India’s latest strategic posture is not theatre — it is sober preparation for a peril no democracy wants to face: nuclear coercion wrapped in the chaos of conventional conflict. When the Chief of Defence Staff, Gen Anil Chouhan, warned that India must be ready for radiological and related threats after Operation Sindoor, it was not chest-thumping. It was a plain-speaking admission that deterrence is not only about weapons, but about planning to survive and operate in a contaminated, chaotic battlespace. For years New Delhi has lived by a clear moral and strategic line: no first use, credible minimum deterrence. That doctrine remains valuable. But doctrine alone does not protect citizens or forces from a desperate adversary who might try to weaponize radiation, use tactical nukes to blunt India’s conventional superiority, or stage a dramatic provocation to divert international attention from internal trouble in places such as PoK or Balochistan. The CDS’s statement signals that India understands the danger of strategic surprise and is closing the gap between policy and preparedness. The technical and political facts pushing this realism are unmistakable. India now possesses a growing nuclear arsenal and a maturing triad that includes sea-based deterrence — a living insurance policy against decapitation or rapid disarming strikes. The inductive patrols by India’s nuclear submarine fleet have moved the triad from theory to practice, and that survivability matters when crisis managers in Rawalpindi must calculate costs. Nuclear weapons are not just symbols; they are political tools whose deterrent value depends on credible delivery and credible resilience. On the other side, Pakistan’s development of tactical options — epitomised by the Nasr short-range system designed for battlefield use — intentionally compresses decision timelines and raises the spectre of escalation from conventional clashes to nuclear exchange.
Tactical nuclear weapons are dangerous because they lower the threshold for use: in planners’ minds, they are “limited,” but in reality, they invite unpredictable strategic reverberations. India cannot afford to treat such capabilities as academic; it must harden, train and plan for the messy aftermath of a detonation or widespread radiological contamination. Preparation is practical, not provocative. India’s moves must be understood as layered: expand survivable command-and-control nodes; diversify and disperse logistical and medical stocks; train combined civil-military teams for mass radiological casualties; harden air and maritime denial capacities to prevent an aggressor using chaos to strike shores or re-open terror routes. India must also accelerate forensic and attribution capabilities so any misadventure can be quickly and publicly pinned to its source, denying attackers any cloak of plausible deniability. These are the nuts-and-bolts of credible deterrence. There is also a geopolitical message embedded in readiness: do not mistake moral restraint for weakness. India’s no-first-use posture is a moral and stabilising principle — but moral clarity without operational credibility is hollow. Preparedness for radiological contingencies, an overt strengthening of deterrent signals, and clear political messaging together tell a would-be provocateur that the cost of escalation is not an acceptable gamble. The world should not be surprised when New Delhi combines restraint with resolve. Finally, context matters. If internal instability is manipulated — whether to claw back attention from unrest in parts of Pakistan or to force international mediation — the tactic only works if the other side doubts India’s capacity to respond or to continue operations under radiological stress. The CDS’s warning is therefore both a deterrent and a calibration: India will not be distracted, coerced or paralysed. The cost of miscalculation will be high; India is preparing to ensure that any such calculation fails. The message is blunt and necessary: nuclear blackmail will not work — and India is ready to prove it.
