"On March 27, 2019, just days after the Election Commission of India announced the general election schedule, Prime Minister Narendra Modi addressed the nation in the late afternoon to announce Mission Shakti — a successful anti-satellite (ASAT) test in which a missile interceptor destroyed a dysfunctional satellite. I was among the very few voices then who publicly questioned the timing and purpose of the test."
Through an FAQ dossier, the Ministry of External Affairs (MEA) justified the test as a measure to “safeguard our space assets”, even though the ASAT was not a defensive system and could only serve as deterrence or retribution. In the same document, the MEA also claimed that India had no intention of entering an arms race in outer space, opposed the weaponisation of space, and would use the system only for “peaceful purposes”.
My criticism at the time was that the ASAT test diverted scarce and massive resources to a hypothetical scenario of space wars, while far more urgent defence priorities loomed — such as “addressing formidable gaps in India’s air-delivery platforms, air defence and propelling the midcourse interception capability towards fruition”.
Since then, not much has been heard about the ASAT system. The status of the coveted Ballistic Missile Defence (BMD) programme has also largely remained under wraps during the first two terms of the Modi government. Unlike the pre-2014 era — when the Advanced Air Defence (AAD) and Prithvi Air Defence (PAD) systems were publicly showcased, and four tests of the Prithvi Defence Vehicle (PDV) were conducted in 2014, 2017, and 2019 — very little information has trickled out over the past decade about the missile defence programme and its deployments.
To explain for beginners: a long-range missile has three stages — boost (launch), midcourse (cruise), and terminal (targeting). Missile defence aims to intercept an incoming missile in any of these phases, preferably as early as possible in the case of nuclear-armed missiles. Missile defences are classified into endoatmospheric interceptors (within Earth’s atmosphere, below the Kármán line at about 100 km altitude) and exoatmospheric interceptors (outside the atmosphere).
Most systems focus on terminal-phase interception, where the response window is measured in seconds or minutes. Nuclear-armed missiles, however, are ideally intercepted in the midcourse phase, where their ballistic trajectory is predictable and destruction is easier in outer space. The most effective yet most difficult stage is the boost phase — seconds or minutes after launch. Only a few countries have pursued boost-phase interception, which requires either positioning interceptors close to launch sites or using directed-energy weapons from space-based platforms.
Currently, space-based interceptors remain conceptual. The US Navy’s Aegis warships, armed with standard missiles (SMs), are the only platforms capable of attempting boost-phase interception. The US also fields the Ground-based Midcourse Defense (GMD) system, Terminal High Altitude Area Defense (THAAD), and Patriot Advanced Capability (PAC)-3 for terminal interception, and Aegis/SMs as versatile assets.
Russia maintains dual-use systems such as the S-300, S-400, and S-500, along with the Cold War-era Galosh system. China has advanced from its HongQi (HQ)-9 and -11 lower-tier platforms to mid-course interceptors HQ-19 and HQ-20, which were displayed at its 80th anniversary parade this September. Israel fields a distinct layered defence: Iron Dome (lower tier), David’s Sling (upper tier), and Arrow-2/-3 (exoatmospheric).
India’s AAD and PAD are both endoatmospheric. While the Defence Research and Development Organisation (DRDO) describes PAD as exoatmospheric, in reality, AAD provides lower-tier, point defence (15–30 km altitude) and PAD offers upper-tier, area defence (50–80 km altitude) against missiles with ranges of 1,000–2,000 km.
The PDV-1 and PDV-2, however, were true exoatmospheric platforms, designed to intercept 3,500–5,000 km range missiles at altitudes of 120–150 km. The PDV-1’s first test in April 2014 reportedly fell short of its goals. A second test in 2017 was declared a success, followed by another in 2019, and then its adaptation for the ASAT test two months later.
All three systems — the AAD, PAD, and PDV — were precision interceptors, though the AAD and PAD were also designed for air defence against non-ballistic aerial platforms. The AAD system was last tested in July 2024, but little is known about PAD’s development status or deployment.
