The optics were predictable. Another high-stakes phone call, another press release scrubbed of any actual human emotion, and another round of "strategic partnership" buzzwords. Narendra Modi and Benjamin Netanyahu are back at it, whispering sweet nothings about bilateral ties while the world outside their offices burns in very different, yet oddly similar, ways.
They’re calling it a discussion on a "range of issues." That’s diplomatic shorthand for everything from semiconductor fabs to drone tech. It’s the geopolitical version of a corporate board meeting where the two CEOs know the stock price is shaky, so they announce a merger to distract the shareholders.
The subtext isn't hard to find. India wants to be the world’s back office and its factory floor. Israel wants to remain the world’s high-tech armory and its primary R&D lab. It’s a match made in venture capital heaven, assuming you don't mind the mounting body counts or the erosion of civil liberties.
Let’s talk about the friction, though. You don't get this kind of "synergy" without some grease. For India, the price tag often comes in the form of massive defense contracts and the quiet adoption of Israeli surveillance tech. Remember Pegasus? That little piece of NSO Group spyware that turned up on the phones of Indian journalists and opposition leaders? It’s the elephant in the server room. Neither leader wants to talk about it, but it’s the ghost that haunts every handshake. It’s the software glue holding this particular brand of authoritarian-leaning democracy together.
Then there’s the Haifa Port. Gautam Adani, Modi’s favorite billionaire, dropped $1.2 billion to acquire the Israeli gateway last year. It was supposed to be the crown jewel of the "India-Middle East-Europe Economic Corridor" (IMEC). It was a grand plan to bypass China’s Belt and Road Initiative. Then October 7th happened. Now, that corridor looks less like a supply chain and more like a pipe dream buried under a mountain of geopolitical rubble.
Bibi is desperate. He’s a man looking for friends in a room where the exits are rapidly being locked. India is one of the few places where the "Start-up Nation" branding still carries weight, untainted by the massive protests rocking Tel Aviv or the crushing weight of the Gaza offensive. For Modi, Netanyahu is a kindred spirit—a tech-obsessed nationalist who understands that if you control the digital infrastructure, you control the narrative.
They talked about "innovation." Sure. But in this context, innovation usually means finding new ways to integrate AI into border security or streamlining the export of Tejas fighter jet components. It’s about the "China Plus One" strategy. India wants the world to stop relying on Beijing for chips and circuits. Israel has the blueprints; India has the labor and the land.
But there's a trade-off. By doubling down on this relationship, India is betting that the current Israeli administration will survive its own domestic chaos. It’s a risky play. If the Netanyahu government collapses under the weight of its own scandals and the escalating conflict, those "bilateral relations" might suddenly look like a liability.
India’s Ministry of External Affairs put out a statement that was as dry as a week-old chapati. It mentioned "strengthening cooperation in various sectors." It didn't mention the thousands of Indian workers being shipped off to replace Palestinian laborers in Israel’s construction sector—a move that’s been criticized as putting citizens directly into a war zone for the sake of a GDP boost.
It’s all very "Silicon Valley." Move fast and break things. Except when you’re a head of state, the things you break are usually international norms and the lives of people who don't have a seat at the table.
They’ll keep talking. They’ll keep signing Memorandums of Understanding that sound like they were written by a McKinsey consultant on Adderall. They’ll keep pretending that "tech cooperation" is just about apps and irrigation, and not about the sophisticated machinery of state control.
The question isn't whether the relationship will grow. It will. The question is how much of the democratic soul both countries are willing to trade for a slightly faster supply chain and a better class of spyware.
How many $1.2 billion ports does it take to buy a clean conscience?
