a unified NCP within the NDA would serve multiple strategic objectives. First, it would consolidate the party’s position in Maharashtra, a state where the BJP has historically struggled to secure a majority on its own. The NCP’s traditional strength among non-Brahmin and Maratha voters would help the NDA consolidate these crucial demographics.

Second, a merged NCP would provide additional numbers in Parliament. According to sources, the BJP is proposing a deal that would offer two Union Cabinet berths to a reunited NCP. This would give the unified party representation at the central level while maintaining its identity as an independent entity within the NDA.

Third, the arithmetic for the delimitation bill requires every possible ally. If the NCP-SP’s eight MPs join the NDA, the alliance’s parliamentary strength would cross 327—and with strategic support from other parties like the DMK (whose rift with Congress has opened doors for negotiation), the government could potentially reach the two-thirds mark.

However, BJP sources have indicated that any official alignment with the NCP would require the reunification of the two rival factions first. The party has little appetite, sources say, for bringing Sharad Pawar or his key associates into the alliance on an individual basis. The preference is for a cohesive NCP entity that can serve as a reliable alliance partner.

Sharad Pawar’s Options

For Sharad Pawar, the current moment presents a classic dilemma—one that has defined his long political career. The veteran leader has several options, each carrying distinct risks and rewards.

Option One: Stay the Course with the MVA

Pawar could remain within the MVA alliance, maintaining his faction’s opposition to the BJP. This would preserve his ideological positioning and avoid alienating his core support base. However, it would also mean continued marginalization in state governance, with limited access to resources for constituency development. The internal pressure from MLAs who favor joining the ruling alliance would likely intensify.

Option Two: Reunify and Join the NDA

This option would involve merging the two NCP factions and entering the NDA. The benefits would be immediate: representation in the Union Cabinet, access to government resources, and a significant role in shaping the delimitation legislation. However, the political costs are substantial. It would represent a dramatic reversal of Pawar’s long-standing opposition to the BJP, risking his carefully cultivated image as a secular, opposition leader. The transition would also require navigating the complex power-sharing arrangement within the unified NCP.

Option Three: Conditional Cooperation Without Merger

A middle path would involve supporting the government on specific legislative issues—such as the delimitation bill—without formally joining the NDA. This would allow Pawar to extract concessions from the government while maintaining his independent identity. Supriya Sule’s comments about supporting delimitation with conditions suggest this option is being actively considered. However, this balancing act would be politically precarious, potentially angering both alliance partners and opposition colleagues.

Option Four: Merge with the Congress

Pawar has the option of merging his faction with the Congress, but this would pose problems regarding his role and his daughter Supriya Sule’s role within the party. The Congress, already weakened in Maharashtra, would welcome the infusion of organizational strength, but Pawar would likely lose his independent leadership position.

The Role of Delimitation

The delimitation legislation is both the catalyst for the current speculation and the prize at stake. The Constitution (131st Amendment) Bill, 2026, is a transformative piece of legislation that would revert to the constitutional principle of each state having seats in proportion to its population. This would mean that Lok Sabha constituencies across all states will have roughly the same population, a significant departure from the freeze imposed by the 42nd Amendment in 1976.

The Bill also authorizes Parliament to determine which census will be used for delimitation—the Delimitation Bill, 2026, specifies that the 2011 Census will be used. This is crucial because it means the next delimitation will be based on population data that is now 15 years old, avoiding the uncertainty of waiting for the delayed 2027 Census.

For Maharashtra, the implications are substantial. The state’s current representation in the Lok Sabha is 48 seats. Based on the proposed 50% increase model, the state could see a significant increase in its parliamentary strength. This has made Maharashtra’s political leaders—both in the ruling and opposition camps—keenly interested in the legislative process.

The delimitation bill has also raised concerns in southern states, where political parties fear that their success in population control could result in reduced relative representation. The government has argued that the 50% increase model would actually preserve the southern states’ share of Lok Sabha seats. However, the debate remains unresolved, and the NCP-SP’s position on the bill could influence the broader political calculus.

The View from Maharashtra

For the people of Maharashtra, the current political fluidity is both a source of concern and opportunity. The state has witnessed dramatic political realignments in recent years—the 2019 formation of the MVA, the 2022 split in Shiv Sena, the 2023 split in NCP, and now the potential reunification of the NCP factions. Each realignment has reshaped governance, altered development trajectories, and affected the delivery of public services.

A reunification of the NCP factions and their entry into the NDA would consolidate the ruling alliance in Maharashtra, potentially providing greater political stability and faster decision-making. However, it would also reduce the strength of the opposition, potentially diminishing democratic accountability and checks on government power.

The agricultural sector, in particular, has been a focus of Sharad Pawar’s political activity. His recent meeting with Prime Minister Modi, where he reportedly submitted a memorandum on farmers’ demands, highlights his continued engagement with this crucial constituency. Whether from inside or outside the government, Pawar’s influence on agricultural policy remains significant.

Conclusion: The Sunrises and Sunsets

Sharad Pawar has often reflected on the fleeting moments in politics, having “witnessed many sunrises and sunsets”. At 85, the veteran leader remains cautious about his future alliances amid Maharashtra’s shifting landscape. His political instincts—honed over five decades of navigating India’s complex political terrain—will determine the outcome of the current crisis.

The question at the heart of the Pawar puzzle is not just whether he can make a comeback—it is whether he will choose to. The veteran leader has demonstrated remarkable resilience throughout his career, often saving his party from disappearance and forming unexpected alliances that reshaped political equations. From the 2019 Maha Vikas Aghadi alliance with Shiv Sena and Congress to the 2023 split that redefined Maharashtra’s politics, Pawar has consistently proven himself a master strategist.

The coming days will be crucial. The Monsoon Session of Parliament will test the government’s legislative strength, and Sharad Pawar’s NCP-SP faction will hold significant leverage. Whether the veteran leader chooses to ally with the NDA, remain in opposition, or pursue a conditional path of issue-based support, his decision will resonate far beyond Maharashtra.

At present, there is no official confirmation regarding a merger or the establishment of an NDA alliance. The series of events—reports of ongoing discussions, meetings between senior leaders from various parties, and separate discussions with Chief Minister Fadnavis—indicate that talks are still underway behind the scenes. It is said that the two NCPs will merge first, and only then could they join the NDA.

The Pawar puzzle is a testament to the enduring complexity of Indian politics. As the veteran leader weighs his options, the nation watches. The implications of his decision will shape not only the future of the NCP but also the balance of power in one of India’s most politically significant states, and perhaps the national trajectory of representation and governance for decades to come.

Q&A: Understanding the Pawar Puzzle

Q1: What triggered the current political speculation about Sharad Pawar’s NCP faction?

The speculation has been fueled by several factors: the tragic death of Ajit Pawar in a plane crash on January 28, 2026; the subsequent succession of his widow, Sunetra Pawar, as Deputy Chief Minister and NCP president; a series of high-profile meetings between leaders from both NCP factions and Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis; and Sharad Pawar’s meeting with Prime Minister Narendra Modi on July 22, 2026. The government’s need to secure a two-thirds majority for the delimitation bill (proposing to increase Lok Sabha seats to 850) has added urgency to these discussions, as the NCP-SP’s eight Lok Sabha MPs could significantly bolster the NDA’s numbers.

Q2: What is the delimitation bill, and why does it matter for Maharashtra?

The Constitution (131st Amendment) Bill, 2026, proposes increasing the maximum number of Lok Sabha seats from 550 to 850 and authorizes delimitation based on the 2011 Census. This would revert to the constitutional principle of allocating seats to states in proportion to their population. For Maharashtra, a populous state with 48 current Lok Sabha seats, this could mean a significant increase in parliamentary representation. The bill also enables the implementation of women’s reservation (one-third of seats) following the 106th Constitutional Amendment. The legislation is politically charged because southern states fear reduced relative representation, while northern states stand to gain.

Q3: What internal divisions exist within the ruling NCP under Sunetra Pawar?

The ruling NCP faction faces several internal fault lines. A legal notice from party secretary Sachchidanand Singh has challenged Sunetra Pawar’s election as party president on procedural grounds. Senior leaders Praful Patel and Sunil Tatkare are reportedly uncomfortable with the expanding role of Parth Pawar (Ajit and Sunetra’s son), and a letter from a party vice president demanded Parth’s inclusion in the Union Cabinet, exposing competition for influence. Patel has called for “corrective measures” to address the vacuum left by Ajit Pawar’s death, suggesting discontent within the leadership ranks.