It remains puzzling why the United Progressive Alliance government, under which the BMD programme took shape, never announced the deployment of a layered defence network. Equally puzzling is the lack of enthusiasm from the Modi government, despite its muscular projection of defence symbols, towards deploying indigenous BMD systems. Whether this stems from doubts about interception technologies — or scepticism about whether even extensive deployments could provide a credible nationwide shield — remains unclear. Neither the political leadership nor the national security establishment has articulated a vision for missile defence: whether for comprehensive homeland defence, denial deterrence, or integrating offence-defence capabilities.
Speculation grew after the 2024 AAD test, particularly following confirmed reports that AAD intercepted Pakistan’s Fatah-II missile over Sirsa, Haryana, on May 10, 2025. The PAD is rumoured to be deployed around the National Capital Region (NCR), as DRDO chief V K Saraswat claimed in 2012. An email to Saraswat seeking comment went unanswered.
A 2010 Business Standard report indicated that there were close to 200 vulnerable sites that required missile defence, including the national capital, home to the National Command Authority. In 2007, Saraswat had estimated two BMD regimes would be needed to cover 400 sq. km each to protect Delhi and other major cities — Mumbai, Chennai, Bengaluru, and Hyderabad.
The status of PDV-1 after 2019, and the fate of PDV-2, remain unknown. DRDO officials confirmed to me that PDV-1 development continues and that “long-range interceptors will be part of a nationwide shield in whatever architecture it comes up”. But they also admitted India’s Green Pine (Swordfish) radar, with a range of about 600 km, is insufficient for long-range interception beyond 2,000 km. Whether PDV delays stem from radar limitations remains unclear.
Meanwhile, the Modi government launched Project Kusha, with three interceptors — M1 (150 km), M2 (250 km), and M3 (350 km) — intended as extended air defence systems. Officials say these will form the bedrock of India’s missile defence architecture, though it is unclear whether this comes at the expense of PDV progress.
Operation Sindoor and the announcement of the Sudarshan Chakra have reignited debate. As Defence Secretary Rajesh
Kumar Singh remarked at the Southern Command Defence Tech Seminar (September 12), Operation Sindoor exposed capability gaps and served as a “reality check” for the armed forces.
Sections of the defence scientific community believe the indigenous BMD programme lost momentum as the armed forces pushed for the S-400.
Some DRDO insiders resisted foreign collaboration in earlier years. A retired defence official told me the military was unwilling to rely solely on indigenous systems, as nationwide defence against nuclear threats required a broader architecture. A Navy commander I once spoke with doubted DRDO’s rapid-fire “successful” test record, noting that even the Americans then struggled with precision targeting in their advanced systems.
After the US refused to sell THAAD to India, offering only the PAC-3 instead, and opposed Israel’s transfer of the Arrow-2 system (co-developed with US firms), Russia’s S-400 emerged as the frontrunner. In hindsight, the S-400 acquisition proved decisive — a “game changer”, as demonstrated in Operation Sindoor. It would have been ironic had THAADs entered India only to shoot down Pakistani F-16s, pitting American hardware against itself.
Whatever the reasons for India’s half-hearted pursuit of indigenous BMD, the country has compensated with heavy investment in layered air defence. From the Indo-Israeli medium-range/long-range surface-to-air missile (MR/LRSAM) to the upgraded Akash system and new indigenous variants, India’s air defence strides have left a strong imprint on recent conflicts.
I narrate this backstory to provide context for the Sudarshan Chakra, the mission announced by Modi from the ramparts of the Red Fort this Independence Day.
Something more?
The Mission, Modi said, “will be a powerful weapon system” that will “not only neutralise the enemy’s attack but will also hit back at the enemy many times more”. He proclaimed that the system would be ready within 10 years, by 2035, and promised that “all the important places of the nation, including strategic as well as civilian areas like hospitals, railways, and any centre of faith, will be given complete security cover through new platforms of technology”.
Invoking Hindu mythology, he cited the Sudarshan Chakra of Krishna — its might and strategy displayed in the battle of the Mahabharata — as the inspiration for what could emerge as a national security shield. Without delving into technical details, he declared that this “entire, modern system” would be developed over the next decade through indigenous research, development, and manufacturing.
