WEAPON HAWKERS' GAIN, INDIA'S PAIN

HE fuel of wealth is power. For centuries, empires justified conquest in the name of civilisation.

- PRABHU CHAWLA

HE fuel of wealth is power. For centuries, empires justified conquest in the name of civilisation. In the 20th century, war became a business—refined, repackaged, and sold by the industrial elite in boardrooms far removed from trenches and bomb sites. The modern deep state is the inheritor of empires; but is more efficient, more cynical. Its battlefield is the global economy; its weapon is legislation.

Born in the Cold War, matured during the War on Terror, it now thrives in a digital age where death is outsourced and war is automated. Drone by drone, missile by missile, budget by bloated budget, it sustains itself—not on peace, but on the permanent preparation for war. Today, it dominates the algorithmic age where war is a stock market event. Its shadowy titans brand conflict in sleek presentations, launched with hash tags, and measured in percentage gains. Drones hum over villages while markets hum with profit.

India stands at a historic crossroads—its economy ascendant, its global clout undeniable, its society eager for peace and prosperity. Yet, even now, the massacre of innocent tourists at Pahalgam by Pakistani terrorists and Operation Sindoor proved the spectre of war is never ending. India—rising, proud, and determined to defend itself—finds itself ensnared in this machinery. For India, war has never been an option. It has always been thrust upon her by a failed neighbour.

In 2025, New Delhi allocated a staggering $75 billion to defence—13.45 percent of its total budget. A necessary shield, some argue, at a time when terrorism strikes from the shadows, and enemies like Lashkar-e-Toiba still sow fear, as they did with the brutal killing of 26 civilians in Pahalgam on April 22. In retaliation, India launched Operation Sindoor, deploying drones and missiles in a precise counter-offensive against terror camps across the border.