When one compares the current trajectory of defence modernisation in Asia’s two largest nations, the divergence is striking. China has quietly channelled an estimated $43 billion into the development of indigenous aero-engine programmes. In stark contrast, India is occupied with justifying a $30–40 billion proposal to import 114 Rafale fighter jets from France, even though the aircraft has faced criticism for long-standing subsystem delays and performance debates. The contrast not only reflects two very different strategic mindsets but also exposes the vulnerabilities India risks entrenching for decades to come.
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| China's stealth H-20 Bomber |
China’s Relentless Pursuit of Engine Independence
For decades, China’s aerospace industry was considered an imitator rather than an innovator. Its early fighters heavily relied on reverse-engineering Soviet designs, and its engines in particular were plagued with reliability issues. Chinese combat aircraft often had respectable airframes and electronics but were hobbled by imported Russian propulsion systems.
Recognising this fundamental weakness, Beijing made an extraordinary decision: to treat the aero-engine problem as a national priority project. Estimates suggest nearly $43 billion has been funnelled into the sector, involving state enterprises such as Aero Engine Corporation of China (AECC), which now coordinates dozens of facilities, research centres, and suppliers.
This investment is not about building a single model. It is a comprehensive industrial ecosystem aimed at producing a family of reliable turbofans across all thrust categories—from training aircraft and drones to fifth-generation stealth fighters and heavy bombers.
The immediate result is already visible. Fighters such as the J-20 Mighty Dragon and the J-31 Gyrfalcon are beginning to operate with indigenous powerplants rather than Russian imports. While there are still teething problems, Beijing’s long-term approach ensures that every yuan spent builds domestic intellectual property, scientific expertise, and supply chain maturity. The Chinese leadership knows that strategic independence rests on propulsion—without control over engines, a nation cannot field a modern air force on its own terms.
India’s Contrasting Path: Dependence on Imports
India’s case is markedly different. The current debate revolves around a mammoth tender for 114 Multi-Role Fighter Aircraft (MRFA), with the Rafale expected to emerge as the frontrunner. The deal, if it goes through, would cost anywhere between $30 and $40 billion, making it one of the largest defence acquisitions in Indian history.
This is not India’s first tryst with the Rafale. In 2016, New Delhi signed a contract for 36 aircraft, a deal surrounded by fierce political controversy. Supporters hailed it as a capability booster, but critics pointed to high costs, offset clauses that did not materialise as promised, and a troubling dependence on foreign suppliers for critical spares and technology.
What makes the current pursuit concerning is not merely the scale of expenditure, but the lack of parallel investment in indigenous propulsion or design programmes. India’s own attempts at developing a domestic fighter engine—the Kaveri project—have languished for decades, suffering from chronic underfunding, delays, and shifting priorities. Instead of treating this as a technological bottleneck worthy of national mobilisation, successive governments have largely relegated it to the background while emphasising immediate imports.
The Rafale, though a capable aircraft, is not without its problems. Multiple European audits and open-source reports have pointed to delays in integrating subsystems such as the Spectra electronic warfare suite, helmet-mounted displays, and even the Meteor missile in its earliest phases. These are not catastrophic flaws, but they reveal a platform that is not immune to developmental hiccups.
By pouring $30–40 billion into expanding the Rafale fleet, India risks tying up enormous sums of taxpayer money into a system whose critical technologies remain outside its sovereign control. Every spare part, every upgrade, and every software patch will remain contingent on French industry and political goodwill.
This dependence extends beyond mere economics. In times of crisis, foreign suppliers may face their own political calculations. Should France ever face pressure from allies or rivals, India’s frontline air power could be indirectly constrained by factors entirely outside its control. In essence, India would be paying billions not for independence, but for managed dependency.
The core difference between China and India lies in time horizons.
China has chosen the harder path: decades of painful investment, slow progress, and technological risk-taking in the aerospace sector. The rewards are not immediate, but the eventual outcome is a sustainable ecosystem that guarantees Beijing freedom of action. Even if Chinese engines are initially inferior to Western counterparts, the steady learning curve ensures eventual parity.
India, by contrast, has chosen the convenient route: rely on imports to plug operational gaps quickly. It satisfies immediate requirements of squadron strength and deterrence but does little to build domestic capability. The cycle repeats with every major tender—Mirage in the 1980s, Sukhoi in the 1990s, and now Rafale in the 2020s. Each time, billions flow abroad, while Indian engineers remain underutilised.
Lessons Ignored: The Kaveri Experience
India’s Kaveri engine project under the Gas Turbine Research Establishment (GTRE) began in the 1980s with the promise of powering the Light Combat Aircraft (LCA) Tejas. After years of delays and cost overruns, the project was effectively shelved, with Tejas relying on imported GE F404 engines.
Rather than doubling down on fixing the bottlenecks, India allowed the programme to stagnate. The contrast with China is telling. Where Beijing poured in tens of billions, India allocated only modest sums, often cut midway due to bureaucratic reshuffles or shifting political priorities. The result: India today has no indigenous fighter engine in service.
The consequences of this neglect go beyond aviation. Aerospace engine technology has dual-use applications in civil aviation, space exploration, and industrial turbines. By underinvesting in this sector, India is not just compromising its military independence but also its potential to develop high-value civilian industries.
Furthermore, dependence on foreign imports drains foreign exchange and reduces bargaining power. France or any other supplier knows that once India is locked into a platform, switching costs become prohibitive. This entrenches a cycle where India repeatedly pays premium prices without securing true autonomy.
What India Can Learn
India does not lack talent. Its scientists, engineers, and software experts are globally recognised. What it lacks is consistent political will and long-term investment. To break the cycle, New Delhi must:
Elevate propulsion to a national mission, akin to the nuclear or space programmes.
Allocate sustained funding, measured not in hundreds of millions but in tens of billions over decades.
Forge international partnerships for co-development, not just purchase, ensuring technology absorption.
Insulate projects from political cycles, creating an institutional framework that persists across governments.
Only then can India hope to close the gap.
Conclusion: A Tale of Two Futures
China’s $43 billion investment in indigenous engine programmes represents a wager on strategic autonomy. It is not glamorous, and it does not deliver immediate headlines, but it builds a foundation that will serve Beijing for decades.
India, meanwhile, stands at a crossroads. It can continue to pursue the short-term comfort of importing Rafale jets at $30–40 billion, thereby outsourcing its future security. Or it can confront the difficult truth: without engines of its own, no nation can ever claim air power independence.
The choice is not merely financial. It is civilisational. Will India invest in itself as China has, or will it remain a lucrative customer in the global arms bazaar? The answer will shape not just its military future but its very sovereignty in the decades to come.