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The global defense industry appears to be entering a period of structural transformation, driven by rising military spending, technological change, and increasing private-capital involvement.
The “Aerospace & Defense M&A Report 2026: Deal Activity, Market Trends and Outlook,” published by Ropes & Gray LLP on October 7, 2026, says that Aerospace and Defense Mergers and Acquisitions (M&A), Private Equity (PE), and Venture Capital (VC) funding are likely to expand further, showing that 2026 is on track to be one of “the strongest deal-making years” on record.
The report highlights that Defense Tech/Services is the fastest-growing segment at a 22% Compound Annual Growth Rate (CAGR), followed by Aerospace at 16% CAGR; Aircraft Manufacturers, Parts & Components at 14% CAGR; and Air, Land, & Sea Defense at 9% CAGR.
The report argues that the growth is not simply a temporary response to international conflicts. Governments are rebuilding industrial capacity, replenishing weapons inventories, strengthening supply chains, and accelerating the development of advanced military technologies.
In the United States, the largest market, proposed increases in defense resources, procurement reforms, longer-term contracts, and financial support for defense technology companies aim to attract private capital and expand manufacturing capacity.
In Europe, the EU’s Security Action for Europe initiative aims to mobilize about €800 billion in defense-related investment through national fiscal flexibility, loans, and related financing support.
Germany’s increased spending and procurement reforms can accelerate equipment acquisition and industrial expansion. Collectively, these policies are reshaping the geography of defense investment in Europe.
In fact, the report says that Europe has emerged as a major driver of new activity. “Europe has become a primary engine of deal flow, not a secondary market. Rising national budgets and new EU-wide financing mechanisms are reshaping where capital is being deployed as well as dictating deployment speed”, it says. NATO’s higher spending ambitions, European rearmament and new financing arrangements are encouraging companies to expand, consolidate and acquire specialist capabilities.
Meanwhile, the Indo-Pacific is undergoing a rapid, structural alignment driven by what regional planners call a “contested era.”
China is consolidating its domestic defense industry, though restrictions on cross-border investment limit Western investors’ access. Japan is rapidly reshaping its defense posture and adapting to an environment where the traditional binary definitions of “peacetime” and “wartime” have effectively blurred.
In this era of continuous competition, the report says Japan has elevated allied burden-sharing to its foundational organizing principle.
This shift is most visible in the digital domain. With the operationalization of Japan’s Active Cyber Defense Oversight Commission, Tokyo has adopted a proactive cyber defense strategy. By implementing legal public-private threat reporting and neutralized-access protocols, Japan is signaling a willingness to legally counter and neutralize state-sponsored infrastructure targeting before cyber assaults can cripple critical domestic networks.
One of the report’s most important observations is that defense investment is increasingly a private-equity story. Private-equity firms are acquiring established manufacturers, selling businesses to strategic buyers and building larger companies through additional acquisitions. Venture capital is also financing newer businesses developing military technologies.
Among the ten largest transactions listed for 2026 up to September 30 was GE Aerospace’s $11.8 billion acquisition of Consolidated Precision Products. Other major deals involved aerospace leasing, maritime defense, aircraft components, and specialist detection technologies.
Dubai Aerospace Enterprise bought Macquarie Airfinance for $9.0 billion in what was a leasing consolidation. In a move that signals European rearmament, land-defense scaling, and main-battle tank production, KfW Group (German State Bank) is backing KNDS [Franco-German tank maker Krauss-Maffei Wegmann + Nexter] with $7.8 billion.
In other words, private investors are no longer confined to peripheral suppliers. They are becoming key participants in the industrial ecosystem that supports national defense.
Significantly, the traditional reliance on a handful of legacy prime contractors is giving way to an ecosystem heavily backed by private equity and venture capital.
The private sector is now driving global defense deal-making as it pivots toward software-defined defense, autonomy, and next-generation platforms.
The report shows how defense technology is changing the industry’s center of gravity. Although aerospace and defense remains one of the most active and strategically complex sectors for private capital deployment, software-defined defense, autonomy, and next-generation platforms are pulling ahead as the fastest-growing corner of the market.
Investors are particularly interested in artificial intelligence and software-defined defense systems; autonomous platforms, including unmanned aircraft and maritime systems; counter-drone and missile-defense capabilities; space infrastructure and surveillance; and specialist electronics, communications, and mission-critical components.
However, while these technologies can drive rapid growth, they also carry risks due to restrictive policies in the US and Europe. The report notes that regulatory compliance is becoming a structural hurdle rather than an afterthought.
In the United States, the largest market by transaction value, more national security vetting—including CFIUS (Committee on Foreign Investment in the United States) and FOCI (Foreign Ownership, Control, or Influence) mitigation—is becoming foundational to ensuring a clean exit.
In other words, the global defense landscape seems to be marked by a distinct paradox.
On the one hand, geopolitical threat vectors are accelerating at breakneck speed. On the other hand, the financial and regulatory machinery needed to field next-generation capabilities faces structural friction.
As a result, companies may depend heavily on a single government customer, handle classified information, or face restrictions on intellectual property developed under government contracts. Cybersecurity compliance and access to sensitive facilities can also complicate acquisitions.
In the United States, the CFIUS can scrutinize foreign investment for national-security risks. FOCI can also affect access to classified work and sensitive facilities.
Similarly, European foreign-investment screening is marked with many complexities. Even businesses that are not conventional arms manufacturers may face scrutiny if they supply strategically important electronics, software, communications or other dual-use technologies.

Commercial risks matter too. Fixed-price government contracts can leave manufacturers exposed when costs rise unexpectedly. Buyers must therefore examine contract liabilities, working capital, supply-chain resilience, workforce retention and the restrictions that could affect a future sale, the report advises.
The report’s overall conclusion, therefore, is that while defense investment opportunities are expanding, success increasingly depends on technological relevance, reliable industrial execution, regulatory compliance and the ability to navigate national-security restrictions throughout the ownership cycle.
What lessons could India draw from the trends above?
For India, the report is particularly relevant because it highlights a shift in how advanced military capabilities are developed and financed. The implications extend beyond aircraft, missiles, and ships to defense electronics, artificial intelligence, autonomous systems, space technology, supply chains, and foreign investment.
India’s first opportunity is to integrate more deeply into international aerospace and defense supply chains. As Western manufacturers expand production and diversify their suppliers, Indian companies could become more important producers of precision components, avionics, electronics, aerospace structures, and maintenance services.
The most instructive lesson may come from GE Aerospace’s September 8, 2026 acquisition of Consolidated Precision Products (CPP). Experts say that it was a paradigm shift in aerospace and heavy industrial manufacturing. For decades, aerospace primes aggressively outsourced manufacturing to optimize their balance sheets, shifting capital-expenditure risks onto multi-tiered supply chains.
But years of systemic, compounding engine delays—magnified by the Pratt & Whitney GTF powder metal crisis and Boeing’s structural manufacturing gridlock — exposed a fatal flaw: primes (like GE) outsourced execution, but they could never outsource the risk.
Therefore, GE Aerospace decided to buy the absolute bottleneck of jet engine production: structural castings and complex airfoils. Its deal with private equity firms Warburg Pincus and Berkshire Partners is meant to address persistent, industry-wide shortages of critical engine parts and airfoils. In other words, GE bought the supply chain to control the delivery.
For India, this implies that beyond focusing on “Make in India” as screwdriver assembly, it should also consider “Own the Supply Chain.”
Second, as defense technology gains primacy, expanding AI-enabled systems, autonomous platforms, counter-drone technology, advanced sensors, and space infrastructure could be more relevant for India than producing isolated components.
Some experts argue that because European primes are cash-rich and seeking low-cost engineering, they would prefer a JV with India to meet capacity needs.
Lastly, as the Ropes & Gray LLP report illustrates, private equity and venture capital can help consolidate fragmented industries, finance expansion, and support specialized technology businesses. India could adapt this approach to build stronger domestic defense suppliers.
The post Europe Is Rearming — and U.S. Wall Street is Writing the Checks, Including GE’s Nearly $12 Billion Deal appeared first on EURASIAN TIMES.

Professor Roger Watson reviews The Trials of Maurice Brophy, the new novel by Marcus Bland about a Cambridge academic whose life spirals after he finds himself summarily cancelled over his research on Wagner.
The post An Ode to Cancel Culture appeared first on The Daily Sceptic.
The United States is one of the few developed Western democracies that still carries out the death penalty, with dozens of executions every year.
However, even by American standards, the execution planned for December is unusually severe.
Secretary of War Pete Hegseth has said that Major Nidal Malik Hasan, sentenced to death in 2013 by a general court-martial under the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ), will be executed by firing squad at Fort Hood, Texas, and that the execution will be public.
The Pentagon has since said it will livestream the execution.
It was here in Fort Hood, Texas, that Major Hasan opened fire inside a crowded medical readiness center at Fort Hood, killing 13 people and injuring 32 others in 2009.
Before opening fire on unarmed soldiers, Hasan shouted “Allahu Akbar.” He also shot at the backs of soldiers fleeing toward the parking lot.
Hasan later said it was an effort to stop them from going to Afghanistan and killing his fellow Muslims.
This will mark the first U.S. military execution in over 60 years, the first military execution by firing squad since World War II, and the world’s first-ever officially livestreamed execution.