Q4: What options does Sharad Pawar have, and what are the implications of each?

Sharad Pawar has several options: (1) Stay within the MVA opposition alliance—preserving his ideological positioning but limiting access to government resources; (2) Reunify the NCP factions and join the NDA—gaining Cabinet representation but risking his secular credentials; (3) Offer conditional support on the delimitation bill without a formal merger—extracting concessions while maintaining independence; (4) Merge with the Congress—but this would raise questions about his and his daughter Supriya Sule’s roles. Each path carries distinct trade-offs between political power, ideological consistency, and organizational survival.

Q5: How would a reunified NCP joining the NDA affect Maharashtra and national politics?

At the national level, a reunified NCP joining the NDA would strengthen the ruling alliance’s parliamentary numbers. With its eight Lok Sabha MPs, the NDA could reach approximately 327 seats, closer to the two-thirds majority (360 votes) needed for constitutional amendments. This could facilitate the passage of the delimitation bill and other key legislation. In Maharashtra, it would consolidate the ruling Mahayuti alliance, potentially enhancing political stability but weakening the opposition MVA. However, it would also require navigating complex power-sharing arrangements, particularly regarding the roles of senior leaders like Praful Patel and the next generation represented by Parth Pawar.

Soul Searching Now, Not Later: A Spiritual Call to Self-Mastery

The Voice of a Modern Sage

In an era dominated by political upheavals, economic uncertainties, and ceaseless material pursuits, a solitary voice cuts through the noise with a message of profound simplicity and urgency. Ajit Kumar Bishnoi, a spiritual teacher and author, has made a compelling case in his recent writings for an immediate and honest introspection of the soul. His central thesis is straightforward yet revolutionary: we are all defined by a dominant emotion—lust, greed, anger, or hate. Out of these, lust in its various forms—whether for wealth, power, fame, or sensual pleasures—is the most common and harmful. His message is urgent: “Soul searching is required now, not later.”

Bishnoi is not a professional philosopher or a monk secluded in the Himalayas. He is a civil engineer by training, holding a Master’s degree in Building Construction from the University of Florida . He worked in the United States, returned to India in 1972, and built a successful business in dewatering—a construction-related field . His company grew to become a top Indian player in its niche, bringing him opulence and material success . Yet, like so many who achieve worldly prosperity, he found that “mental peace and happiness eluded him” .

This personal crisis became the turning point of his life. Bishnoi turned to the “book of eternal wisdom” – the Shrimad Bhagavad Gita, memorizing all 700 verses . His search for peace led him to the International Society for Krishna Consciousness (ISKCON), where he accepted His Holiness Lokanath Swami as his spiritual master . He even learned Sanskrit to gain a deeper insight into the verses . It is from this foundation of intense personal study, practical experience, and spiritual realization that Bishnoi speaks.

His journey is relatable because it mirrors the universal human condition. He began as a “common man,” filled with “great hopes” and the ego-driven desire to “show the world that I am superior” . He experienced the disillusionment of middle age when “the realization that what was hoped for has not materialized sets in” . He faced the physical and mental challenges of aging. But instead of succumbing to despair, he “refuses to quit” and underwent a complete transformation .

The Bhagavad Gita’s Diagnosis: Lust as the Eternal Enemy

Bishnoi’s call for soul-searching is grounded in a profound understanding of the Bhagavad Gita. He argues that no one except God could have explained the gravity of our situation better. He anchors his argument in the teachings of Lord Krishna, particularly verses 16.21, 3.37, and 3.39.

The Three Gates to Hell: Lust, Anger, and Greed

In the Bhagavad Gita, Lord Krishna declares:

“There are three gates leading to this hell-lust, anger, and greed. Every sane man should give these up, for they lead to the degradation of the soul.” (Bhagavad Gita 16.21) 

Bishnoi emphasizes this verse to make a stark point: these are not minor flaws but the very portals to our destruction. They are described as “highway robbers” that cause a man to fall into “the dark abyss of hell, misery or grief” . These three are the “enemies of peace, devotion and knowledge” . As one commentary explains, “The self is destroyed by merely entering at the gate” . It renders a person unfit for the “right exertion to attain the goal of life” .

The interconnected nature of these three is crucial to understand. The beginning of a demoniac life starts when one tries to satisfy his lust . When that lust is not fulfilled, “anger and greed arise” . It is a descending spiral that “can kill the self to such an extent that there will be no possibility of liberation from this material entanglement” . This is not a mere philosophical point; it is a psychological and spiritual reality that plays out in our personal lives, our relationships, and on the global stage.

The Insatiable Fire of Lust

Lord Krishna specifically singles out lust as the worst enemy of humanity:

“It is lust only which devours, and is a great sinner. Know this to be the enemy of the world.” (Bhagavad Gita 3.37) 

Bishnoi highlights this verse to explain that “lust is of many kinds, like lust for wealth, power, fame and sensuous attractions.” We all have weaknesses for all these, “but one of them dominates and defines us.”

The verse describes lust as born of the mode of passion (Rajo Guna) and as “all-devouring” and “greatly sinful” . Srila Prabhupada, in his commentary, offers a profound insight: “When a living entity comes in contact with the material creation, his eternal love for Krishna is transformed into lust… as milk in contact with sour tamarind is transformed into yogurt” . This is a powerful metaphor. Our inherent, pure love for the divine and for all beings is perverted into lust. The love of God becomes a desire for sense gratification. This is the root cause of our suffering. Lust is the force that “induces the pure living entity to remain entangled in the material world” .

The insatiable nature of this enemy is emphasized in verse 3.39:

“Thus, a man’s pure consciousness is covered by his eternal enemy in the form of lust, which is never satisfied and which burns like fire.” (Bhagavad Gita 3.39) 

Bishnoi quotes this verse to show that “wisdom is enveloped by this constant enemy of the wise in the form of desire, which is unappeasable as fire” . The image is powerful. Just as adding fuel to a fire only makes it burn brighter, the pursuit of lust only intensifies it. It can never be satiated. As the Manu-smriti states, “lust cannot be satisfied by any amount of sense enjoyment, just as fire is never extinguished by a constant supply of fuel” . This is the fundamental problem of materialism. A society built on the principle of “the more, the better” is destined for perpetual dissatisfaction and conflict.

Bishnoi relates this to the concept of “karmaphalas” (the fruits of deeds). He acknowledges the human condition where the bad fruits of our past deeds (karmaphalas) come to fruition, causing pain and suffering. His realization is that God can bail him out . The key is surrendering and allowing God to work on the deep-rooted nature that causes us to commit sinful actions in the first place.

From Shelter to Surrender: The Path to Transformation

Bishnoi makes a crucial distinction: “Taking shelter in God and remaining in His shelter are not the same.” He draws on the Gita’s description of four types of virtuous people who begin to worship the Supreme:

“Four kinds of virtuous people worship Me. These are a distressed person, an inquisitive person, a seeker of wealth and a wise person.” (Bhagavad Gita 7.16) 

The distressed person (arta) is one suffering from an incurable disease, life in jeopardy, or from grief . The inquisitive person (jijnasu) is dissatisfied with the world, feeling a void, and seeking “pure eternal bliss unmixed with grief” . The seeker of wealth (artharthi) craves money, position, and fame . The wise man (jnani) has attained self-illumination .

Bishnoi honestly admits that he initially fit all these descriptions at different times. He worshipped God when in distress, when seeking wealth, and when curious. This is the stage of “taking shelter.” It is a prayer born of necessity or desire for a particular outcome. But this is a limited and transactional approach. He realized he had to “graduate from taking shelter in God to remaining in the shelter of God.” This is the transformative surrender, where he began to “sincerely pray for Him to take charge of me.”

This is the moment when the “transformation began.” Bishnoi explains that “only God can help in changing the deep-rooted ones [aspects of nature] because He alone knows our real weaknesses and our deep desires.” This is a crucial point. We may be aware of our surface-level weaknesses, but the subconscious motivations, the deeply ingrained patterns of thought and behavior, are often hidden from us. Only a higher intelligence can see the complete picture and work to reform us.

He describes God’s “wonderful system of reformation” in a deeply personal way: “He punishes me with my bad karmaphalas coming to fruition, and He rewards me with good karmaphalas on alternate days.” This might sound simplistic, but it reflects the universal principle of learning through consequences. We are tested; we are also given moments of relief and joy to encourage us. The pain of reformation is necessary to change one’s nature.

