Paradox of India’s S-400 deal—key asset delayed when country needs it most

New Delhi’s growing optimism around the delivery of the two remaining S-400 air defence systems belies the long and complicated journey of the deal.

File photo of Russia's S-400 Triumf multi-layered air defence system | Photo: Snehesh Alex Philip | ThePrint

On the sidelines of the otherwise contentious Shanghai Cooperation Organisation summit in Qingdao, a quiet yet significant development unfolded. India was once again assured by Russia of the timely delivery of the remaining two S-400 Triumf air defence systems. Russian defence minister Andrei Belousov himself communicated this to his Indian counterpart Rajnath Singh, offering some comfort to New Delhi’s strategic planners. Indian media outlets covered the commitment with cautious relief.

The S-400 systems, which form the outermost layer of India’s integrated air defence shield, have proven particularly effective during Operation Sindoor. They successfully integrated with domestically developed platforms like the Akash surface-to-air missiles, L-70 anti-aircraft guns, and indigenous drones. Unsurprisingly, there is a growing consensus within India’s strategic community that New Delhi must not only complete the current S-400 procurement but also explore future acquisitions, possibly including the more advanced S-500 systems.

However, this optimism belies the long and complicated journey of the S-400 deal. Signed in 2018 at a value of $5.43 billion, the agreement was initially hailed as a bold assertion of India’s strategic autonomy, especially during the Trump administration. In 2020, NATO ally Turkey faced sanctions under CAATSA (Countering America’s Adversaries Through Sanctions Act) for pursuing the same system. India had escaped US sanctions, a testament to its rising importance in the evolving Indo-Pacific calculus.

Yet, what was once a symbol of defiance and diplomatic balance has now become a victim of President Putin’s protracted war in Ukraine.

Originally scheduled for delivery between 2021 and 2023, the first three S-400 systems did arrive by late 2021. The remaining two, however, remain undelivered as Russia’s war in Ukraine enters its fourth year, with no clear end in sight. The timeline has repeatedly slipped.

There are at least four critical factors behind these delays, which highlight both vulnerabilities and priorities of the Russian defence sector, as well as the geopolitical complexities surrounding Moscow’s partnerships.

1. Russia’s battlefield losses

Russia has suffered significant material losses in Ukraine. While propaganda from both sides makes verification difficult, independent monitoring groups like Oryx have documented that at least 12 S-400 systems have been partially or completely destroyed. This is significant, given the S-400’s role as the backbone of Russia’s long-range air defence, with more than 30 regiments reportedly in service.

The S-400 is vital for safeguarding Russia’s expansive territory—particularly as its military posture faces new threats from NATO’s rejuvenated eastern flank. If Russia is short on operational systems, it is far more likely to divert new production toward replenishing its own arsenals than fulfilling export obligations.

To understand how important the S-400 programme is for Russia, we must look back at its roots. Revitalised around 2000 under President Putin, the programme was part of a broader effort to restore Russia’s defence industrial base and resuscitate its economy. A state-backed investment drive led to the expansion of three major production hubs: Obukhov Plant in St Petersburg, the Avitek Plant in Kirov, and the NMP Plant in Nizhny Novgorod. These efforts bore fruit by 2016, enabling large-scale production of the S-400 as well as newer systems like the S-300V4 and S-500.

In January 2023, Putin even visited the Obukhovsky Plant, publicly claiming that Russia’s surface-to-air missile production exceeded the combined output of the rest of the world. Yet, India hasn’t received its remaining systems over the last two years—a telling contradiction.

2. Collapse of Russian weapon exports

Data supports this broader trend. According to SIPRI, Russian arms exports declined by 64 per cent between 2020 and 2024 compared to the previous five-year period. Even starker, Kazakhstan-based outlet Arbat Media reported that Russian weapon exports shrank by 92 per cent between 2021 and the end of 2024, falling to below $1 billion annually—a staggering fourteenfold drop. While the SIPRI figures span a longer horizon, Arbat’s data focuses specifically on the war years, offering a more immediate sense of Russia’s commercial collapse.