The last time the U.S. military carried out an execution was in 1961, when Army Pvt. John Bennett was executed by hanging.
The last time the U.S. military carried out a death sentence by firing squad was in 1945.
The best-known case is Private Eddie Slovik, shot by a 12-man firing squad in France in January 1945 for desertion, the only U.S. soldier executed for desertion during the Second World War and since the Civil War.
Nearly 10 months later, Dan J. Lee was executed by the U.S. military’s firing squad in the Philippines in November 1945 for murder and/or rape.
Hasan, therefore, could become the first U.S. servicemember to be executed by a firing squad in over eight decades.
His execution could also become the world’s first officially live-streamed death penalty.
Public executions were common in the medieval period.
In “Discipline and Punish,” French philosopher Michel Foucault writes that the death penalty was a “spectacle.”
“Public torture and execution of criminals provided one of the most popular spectacles of eighteenth-century France,” Foucault wrote in his book.
However, gradually, most countries outlawed public executions.
The UK abolished public executions in 1868 with the passing of the Capital Punishment Amendment Act 1868, which moved all executions behind prison walls.
France followed suit in 1939. In the U.S., the last public execution was carried out in 1936.
Amnesty International said in its report on executions in 2025 that it knew of at least 17 public executions – 11 in Iran and 6 in Afghanistan.
The U.S., therefore, joins a handful of countries like Iran and Afghanistan where public executions are still carried out.
Notably, the U.S. is currently at war with Iran and fought a 20-year-long war with Afghanistan from 2001 to 2021.
The question, then, is what precisely Washington hopes to achieve by joining the league of its adversaries?
It is noteworthy that the general court-martial under the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ) only awarded the death sentence to Hasan in 2013.
Military appeals later affirmed that sentence. The Supreme Court declined review in 2025.
In October 2026, Defense Secretary Hegseth recommended death by firing squad, and President Trump approved the recommendation.
Hegseth later said that the execution will be public, with the Pentagon clarifying that it will be live-streamed.
Hegseth explained part of the reason himself.
“Execution by firing squad. Army major betrays his country. Radical Islamist kills a bunch of Americans at Fort Hood. Of course, we’re going to do it at Fort Hood and do it on a Thursday. We’re going to do it at 1 o’clock, which is when he did it, and it’s going to be soldiers with rifles executing the firing squad,” Hegseth said in an interview with Jack Posobiec on Real America’s Voice.
“It was a radical Islamist attack in uniform inside the ranks, and so he’s going to get a firing squad of soldiers, as it should be. And we’ll make sure that people can watch it, that it’s public, because people need to understand that there are serious consequences for these types of things.”
“Army firing squad for convicted terrorist Nidal Malik Hasan, the jihadist who opened fire on unarmed American soldiers at Fort Hood in 2009. He killed 13 people and wounded 32 others while shouting ‘Allahu Akbar’ during the attack,” Chief Pentagon spokesman Sean Parnell said.
The remarks make it clear that the Pentagon wants to send a strong message against internal threats and reassert the Uniform Code of Military Justice’s (UCMJ) ultimate authority.
It is notable that while, in theory, the UCMJ has the power to award the death penalty for criminal behavior in the armed forces, in practice, the awarding of the death penalty by the UCMJ, and its actual implementation, has had a chequered history.
UCMJ is the federal criminal code and procedural system that governs the U.S. armed forces.
The UCMJ was enacted in 1950 and took effect in 1951.
The code creates one uniform system of military justice for all branches. Its rules apply to active-duty members of the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine Corps, Coast Guard, and Space Force; certain reservists on duty; and others such as prisoners of war or retired members.

Its stated objective is to promote justice, maintain good order and discipline, support efficiency and effectiveness in the armed forces, and thereby strengthen national security. It balances the military’s need for discipline and readiness with procedural protections for the accused.
It contains punitive articles that define both uniquely military offenses, such as desertion, absence without leave, insubordination, and disrespect, and ordinary crimes, like murder, larceny, and sexual offenses.
The general courts-martial under the UCMJ have the authority to impose the death penalty.
From its founding in 1951 till 1961, the U.S. Army carried out 10 executions awarded by the UCMJ, all by hanging.
The last military execution in the U.S. was carried out in 1961, after President Eisenhower approved it.
However, in 1972, the U.S. Supreme Court, in a landmark judgment in the Furman v. Georgia case, effectively placed a temporary moratorium on the death penalty across the United States.
In 1984, President Ronald Reagan signed an order that set detailed rules for military death-penalty trials.
It established that the court-martial could not sentence someone to death just because the crime was serious. The prosecutors must also establish one more “aggravating” factor, such as the killing of more than one person, or killing someone during robbery.
Furthermore, the panel could impose the death sentence only if all members agreed on guilt and the sentence. Under these rules, the UCMJ authorized capital punishment again.
From 1984 till mid-2000s, the military sought the death sentence against the accused in 47 cases.
The panel, however, awarded the death penalty in only 15 out of those 47 cases. Even in these 15 cases, many were later reduced to life imprisonment on appeal or commuted.
For instance, former President Barack Obama commuted Dwight Loving’s 1989 sentence to life in 2017.
Currently, four men remain under a UCMJ death sentence: Ronald Gray (1988), Hasan Akbar (2005), Timothy Hennis (2010), and Nidal Hasan (2013).
Notably, former President George Bush approved Gray’s death sentence in 2008, becoming the first U.S. President since Eisenhower, after a gap of 47 years, to approve a death sentence awarded by the UCMJ.
However, a federal judge stayed that execution so Gray could challenge the sentence in court. His execution has still not been carried out.
Now Trump has become only the second President to approve the death sentence awarded by the UCMJ in 65 years.
Hasan’s death sentence is set for December 3.
Notably, President Trump has not only approved Hasan’s death sentence, but also approved his execution by a firing squad and its live-streaming.
Hasan’s execution, therefore, could mark the return of military executions in the U.S. after over six decades.
The post Fort Hood Live Execution: How Nidal Hasan’s Livestreamed Firing Squad Could Strengthen UCMJ’s Authority appeared first on EURASIAN TIMES.
American philosopher Susan Neiman's new book Call it Evil: Understanding the Trump Era has no shame as it brands Trump wicked for liking free-market capitalism while ruing the end of communism in Europe, says Chris Milton.
The post Susan Neiman’s Deranged Anti-Trump Screed Only Shows She Has No Idea What “Evil” Is appeared first on The Daily Sceptic.
The Conservative Party Conference was slick and professional, says Ellie Hodges, but Reform's conference, while more chaotic, had the kind of passion that you don't get from a fancy lanyard.
The post You Can’t Put Passion on a Fancy Lanyard appeared first on The Daily Sceptic.
OPED by Rear Admiral Girish Kumar Garg, VSM (Retd)
The difficulty in ending the Iran war is not identifying the ingredients of peace. The nuclear issue, missiles, sanctions, regional armed groups, freedom of navigation, and Israel’s security concerns are all well known. The harder question is: how adversaries who deeply distrust each other can take the first step without believing that they are making themselves more vulnerable.
Military action can change the battlefield, but it cannot by itself create a durable political settlement. The longer the conflict continues, the greater the danger that military calculations become disconnected from the strategic objective.
The answer may not lie in one grand bargain, but in a sequence of reciprocal bargains, each limited in scope, independently verifiable and linked to the next. The objective should not be to create trust between Iran, Israel and the United States. That is unrealistic in the foreseeable future.
The objective should be to create a system that can function despite the absence of trust.
The broad issues are already clear. Iran wants recognition of its sovereignty, sanctions relief, and protection from military attack.
Israel wants assurance that Iran cannot acquire a nuclear weapon and that Iranian-supported groups cannot threaten its population. The United States wants to prevent nuclear proliferation, protect regional stability and avoid another open-ended war.
These objectives are not necessarily irreconcilable. The difficulty lies in sequencing them.
Iran fears that surrendering strategic capabilities before receiving meaningful concessions will leave it exposed. Israel fears that sanctions relief before Iranian capabilities are constrained will simply give Tehran resources to rebuild. Washington fears that concessions without Iranian compliance could be interpreted as weakness.
This is the classic security dilemma: each side sees its own actions as defensive while viewing the other’s actions as a threat that must be countered.
A successful peace process must therefore address not only what is negotiated, but how concessions are exchanged.
The first step could be a time-bound Strategic Pause, perhaps lasting 30 days. During this period, the parties would freeze specified offensive operations, avoid attacks on civilian infrastructure and commercial shipping, and suspend actions that materially escalate the confrontation.
Compliance would need independent monitoring. More importantly, neither side should have to make a leap of faith. Each concession should trigger a corresponding concession by the other side.
A verified Iranian reduction in a specified category of nuclear activity could trigger suspension of particular sanctions. A verified reduction in attacks by regional armed groups could trigger defined relaxation of maritime or economic pressure. A verified violation would automatically suspend the corresponding benefit.
The settlement would therefore be built incrementally, with each step creating the conditions for the next.
No settlement can succeed if it ignores Israel’s fundamental security concerns. From Israel’s perspective, Iran’s nuclear program is only one part of the threat. Iranian support for Hezbollah, Hamas and the Houthis has created a network of armed actors capable of imposing military pressure on Israel and disrupting regional security.
The practical approach would be to negotiate capabilities and behavior rather than political allegiance.
Iran could progressively restrict the transfer of specified advanced weapons, particularly long-range missiles, precision-strike systems and sophisticated drones, and commit to preventing attacks that deliberately target civilians or expand the conflict beyond agreed limits. In return, Iran would receive progressively stronger security assurances against direct attack.
The exchange is straightforward in principle: Iran reduces the forward military pressure it generates through its regional partners, while its security becomes less dependent on maintaining that forward deterrence.
For Israel, the benefit would be reduced military pressure on its territory. For Iran, the benefit would be a reduced perceived need to maintain an extensive regional deterrence architecture.
These three groups should not be treated as one problem.
For Hezbollah, the central issue is Lebanon’s sovereignty and the presence of a heavily armed non-state actor on Israel’s northern frontier. A settlement should strengthen the Lebanese state’s authority and provide for a phased reduction or relocation of heavy weapons from sensitive areas. The immediate objective need not be the disappearance of Hezbollah as a political organization, but preventing any non-state actor from initiating a major interstate conflict without the Lebanese state’s consent.
Hamas presents a different challenge because it is inseparable from the unresolved Palestinian question. Requiring Hamas simply to disappear is unlikely to be realistic. A more viable pathway would involve Hamas relinquishing governance in Gaza, progressively reducing heavy weapons and transferring administration and security responsibilities to a legitimate Palestinian structure supported by the international community.
That process would need reconstruction and a credible political horizon for Palestinians. Otherwise, disarmament could simply create a vacuum for another armed movement.
The Houthis should be addressed through a separate Red Sea security arrangement. Iran could restrict the transfer of specified missile, drone, and maritime-strike capabilities, while a Yemeni political process provides the Houthis with a legitimate political future.
The objective would be to separate Yemen’s internal conflict from the wider Iran-Israel confrontation and restore freedom of commercial navigation.