Modi emphasised that the system “will calculate the possibilities of the future in terms of warfare and work out a strategy of Plus One”, and that it would be designed “for targeted precision action”. He also stressed that the “security shield should keep expanding” and that “whatever technology comes to us, our technology should prove to be better”, adding, “I want to expand this national security shield, strengthen it, (and) modernise it”.
The part of Modi’s statement that stood out most was his claim that the Sudarshan Chakra “will not only neutralise the enemy’s attack but will also hit back at the enemy many times more”. At first glance, this may sound like rhetorical bravado. But taken literally, it suggests that the envisioned security shield would integrate offensive platforms with defensive ones — an offence-defence integration. The only other precedent for such doctrinal posturing was in the American Ballistic Missile Defense Review (BMDR) of 2019 under the Trump administration, which outlined similar integration plans. From a nuclear standpoint, however, such a posture carries immense implications for deterrence, both conventional and nuclear. Whether India’s national security establishment has actually envisaged this remains unclear.
While many ideas surfaced in the announcement, it is evident that Modi was speaking both to the domestic audience and to India’s adversaries. More importantly, it marked a belated recognition that a shield is as vital as a sword. During Operation Sindoor, while air power may have delivered the decisive final blow, it was air defence that secured victory. The four-day conflict starkly revealed serious gaps in India’s military machine, alongside the changing character of warfare.
By announcing the Sudarshan Chakra, the Modi government effectively acknowledged that more than a decade has been lost in developing theatre and long-range interception capabilities — integral to the deterrence posture of any nuclear-armed state. The Mission is also the first explicit articulation by India’s political leadership of a national missile defence shield.
Many media reports have described Mission Sudarshan Chakra as India’s “Iron Dome”, drawing parallels to Israel’s multi-layered air and missile defence architecture. Israel’s Iron Dome has been effective against short-range rockets, while its David’s Sling and Arrow systems have recently been in action against Iranian strikes and Houthi missiles. Similarly, US President Donald Trump once announced the “Golden Dome”, envisioning a mix of ground-based interceptors from the GMD system, next-generation interceptors, and a revival of the space-based interceptors first conceived during the 1980s Strategic Defense Initiative — Ronald Reagan’s Star Wars.
From concept to practice
Few officials in the DRDO were willing to spell out the broad contours of Sudarshan Chakra. One official, who asked not to be named, urged me to ignore the nomenclature and focus instead on the underlying concept and plan. He confirmed that the mission involves across-the-board integration of air and missile defence technologies, surveillance and reconnaissance systems, and the full spectrum of command-and-control apparatus.
“The idea is to neutralise all airborne threats — first with soft kills like jamming, and, if that is not possible, then with hard kills through air defence systems,” he explained. He added that existing platforms like Akash, LR/MRSAMs, and quick-reaction SAMs (QRSAMs) will form the lower tier, while interceptors from Project Kusha are expected to provide the pivot — mimicking the range and capabilities of the S-400.
The concept, as articulated by the prime minister, remains vague — filled with numerous ideas, some unrealistic or purely symbolic, and others presented as sweeping, holistic visions without a clear technological roadmap. For example, Modi spoke of protecting “all important places of the nation, including strategic as well as civilian areas like hospitals, railways, centres of faith, and so on”.
As noted earlier in this report, close to 200 vulnerable strategic points requiring air defence were identified back in 2010. That number would have grown substantially over the last decade and a half. For point defence, planners must account not only for counterforce assets (military and strategic facilities), especially in the western and northern regions, but also for countervalue assets. These include major population centres such as metropolitan cities, which demand area defence, as well as commercial and industrial sites spread across the country.
Consider, for instance, the threat from Pakistan Army Chief Field Marshal Asim Munir, who has spoken of striking India’s
eastern assets before moving westward. Reports even suggested he had singled out Reliance Industries, whose massive Jamnagar oil refinery lies within Pakistani striking range. Protecting such sprawling industrial and corporate assets would require colossal investments in a shield that could quickly become impractical and financially untenable. The same problem applies to the railways: India’s railway network is among the largest in the world, and treating every inch of it as strategically vital would make comprehensive defence inconceivable.