Therefore, the correlation is not ill-founded. Russia’s declining military export prowess is even more evident considering its inability to protect key allies. Despite Syria being central to Russia’s Middle East strategy, Moscow failed to defend Bashar al-Assad’s regime or secure its own military bases, even though supply lines like the Syrian Express link its Tartus naval base to the Black Sea war efforts. Similarly, during the recent 12-day war between Israel and Iran, Russia offered Iran only verbal support, despite Tehran’s vital role in the Ukraine war through its Shahed drones. Iran’s request for air defence systems like the S-300 and S-400 was ignored, prompting rare public criticism from Iranian officials. This reflects Russia’s retreat in the Caucasus and its inability to assert its military posture anymore.

The loss of access to Western markets, materials, and customers—combined with battlefield attrition—has dramatically curtailed Moscow’s ability to act as a reliable defence supplier.

3. Sanctions and supply chains

Due to prolonged Western sanctions, Russia has become increasingly reliant on China for microchips and other sensitive technological components. While the Indian Ministry of Defence has periodically issued advisories urging the armed forces to remove Chinese-origin technology from military hardware—particularly in imported systems—the matter has assumed greater urgency following the developments during Operation Sindoor.

It becomes pertinent to consider what this means for the production and delivery of new S-400 systems. One likely inference from the ongoing delays is that Russia may be supplying India with newly manufactured units rather than from existing stock.

To navigate Western restrictions—primarily imposed by the US and European Union—Russia has been sourcing microelectronic components via regional partners such as Kazakhstan and China. While this workaround has helped keep some production lines active, it has significantly inflated the cost of crucial parts and further deepened Russia’s dependency on China for sustaining its defence manufacturing capabilities.

Indeed, weapons analysts examining destroyed Russian equipment in Ukraine have repeatedly found Western-made components—often from the US, Japan, and Europe—despite sanctions. Whether these parts were smuggled in after 2022 or are merely leftover stockpiles remains unclear. What’s evident, however, is that Russia’s production chain is neither sorted nor independent. And when faced with scarcity, Russia will always prioritise its domestic requirements over foreign contracts—even longstanding ones like India’s.

Reports suggest that Almaz-Antey, the Russian conglomerate that makes S-400 , has recently set up a drone manufacturing facility in China, likely using this as a channel to access chips and other sensitive technologies. While this allows Russia to keep its production lines running, it further entrenches its reliance on Chinese goodwill—a development that is uncomfortable for India.

4. China’s strategic pressure

A more troubling possibility is that China may be pressuring Russia—either directly or subtly—not to prioritise India’s defence deliveries. This wouldn’t be unprecedented. After the Galwan clash, Chinese officials made their displeasure with the Russia-India defence cooperation quite explicit. Since then, Beijing’s growing technical and strategic support to Pakistan—especially during events like Operation Swift Retort—has made the regional dynamics clearer to Indian observers. Indian Air Force officials have acknowledged that China provided real-time intelligence to Pakistan during that episode, revealing that Pakistan was merely the front while China orchestrated key moves from behind.

In this broader context, China may actually have incentives to keep Russian weapon exports subdued. With Russia increasingly bogged down in Ukraine and facing sanctions, China has quietly filled the void in regions traditionally influenced by Moscow. In the Caucasus, for example, Azerbaijan has begun purchasing China-Pakistan co-produced fighter jets. Even in Iran, Russia was unable to offer any military aid—leaving space for China to expand its influence.

Although no official foreign policy statement would admit such motives, these strategic shifts suggest a calculated Chinese effort to limit Russia’s defence outreach—especially toward India—while positioning itself as the emerging arms supplier in contested theatres.

The long arc of India’s acquisition of the Russian-made S-400 Triumf now embodies a paradox—an extraordinary asset delayed at a time when the country’s outer defensive architecture demands urgent consolidation.

While definitive explanations for the four factors discussed remain elusive, it is strategically prudent for India to invest in building its own air defence capabilities through initiatives like Project Kusha—even if the development timelines appear extended.

Swasti Rao is a Consulting Editor (International and Strategic Affairs) at ThePrint. She tweets @swasrao. Views are personal.

(Edited by Prasanna Bachchhav)