Sanctions relief should also be redesigned. Iran is unlikely to make major concessions today in exchange for benefits that may arrive years later.
A Peace Escrow Mechanism could address this problem. Sanctions would be suspended in stages rather than simply lifted. Oil revenues, access to frozen funds, and selected financial channels could be released automatically when independent monitors verify specified Iranian actions.
The same principle would operate in reverse. If commitments are violated, the corresponding benefits would automatically pause.
Iran would therefore not have to trust that sanctions relief will eventually materialize; the economic benefit would be directly linked to verified compliance. At the same time, the United States and its partners would retain leverage until Iran demonstrated its commitments.
Sanctions would cease to be merely punishment or bargaining leverage and become an instrument for implementing the settlement.
The Strait of Hormuz offers an immediate opportunity for confidence-building because its security affects the entire international community.
Iran could provide a verifiable commitment to the safe passage of commercial shipping, while the United States and its partners could suspend specified maritime pressure measures during the Strategic Pause. An independent mechanism could investigate incidents and determine responsibility.
If commercial vessels can move safely while military forces exercise restraint, it would demonstrate that reciprocal commitments can work even when the parties remain deeply hostile.
That lesson could then be applied to the nuclear program, missiles and regional armed groups.
The central mistake would be to expect trust to precede the agreement. Trust is more likely to result from repeated compliance.
The settlement should therefore rest on four principles: reciprocity, verification, gradualism and automaticity. Every concession should have a corresponding benefit; important commitments should be independently verifiable; major concessions should be broken into manageable stages; and agreed rewards or penalties should operate automatically rather than depend on renewed political bargaining.
This approach also gives each government a politically defensible narrative. Iran can present the process as an exchange of specific military concessions for tangible economic and security benefits rather than capitulation. Israel can demonstrate that its security concerns are being addressed through enforceable restrictions rather than political assurances. The United States can retain leverage while reducing the risk of another prolonged regional war.

Most importantly, the framework recognizes a basic reality of international politics: peace does not always begin with trust. Sometimes it begins with managing distrust.
The parties do not have to agree on history, ideology or regional ambitions. They need only agree that certain actions are too dangerous to continue and that restraint can produce tangible benefits.
A durable peace is therefore unlikely to emerge from one dramatic handshake or a single comprehensive treaty. It is more likely to emerge from a chain of smaller agreements in which each side discovers, step by step, that restraint produces greater security than escalation.
The real diplomatic breakthrough would not be an agreement that ends all disagreements. It would be an agreement that makes continued disagreement less dangerous, more predictable and progressively less dependent on the use of force.
The ultimate test of diplomacy will not be whether Iran, Israel and the United States learn to trust one another. It will be whether they can construct a system in which they do not need to trust one another to stop fighting.
The post Hezbollah, Hamas & Houthis Cannot Be Disarmed With a Single Deal: U.S. & Israel Need New Mechanism: OPED appeared first on EURASIAN TIMES.
After hesitating for weeks amid a deteriorating security situation in the Red Sea, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, and Türkiye (Turkey) have finally agreed to activate “deterrence measures” under the mutual security agreement, the Makkah (Mecca) Pact.’
Under the agreement, Pakistan and Türkiye have agreed to “rapidly deploy forces” in Saudi Arabia to counter the attacks by Yemen’s Houthi rebels.
This is the first time that the ‘Mecca Pact,’ signed in August, has been invoked.
“The committee agreed to activate collective deterrence measures, within the framework of the Alliance, in response to the attacks and all those responsible for them,” Khalid bin Salman, Saudi Arabia’s defense minister, said.
The ‘Mecca Pact’ has a mutual defense clause, similar to NATO’s Article 5, that an armed attack against one country would be considered an attack on all three.
Under the agreement, Ankara could deploy its soldiers in the southern Arabian peninsula for the first time in over a century.
The last time Turkish soldiers served in Yemen was in 1919 under Ottoman rule. After the Ottomans’ defeat in the First World War, Ankara agreed to surrender garrisons outside Anatolia under the Armistice of Mudros.
After the Armistice, signed between the Ottomans and Allied nations in 1918, Ottoman garrisons in Yemen surrendered to the British forces one by one.
Therefore, activating the Mecca Pact could see Turkish forces return to the southern Arabian Peninsula after more than a century.
In fact, while the Mecca Pact was signed only in 2026, Turkey has been waiting for an opportunity to return to Yemen for over a decade.

In 2015, when Saudi Arabia intervened militarily in Yemen against the Houthi rebels for the first time, President Recep Tayyip Erdogan said that “Depending on the course of events, we may consider providing logistical support.”
However, Ankara should not celebrate too soon, as history holds a sobering lesson for the Turks.
The mighty Ottoman Empire once ruled across the three continents of Asia, Africa, and Europe; controlled three of Islam’s holiest sites, including Mecca, Medina, and Jerusalem; and controlled a huge territory in the European lands of the Balkans and southern Europe.
Ottomans, however, could never fully subjugate the Zaidi tribesmen of Yemen, the historical ancestors of today’s Houthi rebels.
Yemen, in fact, was frequently called the “graveyard of Anatolia” or the “graveyard of Ottoman soldiers”.
Victoria Clark, in Yemen: Dancing on the Heads of Snakes (2010), writes that by the 1890s Yemen was already “renowned as the ‘graveyard of the Turks'” during Ahmed Feyzi Pasha’s campaigns.
She also quoted an Ottoman official: “Yemen has become now the graveyard of Muslims and money.”
Turkish journalist and author Mustafa Balbay titled his book ‘Türkler Mezarlığı Yemen,’ which means “Cemetery of the Turks”.
In fact, describing Yemen as a “graveyard of Turkish soldiers” is a recurring theme in Ottoman (Turkish) historical memory.
Yemen Türküsü is a famous Turkish folk song that serves as a tragic lament for Ottoman soldiers who marched off to fight in Yemen during World War I and never returned.
Another Turkish folk song remembers the difficulties faced by Ottoman soldiers in Yemen and pays homage to Turks who went to Yemen but never returned.
“There are no clouds in the sky, what is this smoke?
There is no death in the neighborhood, what is this commotion?
These lands of Yemen are so treacherous
Oh, Yemen, its rose is a meadow
Why do those who leave not return?”
Ayşe Hür, in her article “The largest Ottoman cemetery: Yemen,” recounts that the Ottoman rule in Yemen was fiercely opposed by Zaydis, the ancestors of Houthi rebels.
According to the Zaydis, the Ottomans were ‘turbaned infidels’.

In his work titled “My Lament,” Ahmet İzzet (Furgaç) Pasha, who was sent to Yemen in early 20th century to supress a Zaydi revolt against the Ottomans described the period of Ottoman struggle in Yemen (1635-1840) in following words: “After a century of conflict in Jabal, with internal revolts and constant wars against the Zaydi imams, which continued until the year 1045 AH (1635), the entire Yemen region fell under the rule of the Zaydi imams due to the siege and pressure exerted on Haydar Pasha, who was forgotten and left in Jabal by the central government.”
Ottoman sources do not specify how many people died in the wars with the Zaydis during these 100 years, merely stating that “thousands of people died.”
“Going to Yemen and not returning” has been the fate of Ottoman soldiers since the 16th century, Ayşe Hür wrote in her article.
In the article titled “The Situation in Yemen” in the 15th issue of the Ottoman Newspaper dated 1316 (1900), it was stated: “As a result of Ahmet Fevzi Pasha’s wrong policies, approximately 4,000 soldiers died every year.”
Ayşe Hür also quoted an Ottoman official in her article who said that 1,30,000 Ottoman soldiers were buried in the Hijaz and Yemen between 1871 and 1894.
Marshal Galip, who served as a captain in Yemen in the 19th century, wrote: “Since I worked under the General Staff, all the general staff records passed through my hands. In these records, I noticed a wide and terrible gap between the new soldiers joining the army and those who were replaced or disabled… Yemen was a permanent war zone at that time.
“I compared the number of those who joined their factions or were mobilized en masse and sent away due to rebellions with the number of those who survived and returned to their homeland. The conclusion I reached was this: In the 22 years that had passed, a total of 130,000 Anatolian youths had been buried in the deserts of Hejaz and Yemen.”
In 2011, then-Turkish President Abdullah Gül renovated and inaugurated a Turkish Memorial Cemetery (Yemen-Türk Şehitliği) in Sanaa to commemorate the Ottoman soldiers who died in Yemeni campaigns.
Just one year later, in 2012, Houthi rebels demolished part of the memorial.
For centuries, the memorial has symbolized the Ottoman presence in Yemen. The deliberate attack on this memorial serves as a reminder of how the Houthis recall Ottoman campaigns in Yemen.

