The red carpet doesn’t lie, even if the press releases do.

Emmanuel Macron is back in India, playing the role of the guest of honor for Republic Day while the rest of the West watches with a mix of envy and irritation. It’s the diplomatic equivalent of a high-stakes Tinder date where both parties know exactly what they’re getting out of the deal. Modi gets a European heavyweight who doesn't nag him about domestic policy; Macron gets a massive market for French fighter jets and a way to pretend France is still a top-tier Pacific power.

They call it "strategic autonomy." It’s a fancy term for "we don’t want to do what Washington tells us." For Modi, it’s about making sure India isn't just a backup dancer for the U.S. in Asia. For Macron, it’s about keeping the French defense industry on life support with Indian cash.

Don't look for flowery rhetoric about shared democratic values. This isn’t about that. This is about hardware.

Take the Rafale-M deal. We’re talking about 26 carrier-borne fighter jets. The price tag is hovering somewhere north of $6 billion, depending on which defense analyst you trust this week. India wants the tech, but they want it built in India. France wants the money, but they want to keep the intellectual property locked in a vault in Saint-Cloud. It’s a dance they’ve been doing for years. Every time they meet, they announce a "roadmap." It’s a lot of maps for two people who still haven’t reached the destination.

Then there’s the Jaitapur nuclear power project. It’s been stuck in the mud for over a decade. Six EPR reactors that could, in theory, power a small country. But the friction is real. Between the liability laws that make French engineers lose sleep and the pricing disputes that make Indian bureaucrats dig in their heels, the site remains little more than a dream and a pile of legal documents. It’s the ultimate white elephant, dressed up in a "green energy" costume.

The tech side isn't much cleaner. They’re talking about "digital sovereignty" now. They want to build a "sovereign AI" ecosystem that doesn't rely on Silicon Valley. It’s a nice sentiment. But while they’re busy signing memorandums of understanding, Nvidia is still the only game in town, and OpenAI is still setting the rules. You can't just decree a tech revolution into existence because you’ve shared a photo op in front of the Hawa Mahal.

And yet, you can’t ignore the momentum. Airbus is teaming up with Tata to build C-295 transport aircraft in Gujarat. That’s a real factory with real people making real things. It’s a slap in the face to the old way of doing business where India just cut a check and waited for a delivery. Now, they’re forcing the French to move their assembly lines. It’s messy, it’s expensive, and it’s exactly what Modi needs to keep his "Make in India" slogan from becoming a punchline.

Space is the other playground. They’re talking about joint satellite launches and maritime domain awareness. Basically, they want to keep an eye on Chinese ships in the Indian Ocean without having to ask the Pentagon for the GPS coordinates. It makes sense. If you’re going to be a global player, you need your own eyes in the sky.

But let’s be clear about the trade-off. By leaning so hard into France, India is betting that Paris can actually deliver on its promises of "no-strings-attached" tech transfers. France, meanwhile, is betting that India won’t eventually decide that the U.S. or a resurgent domestic industry is a better bet. It’s a marriage of convenience where both spouses are constantly checking their phones to see if they have better options.

Macron’s visit wasn't just about the parade or the camels or the tea in Jaipur. It was a signal. France is the "resident power" in the Indo-Pacific, or so they keep telling anyone who will listen. India is the "leading power" of the Global South. Together, they’re trying to build a world where they don’t have to choose between a crumbling rules-based order and a chaotic new one.

It’s a gritty, transactional, and deeply cynical partnership. It’s also probably the most honest relationship in modern geopolitics. No one is pretending they’re doing this out of the goodness of their hearts.

The jets will eventually fly, the satellites will eventually launch, and the nuclear plant will probably stay a set of blueprints for another five years. In the meantime, the champagne will be poured, the selfies will be posted, and the "strategic" buzzwords will continue to pile up.

How long can you maintain a "special relationship" when the only thing truly holding it together is a shared suspicion of everyone else?