Bishnoi’s philosophy is not one of passive waiting. It is a call for intense and active self-correction. In another article, he describes his practical regimen, which included adopting a “simple, bland food” diet with high nutritional value, starting a regimen of walking and yoga, cutting out harmful entertainment, and taking up spiritual practices like chanting, prayer, and thanking God .

He frames this struggle for self-mastery in the context of the “three gunas” (modes): goodness (sattva), passion (rajas), and darkness (tamas) . The more passion and ignorance we have, the more difficult it will be to take shelter in God. “Lust, greed, hate, etc. will keep on raising their ugly heads, and we will succumb helplessly” . The only way out is to actively seek God’s help through surrender.

The Soul Searching Process

According to Bishnoi’s framework, this soul-searching is a disciplined process, not a vague feeling. It can be understood as a series of steps:

1. Honest Identification

One must identify their “most pronounced personal weakness,” their dominant emotion . Is it a lust for money, power, fame, or physical pleasure? Is it uncontrolled anger or deep-seated greed? This step requires brutal honesty with oneself. Bishnoi clarifies that “nobody else needs to know except God, and He already knows” .

2. Persistent Prayer

One must begin “praying for help till God accepts these prayers for reformation” . This is not a one-time request but a persistent, sincere effort, much like a child persistently asking a parent for help. It is about building a relationship and showing a genuine commitment.

3. Tolerating the Reformation Process

God will begin to show a “mirror to remind one of the weakness” . This will produce feelings of shame and, often, anger towards God. Bishnoi’s advice: “Tolerate them” . This is a critical insight. The path of self-improvement is often painful. It forces us to confront our flaws and let go of parts of our identity. The anger is a natural, ego-defensive reaction.

4. God Takes Control

Once the prayer is accepted, “Reformation has begun, with God in control” . At this stage, the process is no longer a struggle but a surrender. The individual consciously allows a higher power to guide their life, trusting that “He alone knows our real weaknesses and our deep desires” .

Bishnoi’s own experience serves as a testament. He explains how God begins to reform us “as only He can,” making his life “smooth” through “intuitions” and subtle hints. “God made me realise that if I want a superior life, I must get rid of it” . This points to a process of conscious awakening—the ability to catch oneself before acting on a negative impulse, and to make the right choice. It’s the transition from a person who “lies all day and tells his children to be truthful” to a person whose actions reflect their own teachings .

Conclusion: The Unfinished Business of Self-Mastery

Ajit Kumar Bishnoi’s message is a profound and necessary counter-narrative to the noise of our times. In a world obsessed with external achievements, economic growth, and political power, he redirects our gaze inward. He argues that the real “unfinished business” of our lives is not a trade deal, an election, or an insurgency, but the unfinished business of self-mastery.

His call for “soul searching now” is timely. The “dominant emotion” that defines an individual also defines a collective. A nation consumed by greed will prioritize exploitation over welfare. A society driven by lust for power will value domination over cooperation. A civilization fueled by anger will choose conflict over peace.

Bishnoi’s path is not one of renunciation but of transformation. It’s about channeling the fire of passion into a force for good. It is the journey from a life consumed by external, unending desires to a life guided by a connection to the eternal. It begins with a choice: to remain a slave to one’s own nature, or to surrender and begin the difficult, painful, but ultimately liberating work of reformation. In that choice lies the hope for individual peace and global harmony.

Questions and Answers

Q1: What is the central message of Ajit Kumar Bishnoi’s article “Soul searching is required now not later”?

The article calls for an immediate, honest, and deep introspection of the soul to identify and conquer the dominant negative emotion that defines us. Bishnoi argues that we are all controlled by a primary emotion—lust, greed, anger, or hate—and that “lust” in its many forms is the most common and harmful. He draws upon the Bhagavad Gita (verses 16.21, 3.37, and 3.39) to argue that lust is the eternal enemy of the soul, covering pure consciousness and acting as an insatiable fire. He urges readers to stop waiting and to begin the process of “soul-searching” by praying to God for help in reforming their nature. This is based on his personal experience of moving from a life of material success to one of spiritual peace .

Q2: How does Bishnoi distinguish between “taking shelter in God” and “remaining in the shelter of God”?

Bishnoi explains this crucial difference through the lens of the Bhagavad Gita, citing verse 7.16, which describes four kinds of virtuous people who worship God (the distressed, the inquisitive, the seeker of wealth, and the wise). He admits that he initially fit all these descriptions—he took shelter in God for specific purposes like relief from distress or for worldly gains. However, he realized this was a transactional approach. “Remaining in the shelter of God” is a higher stage of surrender. It means moving beyond seeking a particular outcome and sincerely praying for God to “take charge” of one’s life. This is when true transformation begins, as God works on deep-rooted aspects of nature that a person cannot change on their own.

Q3: Why does Bishnoi believe “lust” is the “worst enemy of humanity”?

Bishnoi anchors his belief in the Bhagavad Gita. Lord Krishna explicitly describes lust as “greatly sinful” and “all-devouring” (verse 3.37) . He states it is “the eternal enemy of a knowledgeable person,” covering one’s wisdom with a desire that “burns like fire” and is never satisfied (verse 3.39) . Bishnoi expands on this to explain that lust is not just sexual desire but encompasses a “lust for wealth, power, fame and sensuous attractions.” He argues that this lust is the root cause of other issues, as when it is not fulfilled, it leads to anger. It is the primary force that keeps individuals entangled in material existence and prevents them from achieving true peace and spiritual progress.

Q4: What practical steps does Bishnoi suggest for one to begin their “soul searching”?

Bishnoi outlines a practical, four-step process based on his own experience and spiritual teachings. The first step is honest identification: recognizing and accepting one’s “most pronounced personal weakness” or dominant emotion . The second step is persistent prayer: sincerely praying to God for help in reforming this nature until the prayers are accepted . The third step is to tolerate the reformation process: God will show a “mirror to remind one of the weakness,” and while this may produce “shame for oneself” and “anger towards God,” one must tolerate these reactions as signs that the reformation has begun . The fourth step is surrender, allowing God to take control of the process, trusting that He knows our deepest weaknesses .

Q5: How does Bishnoi’s personal background lend credibility to his spiritual message?

Bishnoi’s background as a successful civil engineer and businessman is key to his message’s appeal. His journey is not that of an ascetic who has always been detached from worldly life. He earned a Master’s degree from the University of Florida, worked in the USA, returned to India, and built a top company, achieving wealth and success . However, this success left him unfulfilled, and he “realized that search for peace culminates in spiritual knowledge” . This makes him a credible witness for those who are in the middle of the “rat race.” He shows that material success is not a solution to inner turmoil and that the path to peace is available to anyone, regardless of their background. He is a “common man” who refused to “quit” and found a new purpose .

The Hydrogen Paradox: A Green Leap Forward or an Ecological Leap Backward?

A Historic Inauguration Amidst Troubling Questions

On July 17, 2026, Prime Minister Narendra Modi stood at the Jind railway station in Haryana and flagged off India’s first indigenous hydrogen-powered passenger train. The 10-coach trainset, developed entirely through indigenous technology, represents a landmark achievement in Indian engineering. With a 3,200 HP propulsion system and capacity for nearly 2,600 passengers, it is among the longest and most powerful hydrogen-powered passenger trains in the world .

The train will initially operate on the 89-kilometer Jind-Sonipat section of the Northern Railway, connecting Jind Junction, Gohana Junction, and Sonipat while serving intermediate stations including Jind City, Pandu Pindara Junction, and Bhambhewa . For school children who gathered at the station to witness the historic moment, the hydrogen train represents a “pollution-free” future—a train that emits only water vapour and heat, with no smoke and virtually no carbon emissions during operation .

Yet as the celebrations fade, a more complex picture emerges—one that challenges the narrative of an unqualified green triumph. As a retired Head of Forest Force from Karnataka and economics teacher at the Karnataka Forest Academy has argued, the real challenge lies not in building hydrogen trains, but in ensuring that the entire ecosystem powering them is as green as the technology promises. The Jind-Sonipat route may be a technological milestone, but it also raises troubling questions about India’s broader environmental trajectory.


Understanding the Technology: How Hydrogen Trains Work

To appreciate the promise and the paradox, one must first understand the technology itself. India’s hydrogen train is fundamentally an electric train with its power generation onboard. The locomotive uses a Proton Exchange Membrane (PEM) fuel cell—essentially a small power plant . Hydrogen stored in high-pressure cylinders at 350 bar is fed into the fuel cell, where it combines with oxygen from the surrounding air . The fuel cell splits hydrogen molecules into protons and electrons; the protons pass through the membrane while electrons flow through an external circuit, generating electricity that powers the traction motor. At the other end of the fuel cell, protons, electrons, and oxygen recombine to form water vapour and heat .

