India finally stopped improvising.
For decades, New Delhi’s approach to security was a masterclass in "strategic restraint," a phrase that mostly served as a polite cover for taking it on the chin and waiting for the international community to send a sternly worded letter. That era is dead. It’s been buried under a new document titled "Prahaar"—a word that translates to "strike" but carries the heavy, thudding weight of a sledgehammer.
This isn’t just a policy update. It’s a public admission that the old rules didn't work. For the first time, India has codified its counter-terrorism doctrine, moving away from reactive scrambling toward something more deliberate, tech-heavy, and aggressive. The core of the thing is a "proportionate reply." It sounds clinical. It sounds like something a lawyer would say before they ruin your life. But in the context of the Line of Control or the dense jungles where insurgencies simmer, "proportionate" is a Rorschach test.
If a drone crosses the border to drop a payload, does a proportionate reply mean a return flight? Or does it mean the electronic annihilation of the command center that launched it?
The policy is lean on fluff and heavy on the mechanics of modern warfare. It’s not just about boots on the ground anymore. We’re looking at a massive integration of SIGINT (signals intelligence) and biometric tracking. The government is leaning hard into the idea that you can’t hide from a state that owns the data. This shift comes with a staggering price tag. India is currently finalizing a $3 billion deal for 31 MQ-9B SkyGuardian and SeaGuardian drones from General Atomics. That’s a lot of money to spend on "proportionate" responses, especially when the tech is designed for the kind of persistent surveillance that makes privacy a legacy feature of the 20th century.
The friction here isn't just about the hardware. It’s the messiness of the implementation. "Prahaar" leans on the concept of "grey-zone" warfare—the space where things aren’t quite a war but definitely aren’t peace. It involves cyber-offensive capabilities and deep-learning algorithms meant to sniff out radicalization before it turns into a headline. But we’ve seen this movie before. In a country where internet shutdowns are a routine tool of governance and the NATGRID (National Intelligence Grid) aims to link everything from your tax records to your travel history, this new policy looks less like a shield and more like an all-seeing eye.
There’s also the diplomatic headache. By putting "proportionate reply" in writing, India is signaling to its neighbors—specifically Pakistan and China—that the days of "wait and see" are over. It’s a deterrent, sure. But it’s also a commitment. Once you tell your population that you have a formal policy for hitting back, you lose the luxury of doing nothing. You’re locked into an escalatory ladder where the first step is always a heavy boot.
The document mentions "coordinated action," which is bureaucratic shorthand for breaking down the walls between the military, the police, and the intelligence agencies. It sounds efficient on paper. In reality, it’s a logistical nightmare of competing egos and outdated software. Trying to get the various branches of Indian security to share data is like trying to get different versions of Windows to talk to each other without a crash. They’re buying the Ferraris of surveillance tech while the roads they’re driving on are still being paved with red tape.
The cynicism comes easy because the stakes are so high. We aren't talking about a sandbox. We’re talking about a nuclear-armed state formalizing how it hunts and kills its enemies. The policy is a reflection of a global trend: the sanitization of violence through tech and the legalizing of the "pre-emptive strike." It’s clean, it’s documented, and it’s been approved by a committee.
So, India has its playbook. The hardware is on the way. The doctrine is signed and sealed. The only thing missing is a clear definition of when the "proportionate" response stops and the next war begins.
If every strike is met with a "proportionate" reply, how long until the math adds up to something nobody can control?