It was also a clear message to Ankara that they would not accept any Turkish involvement in Yemen.
Writing in Politics Today, Ahd Yaseen Al-Tamimi said: “History textbooks, which were adopted after 1962, presented a positive view of the Ottoman Empire and its rule over Yemen. Nevertheless, this did not prevent Zaydi supporters from maintaining their strict and extremist position on the Ottoman Empire.”
Of course, Turkey is a strong military power, and its influence extends in Yemen as well.
It has achieved remarkable military success in Syria, Libya, and in combating Kurdish insurgents in Iraq. Its military support to Azerbaijan was perhaps the deciding factor in its war against Armenia.
However, Yemen is a different ballgame altogether.
And if history is anything to go by, then Yemen, often described as a “graveyard of the Ottomans,” could once again become a quagmire for Turkey.
The post Why Yemen Could be a Graveyard for Turkish & Mecca Pact Soldiers: History Has The Answers: OPED appeared first on EURASIAN TIMES.
Recently, during the 5th Halla Bolle Conclave held at the Radisson Collection in Srinagar, Jammu and Kashmir, the same separatist discourse once again found space.
The conclave brought together mainstream political leaders and a former separatist figure, with discussions focusing on issues such as restoring statehood, Article 370, autonomy, political rights, governance, youth aspirations, reconciliation, and India-Pakistan relations.
Many of the questions asked and answers given reflected narratives that have long been nurtured in the Valley and closely resemble Pakistan’s longstanding propaganda on Kashmir.
The participation of mainstream political leaders alongside former separatist figures also showed how some of these old narratives still find space in Kashmir’s contemporary political discourse.
Aga Syed Ruhullah Mehdi, the National Conference Member of Parliament (MP) representing the Srinagar Lok Sabha constituency, who behaves like some philosopher-king, is systematically promoting Pakistan’s propaganda and narratives.
He tries his best to hurt India whenever he gets the chance.
For instance, when asked to state his position on the situation in Muzaffarabad and Pakistan-occupied Jammu and Kashmir (PoJK), he said that he would not talk about it until people in the Valley were ‘empowered’, deflecting by declaring, ‘Return our dignity & we will talk about Muzaffarabad’. He then went on to claim that Kashmiris face the status of ‘second-class citizens’ in the Valley, asserting that ‘our reality is that we are disenfranchised as second-class citizens.’
This is exactly the problem. He avoids questions concerning PoJK but remains extremely vocal when criticizing India.
He is actually misusing his constitutional right to freedom of speech and expression and using Indian democracy as a shield while promoting narratives that are completely in line with Pakistan’s interests. He actually doesn’t want to hurt his masters sitting in Rawalpindi.
He also claims that there is no freedom of speech, frequently protesting that, “as a Kashmiri Muslim voice, I was denied the opportunity to speak.” Yet his actions contradict this narrative. He himself makes the most noise, using every available platform to speak publicly, give interviews, address gatherings, speak in Parliament, and criticize India regularly.
If he is supposedly not allowed to speak, then how is he able to constantly and systematically spread venom and engage in anti-India propaganda repeatedly?
There is a clear difference between legitimate democratic criticism of a government and repeatedly using the democratic space available in India to promote narratives that portray India itself as the source of Kashmir’s problems while giving Pakistan a free pass for its sponsorship of cross-border terrorism and the killing of innocent civilians in J&K and the rest of the country.
Then, an audience member asked National Conference president Farooq Abdullah why Kashmir had aligned with ‘Hindu-majority India’ in 1947. The very framing of the phrase ‘Hindu-majority India’ exposes the toxic ideology behind the question.
However, those who push such narratives desperately need to look at what actually happened to the regions that joined Pakistan in 1947, as well as those parts of the subcontinent that were forcibly taken by Pakistan, and the misery their people endure today.
Look at Balochistan. Look at Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. Look at the political and institutional failures that ultimately led to the secession of Bangladesh, demonstrating that a shared religious identity alone could not keep Pakistan united. Most importantly, look at the disaster that is Pakistan-occupied Jammu and Kashmir (PoJK) today.
For years, the people of PoJK have taken to the streets to protest Islamabad over basic political, economic, and social rights. The recent protests have faced deadly crackdowns, reportedly leaving more than 150 people killed, while the brutal authorities have even gone so far as to restrict the supply of essential goods, including food, flour, medicines, and fuel, during periods of unrest.
Yet Pakistan’s propaganda machinery has repeatedly played its cards well in Kashmir. Its influence remains deeply entrenched in the Valley, allowing narratives about Pakistan and India to persist regardless of what happens inside Pakistan.
Pakistan can have Imran Khan in jail, political repression, a deeply constrained democratic system, and an army that continues to exercise enormous influence over the country’s politics, elections, government formation, policymaking, and even the broader political system, yet people in Kashmir are repeatedly told that Pakistan’s problems are somehow the result of an Indian conspiracy.
Even when Pakistan itself is burning, its failures are deflected towards India rather than examined as the consequences of its own political and institutional failures.
This should force Indian authorities to rethink their approach and ask why such narratives continue to resonate in the Valley. Simply dismissing them as propaganda will not be enough. There needs to be a serious effort to understand the channels through which they spread, the political actors who amplify them, and the reasons they continue to influence public discourse.
Certain mainstream political parties and leaders in Jammu and Kashmir have also played a major role in keeping this discourse alive. They have repeatedly used the blood and suffering of Kashmiris for their own political objectives. Rather than challenging narratives promoted by Pakistan, they have often sustained and magnified them.
Take PDP chief Mehbooba Mufti, for example. She has advocated opening the Line of Control in Kashmir so that trade can take place with Central Asia, Afghanistan, and other regions, invoking the old Silk Route and China’s connectivity. One has to ask: what world is she living in?
Does she not understand the region’s geopolitics? Does she not understand the cross-border terrorism and terrorist infrastructure operating from Pakistan-occupied territory? Does she not understand the India-Pakistan dispute over PoJK? Does she not understand China’s illegal territorial claims against India in Jammu and Kashmir, the Shaksgam Valley territory ceded by Pakistan to China in 1963, the recent Galwan clashes, and China’s broader geostrategic interests in the region?
It is not simply a matter of opening India’s borders and assuming that will solve everything. Other players have their own interests and nefarious designs, and they too have agency. Besides, extra-regional powers have their own interests. The region is not operating in a geopolitical vacuum.
The problem with Kashmir’s political leadership is that they rarely talk about the issues that actually matter to the people, for which they were elected, and instead think that by playing separatist politics, they can secure their votes and political future.
They rarely talk about how to improve the living standards of common people, eliminate corruption, generate employment, improve infrastructure, attract investment, or make governance more accountable and responsive.

Instead, they have often tried to frame the relationship between the people of Kashmir and the central government in colonial terms, as a master-slave relationship. They repeatedly use words such as “Delhi,” while saying that Kashmiris have to “fight Delhi.” They rarely speak about constructive engagement with the central government.
They now say that Kashmiris have been “disempowered” after the abrogation of Article 370 in 2019. But what happened before 2019? Were Kashmiris not being described as “alienated” and “disempowered” before 2019 as well? Were these same political leaders not making exactly the same arguments then?
If they were making the same arguments before 2019, then what exactly did they do for the people of Kashmir when they had the political power they now claim to have lost?
This is something that needs to be asked.
Moreover, the words “alienation” and “disempowerment” are not being used accidentally. They carry a specific political meaning and fit into a particular narrative. The problem is that these leaders have never really looked at the relationship between Jammu and Kashmir and the central government in the same way that political leaders in other parts of India look at their relationship with the Center.
The current noise over statehood also needs to be understood in this context. They present the demand for statehood as though it is entirely about the interests of the common people. But is it?
Of course, statehood is important, and people can legitimately demand its restoration. But it also involves political interests. These political parties want more political power and greater control over the administration.
After losing statehood, they feel they lost a significant part of their political authority. They also want statehood because it would give them greater political control and a shield from the scrutiny and accountability they currently face from different agencies and institutions. In this sense, the demand for statehood is also about restoring their own political power and reducing accountability.
But the common people have other priorities. They want good governance. They want corruption to be eliminated. They want development, employment, better infrastructure, better public services, and an improved standard of living.
The question is: when there was statehood before 2019, what did they do to improve the lives of common people?
If the mainstream political parties in Jammu and Kashmir had pursued positive, constructive, forward-looking, and pragmatic politics instead of sustaining and magnifying narratives that have served Pakistan’s interests, the Valley could have been very different.
Political parties have every right to criticize the government. They have every right to demand statehood, greater powers, development, and political representation. But when criticism of India becomes constant while questions concerning Pakistan are systematically avoided, and when every issue is presented through the prism of alienation and disempowerment, it becomes necessary to ask whose interests this politics is ultimately serving.
The mainstream political leadership in Jammu and Kashmir needs to understand that the people of Kashmir cannot be kept permanently trapped in the politics of grievance, alienation, and victimhood. The people deserve politics that focuses on their future, not politics that continuously recycles past narratives.
The post Kashmir’s ‘Halla Bolle’ Conclave: Old Script, New Venue. Venom Against India But Mum on Pakistan: OPED appeared first on EURASIAN TIMES.
During his interaction with the press ahead of Air Force Day on October 8, 2026, the Chief of the Air Staff (CAS) stated that, in the near future, the Indian Air Force would have a “healthy mix” of LCA Tejas Mk 1A, LCA Mk 2, the French Rafale and the indigenous fifth-generation AMCA.
On the face of it, there is little to quarrel with what the CAS stated.
These aircraft will undoubtedly constitute important elements of the IAF’s future fighter fleet. However, the projection has some infirmities that are difficult to overlook.
The first question is what the CAS meant by the “near future”.
If the statement is intended to describe the fighter fleet that the IAF will field over the next decade or so, the mix is understandable. But if it projects the force structure into the 2040s—and beyond—it raises a more fundamental question.
How far into the future was the CAS extrapolating current procurement plans to arrive at the projected “healthy mix”?
Based on the past record of Indian fighter aircraft development projects, I would think at least 15 years from now, well into the 2040s.
By then, Tejas Mk 1A, Tejas Mk 2, Rafale and AMCA could indeed form the backbone of the IAF’s manned combat-aircraft fleet. But describing that combination alone as a “healthy mix” ignores a major transformation already underway in air warfare.
The manned fighter is no longer the whole equation
There is little doubt that the IAF will continue to depend predominantly on the 4th-generation fighters named by the CAS, quite possibly for the next 20 to 30 years. Fighter aircraft have long service lives, and India’s continuing dependence on legacy and contemporary 4th-generation platforms is therefore likely to persist well into the 2040s and perhaps beyond.
But the fighter force of the 2040s cannot be assessed merely by counting manned fighters across different generations.
The changing character of air warfare will demand a mix of manned and unmanned platforms, with different levels of survivability, autonomy and weapons heft.
This matters because the most dangerous missions in a future conflict will likely involve penetrating increasingly dense and sophisticated air-defense networks. A manned 4th-generation fighter, however capable, is not necessarily the most appropriate platform for every such mission.
The IAF’s future force structure will therefore need an increasing proportion of unmanned combat aircraft.
At one end of the spectrum would be relatively inexpensive unmanned systems able to perform reconnaissance, electronic warfare, decoy and weapons-truck functions. At the other end would be sophisticated unmanned combat aircraft capable of operating alongside manned fighters as loyal wingmen.
The latter could substantially increase the effectiveness of a manned fighter formation. An unmanned aircraft could carry additional weapons, extend the formation’s sensor coverage, perform electronic attack or act as a decoy, while exposing no pilot to the risk of a mission in heavily defended airspace.
There is also an important economic dimension. An unmanned platform does not necessarily have to replicate the capabilities, complexity, or cost of a manned fighter. A future air force could therefore field far more expendable or attritable unmanned combat aircraft than it could afford to field manned fighters.
This would fundamentally alter the arithmetic of air combat.
The “healthy mix” the CAS referred to was therefore, in my view, probably intended primarily for mainstream media consumption.
That is not necessarily a criticism of the CAS.
Mainstream reporting tends to operate at shallow depths and gravitates towards readily understood narratives. In India’s case, the Atmanirbharta (self-reliance) narrative is particularly attractive.
Tejas Mk 1A, Tejas Mk 2 and AMCA fit neatly into that narrative, while Rafale provides the foreign component of the mix.
But the full spectrum of capabilities that the IAF will require in the 2040s is considerably more complicated.
It would include manned 4th-generation fighters, 4.5-generation fighters, 5th-generation VLO aircraft and an expanding family of unmanned combat aircraft ranging from relatively inexpensive attritable systems to sophisticated loyal wingmen.