The train consists of two Hydrogen Driving Power Cars (DPCs), one at each end, each generating 1,200 kW (1,600 hp) of power. The system is supported by lithium iron phosphate (LFP) batteries to adjust for energy fluctuations and ensure steady operation . The hydrogen storage cylinders, fuel cells, and batteries are housed in the two DPCs, while the eight trailer coaches carry passengers.

Safety has been a paramount concern given hydrogen’s highly flammable nature. The project has been designed using the internationally recognized principle of “defence in depth,” with multiple independent safety systems including hydrogen leak detectors, heat sensors, flame detectors, smoke detectors, and continuous ventilation systems. An independent safety assessment was conducted by TÜV SÜD, Germany, and the project complies with international standards including NFPA-2 and the ISO 19880 Series . A dedicated refuelling facility at Jind, with nearly 3,000 kilograms of hydrogen storage capacity, has been approved by the Petroleum and Explosives Safety Organisation (PESO) .


The Real Carbon Footprint: Where Does the Hydrogen Come From?

The critical question that the article poses is deceptively simple: What is the source of the hydrogen powering these trains?

Hydrogen, as the article explains, is not naturally available in its pure form. It must be extracted—most commonly through the electrolysis of water, which splits water (H₂O) into hydrogen and oxygen. The main agent enabling this electrolysis is electricity. If that electricity is generated from renewable sources like solar, wind, or nuclear, the resulting hydrogen is known as green hydrogen. But if the electricity comes from fossil fuels—coal, oil, or gas—the hydrogen carries a significant carbon footprint and is not truly green.

This distinction has profound implications. The article cites a techno-economic study assessing solar-powered green hydrogen production in Rajasthan. The study found that even under optimal conditions, the Levelized Cost of Hydrogen (LCOH) using a solar photovoltaic system with an alkaline water electrolyzer was approximately USD 5.96 per kilogram—still well above India’s break-even target of USD 2 per kilogram . Other studies from rural India estimate green hydrogen costs around USD 6.01 per kilogram . The gap between current costs and economic viability is substantial.

Moreover, as the article highlights, the efficiency losses at each stage of the process compound the problem. Electricity is used to produce hydrogen through electrolysis. The hydrogen is then compressed, stored, transported, and finally converted back into electricity onboard the train through the fuel cell. Energy losses occur at every stage—generation, transmission, compression, storage, and conversion. By contrast, an electric train draws power directly from the grid, with far fewer stages of energy conversion. This makes the hydrogen proposition “quite expensive and sufficiently inefficient” unless the hydrogen is genuinely green and produced with renewable energy.


Advantages on the Ground: Where Hydrogen Trains Make Sense

Despite these concerns, the article acknowledges that hydrogen trains offer distinct advantages in specific contexts. The most compelling case is for remote, non-electrified routes where overhead electric lines are impractical or uneconomical.

Consider the Himalayas, where landslides frequently disrupt the running of heritage trains for considerable periods. If a track is restored after disruption, a hydrogen train can run immediately—without waiting to restore a continuous power supply line. This flexibility minimizes operational downtime and carbon footprint. Similarly, in hilly or inaccessible areas, laying overhead electric lines is not only expensive but also environmentally destructive, requiring infrastructure that further fragments fragile ecosystems. Hydrogen trains offer an alternative—they eliminate the need for continuous overhead electrification, as electricity is generated onboard through hydrogen fuel cells .

The article’s author recommends hydrogen trains specifically in regions where tracks are newly constructed but emphasizes a critical caveat: care must be taken to ensure that forests are not sacrificed in the hills for laying new train lines. This underscores a fundamental tension—hydrogen trains are a technical solution to a specific set of circumstances, but they cannot compensate for the environmental destruction of the routes they traverse.


The Forest Fragmentation Challenge: India’s Ecological Time Bomb

This brings us to the article’s most profound critique: the ecological cost of building new railway lines through India’s forests.

In the warming world, downpours are always heavy. Within two years, Wayanad in Kerala has experienced another landslide, claiming several human lives and damaging properties. Heavy downpours and landslides in Jammu and Kashmir’s Poonch and other areas, as well as in Assam, have become disturbingly frequent. “Linear fragmentation of forests is detrimental to wildlife, too,” the article warns. Forests serve as “corridors” for wildlife and as crucial regulators of ecosystems and climate.

The Institute of Social Change, Bengaluru, has published a study on the valuation of forests, concluding that Indian forests provide ecological services worth $2.5 trillion annually—nearly two-thirds of India’s GDP. This includes carbon sequestration, soil conservation, the protection of forested catchments that feed rivers, and the regulation of floods and landslides. The article argues that “laying rail lines on several hilly routes is an environmental disaster, which cannot be compensated for by a hydrogen train.”

This is a critical point. The construction of any linear infrastructure—railway lines, roads, highways—through forests fragments them, degrading their ecological integrity. The Forest Survey of India’s data remains “silent on fragmentation” . Experts have noted that “fragmentation or breaking up of forests into smaller pieces is the most serious threat to biological diversity. It isolates wildlife populations, prevents genetic exchange, and leads to ecological collapse” . The environmental accounting of India’s forests still fails to measure fragmentation caused by roads, power lines, and mining—missing what truly defines forest health .

Furthermore, the article highlights the impact of deforestation on rainfall patterns. There are studies concluding that forests from the coast, through the ghat section and further up to the interior of the continent, are useful in setting a convection current that can transport moisture from the ocean up to 1,000 kilometers into the interior of the continent and bring rain there. The impact of deforestation in one area can thus bring drought 1,000 kilometers away. A hydrogen train, however green its operations, cannot undo the ecological damage caused by the infrastructure required to run it.


The Broader Railway Context: Electrification Achieved, Green Hydrogen Pending

India’s railway network has undergone a historic transformation in recent years. As the article notes, the entire broad-gauge network has been electrified at the cost of huge investment. According to ministry data, 99.4% of the broad-gauge network is now electrified, with work underway on the remaining sections . Fourteen railway zones, including Central Railway, Eastern Railway, Northern Railway, and Western Railway, have achieved 100% electrification . Diesel consumption has been reduced by 62% compared to 2016-17—a remarkable achievement .

The article argues that as long as the power for these electric trains is generated from renewable sources, the existing infrastructure is already capable of running electric trains without any carbon footprint. Replacing existing electric trains with hydrogen trains would serve “no useful purpose.” This is a crucial point often lost in the enthusiasm for new technology. Hydrogen is a solution for the gaps, not the whole.

The National Green Hydrogen Mission (NGHM), with an outlay of ₹19,744 crore, is India’s flagship initiative to make the country a global hub for green hydrogen production and export . Under the mission, 18 companies have been awarded a cumulative production capacity of 862,000 tonnes per annum for green hydrogen, and 15 companies have been awarded a total manufacturing capacity of 3,000 MW per annum for electrolyzers . These are ambitious targets. But as the article notes, if hydrogen production and its subsequent compression, storage, and transportation are all completed without using renewable energy, they will impart a significant carbon footprint.

The Global Context: Hydrogen Trains Still Under Experimentation

The article notes that Germany, the United States, and China have used the technology and have been running hydrogen trains for the last few years. “These countries are encountering certain technical issues, and the endeavours are still under experimentation.” India has exhibited its technological prowess in starting a hydrogen train on the Jind-Sonipat route, but it has also inherited the same challenges. The technology remains at a nascent stage globally.

Studies on hydrogen trains in the UK have found that energy consumption with a hydrogen-powered vehicle can be reduced by 34% compared to diesel-electric trains, and well-to-wheel carbon dioxide emissions can decrease by 55% assuming hydrogen is produced from natural gas . If green hydrogen from photovoltaic sources is used, emissions can be reduced by 56% . The numbers are encouraging, but the gap between “assuming” and “achieving” remains wide.

The Way Forward: A Dual Path

The article’s conclusion is nuanced and pragmatic. It recommends hydrogen trains in regions where tracks are newly constructed, but insists that care must be taken to ensure that forests are not sacrificed in the hills for laying new train lines.

This represents a dual path. First, we must invest in green hydrogen infrastructure—renewable energy sources for electrolysis, efficient storage and transport, and sustainable production methods. India’s solar and wind potential, particularly in states like Rajasthan and Gujarat, is immense . The cost of green hydrogen, currently around USD 5.96-6.01 per kilogram, must be driven down through technological innovation and policy support .

