The bromance is back on. Benjamin Netanyahu just confirmed that India’s Narendra Modi is touching down in Israel this Wednesday, and if you listen closely, you can already hear the shutters of a thousand professional cameras clicking in unison. It’s a choreographed dance we’ve seen before, but this time the stakes are written in silicon and surveillance code.
Don't expect a dry lecture on diplomatic norms. That’s for the career bureaucrats in the back of the room. When these two get together, it’s about the "Start-up Nation" meeting the "Digital India" machine. It’s a high-speed collision of two nationalist brands that have realized they don't need the West’s approval as long as they have each other’s hardware.
Netanyahu needs this. He’s spent the last year dodging domestic firestorms and navigating a political scene that’s more "Game of Thrones" than "West Wing." A visit from the leader of the world’s most populous nation isn't just a meeting; it's a validation. It’s a way to tell his critics that while they’re arguing about judicial reform, he’s busy securing the future of Israeli exports.
And what are those exports, exactly? It’s not just oranges and tech support. We’re talking about the heavy stuff. India has become the largest buyer of Israeli weapons, accounting for roughly 46% of Israel’s total arms exports. That’s a massive chunk of change. We’re looking at a relationship built on the back of the $2.1 billion Barak-8 surface-to-air missile system and a steady stream of Heron drones.
But there’s a specific kind of friction here that neither leader likes to talk about in public: the "Make in India" problem. Modi wants to build things at home. He wants factories in Gujarat, not just shipments from Haifa. Israel, meanwhile, wants to keep its intellectual property behind its own high-security fences. It’s a classic trade-off. India wants the blueprints; Israel just wants to send the invoice.
Then there’s the elephant in the room that usually carries a "top secret" sticker. Pegasus. The NSO Group’s infamous spyware has been the ghost at the feast for years now. While the Indian government has been characteristically vague about its use of the software to keep tabs on journalists and activists, the tech world knows the score. Israel sells the tools for digital "stability," and India is a very hungry customer. It’s a symbiotic loop. One side perfects the surveillance tech in the pressure cooker of the Middle East, and the other deploys it at a scale that makes Western privacy advocates weep into their lattes.
You won’t see "Pegasus" on the official itinerary, of course. You’ll see "innovation hubs" and "water security initiatives." They’ll talk about desalination and semiconductors. They’ll visit a beach and take a photo looking like two retired uncles on a weekend getaway. It’s a great look for the cameras. It’s a terrible look if you care about the decentralization of power or the idea that the internet should be a tool for something other than state control.
The price tag for this friendship is steep. Beyond the billions in defense contracts, there’s a geopolitical cost. India is trying to play a delicate game, balancing its ties with Israel against its historical relationships in the Middle East and its growing hunger for Iranian oil. But Modi seems to have decided that Israeli tech is worth the tightrope walk. Whether it’s Phalcon radar systems or high-end encryption, Jerusalem has the toys that New Delhi wants.
Wednesday’s visit will be full of the usual rhetoric about shared values and ancient civilizations. It’ll be slick. It’ll be polished. It’ll be everything a modern political PR machine can produce. But behind the handshakes and the talk of "tech synergy," there’s a much simpler reality at play.
One man has the tech. The other has the market. Both have a very specific vision for how to use data to keep a lid on dissent. It’s not a new story, but it’s being written with better code every year.
Does anyone really believe this is about "cooperation," or is it just a global beta test for a more efficient brand of digital authoritarianism?