I suspect that the IAF leadership understands this reality.
India’s indigenous technological capability in unmanned combat aircraft is still far short of what it would take to develop and field the full range of systems a future air force will need.
The problem is not simply the airframe. Autonomous operation, artificial intelligence, manned-unmanned teaming, secure communications, distributed sensing, electronic warfare and the ability to operate in a heavily contested electromagnetic environment all present formidable challenges.
MoD bureaucrats are unlikely to be unaware of these limitations either.
Under the circumstances, articulating the full range of what a truly “healthy mix” would entail would perhaps serve little purpose in a public interaction with the media.
But that does not make the issue any less important.
The real challenge is not recognizing that India needs a mix of manned and unmanned combat aircraft. It is developing the technologies and industrial ecosystem needed to field them in meaningful numbers.
The IAF of the 2040s will almost certainly still contain large numbers of 4th-generation fighters. There is nothing inherently wrong with that. The question is what surrounds them.
If the future force consists predominantly of today’s manned fighter concepts, supplemented by a relatively small number of AMCA aircraft, it may represent a healthy mix of India’s current procurement programs.
It may not, however, be a healthy mix for the wars India could have to fight in the 2040s and beyond.
The distinction is important. A force structure should not be called “healthy” merely because it contains a balanced selection of aircraft India can build or procure today.
It should be judged against the operational environment in which that force will actually have to fight.
The post Rafale, Tejas & AMCA: IAF’s “Healthy Mix” of Fighter Jets Leaves Out The Aircraft That May Matter The Most appeared first on EURASIAN TIMES.
OPED by Mahendra Ved
Indian High Commissioner Dinesh Trivedi has conveyed a few home truths to his host country, Bangladesh.
They seem to have been forgotten while demanding that ousted former Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina be returned: on August 5, 2024, she was “not brought by the Indian Air Force or the Indian Army.”
India had “hardly any choice” and was “unprepared” when she arrived.
Now a diplomat, the politician avoided stating the obvious: she was brought from Dhaka to India on a Bangladesh Air Force aircraft.
Another reminder: “At that point in time, Hasina was still the prime minister of Bangladesh.”
He said that legal procedures were ‘underway’ for her extradition, and that they take time.
Of course, he didn’t mention Hasina’s repeated announcement in December that she would return of her own discretion.
How times have changed! Once considered the ‘friendliest’ in South Asia, India’s relations with Bangladesh have become complex, even delicate.
Sheikh Hasina’s exile in India and her proposed return have added another layer of complexity to an already extraordinarily complicated relationship.
Addressing the media and her Awami League cadres through audio calls, she has repeated that she will return home, despite knowing that arrest and prosecution await her.
Seeking international support from lawmakers and human rights organizations, she has addressed seminars in London and Geneva via audio.
Prime Minister Tarique Rahman’s government expressed ‘outrage’ at her audio address in Delhi and has banned domestic media from reporting it. It did not respond to India’s twin invitations, one bilateral and the other for the BRICS summit in New Delhi.
A brief update is essential.
Following Hasina’s ouster, an interim government led by Muhammad Yunus sustained itself on anti-Hasina and, since she was in India, anti-India sentiment.
Since this year’s February elections, a party with a history of problematic relations with India has been in power. The elections also brought to power an opposition force of Jamaat-e-Islami and students who worked to oust Hasina and see India as an adversary.
As India tries to rebuild bilateral ties under totally changed circumstances, hosting Hasina has complicated them. Rahman’s possible visit in November has been discussed at different levels, but exploring dates and announcing final dates are different.
To anyone unversed in India-Bangladesh ties, the two issues—Hasina’s return and Tarique’s visit—may appear separate. In reality, they are closely intertwined.
The government in Dhaka wants Hasina back, convicted of serious crimes and sentenced to death. Since it involves a bilateral extradition treaty, India cannot simply hand her over.

As Rahman faces pressure, especially from the opposition, he must weigh in on Hasina’s presence while visiting India. His government’s grievance, also used as leverage, affects ties with Delhi.
Delhi, meanwhile, has a larger strategic interest: building a workable relationship with the government in Dhaka, whoever leads it. Bangladesh is too important to India to let the relationship remain permanently hostage to a former prime minister’s fate.
That is why the proposed Tarique visit matters. But it is also why it is difficult. There is a certain diplomatic stalemate.
Dhaka cannot easily separate Hasina’s presence in India from its own domestic politics. It wants Delhi to accept the new political reality. Yet the Hasina question remains the most emotionally and politically charged issue between them.
Both neighbors want a relationship based on mutual interests and reciprocity. But neither wants to be seen conceding on Hasina to facilitate Rahman’s visit. Any ‘understanding’ with India on this would expose Rahman at home to the charge of having surrendered.
This explains why Rahman’s visit in November is possible, but not certain.
Because after November comes December.
Assuming Hasina returns, another question becomes unavoidable: what happens to her safety?
If the Rahman government arrests and prosecutes her, it is also duty-bound to protect her.
It may regard her as responsible for grave political and human-rights abuses. It may even seek to establish her responsibility through courts. But it cannot allow her fate to be decided by an assassin, a mob or an extremist organization.
With several past attempts on her life, Hasina herself has acknowledged that she could face death if she returns. The Bangladesh government has responded by saying that she would receive full security and legal protection.
The world witnessed the assassination of another former prime minister, Benazir Bhutto of Pakistan, in 2007. It reminds us that government protection does not make an extremist threat disappear. A politically prominent person can remain a target even when the state has formally undertaken to protect her.
One would not like to push the Benazir angle too far. Nothing so far suggests a conspiracy or that Hasina is destined to meet the same fate. But religious extremism has deep roots in Bangladesh. It also witnessed killings of people in jail in 1975. Hence, the threat to Hasina’s life cannot be dismissed.
That creates a paradox for Rahman’s government. It is not just a political gesture to an adversary; Hasina’s protection is a state obligation.
Indeed, this matters because Hasina is not merely another former prime minister. She is the daughter of Sheik Mujibur Rahman and has been at the center of Bangladesh’s political life for decades. To her supporters, she represents a political tradition that is now under assault. To her opponents, she represents a period of authoritarian rule for which she must answer.
If she returns and faces trial, Bangladesh will certainly be under an international microscope. If the proceedings are conducted peacefully and in accordance with the law, the government can argue that the country has chosen the judicial route.
If she is imprisoned, the government will have to show that imprisonment is not an excuse for political revenge.
And if, despite state protection, she were killed by extremists, the political consequences could be enormous—even if the government itself had nothing to do with the assassination.
Hasina could become a martyr. The now-banned Awami League could acquire a powerful new symbol. The new government’s credibility could be damaged. And Bangladesh’s already polarised politics could become even more dangerous.
Both must consider the wider strategic considerations.
India cannot build its Bangladesh policy entirely around Hasina.
Her nearly 16-year rule created a close relationship between New Delhi and Dhaka, particularly on security and connectivity. But governments change. India has to deal with the Bangladesh that exists, not simply the Bangladesh it would prefer to see.
That means engaging Tarique Rahman’s government. It means rebuilding political contacts and restoring economic and commercial links. It means addressing border security, connectivity, water, the Northeast, and China’s growing influence. It means recognizing that the new Bangladesh will have its own political priorities.
But normalization does not require India to forget Hasina. Nor does it require Bangladesh to abandon its demand for justice.
Perhaps the two countries can eventually learn to separate these questions.
Tarique Rahman can visit India.
The post Hasina’s Return to Bangladesh is the Price of PM Tarique Rahman’s Visit to India. Are Delhi & Dhaka Both Stuck appeared first on EURASIAN TIMES.
The recent summit between US President Donald Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping may have projected an image of renewed engagement; however, while two Presidents negotiated above the surface, their navies were preparing for a contest in which nuclear-powered attack submarines (SSNs) could play a decisive role.
The strategic rivalry between Washington and Beijing seems to be moving on a very different track—especially under the waters of the Indo-Pacific.
At the moment, the United States may have a substantial lead in the number of SSNs, technology, and operational experience, but China is rapidly catching up by expanding its undersea capabilities.
In its quest to narrow the gap with the US, China has entered a race for undersea advantage across the Indo-Pacific, which could shape deterrence, sea control, and the strategic balance of power for decades to come.
For maritime domination, both SSNs and SSBNs (nuclear-powered ballistic missile submarines) play critical roles.
SSBNs primarily provide nuclear deterrence by ensuring a credible second-strike capability, whereas SSNs are essentially designed to conduct hunter-killer missions, including tracking and, if necessary, engaging adversary SSBNs, as well as escorting carrier strike groups (CSGs) for sea control missions.
As Korean scholar Dongkeun Lee points out, in the context of the Indo-Pacific, SSN operations can be broadly classified into two primary missions: (1) countering SSBN capabilities and (2) escorting CSGs. The former is closely associated with nuclear deterrence, whereas the latter reflects the traditional sea power function of controlling and protecting key sea lines of communication (SLOCs).
Both missions are particularly important in this part of the world as its principal flashpoints, including the East China Sea, the South China Sea, and the Taiwan Strait, are all maritime domains. Maintaining credible naval capabilities, therefore, is essential to advancing both deterrence and broader strategic objectives in the region.
Incidentally, around one-third of global shipping traverses the South China Sea. The maritime gateways here are critical not only for China but also for Taiwan, South Korea and Japan.
American CSGs continue to play a major role in controlling and protecting these critical SLOCs. Consequently, SSNs play an equally crucial role in escorting CSGs. By providing lethal undersea capabilities that can silently target threats across multiple domains, including surface and subsurface targets, SSNs can effectively eliminate threats to aircraft carriers.
The United States permanently deploys an aircraft carrier to the Seventh Fleet, based in Yokosuka, Japan, and it is common for more than one CSG to be present in this region at any given time. SSNs’ presence here serves both to protect US carrier groups and to create the possibility of threatening Chinese nuclear submarines.
Likewise, the PRC is rapidly developing its own CSG capability to counterbalance that of the United States in the South China Sea. China’s Yulin naval base on Hainan Island is an important center for its nuclear submarine forces.
Until recently, the undersea dominance tilted heavily in favor of the US. But the alignments are fast changing.
Though the US Navy still leads with an all-nuclear fleet of 71 active submarines (including 51–53 SSNs/SSGNs), China has now surpassed Russia to command the world’s second-largest nuclear submarine fleet with an estimated 9 to 12 SSNs (such as the Type 093 and Type 093A/093B Shang-class) and 6 SSBNs (Jin-class Type 094), totaling roughly 32 active nuclear submarines across its entire naval forces that operate primarily in the Indo-Pacific region.