Second, we must be ruthless in protecting India’s remaining forests. The country cannot afford to sacrifice ecological services worth $2.5 trillion annually for the sake of linear infrastructure that fragments these ecosystems. The article’s argument is clear: a hydrogen train cannot compensate for the environmental disaster of carving new rail lines through forests. The “green” label is meaningless if the route itself destroys the very ecosystems it purports to protect.

Conclusion: The Unbearable Weight of Green Promises

India’s first hydrogen train is a remarkable engineering achievement. It demonstrates the country’s technological prowess and its commitment to the National Green Hydrogen Mission and the goal of net-zero emissions by 2070. But as the article’s author powerfully argues, we must not allow the excitement of the technology to blind us to the deeper ecological realities.

The question is not whether hydrogen trains are green. It is whether the entire ecosystem powering them—from hydrogen production and compression to the route it traverses—is sustainable. India’s railways have achieved near-total electrification, but that electrification must be powered by renewables. Hydrogen trains are a solution for specific contexts where electrification is impractical, but they are no substitute for renewable electricity. And no amount of hydrogen-powered operation can undo the ecological damage of carving new railways through India’s forests.

As a new railway lines are proposed through inaccessible and hilly areas, the viability of each must be examined not just through the lens of speed or connectivity, but through the lens of ecological destruction. The article’s author asks a pointed question: “No one thought if we are ceding more land in the hills, thereby allowing heavy downpours to claim more lives.” The answer demands soul-searching—and action.

Questions and Answers

Q1: What is India’s first hydrogen train, and how does it work?

India’s first hydrogen-powered passenger train is a 10-coach trainset that was flagged off on July 17, 2026, on the Jind-Sonipat section of the Northern Railway. It is powered by a 3,200 HP hydrogen fuel cell propulsion system and can accommodate around 2,600 passengers, making it one of the longest and most powerful hydrogen trains globally . The train uses a Proton Exchange Membrane fuel cell to convert hydrogen into electricity onboard, producing only water vapour and heat as by-products. It consists of two Hydrogen Driving Power Cars (DPCs) at each end, each generating 1,200 kW of power, supported by lithium iron phosphate batteries .

Q2: What is the difference between “green hydrogen” and conventional hydrogen?

“Green hydrogen” is produced through electrolysis of water using electricity generated from renewable sources such as solar, wind, or nuclear energy. Conventional hydrogen, often called “grey hydrogen,” is produced using electricity from fossil fuels like coal, oil, and gas, or extracted from natural gas (steam methane reforming) without capturing the carbon emissions . Studies from India estimate green hydrogen costs at USD 5.96-6.01 per kilogram, well above the USD 2 per kilogram breakeven target, while grey hydrogen is significantly cheaper but carries a high carbon footprint .

Q3: Why does the article argue that hydrogen trains are not a substitute for renewable electricity?

The article argues that hydrogen trains involve multiple stages of energy conversion—electricity is used to produce hydrogen through electrolysis, then the hydrogen is compressed, stored, transported, and finally converted back into electricity onboard the train through the fuel cell. Energy losses occur at every stage, making the proposition “quite expensive and sufficiently inefficient” . By contrast, electric trains draw power directly from the grid, with far fewer stages of energy conversion, and as long as that electricity is generated from renewable sources, they operate without a carbon footprint. Replacing existing electric trains with hydrogen trains would serve no useful purpose.

Q4: What are the ecological concerns about new railway lines in hilly and forested areas?

The article warns that new rail lines through inaccessible and hilly areas fragment forests, degrade their ecological integrity, and increase vulnerability to landslides and floods. Forests provide crucial ecological services, including carbon sequestration, soil conservation, and regulating rainfall patterns, estimated to be worth $2.5 trillion annually—nearly two-thirds of India’s GDP . Linear fragmentation of forests is cited as “the most serious threat to biological diversity,” isolating wildlife populations and preventing genetic exchange . The article cites recent landslides in Wayanad, Poonch, and Assam as evidence of the growing risks from deforestation and infrastructure development in vulnerable regions. A hydrogen train, however green its operation, cannot compensate for the destruction caused by its route.

Q5: What is the author’s final recommendation regarding hydrogen trains?

The author recommends hydrogen trains only in regions where tracks are newly constructed, but emphasizes a critical caveat: care must be taken to ensure that forests are not sacrificed in the hills for laying new train lines. Hydrogen trains are a solution for specific contexts—remote, non-electrified routes where overhead electric lines are impractical, or in hilly areas where landslides frequently disrupt service—but they cannot substitute for renewable electricity or justify ecological destruction. The article’s overall message is that the broader ecosystem powering hydrogen trains, from production to transportation to the route itself, must be genuinely sustainable, and that India must weigh the ecological costs of new infrastructure against its benefits.

The Smouldering Generation: When a Spark Ignites a Powder Keg of Hopelessness

A Movement Like No Other

On a sweltering July afternoon in Delhi, tens of thousands of young people gathered at Jantar Mantar, the historic protest site that has witnessed countless demonstrations over the decades. But this was different. The faces were younger—many still in their teens or early twenties—and their anger was not about land, not about farmers’ prices, not about the usual political fault lines that have defined Indian protest movements for generations.

They were marching for something more fundamental: hope.

The “Cockroach Janta Party” (CJP)—a satirical social media movement that transformed into a full-fledged protest phenomenon—had called for a march to Parliament as the Monsoon Session began on July 20, 2026. What followed was a police crackdown that left at least 60 protesters and 118 police officers injured, with 70 protesters arrested (since released on bail) . The images of young students being beaten with batons and tear-gassed went viral across social media, sparking outrage that extended far beyond Delhi’s borders .

But as columnist Rajagunathan has argued, the government’s initial tendency to dismiss CJP as a short-term phenomenon, a spark that would die down once the NEET exam was rescheduled, fundamentally misread the nature of the discontent. This was not about one leaked exam paper. It was not even about one minister’s resignation. It was about “the slow accumulation of disappointment among middle-class youth, including those from BJP’s core support base” [citation:original].

The Genesis: A Satirical Name with Deadly Serious Intent

The CJP’s name itself carries a powerful backstory. It was inspired by remarks made earlier this year by India’s Chief Justice, who used the word “cockroach” to describe unemployed young people turning to journalism and activism. When the comments sparked outrage, he clarified that he had been referring only to those with “fake and bogus degrees” . The young protesters reclaimed the label with defiance—if they were to be dismissed as cockroaches, they would embrace the identity and make themselves impossible to ignore.

The immediate trigger was the NEET-UG 2026 paper leak in May, which forced the exam to be cancelled and rescheduled. But the deep-seated anger had been building for years. The UGC’s Promotion of Equity in Higher Education Institutions Regulations, 2026—notified in January—had already sparked outrage among general category students. The regulations mandated every higher education institution to set up Equal Opportunity Centres, Equity Committees, and 24/7 helplines, with representation exclusively from SC, ST, and OBC communities .

Critics argued that this effectively positioned general category students as “potential perpetrators of harassment,” with no provision for penalising false complaints . While the government maintained that the rules would apply equally to all categories , the perception of institutionalised discrimination against non-quota students had already created a “slow-burning ember” of resentment [citation:original].

The Spark That Lit the Powder Keg

The NEET leak was the spark that finally ignited this smouldering discontent. For middle-class families across India, competitive examinations represent the only escape from the cycle of birth and poverty . As a financial analyst quoted in the Irish Times put it, “The only way you can break out of your cycle of caste and poverty is through a competitive examination, where you can get into the [police service or the public engineering service], somewhere where people will salute you, irrespective of whether you’re lower caste or a Muslim” .

When that path is compromised by systemic corruption, the sense of betrayal is profound. The students’ anger was directed at Union Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan, who they held responsible for repeated leaks of major public exams. His resignation became the CJP’s central, non-negotiable demand .

The Wangchuk Factor: A Hunger Strike That Galvanised a Nation

The protests gained unstoppable momentum when Sonam Wangchuk—the Ladakh-based education activist and climate campaigner—joined the CJP’s protest at Jantar Mantar on June 28, 2026, launching an indefinite hunger strike . Over 26 days, he subsisted on nothing but salt and water, losing nearly 11 kilograms .

Wangchuk was forcibly removed from the protest site by Delhi Police on July 18 and taken to hospital, where he continued his fast. The Delhi High Court later facilitated his transfer to Medanta Hospital in Gurugram. Even under specialist medical care, he refused to end his fast without meaningful safeguards for the young protesters .

