Did we lose aircraft? Should we admit it? When? Answering questions raised by CDS’ admission

File photo of Chief of Defence Staff (CDS) General Anil Chauhan | Praveen Jain | ThePrint

There has been much kolaveri over the remarks made by CDS General Anil Chauhan. While speaking to Bloomberg TV on the sidelines of the Shangri-La Dialogue in Singapore, the Chief of Defence Staff admitted to certain losses of Indian aircraft during Operation Sindoor. This has set the proverbial cat among the pigeons. Accusations and accolades are both flying thick and fast.

There were oblique references to losses in air combat on 6/7 May, during a briefing by the DG Air Ops (Air Marshal Awadhesh Kumar Bharti). However, this remark by the CDS—although he declined to give exact numbers—would count as the first official admission of our own attrition in the air.

This has led to a very public, very vociferous, and occasionally very acrimonious debate on the subject. The questions being debated are: Did we lose aircraft? If we did, should we admit it? If yes, how soon? Does losing more aircraft than the other side mean a tactical defeat?

The losses and the analysis

In all likelihood, we did lose some aircraft. The exact number and the causes would be revealed by the Indian Air Force (IAF), should they choose to. All losses are studied in great detail. The IAF would be examining everything—from tactics, network synergy, weapon load, and rules of engagement to crew training. Which weapon caused the damage—whether surface-to-air or air-to-air—will form a part of that analysis. The possibility of friendly fire will also be examined.

While the Pakistan Air Force (PAF) claimed it downed six Indian aircraft, they have failed to provide any evidence other than a sleazy presentation and social media posts. The PAF claims all ‘kills’ were air-to-air and credits the Chinese-made PL15 BVR missile. However, that may not be the case, considering a few of the PL 15s were found almost intact in our territory. A missile that fails to self-destruct at the end of its cruise phase is certainly not the ‘best in the world’ as claimed by our adversary. Their claims are speculative. At this stage, they are not aware which of their tactics-weapon combinations worked and which did not. Therefore, it does not make tactical and operational sense to clear this confusion for them by revealing our losses, if any.

In my opinion, the citizen has a vested right to know. That includes accurate information on how well or poorly our armed forces performed in war. However, that right is tempered with caution and is measured against the needs of national security, which takes precedence over all rights. Hopefully, when the dust finally settles on this episode, we will receive all the information.

Attrition in air warfare

For people not familiar with the planning and structuring of an air campaign against a peer competitor, the loss of our own aircraft might come as a surprise. However, despite advances in weaponry and sensors, air forces around the world cater for attrition in air war, especially in the early hours, when you fly into a hornet’s nest.

The first wave of airstrikes during Operation Sindoor was carried out under some very exacting circumstances. Our strikers were operating under very restrictive rules of engagements, against an adversary that was pre-warned and well-armed. SEAD and DEAD missions that typically form the first phase of any air campaign were not carried out, as per the larger political directive limiting strikes to terror infrastructure and avoiding military targets. Surprise, a factor that usually favours the raiders, was missing in this case. On the other hand, the PAF flung a technical surprise on us by launching data-linked BVR missiles at extreme ranges. As admitted by the CDS, the IAF was quick to draw lessons and went back up in air in the subsequent days.

Some have misunderstood or even deliberately misconstrued the CDS’s statement to mean that after incurring losses on the first day, the IAF was grounded for two days. Nothing could be further from the truth. While the tactics were being reviewed and electronic threat libraries were being updated, India maintained pressure on terrorist infrastructure in PoK. Limited strikes by Rafale and BrahMos-armed Su-30s were carried out on 8/9 May. Air defence combat air patrols (AD CAP) were maintained in the air around the clock, and backup missions were ready on the ground. An aggressive posture was maintained by our surface-to-air missiles (SAMs), threatening aerial activity deep inside Pakistan. The Indian military also had to contend with non-stop drone attacks on multiple locations, most of which were foiled. Dedicated SEAD/DEAD missions were undertaken on 8/9 May to degrade Pakistan’s ability to defend its airspace. Based on political directions, escalation was controlled and some room was created to give Pakistan an off-ramp- DGMO (India) offered Pakistan an exit option, which was declined.

In response to Pakistan’s launch of Operation Bunyan al-Marsoos on 10 May, the IAF conducted retaliatory precision strikes on multiple targets across the length and breadth of Pakistan. The damage caused by the IAF’s air-delivered munitions was seen by the entire world, courtesy of the satellite images that were widely shared. The IAF rose to challenge the PAF’s hubris with an updated game plan. Electronics were tweaked, formations were rearranged, weapons were matched to the targets, and the IAF was not constrained by any restrictive ROE. The orders were clear: shoot to kill. The much-touted J10C and PL15 combo failed to bring down any of our jets. These aircraft were operating deep inside Pakistan’s airspace and failed to launch even a single BVR, which just a day prior had been celebrated as a 300-km-long stick.

Operation Bunyan al-Marsoos collapsed within eight hours on 10 May due to India’s counterstrikes, which destroyed Pakistani morale besides destroying their assets. Pakistan sought a ceasefire through US mediation.

Counting wins, not losses

In a war, you count your wins by counting missions that were successful and not by counting damaged assets. Certain historical events corroborate this argument.

The Israeli Air Force (IsAF) was pitted against the combined air power of Egypt and Syria in the Yom Kippur War (October 6–25, 1973). Although the Arabs had a greater number of aircraft, Israel enjoyed a significant technical edge in air power. The IsAF was also considered to be better trained, as it frequently exercised with Western air forces. Despite these advantages, the IsAF’s losses in the first 12 hours were staggering: thirty A-4s, six Phantoms, and four Super Mystères were downed.

The IsAF decided on an operational pause, took a hard look at its tactics, revised them, and went up again. The IsAF adjusted its tactics to minimise exposure to SAMs and anti-aircraft artillery. Dedicated SEAD/DEAD missions were flown, occasionally in coordination with ground-based artillery fire. In the following days, the IsAF gained and maintained control of the air. The outcome of the war is a well-known historical fact, and the crucial role played by the IsAF is also widely acknowledged.

This example, along with the employment of Indian air power during Operation Sindoor, proves a point: despite the great care taken during planning, attrition in air war is unavoidable. These examples also tell us that an eventual victory is decided not merely by tallying losses incurred on both sides but by comparing mission success rates.

In sum, wars are dirty business. Despite all the advances achieved by mankind, wars remain a primordial contest. Modern weapons have changed the face of war but not the nature of war. In wars, equipment will be damaged, and lives will be lost. Victory, however, will be measured against the degree to which the objectives—or “conditions of termination”—set forth before the campaign were achieved. In that regard, Operation Sindoor was a resounding victory for Indian air power.

Group Captain Ajay Ahlawat is a retired IAF fighter pilot. He tweets @Ahlawat2012. Views are personal.

(Edited by Prashant)