In a recent IISS assessment, China launched 10 nuclear-powered submarines between 2021 and 2025, totaling 79,000 tonnes, against America’s 7 boats at 55,000 tonnes. For the first time, China out-built the US in both numbers and tonnage in a five-year window, it is argued.
“Most significantly, this includes the seventh and eighth Type 094 (Jin) nuclear-armed ballistic-missile submarines (SSBNs), which come as part of the emergence of Beijing’s nuclear triad,” the IISS study says.
It noted that commercially available satellite imagery taken in early 2026 showed six Type 094s in total, spread between the Bohai Shipbuilding Heavy Industry Co (BSHIC) shipyard in Huludao, the 1st Submarine Base at Jianggezhuang, the Xiaopingdao test facility and the 2nd Submarine Base at Yalong Bay on Hainan Island.
“Allowing for additional boats either on deterrence patrol or under cover for refit during this period, it is almost certainly the case that China has launched a seventh and eighth Type-094 in 2024 and 2025, respectively,” the IIISS study concludes.
In addition to the Type 094s, Bohai is also producing nuclear-powered guided-missile submarines (SSGN) for the People’s Liberation Army, with the study suggesting that nine Type 093B (Shang III) boats have been launched between 2022 and this year, based on commercial satellite imagery of the facility and US government assessments.
Incidentally, in March this year, the US Navy’s intelligence chief, Rear Admiral Mike Brookes, testified before the US-China Economic and Security Review Commission (USCC) that China is undertaking a major shift toward building an all-nuclear submarine fleet as part of a broader effort to strengthen its undersea warfare capabilities and expand blue-water naval power.
According to Brookes, the People’s Liberation Army Navy (PLAN), which operates more than 60 submarines in total, including roughly 50 conventional diesel-electric boats (SSK) and a smaller number of SSNs and SSBNs, is transitioning away from conventional submarines toward a predominantly nuclear construction program to support sustained operations, strategic deterrence and sea-lane interdiction.
Brookes also pointed out that China had expanded submarine production infrastructure across three major shipyards, tripling construction hall capacity and more than doubling production capability to sustain higher output of advanced nuclear boats through the 2030s.
By 2027, China’s submarine force is projected to reach roughly 70 submarines, adding up to six SSGNs, three smaller-class SSNs, and two SSBNs while retiring older Chinese and Russian-built submarines. By 2035, continued expansion could yield up to 80 submarines, with about half nuclear-powered—a major shift in force composition—and projections for the early 2040s include around 20-30 new-class SSGNs and SSBNs.
These platforms will be designed from the keel up for blue-water operations and persistent presence beyond the first island chain, representing an evolution in PLA Navy undersea operational capabilities. China will likely field a more survivable and numerous ballistic missile submarine force equipped with longer-range, more accurate SLBMs, enabling patrols in bastions closer to home waters while holding the US homeland at risk.

Broader deployment of long-range, potentially hypersonic anti-ship and land-attack missiles from undersea platforms is anticipated, along with more sophisticated torpedoes and unmanned vehicles for ISR, mine warfare, and strike missions. Substantial investments in seabed sensors, undersea cables, and unmanned systems will enhance China’s situational awareness while creating vulnerabilities for the US and allies in crisis or conflict.
The Indo-Pacific will remain the PLA Navy’s primary focus, but by 2040 routine submarine deployments to the Indian Ocean, Arctic approaches, and possibly the Atlantic are likely, Brookes cautions.
However, as noted above, the US Navy currently has superior acoustic quieting, combat experience, and highly advanced Virginia-class SSNs. But as the EurAsian Times once explained, the US has a backlog of 12 Virginia-class submarines, in addition to three Columbia-class ballistic submarines.
Its production rate of 1.2 per year falls far short of the required 2.33 per year to meet its own needs and those of its allies (under the AUKUS pact, it is supposed to provide at least three Virginia-class submarines to Australia in the early 2030s).
Only three US shipyards can build nuclear-powered attack submarines (Groton, Connecticut; Quonset Point, Rhode Island; and Newport, Virginia). Only two of them are functional at the moment.
While the US defense industrial base is severely strained, China’s naval shipyards are said to be outperforming. With about 9 older Shang I/II boats plus an estimated 16 Type 093B hulls in service, in trials, or under construction, China is said to have the largest SSN series under construction anywhere.
The 093B reportedly features a vertical launch system for 24 YJ-12/YJ-18 anti-ship cruise missiles and six torpedo tubes, shifting China from torpedo brawls to long-range strike.
In the Indo-Pacific, the undersea race seems to change three fundamentals.
First, the era of uncontested US undersea dominance is over. US SSNs have long hunted Chinese SSBNs inside their bastion, keeping Beijing’s deterrent vulnerable. But now, China can sustain continuous at-sea deterrence patrols from Hainan’s Yalong Bay, protected by surface fleet and seabed sensors. That forces US SSNs to operate closer to Chinese waters, at higher risk, stretching ASW resources thin.
Second, the proliferation of quiet Chinese SSNs with VLS—at least six SSGN hulls launched in the past five years with vertical launch systems that could fire high-speed anti-ship missiles displayed in Beijing—means every US carrier entering the Taiwan Strait or South China Sea now faces a multi-axis underwater missile threat. The carrier’s sanctuary beyond the first island chain, once assumed, is no longer safe.
Third, China’s rapid maritime expansion has fundamentally altered the Indo-Pacific security landscape, prompting Australia and Japan to aggressively build strategic counterweights. Rather than acting in isolation, Canberra and Tokyo have pivoted toward minilateral security alliances, military modernization, and supply chain diversification to offset Beijing’s growing naval dominance.
Australia and Japan, alongside the United States and the Philippines, have formalized a security grouping explicitly designed to counter Beijing’s aggressive maneuvers in the South and East China Seas. This alliance focuses on joint maritime patrols, intelligence sharing, and military interoperability to safeguard freedom of navigation under international law.
Driven by the need to project power across its vast northern approaches, Australia has fundamentally reshaped its defense posture. This is anchored by the AUKUS pact—enabling Australia to acquire conventionally armed, nuclear-powered submarines—positioning the nation as a formidable southern anchor against Chinese naval projection.
For India, which has no SSNs in service (it previously leased from Russia and now plans indigenous production) and operates only three SSBNs (Arihant, Arighaat, and Aridhaman), the implications are significant.
Against India’s slow naval expansion, Chinese nuclear submarines, including intelligence-gathering vessels, now regularly traverse the Indian Ocean.
Overall, one could say that “the silent service” in the Indo-Pacific is becoming loud.
During the Cold War, the submarine race was primarily fought in the Atlantic. Now, it is shifting to the Indo-Pacific, raising uncertainties over whether it will remain free and open.
The post As Trump & Xi Talk — U.S. and China’s Nuclear Submarines Race For Dominance in the Indo-Pacific appeared first on EURASIAN TIMES.
As India hosts Tarang Shakti 2026 multinational drills, one learns not only from large-force engagements or one-on-one combat debriefs, but also from peculiar approaches, mannerisms, body language, and professional conduct.
The Americans have long followed the dictum of stating capabilities as they evolved, and in a way intimidating and making the opponent subservient with their larger-than-life persona.
Americans have led and driven military technologies and used never-ending conflicts to test weapons and doctrines. This gave them confidence and sometimes overconfidence in their approach.
Also, after the end of the Cold War, they chose to be global policemen and thought they would dictate all geopolitical outcomes, although they burned their fingers in most cases, at great cost to American lives and the exchequer.
The Soviet Union invested heavily in military, space, and nuclear power in the four decades after WW II and was a major competitor to the USA and the West. But the Soviet communist economy was otherwise hollow, and geopolitical power ultimately became unsustainable.
For long, the Russians, and their Soviet predecessors, believed in secrecy that kept the opponents guessing, and often being unsure, were frightened of the unknown capabilities.
The French have long worried about a possible Soviet juggernaut overwhelming and running over Europe, and have traditionally not trusted the Americans for their security. They just chose to have their own independent aircraft industry.
Indian military aviation gained valuable experience in WW II and, immediately after independence, began seeing air combat action that continued as recently as Op Sindoor. India benefited from exposure to British, Russian, American, and French aerial platforms and learned operational employment concepts from each.
It is worth understanding each one’s peculiarities.
The U.S. Air Force (USAF) operations approach has traditionally focused on integrating airpower across all domains to deter, compete, and win in contested environments. They believe in the “Competition Continuum” and view operations through a continuous framework of cooperation, competition, and conflict as part of their core operational concepts.
They believe that you are either with them or against them.
USA has long tried to use its technological edge to overwhelm its opponents. But that did not always work. American air power achieved tactical and operational successes in Vietnam, but it ultimately failed to accomplish its primary strategic and political objectives.
Coercion may not break the “Will” of a determined enemy.
The strategic bombing campaigns, such as “Operation Rolling Thunder” (1965–1968), failed to break the resolve of the North Vietnamese leadership or stop the continuous flow of men and supplies down the Ho Chi Minh Trail.
Political constraints of employment prevented air power from delivering a decisive blow. Heavy conventional bombing can be counterproductive against an asymmetric, rural insurgency, as was the case in Vietnam, often alienating the local population instead of winning “hearts and minds”.
US air power worked well in uncontested campaigns in Iraq and Afghanistan, but failed to achieve worthwhile political objectives. More recently, in “Operation Epic Fury” against Iran, the massive air campaign combined high-altitude dominance with sustained heavy bomber strikes against Iranian infrastructure.
They used stealth platforms (B-2 and F-35) and heavy bombers (B-52) to strike command centers, air defenses, and missile sites simultaneously across Iran. The B-52 missions were meant to target deeply buried, fortified military installations.
The US air power largely achieved its technical objectives, degrading conventional Iranian military production, force projection, and air defense networks. But the air dominance failed to force an unconditional surrender or collapse the regime.
Iran adapted by ceding high skies and shifting focus downward to the lower airspace over the Strait of Hormuz using low-cost drones and missiles, disrupting global shipping and raising transit costs for the U.S. Navy. Iranian missile and drone counter-attacks successfully struck regional forward bases in countries like Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Bahrain, and Kuwait, damaging U.S. ground infrastructure and support aircraft.
The U.S. has been focusing on Joint All-Domain Operations (JADO), synchronizing air, space, cyberspace, land, and maritime capabilities seamlessly across services. NATO has shifted to Agile Combat Employment (ACE), moving operations away from large, centralized bases to dispersed, makeshift locations to increase survivability.
New approach to “Point Defense” requires integrated systems to protect critical base infrastructure from drone and missile threats. USAF is now preparing for “Force Generation” by restructuring how combat-ready forces are presented, trained, and sustained for high-end peer conflicts with China in the Indo-Pacific.
USAF continues to prepare for global vigilance, global reach, and global power. US air warriors are highly professional and focused on leading the world in technology employment, doctrine, and tactical concept development.