His defiance resonated far beyond the student community. On July 22, he issued a video statement from his hospital bed, declining appeals from ministers—including Health Minister JP Nadda—to end his strike. “Many leaders, including ministers from the ruling party, have appealed to me to end my fast. I want to do that too because my work is important to me,” he said. “But I would not end my hunger strike unless the government gave me an assurance that no force or retaliatory action would be used against students” .

The Political Calculus: Why the Government Miscalculated

The government’s initial response to the CJP protests was shaped by several miscalculations.

Mistaking a Symptom for the Problem

First, as Rajagunathan argues, the government saw CJP as an “agenda-driven trouble-maker” rather than a symptom of something more complex. The problem was not just a leaked exam paper; the remedy sought was not just an education minister’s resignation. The real underlying problem was “a growing sense of hopelessness among youth, about good quality education and jobs” [citation:original].

The government’s reluctance to appear weak by bowing to student pressure was understandable from a political perspective. But by focusing on the trees, it missed the forest. The CJP protests were not an isolated phenomenon—they were the visible manifestation of a deeper crisis of opportunity that has been building for years.

Misreading the Demographics

Second, the government misread the demographic composition of the protesters. These were not primarily from the “vanchit, peedit, shoshit groups whom govt does not want to alienate” [citation:original]. Instead, the movement gained traction among non-quota classes—the very demographic that has, in the past, been the most vocal among BJP supporters.

This is the most politically significant dimension of the protests. The middle-class segment that is most agitated is the one that invests most of its hopes in cracking the entrance exam code (and money in coaching classes)—whether it is IIT-JEE, CAT, NEET, or the multiple state-level Common Entrance Tests [citation:original]. This middle class is “not a large demographic electorally,” but it has been “a key element in cascading Modi’s popularity, through its ability to articulate political views” [citation:original].

The Delimitation Distraction

Third, as Rajagunathan notes, the BJP was focused on the bigger prize of 2029 general elections, where women’s reservation and delimitation are major challenges. The government needed to drum up Rajya Sabha and Lok Sabha numbers to pass the delimitation and Lok Sabha expansion amendments in time for 2029. It took its eyes off the short-term election threats. Both Uttar Pradesh and Punjab go to polls in early 2027, and there was “no way politics was going to take a sista” while the government was focused on its legislative agenda [citation:original].

The Coalition of Discontent: Opposition, Farmers, and the Arc of Disillusionment

As the protests gained momentum, they attracted a coalition of discontented actors that made them far more dangerous to the government than a mere student agitation.

Political Parties Join the Fray

On July 21, opposition MPs, including Congress leader Rahul Gandhi, staged a protest outside Prime Minister Modi’s residence. In a rare and dramatic move, police detained Gandhi and his sister Priyanka as they staged a sit-in. Images of Gandhi being carried away by police officers swept social media . The detention of the country’s main opposition leader, while not unprecedented, sent a powerful signal that the government was rattled.

The CJP’s Kolkata debut on July 23 saw Left student organisations join forces with the movement, demanding Pradhan’s resignation, the dissolution of the National Testing Agency, and justice for students subjected to police action . As the CJP spokesperson Saurav Das explained, the protests were designed to expand beyond Delhi: “The idea behind the nationwide protest is to create Jantar Mantars across India. Every district needs a Jantar Mantar because this government is not listening to students” .

The Farmer Factor

On July 22, farmer leader Rakesh Tikait arrived at Jantar Mantar to support the student movement. His message was both a warning and a promise: “Jantar Mantar ki chingari desh mein mashal banegi” (the spark from Jantar Mantar will become a torch across the country). He added, “Kisanon ki nazar pura andolan par hai aur tractor bhi tayyar rakhe gaye hain” (Farmers’ eyes are on the entire movement, and tractors have been kept ready) .

Tikait had been detained by Aligarh Police earlier in July while traveling to Greater Noida to support farmer protests . His presence at Jantar Mantar signalled a potential alignment of the farmers’ movement—which had already shaken the government during the 2020-21 protests—with the student agitation. As Rajagunathan warned, “The entry of Rakesh Tikait, a farm leader in western UP, shows efforts will also be made by narrow interest groups to cash in on BJP vulnerabilities in UP” [citation:original].

The Gen Z Dimension: Echoes of Bangladesh and Nepal

International observers drew parallels between India’s student protests and the Gen Z-led movements that challenged governments in neighbouring Bangladesh and Nepal . Pramit Pal Chaudhuri, head of the India practice at the Eurasia political risk consultancy, warned that the protests “have put the BJP on warning, the Modi government on warning.” While the government was unlikely to suffer big electoral defeats soon, “the sweeping victories that they used to get before, that will become increasingly more difficult” .

What made these protests different from previous agitations was the demographic profile of the protesters. Unlike the anti-CAA protests of 2019-20 or the farmer protests of 2020-21, this movement emerged from the government’s own core support base. As Shekhar Gupta, editor-in-chief of ThePrint, observed, the protests are “particularly troublesome” for Modi “because this comes from what is essentially his base, which is the urban middle-class, mostly Hindu aspirational population. They are the BJP’s default voters and they feel let down” .

The Government’s Response: Concessions and Red Lines

By late July, the government’s position had softened on some issues while hardening on others. On July 24, after a second round of talks with the CJP delegation, Union Ministers JP Nadda and Dr Jitendra Singh reportedly agreed to two key demands: adequate compensation for families of students who allegedly died by suicide following the paper leak, and the withdrawal of cases against protesting youth .

However, indications were that the government would not ask Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan to resign. Instead, it intended to shift the focus towards sweeping reforms of the examination system through legislation and administrative measures. The government had already taken steps including a top bureaucratic reshuffle and the dismissal of many NTA officials as part of a wider overhaul .

The breakthrough on Wangchuk’s hunger strike came late on July 23, when Nadda and Singh met him at Medanta Hospital and conveyed the government’s assurances. Wangchuk finally ended his 26-day fast . In his post-fast statement, he revealed that 65 Members of Parliament across party lines had either met him personally or signed letters urging him to end his fast .

The Deeper Crisis: Youth Unemployment and the Hope Deficit

The CJP protests have exposed a deeper structural crisis that no amount of government assurances can immediately resolve. The underlying problem is “youth unemployment, or youth frustration,” as Chaudhuri puts it. “We have a huge labour bulge, 370 million youths in India and unemployment rates among them are high enough to represent a very large pool of discontented people” .

The Union Budget 2026, presented by Finance Minister Nirmala Sitharaman, reflected the government’s confidence that its political foundations were secure. It avoided populist tax cuts or headline-grabbing sops. But as one analysis noted, “For unemployed graduates and rural youth facing shrinking opportunities, the message may sound evasive” .

Rajagunathan’s analysis cuts to the heart of the matter: “This is ultimately not about one exam or one minister. It is about addressing the larger concerns of a core BJP support base, which cannot be easily mollified by cash payouts or doles. The spark is getting lit because there is a powder-keg of hopelessness about the future, building up in large sections of middle-class youth” [citation:original].

The Path Forward: The Unfinished Business of Hope

The CJP protests have forced a reckoning. The government’s outreach must continue, as Rajagunathan urges [citation:original]. But outreach alone cannot address the deeper crisis. The government cannot “ignore or discredit” these protests, because “this is precisely the time when it suits every rival political party to queer the political pitch” [citation:original].

The challenge is systemic. India’s education system is failing to prepare its youth for the jobs of the future. Competitive examinations—once the great equaliser—are now seen as systems that entrench inequality and corruption. The promise of economic growth has not translated into dignified employment for millions.

The CJP protests are not the first student agitation in Indian history, and they will not be the last. But they are a warning. The government has won the battle over the NEET paper leak, but it is losing the war for the hearts and minds of its own base. Unless it addresses the “growing sense of hopelessness” among youth, the sparks will keep flying—and eventually, they will ignite a fire that no amount of police action can extinguish.

The CJP’s threat to create “a Jantar Mantar in every district” is more than rhetoric. It is a blueprint for a movement that could redefine Indian politics. The question is not whether the government can suppress the protests—it is whether it can address the grievances that gave birth to them.

Questions and Answers

Q1: What is the Cockroach Janta Party (CJP), and why does it use such an unusual name?

The CJP is a student-led protest movement that began in response to the NEET-UG 2026 paper leak. The name comes from a controversial remark by India’s Chief Justice, who used the word “cockroach” to describe unemployed young people turning to journalism and activism. When the comments sparked outrage, he clarified he was referring only to those with “fake and bogus degrees.” Young protesters reclaimed the label defiantly, turning an insult into a movement identity . Though not a registered political party, the CJP has evolved into a nationwide movement capable of drawing tens of thousands onto the streets .