Equally striking is the claim about protecting centres of faith. As improbable as it sounds, Modi’s remarks may have been influenced by episodes during Operation Sindoor, when religious sites along the western frontier — including the Golden Temple — were reportedly targeted by Pakistani shelling and drone strikes. In one instance, a senior Army officer allegedly claimed to have placed an air defence system inside the Golden Temple, though this was denied by temple authorities. Even in joint briefings led by the foreign secretary, multiple references were made to religious sites being targeted. While it is realistic to protect select religious institutions along the frontier, the broader promise of shielding every “centre of faith” nationwide risks sounding rhetorical, even jingoistic.
Leaving aside such rhetorical flourishes, it is worth examining the concrete proposals underlying the mission to understand its architecture and feasibility. The prime minister pledged that the system would be ready within 10 years, and that it would continue to expand, strengthen, modernise, and anticipate the future. These goalposts are reasonable, given that work on new-generation and upgraded air and missile defence systems is already underway. With the possible addition of more foreign systems, a “national security shield” on a par with global peers is at least plausible.
Yet major ambiguities remain. Few could explain the strategy of “Plus One” invoked by the prime minister, and none of the officials I spoke with could clearly articulate what he meant by the shield’s ability to “hit back” at the enemy.
These larger uncertainties still cloud the pronouncement of Mission Sudarshan Chakra. To cut through the rhetoric, I attempt below a conceptual interpretation of this “national security shield”. For clarity, I outline it across three paradigms that could help explain its potential nature and operational character.
Homeland defence
The interception of the Fatah-II missile — supposedly en route to the national capital — over Sirsa demonstrates that nodes of India’s integrated air and missile defence network are already active.
Air defence systems of both the Indian Air Force and the Army are deployed across the western, eastern, and Himalayan frontiers. These include the Akash SAM, S-400s, Spyder, and the LR/MRSAM (Barak-8). They continue to operate alongside Soviet-era systems such as the S-125 Pechora, 9K33 Osa-AK, 2K12 Kub/Kvadrat, and possibly even the S-300 — whose presence the armed forces neither confirm nor deny.
This inventory will soon be joined by the QRSAM, the Very Short-Range Air Defence (VSHORAD), and higher-end variants like Akash Prime. The two remaining S-400 systems from the original deal will further bolster this network, while reports suggest India may negotiate additional units from Russia, even as Project Kusha moves ahead. In August, the DRDO tested the QRSAM, the VSHORAD, and a high-power directed-energy weapon as part of what the Press Information Bureau described as the Integrated Air Defence Weapon System (IADWS).
This layered air defence network, combined with missile defence platforms such as AAD and PAD, and the upcoming systems under Project Kusha, will form core elements of India’s nationwide security shield. The PDV-1 and PDV-2 interceptors are also expected to join, providing long-range interception capabilities. DRDO officials point as well to the Netra (including the 300 km-range Mark II), long-endurance drones like Rustom for reconnaissance, and the Akashteer system — which enables automated detection and responses — as vital components of this “national security shield”.
If this constitutes the technological foundation of the Sudarshan Chakra, the next challenge lies in deployment architecture and operational design. The key issues are the location of nodes, range overlaps, and optimal deployment patterns for multi-tiered air defence.
It is a foregone conclusion that medium- and long-range systems will remain concentrated at major bases along the western, eastern, and Himalayan frontiers to counter Pakistani and Chinese incursions. The AAD-PAD combine will be central to this IADWS. But the true complexity lies in determining deployment nodes for Project Kusha platforms and PDVs. It is worth recalling V K Saraswat’s 2007 formula, when he spoke of two missile defence regimes covering over 400 sq. km to protect the NCR. That calculation implied PAD units positioned at Hindon airbase in the north and either Rajokri or Dhansa in the southern periphery. It remains unclear if the AAD provides point defence over South Block, where the National Command Authority sits.
While the combined AAD, PAD, and S-400 envelope — ranging from 150–350 km or more — may suffice for conventional threats, it falls short in a nuclear environment. Given the national capital’s strategic weight, deployment of PDV-1, PDV-2, or the M3 under Project Kusha becomes indispensable to guard against both Pakistani and Chinese nuclear-armed missiles.