Russia fields the world’s second-ranked military power. Russia possesses the largest nuclear weapons stockpile globally, estimated at over 5,400 warheads.
Russia operates the world’s third-strongest air force, backed by a massive total inventory of over 4,000 military aircraft. Production lines for key tactical aircraft like the Su-34 strike fighter and Su-35 air superiority jet have continued, helping offset operational attrition.
The integration of ultra-long-range air-to-air armaments, such as the R-37M missile, allows Russian jets to threaten targets at extended stand-off ranges.
Advanced 4.5-generation aircraft like the Sukhoi Su-35S feature thrust-vectoring engines for high maneuverability, powerful phased-array radars, and robust electronic warfare suites, alongside early-production fifth-generation Su-57 stealth fighters. Large stockpiles of cruise and ballistic missiles allow for persistent strategic and tactical bombardment.

Russian forces maintain advanced, dense electronic warfare systems that can disrupt enemy communications and neutralize incoming drones. The highly sophisticated integrated air defense systems feature long-range surface-to-air missile (SAM) platforms like the S-400 and S-500.
During the Cold War, the Soviet air arm was designed for long-range, high-altitude interceptions under close ground control. Aircraft were supplemented with long-range air-defense missiles.
Aircrews train extensively in extreme post-stall maneuvers such as the “Cobra,” using vectored engine thrust to maintain control at near-zero airspeeds. For long, Russia treated airpower as an army-centric, ground-support extension, or flying artillery, rather than an independent offensive strike force.
The Russian Aerospace Forces (VKS) was not designed to execute independent, deep-penetration air campaigns like NATO doctrine. Russia lacks comprehensive suppression of enemy air defenses (SEAD) capabilities for wide offensive dominance.
Russia prioritizes layered defense against adversary aerospace threats using advanced mobile SAMs integrated closely with fighter aviation. Lessons from Ukraine have made them switch to stand-off attacks.
Fighters like the Sukhoi Su-34 release glide bombs from 35 to 50 kilometers away to mitigate the risk of entering dense adversary air defenses. They are switching to high-volume usage of tactical and long-range attack drones, along with synchronized cruise missile strikes.
Integration of domestic and foreign-supplied drone technology has expanded real-time reconnaissance and strike coordination on the front lines.
The French approach to air operations relies on centralized command and control, rapid global power projection, and a strategic doctrine focused on using precise, minimal necessary force. France has combined air and space into a single force, as the domains are considered contiguous.
The National Air Operations Center (CNOA) at Lyon-Mont Verdun acts as the core command node. This setup allows France to control domestic airspace defense and international expeditions simultaneously.
The French Air and Space Force (FASF) emphasizes rapid responses. French aircraft are designed for agile response. They can project global power, such as deploying multiple Rafale fighters and multi-role tanker transports within hours.
FASF believes in “precision over mass,” using high-tech advanced sensors and specialized platforms like the Rafale. By maintaining very small fleets, they can handle technological upgrades and logistics better.
France favors swift, lethal, targeted actions over extended, nation-sapping campaigns. France is also actively pushing for longer-range air-to-air missiles to counter advanced peer competitors.
The FASF is participating in joint global deployments like Mission Pégase and multinational exercises like Tarang Shakti in India. They also regularly study partner experiences and the Indian Air Force’s (IAF) operational insights to refine modern combat tactics.
France is one of the few countries that builds entire aircraft domestically, reducing dependence and arm-twisting from larger powers like the USA.
French aircrews are heavily trained in dynamic, austere tactical approaches designed to operate in high-threat or completely unprepared environments.
French transport aircrews regularly qualify for tactical approaches onto unprepared surfaces like grass, dirt, and raw Arctic sea ice. French tactical air traffic controllers work alongside aircrews to coordinate stealthy, steep tactical descent profiles to avoid ground fire.
During transits, crews do not fly standard civilian airline tracks, instead simulate full tactical engagements, utilizing low-altitude terrain masking, defensive manoeuvring, and variable cockpit configurations.
The French take some of the most intensive approaches to joint crew mission debriefs, structured around a meticulous three-pronged framework: a specialized learning mode, learning structure, and learning culture. The goal is to seamlessly blend individual pilot progression with overall collective squadron performance, capitalizing directly on individual tactical mistakes to systematically update institutional knowledge.

The “Pégase” doctrine trains to rely less on massive permanent foreign bases and to demonstrate its aircrews’ ability to deploy multi-role Rafale fighters, A330 MRTT tankers, and A400M transports anywhere in a short time. FASF prioritizes decentralized command and empowering junior aircrew leaders with high autonomy to execute missions quickly inside an adversary’s OODA loop without waiting for centralized approvals.
From years of real combat experience and exercises with major global air forces, the Indian approach to air operations has fundamentally transformed, evolving from a traditional tactical army-support instrument into a highly lethal, multi-domain, strategic aerospace power.
Documented across successive IAF doctrines, India’s operational philosophy is dictated by unique regional geopolitics, primarily the two-front challenge of Pakistan and China, both with nuclear arms.
The IAF operates on a refined Western-style command philosophy tailored for high-tempo operations. IAF believes in centralized command, distributed control, and decentralized execution. While headquarters handle macro-level operational decision-making and resource allocation, local commanders retain execution autonomy to ensure flexibility, agility, and rapid responsiveness in highly dynamic environments.
Historically restrained, India’s modern operational blueprint emphasizes strategic coercion and escalation dominance through its “No-War-No-Peace” strategy. The IAF acknowledges a grey-zone interregnum between total peace and overt war. India mandates using air power as a deterrent instrument of statecraft, with selective tactical application to manage cross-border crises, without inevitably triggering full-scale escalations.
Unlike Western concepts that envision protracted air campaigns, the Indian leadership focuses on intense, precise, and swift achievement of objectives to decisively penalize an aggressor before international political pressures force a ceasefire. A clear plan for quick action and conflict termination.
Faced with advanced missile networks and drone saturation, India has fused its defensive and offensive architectures. IAF’s Integrated Air Command and Control System (IACCS) is the backbone of India’s air operations. IACCS aggregates data from satellites, AWACS, ground radars, and fighter sensors into a single, real-time digital picture. Systems like the indigenously developed Akashteer (Army) seamlessly mesh with the IAF’s IACCS.
This enables autonomous low-level airspace tracking and swift coordination between ground-based systems (like the S-400 and Akash missiles) and interceptor aircraft.
Air operations depend heavily on space for targeting, navigation, and early warning. This evolution has driven an official push to rename the service the Indian Air and Space Force (IASF) to solidify its cross-domain mandate.
Through large multilateral exercises like Exercise Tarang Shakti, the IAF tests its ability to plan and communicate alongside global air assets (such as the F-35, Rafale, and Su-30MKI), building the plug-and-play capability needed for coalition frameworks.
Driven by the national Make in India initiative, India is transitioning from “threat-based” procurement to a “capability-demanded” force structure. Operational planning actively favors indigenously produced platforms (like the Tejas fighter, Light Combat Helicopter, and SkyStriker loitering munitions) alongside advanced electronics, AI-driven sorting algorithms, and electronic warfare suites to ensure technological self-reliance during a prolonged crisis.
Indian aircrew balance high-stakes strategic execution with advanced technological adaptation across diverse geographical environments. Indian military aircrews operate in some of the world’s most unforgiving geographies, requiring specialized tactical approaches. Modern aircrew treat the air and space domains as a single continuum. Crew maintains readiness for both kinetic, punitive precision strikes and non-kinetic shaping operations.
Aircrew train for complete tri-service integration and multi-domain synergy. IAF and Army Aviation crews continuously practice high-tempo combined maneuvers, such as combat para-drops, fast-roping troops from Advanced Light Helicopters (ALH Dhruv), and deploying heavy underslung artillery via Chinook helicopters. Exercises like Yudh Abhyas and tri-service operations (Kargil, Operation Sindoor) train crews to blend air assets seamlessly with ground-based precision weapons, air defense grids, and electronic warfare units.
Indian crews train in agile combat employment, practicing approaches, controlled landings, and rapid departures from dual-use public infrastructure, such as national highway emergency landing strips. India’s aircrew approach leans heavily on simulation and advanced technical upgrades. Indian military crews have traditionally excelled in international air exercises and earned wide recognition.
The American personal and professional networking culture relies heavily on a mix of proactive communication, authenticity, and a “give-first” mindset.
They listen more than they speak, following a two-ears-to-one-mouth ratio to understand others’ needs.
They are sincere and unpretentious, avoid feigned interest, and build trust quickly. Successful professionals share resources, insights, and introductions freely without keeping an immediate score. They exhibit an upbeat, approachable demeanor and act as a social magnet.
They turn brief chats into long-lasting bonds. Once friendly, they enjoy drinks and laughs.
Russian networking culture relies heavily on deep, trusted inner circles and the traditional exchange of mutual favors, contrasting sharply with more superficial or transactional Western networking styles.
Initially, Russians are naturally suspicious or reserved toward strangers and people outside their immediate circle. Trust is not given automatically. It must be earned over time through repeated, honest interactions.
Once you are accepted into a Russian’s inner circle, the relationship becomes a deeply loyal, enduring bond marked by mutual support and strong personal generosity.
Russians value blunt honesty, clarity, and directness over polite small talk or excessive smiling, which they may view as insincere. They are open to leveraging personal connections to bypass bureaucratic hurdles or solve complex problems.
They love Indians and have watched portrayals of the underprivileged’s carefree, happy-go-lucky demeanor in Hindi movies from the 1950s to the 1980s. They will dance over shots of vodka, singing Hindi songs. Long “Hindi-Russi Bhai Bhai” speeches are always punctuated with shots of neat Vodka.
French personal networking relies on building deep, long-term trust, intellectual engagement, and strict boundaries between professional and personal life.
So don’t expect to be invited to someone’s home or meet their family until you’ve built a deep, multi-year relationship.
Unlike the transactional and rapid-fire approach often seen in Anglo-Saxon business cultures, the French value quality over quantity. First impressions are heavily anchored in respect and hierarchy.
The French value critical thinking and logic. Conversations with the French often turn into a discussion about industry trends, philosophy, or culture. Politely challenging ideas is not seen as rude.
The French love long lunches, paired with wine and cheese. They have a subtle sense of humor. With Indian aviators, they find common ground in the Mirage-2000 and Rafale.
Indians befriend everyone quickly. They can be loud. But they are great hosts and may overdo gifting.
A hug is a very natural way of greeting in India. Handshakes can be firm.
Finally, aviation has its own language. Aviators can get together and drive each other crazy with jokes, fun, laughter and mirth. In a bar, one can see all aviators ending up scissoring and locking their arms into combat maneuvers. Socializing is no less exciting than the air combat they did earlier in the day.
Tarang Shakti is about all this and more.
The post U.S. vs Russian vs French Air Force: How IAF Reads American Confidence, Russian Caution & French Autonomy appeared first on EURASIAN TIMES.
On 30 September, a Flydubai flight from Dubai to Tel Aviv with 174 people on board, the majority of them Israeli, encountered a dangerous “incident”. Mid-flight, the co-pilot allegedly stabbed the captain, Indian national Smit Machchhar, and may have tried to either crash or hijack the aircraft.
The aircraft plunged thousands of feet in seconds. As per reports, badly wounded Machchhar fought back and physically unlocked the cockpit door. The action has been called heroic, as Israeli passengers and an Emirati crew managed to enter the cockpit and take control of the plane and co-pilot, reportedly from Oman.
Relief pilots on board helped land the plane safely in Tabuk, Saudi Arabia.
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu was among the first to name Machchhar: “My salute to the Indian pilot Captain Smit Machchhar for his extraordinary bravery. Despite being stabbed and seriously injured, he fought back, resisted, opened the cockpit door, and enabled passengers and crew to overpower the attacker — preventing a catastrophic mid-air disaster. He saved the lives of 174 people, including Israeli citizens and other nationals. I wish Captain Machchhar a speedy and full recovery. He is a true hero.”
Israel’s Foreign Ministry went further, explicitly listing the three nationalities: “This man is a hero. Captain Smit Machchhar, the Indian captain of flydubai Flight 1073, fought back after being stabbed in the cockpit. Despite being severely injured, he managed to unlock the cockpit door — allowing Israeli passengers and the Emirati crew to intervene and save all the passengers. Together, their extraordinary courage saved 174 lives. Indian. Israeli. Emirati. Different nationalities. One extraordinary act of courage. We wish Captain Machchhar a full and speedy recovery.”
Israel’s ambassador to India, Reuven Azar, wrote: “Together with Israeli, Indian and UAE nations, I pray for the life of Captain Smit Machchhar, the experienced and gifted hero Indian pilot of flydubai flight FZ1073. His courage & the courage of other Israeli & Emirati passengers & crew members saved the lives of 180 souls. United against terrorism!”
Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi replied in kind: “Captain Smit Machchhar is a HERO. In the face of the gravest danger and despite being seriously injured, he showed immense courage and an unwavering resolve to protect the lives of others. His valour helped save hundreds of lives and avert a great tragedy. India is proud of Captain Machchhar. Praying for his speedy recovery, renewed strength and good health.”
The Embassy of India in Israel added: “A resounding salute to Captain Smit Machchhar, the brave Indian pilot of flight FZ1073! Despite sustaining injuries in an extraordinary and challenging situation, Captain Machchhar displayed remarkable courage, composure and devotion to duty, helping ensure the safety of everyone on board.”