Q2: Why does Rajagunathan argue that the government misjudged the CJP protests?

Rajagunathan argues the government made three key miscalculations. First, it saw CJP as an “agenda-driven trouble-maker” rather than a symptom of deeper problems—a “growing sense of hopelessness among youth” about education and jobs [citation:original]. Second, it misread the protesters’ demographics—they came from the non-quota middle classes, which have been a core BJP support base, not the marginalized groups the government has tried hard not to alienate. Third, the government was distracted by its 2029 legislative agenda (delimitation, women’s reservation) and overlooked short-term threats from UP and Punjab elections in early 2027 [citation:original].

Q3: What role did the UGC’s 2026 equity regulations play in building resentment?

The UGC’s Promotion of Equity in Higher Education Institutions Regulations, 2026, notified in January 2026, mandated every higher education institution to set up Equal Opportunity Centres, Equity Committees, and 24/7 helplines, with representation exclusively from reserved categories . Critics argued this positioned general category students as “potential perpetrators of harassment,” with no provision for penalising false complaints. Although the government maintained rules would apply equally to all categories, the perception of institutionalised discrimination against non-quota students created what Rajagunathan calls a “slow-burning ember” of resentment—available to ignite when NEET leaked [citation:original].

Q4: What was Sonam Wangchuk’s role in the protests, and how did his hunger strike end?

Sonam Wangchuk, the Ladakh-based education activist, joined the CJP protest at Jantar Mantar on June 28, 2026, launching an indefinite hunger strike. He subsisted on salt and water for 26 days, losing 11 kilograms . Delhi Police forcibly removed him from the protest site on July 18 and took him to hospital; the Delhi High Court later facilitated his transfer to Medanta Hospital. He refused to end his fast without assurances against police action on students . On July 23, Union Ministers JP Nadda and Jitendra Singh met him and conveyed government assurances, including consideration of compensation for suicide victims and no cases against peaceful protesters. Wangchuk ended his fast that night .

Q5: Why do the CJP protests pose a particular political risk to the BJP?

The protests are “particularly troublesome” for the BJP because they emerge from its own core support base: “the urban middle-class, mostly Hindu aspirational population” who are “the BJP’s default voters” . This demographic is not large electorally but plays an outsized role in “cascading Modi’s popularity through its ability to articulate political views” [citation:original]. The protests have also attracted a coalition of discontented actors: opposition parties (AAP, Congress, Left student groups), farmer leaders (Rakesh Tikait), and potentially the farmers’ movement itself. As Eurasia’s Pramit Pal Chaudhuri warned, while the government may not suffer big defeats soon, “the sweeping victories that they used to get before, that will become increasingly more difficult” .

East to West, Waist-to-Height Is Best: India’s Paradigm Shift in Measuring Metabolic Health

A Quiet Revolution in Public Health

On July 12, 2026, a seemingly innocuous policy announcement from India’s Ministry of Health and Family Welfare sent ripples through the public health community. The government announced plans to introduce waist-to-hip ratio (WHR) tracking across public hospitals as part of a nationwide strategy to curb obesity, marking a definitive shift away from the Body Mass Index (BMI) that has dominated global obesity screening for decades .

This was no mere bureaucratic adjustment. It was the culmination of decades of mounting evidence that BMI—a simple mathematical formula dividing weight by height squared—systematically fails to identify metabolic risk in South Asian populations. As public health expert K. Srinath Reddy has argued, the Ministry’s directive represents a recognition that “BMI is a flawed measure of obesity, since it does not correctly estimate total body fat, which is associated with major CVD and diabetes” [citation:original]. The real revolution, however, lies not in WHR alone but in what Reddy and others argue should be the preferred measure: the waist-to-height ratio (WHtR).

The Problem with BMI: A 19th-Century Tool for a 21st-Century Epidemic

BMI was first described in 1832 by Adolphe Quetelet, a Belgian statistician who compared weight to height [citation:original]. It was popularised by American physiologist Ancel Keys in 1972 and became the globally used measure for differentiating underweight, normal weight, overweight, and obesity [citation:original]. For nearly two centuries, this simple calculation has guided clinical decisions, public health policies, and even insurance premiums.

The problem is that BMI does not distinguish between contributions to body weight from fat, muscle, bones, and body fluids [citation:original]. A muscular athlete and a sedentary individual with high body fat could share the same BMI, yet their health risks could not be more different. More critically, BMI does not distinguish between general obesity and abdominal obesity—the accumulation of fat around internal organs known as visceral adiposity [citation:original].

Visceral fat is considered a key driver of non-communicable diseases such as type 2 diabetes, early-onset hypertension, and cardiovascular disorders . It is metabolically active, releasing inflammatory chemicals that contribute to insulin resistance, chronic inflammation, high blood pressure, and high cholesterol .

The South Asian Paradox: Thin on the Outside, Fat on the Inside

India’s shift away from BMI is driven by a phenomenon that researchers have termed the “South Asian paradox” or the “thin-fat phenotype” . South Asians—including Indians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, and Sri Lankans—are genetically predisposed to accumulate visceral fat even while maintaining a normal body weight as measured by BMI .

Studies have consistently demonstrated that Indians develop diabetes and heart disease at lower BMI thresholds than Western populations. A person of South Asian descent with a BMI of 21 kg/m²—considered healthy by global standards—may already carry dangerous levels of abdominal fat . The UK’s National Institute for Health and Care Excellence (NICE) has recognized that “people from Black, Asian and minority ethnic family backgrounds are prone to central adiposity and have an increased cardiometabolic health risk at lower BMI thresholds” .

The genetic basis of this phenomenon is increasingly well-understood. South Asians have lower lean mass and higher body fat percentage at similar or lower levels of BMI compared to European populations . A meta-analysis of imaging studies found that South Asians had higher abdominal subcutaneous adipose tissue and similar visceral adipose tissue volume at lower BMIs, meaning that at equivalent BMI, their visceral fat volume is significantly higher . The “thrifty genotype” hypothesis suggests that natural selection favoured genes that stored excess food as reserves for unfavourable weather, but in an era of abundance, these genes now predispose South Asians to metabolic disease .

The Practical Challenge: Why WHR Falls Short

The Ministry’s initial announcement favoured the waist-to-hip ratio (WHR) . WHR compares the measured circumference of the waist and hip and has been widely studied as an anthropometric marker of abdominal obesity [citation:original]. It has different cut-off levels for men and women, and different cut-offs for Caucasians and Asians [citation:original].

However, as Reddy points out, WHR faces significant practical challenges in community settings [citation:original]. While measuring waist circumference is easy, measuring the hip requires the subject to be clothed only in thin underwear—a requirement that poses cultural barriers across India [citation:original]. Frontline health workers may face resistance, particularly from women in rural communities, if asked to strip for measurement. Moreover, measurement of the hip requires precise identification of the “largest circumference of the buttocks or the widest part of the hips,” a task that even trained researchers find challenging [citation:original].

The Superior Alternative: Waist-to-Height Ratio

Reddy argues compellingly that the Ministry should adopt the waist-to-height ratio (WHtR) in preference to WHR [citation:original]. First validated in children and later adopted for adults, WHtR has been endorsed by multiple international agencies, including NICE and the European Society of Cardiology .

The advantages are compelling:

1. A Simple, Universal Cut-off: Unlike WHR, which requires different thresholds for men and women and for different ethnicities, WHtR has a universal cut-off point of 0.5 . The message is elegantly simple: “Keep your waist to less than half your height” . A person of height 170 centimetres should keep their waist circumference below 85 centimetres. This rule works across sexes and all ethnicities .

2. Stronger Predictor of Mortality: NICE has recommended WHtR over WHR because it is a stronger predictor of mortality risk and accurately identifies early cardiometabolic health risks across all ethnicities and sexes .

3. Easier to Measure: Measuring the waist requires only a simple tape measure and can be done in fully clothed individuals [citation:original]. This is far more practical for community screening, particularly for the nearly 1 million Accredited Social Health Activist (ASHA) workers who will be deployed for the nationwide obesity screening programme .

4. Easy Self-Monitoring: Individuals can easily measure their own WHtR at home, enabling self-monitoring of risk reduction over time [citation:original]. A WHtR below 0.5 spells low risk; 0.5 to 0.59 indicates increased health risks; and 0.6 or more indicates further increased risk .

