The Tejas fighter crashing during its display at the Dubai Air Show has set off a wave of discussion that goes far beyond the immediate tragedy. The video is difficult to watch. The aircraft comes in low for a manoeuvre, suddenly loses stability, dips, and then the fireball erupts across the tarmac. The Indian Air Force later confirmed that the pilot did not survive and that a formal inquiry would determine what actually went wrong. Accidents happen in every air force and no single crash should be used to judge an entire programme. But the backdrop in which this crash occurred makes it difficult to treat as just an unfortunate incident. A jet that represents India’s national ambition for an indigenous aviation future fell on one of the world’s biggest air stages at a moment when India’s own military leadership has been publicly expressing discomfort about the condition of the defence ecosystem that built it.
General Anil Chauhan, India’s Chief of Defence Staff, said on 6 November that the defence industry must “be truthful, patriotic, and deliver on time.” He warned that exaggerated indigenisation claims, missed deadlines, and rising costs were beginning to undermine India’s national security posture. These were not remarks spoken casually. They reflected impatience building inside the armed forces after years of dealing with programmes that overpromised and underdelivered. Just a few months earlier, the Air Force Chief said something that struck many analysts as unusually honest. He said that when the Air Force signs contracts, “we know systems will never come.” That sentence landed heavily because it showed that the IAF itself does not expect timely delivery for critical equipment even at the moment of procurement. When you place that mindset next to the image of the Tejas burning in Dubai, the moment begins to feel symbolic of deeper structural issues.
Those structural issues are visible across India’s fighter inventory and they have become sharper this year. Pakistan shot down Indian aircrafts in May 2025 during a brief confrontation, a loss later acknowledged by Indian generals. India was simultaneously retiring its MiG 21 fleet, a platform originally built in the 1950s and long criticised as unsafe. The retirement of these jets has brought India down to about twenty nine fighter squadrons, far below the authorised forty two. By comparison, Pakistan fields around twenty five squadrons and China maintains approximately sixty six. In absolute numbers, India has around 522 fighters, Pakistan roughly 450, and China close to 1,200. These numbers do not describe doctrine or pilot skill, but they highlight the pressure India is facing. The gap that Tejas was meant to help close remains wide.
And Tejas itself has been a long and difficult journey. The indigenous Light Combat Aircraft programme was launched in 1983. Over forty years later, only thirty eight Tejas Mk1A fighters have been inducted. The 2021 order for eighty three additional aircraft remains unfulfilled. India recently approved a roughly 7.2 billion dollar contract for ninety seven more Mk1A units to replace aging MiG 21 jets. But even this new plan depends on American GE engines that have been delayed due to supply chain problems. HAL has said repeatedly that it cannot accelerate production without those engines, and the Air Force continues to wait. Even in the best case, if HAL manages twenty jets a year, it will take nearly nine years to complete deliveries of 180 aircraft. And if the production rate rises to thirty aircraft a year, it would still take at least seven years. Several retired officers have pointed out that by the time these jets arrive, the Mk1A could feel outdated as global aviation rapidly evolves.
The medium-weight Tejas Mk2, which is supposed to provide greater payload and endurance, has not rolled out prototype yet. India’s planned fifth-generation stealth fighter, the AMCA, has been announced and showcased in models, but operational induction is not expected before 2035. That date sits uncomfortably against the regional landscape because China is already testing sixth-generation demonstrators while Pakistan might receive J-35 stealth aircraft from China. These developments do not automatically determine any future conflict, but they illustrate the speed at which the regional balance is shifting. Timelines and delays shows India is losing air superiority in the region.
This is why the Tejas crash feels heavier than a typical aviation accident. It does not mean the aircraft is inherently unsafe; however, such incident in an international airshow, it does not boost confidence. It also does not mean India’s scientists cannot innovate. What it does is cast a spotlight on India’s defence planning structure, which has been slow, fragmented, and often burdened by bureaucracy. A CAG audit report presented in Parliament pointed out persistent delays in the completion of inquiries, outdated planning cycles, and gaps in capability development. Even seemingly administrative problems eventually shape operational safety, training patterns, and fleet readiness.
India’s push for strategic autonomy has also become more complicated. New Delhi has long aimed to reduce dependence on foreign suppliers, but the reality is that the country remains heavily reliant on external partners for engines, sensors, avionics, and advanced materials. The Tejas cannot fly without American engines. Many key systems continue to be imported. A Foreign Affairs article argued that India may not yet be prepared to compete with China on advanced military technology and will therefore continue depending on Western inputs for high-end platforms. This observation echoes what Indian officials themselves have acknowledged in more cautious terms.
India’s relationship with the United States adds further complexity. Former President Donald Trump once floated the idea of selling F 35 jets to India. Delhi did not pursue it, likely due to concerns over cost, technology restrictions, and strategic autonomy. The relationship then deteriorated, tariffs were imposed, and the possibility faded quickly. While recently India signed 10 years defense pact with the United States, the underlying tension between autonomy and dependence remains unresolved. Delhi wants the freedom to design and produce its own systems, but it still requires Western engines, transmissions, and advanced sensors to meet critical timelines.
All of these threads converge when looking at the Tejas burning in Dubai. The accident will have a technical explanation, and investigators will find it. But the deeper story is not technical. It is structural. It is about an air force stretched thin, an industrial base that has not kept pace with the region, a planning system struggling to meet deadlines, and a strategic environment that is moving faster than India’s procurement cycle. India is trying to modernise while simultaneously reducing reliance on foreign suppliers. These goals may be achievable in the long term, but the pace at which they are unfolding has created a vulnerability that is becoming increasingly visible.
The questions raised by the Tejas crash are not new. They are the same questions India’s own senior officers have been asking. Why do delivery timelines slip year after year. Why do prototypes arrive late or remain incomplete. Why does the Air Force enter procurement cycles already expecting delays. Why does the squadron strength continue to fall faster than replacements can arrive. Why do indigenisation projects take decades without producing the volume required. And why does the regional balance keep shifting while India’s programmes remain stuck in slow motion.
The crash in Dubai cannot answer these questions, but it brings them into sharper focus. India has diagnosed its own problems again and again through the Air Force leadership, through the CDS, through its auditors, and through independent experts. What remains uncertain is whether the system can respond quickly enough, because the gap between ambition and capability is no longer theoretical. It is visible on the airfield, in the production line, and now, in the wreckage of a jet meant to represent a new era.
Author: Nimra Javed, Research Officer at Center for International Strategic Studies, AJK.
