By Mahesh Rathi
During the recent Parliament session, Prime Minister Narendra Modi addressed the United States–Israel attack on Iran. What stood out, however, was not what he said—but what he chose not to say. There was no condemnation of the attack, no reference to the killing of Iran’s Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamenei, and no acknowledgment of the hundreds of innocent schoolchildren reportedly killed in Israeli strikes. Nor was there any mention of the continuing devastation in Gaza.
This silence cannot be dismissed as diplomatic caution. It reflects something deeper: a foreign policy orientation that increasingly aligns itself with American strategic priorities, often at the cost of India’s own independent voice.
This trajectory did not emerge overnight. Its roots go back to the early years of the Modi government. Yet, it became particularly visible during the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, when India swiftly reversed its ban on hydroxychloroquine exports following pressure from then US President Donald Trump.
Similarly, in 2019, US sanctions on Iran compelled India to scale back its engagement with the strategically vital Chabahar port and shift towards more expensive oil imports. Despite the economic and strategic implications, the Indian government refrained from publicly contesting these pressures. Compliance appeared to become routine rather than exceptional.
Former US National Security Advisor John Bolton, in his memoir The Room Where It Happened, recounts how India ultimately acquiesced to US sanctions despite initial concerns. Trump reportedly brushed aside those concerns with confidence—and events unfolded much as he predicted.
By 2026, what was once implicit has become explicit. In a February trade arrangement, the United States reportedly secured India’s commitment to reduce or halt Russian oil imports, with provisions for American monitoring. Such terms go beyond the framework of a conventional trade agreement; they signal a hierarchical relationship in which policy space is constrained by external oversight.
Further clarity came in March 2026, when US Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent publicly remarked that India had been “very good” at following American directives, while announcing a limited waiver allowing temporary purchases of Russian oil. Statements of this nature, unusually candid in diplomatic discourse, underline a shifting balance in bilateral relations.
At major international forums, the ideological framing has also sharpened. At the Munich Security Conference, US Secretary of State Marco Rubio described the era of Western expansionism in notably favourable terms, while emphasizing the need for renewed American leadership. Around the same time, US Deputy Secretary of State Christopher Landau signalled that Washington would not “repeat its China mistake” with India—an indication that India’s rise would be carefully managed rather than unconditionally supported.
India’s energy policy provides a clear illustration of this evolving dynamic. Following the Russia–Ukraine conflict, India pragmatically increased its imports of discounted Russian oil, significantly reducing costs and stabilizing supply. However, under mounting US pressure, these imports reportedly declined by early 2026.
The situation became even more telling when geopolitical tensions in West Asia led to disruptions in the Strait of Hormuz. In response, the United States extended a limited, time-bound exemption allowing India to access certain energy supplies. In effect, a critical pillar of national security—energy access—became contingent on external approval.
Diplomacy is often conveyed as much through presence as through words. Just days before the attack on Iran, Prime Minister Modi was engaged in high-profile engagements in Israel. While such visits are not unusual in themselves, their timing inevitably carries symbolic weight.
Meanwhile, long-standing strategic projects such as the Chabahar port—intended to expand India’s connectivity to Central Asia—have seen reduced emphasis, even as alternative corridors aligned with US priorities gain traction. These shifts suggest a recalibration of India’s strategic map.
Domestically, the government continues to emphasize themes such as Atmanirbhar Bharat (self-reliant India) and the vision of India as a Vishwaguru (global leader). Yet, these narratives sit uneasily alongside an international posture marked by caution, accommodation, and selective silence.
The sovereignty of a nation is not measured by domestic rhetoric but by its ability to say “no”—to condemn unjust wars, to protect its investments, and to determine its own energy policy. On all these counts, India’s strategic autonomy in 2026 is rapidly becoming a myth.
The dream of becoming a “Vishwaguru”—an India that writes the rules of the global order rather than merely following them—is fading. In its place, another reality is emerging, where an American official can openly say, “What we say, India does”—and the Indian government has nothing to respond with. This silence, more than any policy document, defines India’s real position today.
Meanwhile, the US, through its leaders, has made it clear that it sees India as a “subordinate ally.” The Indian government has not only failed to challenge this position but has accepted it.
It increasingly appears that India is gradually becoming an instrument of the “Make America Great Again” project, where its foreign policy, energy security, defense procurement, and even its international rhetoric will be guided by Washington’s signals. This is not the path of becoming a self-respecting sovereign nation, but the road toward becoming a colony of American imperialism. The record of silence and surrender by the Modi government clearly indicates that it has chosen this path. (IPA Service)