The same logic applies to other major metropolitan areas such as Mumbai, Bengaluru, and Kolkata. Equally critical is the Andaman and Nicobar (A&N) Islands, home to India’s first tri-services command and a designated target for Pakistan’s Shaheen-III, as well as for Chinese long-range missiles from its Southern Theater Command. Beyond air defence for the tri-services base, A&N could serve as a launch site for PDV-1 and PDV-2, offering a strategic outpost outside the mainland.
Accordingly, as long-range and exoatmospheric interceptors are placed at key nodes across India, there is also a need for secondary medium- and long-range systems with overlapping coverage, enabling both area and point defence across 400–600 km envelopes. For instance, Mumbai’s air defence would overlap with Ahmedabad’s, just as the NCR’s coverage interlocks with military bases in the north, including Sirsa and Ambala. Similar sub-architectures must be developed — or may already exist — in the eastern and Himalayan sectors to complete the national shield.
Ultimately, beyond overlapping envelopes, the driving principle of this architecture must be the identification of strategic zones — countervalue and counterforce alike — mapping their vulnerabilities, and designing nodes to match.
Denial deterrence
In the summary of the prime minister’s Independence Day speech, the Prime Minister’s Office emphasised an element that did not figure strongly in the full address — deterrence. While the build-up of any advanced military capability carries an inherent deterrent value, nuclear deterrence goes far beyond conventional armaments, discouraging an adversary. It largely operates through two models: deterrence by punishment (retaliation) and deterrence by denial. Most nuclear-armed states rely on the threat of massive retaliation as their core posture. During the Cold War, this equation between the superpowers produced a scenario of mutual assured destruction — a cycle beginning with a decapitating first strike by one side and answered by a massive counterstrike from the other. India’s nuclear doctrine likewise postures a second strike, entailing massive retaliation against a nuclear first strike.
Denial deterrence, by contrast, is about building capabilities that convince an adversary its first strike will be rendered ineffective through interception. In other words, a credible missile defence shield enhances the uncertainty surrounding the success of nuclear first use.
India’s missile defence programme was conceived in the late 1990s, following the alleged transfer of Chinese M-9 and M-11 missiles to Pakistan, which enabled the latter to expand its nuclear delivery capability. Pakistan’s brinkmanship during the Kargil conflict and Operation Parakram also convinced Indian leaders that Pakistan was exploiting India’s no-first-use (NFU) posture, leaving it little room to respond to Pakistan’s sustained low-intensity conflict. The need to call Pakistan’s “nuclear bluff” and deny it any advantage from first use became one of the central drivers of India’s missile defence efforts. Yet India’s programme has never been Pakistan-centric alone; it has aimed at a holistic shield against both Pakistani and Chinese missiles, the latter posing a perennial strategic challenge.
By the previous decade, India’s BMD programme — though still in its infancy — was viewed as part of a two-pronged strategy alongside Cold Start (a proactive plan for integrated battle groups to make conventional thrusts into Pakistani territory and hold ground in response to low-intensity conflict). Together, these aimed to blunt Pakistan’s exploitation of NFU and its nuclear threats. Against China, the missile defence matrix focussed on longer-range midcourse interception platforms, which, when paired with the Agni-V, would provide India greater defensive depth and bolster the credibility of its deterrent.
The effect of this posture was evident in Pakistan’s reaction. Pakistan repeatedly branded India’s missile defence programme and Cold Start doctrine as “destabilising”, fearing they could alter the deterrence balance long assumed to favour Pakistan’s first-use posture. India’s BMD, Pakistan argued, would allow India to preserve NFU while raising the costs of escalation for Pakistan. Pakistani analysts countered that their Nasr tactical nuclear system, along with the Babur land-attack cruise missile (LACM) and Ra’ad air-launched cruise missile (ALCM) — both designed to penetrate missile shields — would provide their own form of denial deterrence. Beyond that, Pakistan acquired the Chinese HQ-9 in October 2021, planned to buy the HQ-15, and experimented with multiple independently targetable re-entry vehicles and drones aimed at defeating India’s S-400 systems.
Yet during the four-day conflict of May 2025, Pakistan’s LACMs and ALCMs were decisively neutralised by Indian air defences, while the Indian armed forces effectively suppressed and destroyed Pakistani air defence systems in Lahore and other bases through suppression of enemy air defence and destruction of enemy air defence operations.