Sheikh Abdullah bin Zayed Al Nahyan, UAE Deputy Prime Minister and Foreign Minister, called his Israeli counterpart Gideon Sa’ar, inquired about the passengers’ safety, expressed wishes for their well-being, and discussed strengthening bilateral relations. Saar later said the two had expressed “mutual determination… to strengthen relations between the countries on all levels and to collaborate against extremist elements seeking to harm security and undermine stability in the region.”
Flydubai described an “altercation” on the flight deck, said on-duty crew traveling as passengers secured the aircraft, and urged against “premature speculation” while investigations continue. The UAE’s General Civil Aviation Authority called it a “security incident.”
US President Donald Trump, after speaking with Netanyahu, called Machchhar a hero who was “in very bad shape” yet managed to open the door and called for help.
Passengers who rushed the cockpit shared firsthand information. Yaniv Hayoun, who later met Netanyahu still wearing a blood-stained shirt, said: “When I went in, I saw the terrorist on the controls, between the two seats. There were no pilots in the seats. I grabbed the terrorist, put him in a hold, and first of all pulled him outside.” He added that he then took the controls: “I watch Air Crash Investigation, Mr Prime Minister.”
Zvika Manes described tying the attacker “with his own zip ties and with the multimedia headphones” and said, “I’m covered in blood. It was insane.” Others spoke of “terrible screams,” a plane that “was simply diving and spinning like crazy,” and the feeling that “September 11 is happening again.” Several credited “miracles” and the Indian captain’s last effort to open the door.
Interestingly, the day before the flight, Netanyahu said Israel had “indications that, ahead of the elections, our enemies will try to attack us,” without naming anyone.
Opposition leader Yair Lapid, after a security briefing that night, said there was “no reason to put the public in a panic” and that security threats should not be used in election messaging.
Security officials told Hebrew media they knew of no specific attack threat.
After Flydubai FZ1073 diverted, Lapid wrote: “Nothing even resembling this morning’s plane incident appeared in the security briefing with the prime minister last night. Nothing similar, nothing reminiscent of it, not even a hint.”
He later called the airport reception “cheap politics” and accused government-aligned voices of hitching “a pathetic ride on heroic Israelis.”
Netanyahu told CNN the warning was “not specifically” about this flight. Asked about Iran, he said it was too early to say and that Israel would join the probe.
Jackson Hinkle, who has about 3.8 million followers, posted the version that drew the widest reach: “Netanyahu expected to lose election. He’s still facing 7 criminal charges. He takes a trip to the UAE this week. He returns to Israel after 6 hour meeting. He warns of terror plot before elections. Iranians respond saying they are not planning attack & Netanyahu is just trying to cancel the elections. 24 hours later flight FZ1073 takes off from UAE to Israel. Attempted hijacking & 9/11-style terrorist attack on flight. Israeli special ops on board thwart attack. Netanyahu immediately convenes security cabinet meeting. All too predictable…”
Max Blumenthal, editor of The Grayzone, wrote: “When Benjamin Netanyahu and his Likud ally and Defense Minister Israel Katz instantly blamed jihadist terror for the FlyDubai incident, they drowned out an initial assessment by IDF Chief of Staff Eyal Zamir and his top commanders that ruled out hijacking as the motive behind the altercation… Even Donald Trump is entertaining doubt, proclaiming that the stabber was ‘perhaps a terrorist or a wack job.’ ‘This is the story that I heard. I don’t know if it’s true,’ Trump added… The FlyDubai incident was absolutely fortuitous for Netanyahu… In the midst of his most consequential and likely final campaign for re-election, Netanyahu is essentially taking credit for an Entebbe sequel.”
George Galloway, former British MP, titled a monologue “A false, false flag day” and wrote: “Iran is going to be blamed for what didn’t happen at Fairford and what didn’t become the new 9/11… And bye bye Fly Dubai.” The post pairs the flight with a separate UK incident and treats both as blame aimed at Iran.
James Li, an independent journalist, said: “Jihad terror or false flag? Sticking to just the facts of the FlyDubai attempted hijacking, the biggest red flag that Israel must answer for is how a pilot who has no authorization to fly that airplane was able to thwart multiple layers of security, and bring an axe to boot?”
Kim Iversen: “I’m NOT buying it.”
Daily Iran News, on the passenger who said he learned recovery from a TV series: “If you believe this story, you better get a shrink.”
Fox News posted Netanyahu’s Hannity interview without endorsing a conspiracy reading. Trump’s own line, widely reposted, was: “I don’t know if it’s true, but that’s the story I got from Bibi.”
No one has been able to stop conspiracy theorists and their wild imaginations.
The Flydubai posts began within about an hour of the emergency signal, before Saudi investigators questioned the co-pilot, before the airline described anything beyond an “altercation,” and before the Indian embassy confirmed that Captain Machchhar was in a Tabuk hospital.
Hinkle’s timeline, Iversen’s “I’m NOT buying it,” Galloway’s “false, false flag day,” and thousands of smaller posts did not wait for investigations; they used the election date and Netanyahu’s warning the day before.
Within hours of the 11 September 2001 attacks, posts and later films claimed the US had staged or allowed the hijackings, with many even blaming Israel.
The 2008 Mumbai attacks were called a false flag in parts of the Pakistani press and on social media, despite the gunmen’s admission and the subsequent trial.
The 2019 Pulwama (Kashmir) suicide bombing was described by some Pakistani officials and online accounts as an Indian set-up. After 7 October 2023, a parallel claim held that Israel had known in advance, stood down, or staged the Hamas assault to justify the war in Gaza.
The same pattern followed the 2015 Paris attacks, the 2016 Nice truck attack, and, in India, the 2001 Parliament attack. In each case, the theory arrived before any official report.
It appears a false-flag script is always ready when countries like India or Israel are involved. The UAE sits in the same frame: it is a close partner of both, and the Dubai–Tel Aviv route exists only because of that alignment.
Had the aircraft crashed, the same accounts would have lambasted the pilot and run headlines like “Indian Pilot Crashes Emirati Aircraft Full of Israeli Passengers”, to sow discord among the three allies.
Thank God, all are Safe!
The post “Indian Pilot Crashes UAE Jet Full of Israelis” — The Headline That Would Have Run, Had Machchhar Not Fought Back: OPED appeared first on EURASIAN TIMES.