The Grassroots Rollout: One Million ASHA Workers

The nationwide rollout of the new screening programme is ambitious in scale. Nearly one million ASHA workers—India’s cadre of community health activists—will be deployed across the country . Equipped with specialised measuring tapes and digital tracking logs, these workers will measure WHR (and ideally, Reddy argues, WHtR) while also serving as community counsellors, educating households about portion control, reducing consumption of ultra-processed foods, and increasing physical activity .

“We are seeing a rise in central obesity among the Indian population,” one government official told Mint. “By implementing waist-to-hip ratio tracking directly in government hospitals, we can intercept metabolic issues before they turn into chronic conditions” . Another official added: “This is no longer just an adult problem; our front-line workers are being trained to spot early markers of obesity in children right at the doorstep” .

The screening will cover adults visiting outpatient departments and lifestyle disease clinics at public hospitals, while ASHA workers will conduct community-level tracking during household visits . The programme aims to make obesity screening a routine component of local health records, covering adults and monitoring obesity indicators among children .

The Laboratory Complement: TG:HDL Ratio

Reddy also proposes a simple laboratory index to complement anthropometric measures. Since measuring LDL sub-fractions in specialised laboratories is expensive, researchers have identified an excellent surrogate marker: the ratio of serum triglycerides to HDL cholesterol (TG:HDL) [citation:original].

This ratio correlates well with the “small dense” sub-fraction of LDL—the most atherogenic form of cholesterol [citation:original]. Studies from Thailand and other Asian populations have validated TG:HDL as a predictor of cardiovascular risk. A study of over 60,000 diabetic patients found that a TG:HDL ratio of 2.52 was the optimal cut-off for predicting high 10-year cardiovascular risk . The ideal ratio is less than 2; a ratio of 3 or more spells trouble [citation:original].

Combining WHtR and TG:HDL ratio would make cardiometabolic risk assessment feasible and accurate in primary care settings [citation:original]. A WHtR below 0.5 and TG:HDL ratio below 3 are easy to advocate as measurable targets [citation:original].

The School Dimension: Catching Risk Early

The Ministry’s programme also extends to schools. While the initial focus is on adults, experts have noted that WHtR was first validated in children and later in adults [citation:original]. India’s growing childhood obesity epidemic—part of a global trend that has seen 390 million children and adolescents overweight or obese worldwide—demands early intervention .

Research from India has shown that waist-to-height ratio is superior to BMI for identifying at-risk children . The Tri-Ponderal Mass Index (TMI), a newer measure calculated as weight divided by height cubed, has shown superior predictive capacity for adolescent obesity in Indian populations, but WHtR remains the simplest and most practical for school-based screening .

The Health Ministry’s recommendation to measure WHtR in schools has generated discussion among doctors and public health experts . While many welcome the shift, they point out that introducing waist measurements on a large scale—particularly in schools—will require proper training, standardised methods, and sensitivity towards children’s privacy and body image concerns .

The Urgency: India’s Obesity Time Bomb

The policy shift comes not a moment too soon. India’s obesity crisis is accelerating at an alarming rate. The ICMR-INDIAB national study found that one in five urban adults is now overweight or obese . A Lancet study projects the number of overweight and obese adults in India to rise from 180 million in 2021 to 449 million by 2050 . By mid-century, the crisis is expected to include around 218 million men, 231 million women, and more than 30 million children aged 5-14 years .

The economic burden is staggering. Healthcare costs rise, productivity falls, and quality of life diminishes. Obesity has emerged as a major public health challenge, increasing the risk of diabetes, hypertension, heart disease, and mental health disorders . As one expert observed, “Obesity is said to be the analogous to the ‘new smoking'” .

The Unfinished Business: Cultural Resistance and Implementation Challenges

Despite the scientific consensus, implementation will not be straightforward. The Ministry’s directive on measuring WHR will face cultural resistance across India [citation:original]. Frontline health workers may face antagonism if they ask women or men to strip to their underwear for hip measurements [citation:original]. This is precisely why Reddy and others advocate for WHtR, which requires only a waist measurement and can be done with clothing on [citation:original].

Moreover, as the India Today report noted, “introducing waist measurements on a large scale, particularly in schools, will require proper training, standardised methods and sensitivity towards children’s privacy and body image concerns” . Without proper protocols, inaccurate measurements or discomfort among students could reduce the effectiveness of the programme .

Conclusion: A Measure of True Health

India’s shift from BMI to measures of central adiposity represents a paradigm shift in public health—one that acknowledges the unique physiology of South Asian populations and the limitations of one-size-fits-all approaches. By adopting WHtR and complementing it with the TG:HDL ratio, India can move from “a measure of how much” to a measure of “where” and “what kind”—providing a far more accurate picture of cardiometabolic risk.

The message is simple enough for anyone to remember: “Keep your waist to less than half your height.” In a nation of 1.4 billion people, where the obesity epidemic is accelerating faster than the healthcare system can respond, that simple rule—backed by a million ASHA workers and standardised screening—may be the most powerful public health intervention of the decade.

Questions and Answers

Q1: Why is India moving away from using Body Mass Index (BMI) as the primary measure of obesity?

BMI has come under considerable criticism as a flawed measure because it does not correctly estimate total body fat and does not distinguish between general obesity and the more dangerous abdominal obesity (visceral adiposity) [citation:original]. BMI fails to differentiate between contributions to body weight from fat, muscle, bones, and body fluids. For South Asian populations, the problem is even more acute due to the “thin-fat phenotype”—they develop diabetes and heart disease at lower BMI thresholds than Western populations, while carrying dangerous visceral fat despite having a “normal” BMI . The Lancet Commission on Obesity has specifically found that BMI often misclassifies health risks in South Asians .

Q2: What is the difference between Waist-to-Hip Ratio (WHR) and Waist-to-Height Ratio (WHtR)?

WHR compares the measured circumference of the waist and hip. It has different cut-off levels for men and women and for different ethnicities [citation:original]. However, it poses practical challenges, particularly measuring the hip, which requires the subject to be clothed only in thin underwear—a culturally sensitive issue in India [citation:original]. WHtR compares waist circumference to height and has a universal cut-off point of 0.5 for all sexes and ethnicities: “Keep your waist to less than half your height” . WHtR is a stronger predictor of mortality risk and is significantly easier for individuals to measure at home . It has been endorsed by NICE and the European Society of Cardiology .

Q3: What is the “South Asian paradox” or “thin-fat phenotype”?

South Asians—including Indians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, and Sri Lankans—are genetically predisposed to accumulate visceral fat (dangerous abdominal fat around internal organs) while maintaining a normal body weight as measured by BMI . This means many South Asians may not appear overweight according to BMI but still carry significant abdominal fat, increasing their risk of serious illness . The “thrifty genotype” hypothesis suggests that natural selection favoured genes that stored excess food as reserves, but in an era of abundance, these genes now predispose South Asians to metabolic diseases like diabetes and cardiovascular disease . Studies have shown a 3-fold higher diagnosis of diabetes among South Asians despite being young and lean compared to Caucasian populations . This phenomenon is why central obesity measures are particularly important for India.

Q4: What role will ASHA workers play in India’s new obesity screening programme?

Nearly one million Accredited Social Health Activist (ASHA) workers will be deployed across India to implement the new screening programme . Equipped with specialised measuring tapes and digital tracking logs, they will measure waist-to-hip ratio (or ideally, waist-to-height ratio) during household visits and in government hospitals . Beyond measurement, they will serve as community counsellors, educating households about portion control, reducing consumption of ultra-processed foods, and increasing physical activity . They will also assist in mapping high-risk clusters so that local administrations can execute targeted nutritional interventions . The screening will cover adults visiting outpatient departments and lifestyle disease clinics, while also monitoring obesity indicators among children .

Q5: What is the TG:HDL ratio, and why is it recommended as a complement to waist measurements?

The TG:HDL ratio is the ratio of serum triglycerides to HDL cholesterol. It serves as an excellent surrogate marker for “small dense” LDL—the most atherogenic sub-fraction of LDL cholesterol—without requiring expensive specialised laboratory testing [citation:original]. Studies have validated this ratio as a predictor of cardiovascular risk. A study of over 60,000 diabetic patients found that a TG:HDL ratio of 2.52 was the optimal cut-off for predicting high 10-year cardiovascular risk, with higher ratios associated with a dose-dependent increase in risk . The ideal ratio is less than 2; a ratio of 3 or more indicates elevated cardiometabolic risk [citation:original]. Combining WHtR (a simple anthropometric measure) with TG:HDL ratio (a simple blood test) would make cardiometabolic risk assessment both feasible and accurate in primary care settings [citation:original].

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