With India’s air defence capability now fully demonstrated, and with a national missile defence shield in the making, the task before the Modi government is to translate hardware into posture — ideally through a revision of nuclear doctrine. While a formal doctrinal revision may face resistance within the national security establishment, there is space to signal a posture of denial deterrence alongside the existing option of massive retaliation, much as India did in the years after Operation Parakram.
As I noted in the first issue of Blueprint, in 2013, the then National Security Advisory Board chairman Shyam Saran made clear that any nuclear use — including against Indian forces on foreign soil — would be treated as a nuclear strike and invite massive retaliation. While few may see the need for such declarations today, it is essential that the Sudarshan Chakra — currently articulated only in vague terms — be defined with clarity and fully integrated into India’s deterrence posture and doctrinal framework.
Offence-defence integration
The most distinct — and yet least discussed — aspect of Modi’s Mission Sudarshan Chakra is his declaration that the “powerful weapon system will not only neutralise the enemy’s attack but will also hit back at the enemy many times more”. This is an astonishing statement, one that invites interpretations ranging from the technical to the fantastical.
At first glance, he may have been alluding to the ASAT test of March 2019, when the PDV-1 was used to destroy a defunct satellite. As I noted earlier, the MEA described that test as a demonstration of defensive capability. Yet if the role of an ASAT system is to destroy hostile objects in orbit, then targeting such a platform — whether it is a directed-energy system or a space-based weapon — would almost certainly be construed as retribution, and even more so if conducted pre-emptively.
The key issue here is definitional. Most nations develop missile defence systems using ballistic missile platforms originally designed for offensive use. In India’s case, the Prithvi platform has been adapted for the PAD, while the Agni has been used for the PDV. China has relied on its Dongfeng platforms for the HQ-19/20 BMD systems. Unless the prime minister envisions a grand architecture that formally combines ballistic and land-attack missiles with air and missile defence systems, his statement amounts to signalling an intent for offence–defence integration, both operationally and doctrinally.
DRDO officials I spoke to seemed uncertain about this dimension and suggested that the national security establishment would need to define what exactly the prime minister meant. One even speculated that he might have been referring to operational formations in which 155 mm artillery, multi-barrel rocket launchers such as Pinaka, and land-attack or air-launched cruise missiles are deployed alongside air defence systems. Many observers believe such integrated configurations could form part of India’s upcoming theatre commands.
Strikingly, this echoes the only other prominent case of recent offence–defence posturing: the BMDR released by the first Trump Administration in 2019. The BMDR highlighted the pursuit of comprehensive missile defence capabilities integrated with offensive forces. It advocated exploiting “every practical opportunity to detect, disrupt, and destroy a threatening missile, before and after its launch, and to maximise the combined missile defence effort”. This concept extended beyond multi-layered defence architecture to envision a seamless collaboration of defensive and offensive operations from the instant a missile threat emerges.
The BMDR sought “integration of active missile defences with intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance and strike capabilities”, collectively termed attack operations. These were conceived in two scenarios: After US BMD systems intercept initial launches against American forces, allies, or partners, offensive forces would strike remaining adversary missiles before additional launches occur. If deterrence fails and conflict begins, “attacking adversary missiles before their launch” would be part of ongoing operations.
If the doctrine avoided the explicit word “pre-emption”, its underlying objective was clear: to combine defence and offence to target adversary missiles both before and after launch. As the then Secretary of Defense Patrick Shanahan put it, “missile defence necessarily includes missile offence”.
Whether Modi envisions a similar operational construct, or merely intended a rhetorical posture — projecting missile defences as part of a broader offensive deterrent — remains unclear. Either way, his words suggest a more holistic deterrence framework: a “net offensive capability” in which defence and offence are fused, producing both retaliatory and denial deterrence.
What is certain, however, is that no one within DRDO or the wider national security establishment I consulted was prepared to hazard a definitive interpretation.
(The author is editor-in-chief, The Polity, and was earlier with the Manohar Parrikar Institute for Defence Studies and Analyses, New Delhi. Views expressed are personal)
 "From Iron Dome to Star Wars, it is now India's turn - Insights")
