Nous Explainers· 16 Mar 2026· 8:07

Vishwaguru vs Reality: Is India’s Foreign Policy Losing Balance? | Explainer

For over a decade, India has projected the image of a rising “Vishwaguru”—a nation claiming a larger moral and geopolitical role in the world. But the turbulence of 2026 has begun to test that narrative. As global conflicts disrupt oil supplies and domestic prices rise, geopolitics is no longer a…

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Look at these faces. These are not the faces of a global superpower, but of a nation in crisis. For millions of Indians, geopolitics is no longer a debate for television studios. It has entered the kitchen. As cooking gas becomes a luxury and petrol prices climb to historic highs, the story India has told itself for a decade is finally beginning to crack. For over 10 years, the world was sold a brand, Vishwaguru. Prime Minister Narendra Modi, India's most traveled leader, promised global dominance. But in the turbulence of 2026, the gold plating is peeling off, revealing a hollow core. Strategic autonomy has morphed into strategic isolation, prompting a vital question. Has India's foreign policy been serving the national interest, or has it been reduced to a high-budget marketing campaign for domestic Hindutva agenda?

Historically, Indian diplomacy was guided by a far more cautious and balanced philosophy. Under Jawaharlal Nehru, India helped shape the Non-Aligned Movement, refusing to become a partner to either the American or Soviet blocks during the Cold War. It was a doctrine of strategic independence that allowed India to maintain working relationships across ideological divides. Successive governments, from Indira Gandhi to Manmohan Singh, preserved this equilibrium. Whether dealing with Iran or Israel, Russia or the United States, India traditionally sought diplomatic balance over ideological alignment.

The West Asia crisis exposes our dangerous drift from that tradition. In February 2026, just one day before a devastating US-Israel war on Iran, PM Modi was in Jerusalem to receive the newly instituted Knesset Medal, one of Israel's highest parliamentary honors. And the symbolism did not stop with the medal. During the visit, Narendra Modi referred to Israel as a fatherland. "It's the fatherland. And India, the motherland." He chose to make this civilizational embrace at a time when governments and human rights groups across the world were questioning Israel's actions in Gaza. "Israel is an apartheid state which has been predicated upon the erasure of the Palestinians today." "Israel no longer belongs within the civilized community of nations." Thousands of civilians had been killed. Entire neighborhoods were reduced to rubble. And this came despite India's long-standing support for Palestinian self-determination and a two-state solution. For the ideological ecosystem of the RSS and the Hindutva movement, this language was not accidental. Israel is often presented as a model of a religious homeland, a parallel that fits neatly into the imagination of a Hindu civilizational state.

But for Indian diplomacy, the consequences were serious. By abandoning its long-standing policy of balance and aligning ideologically with Israel, India weakened its leverage across West Asia. The fallout was immediate. India's $120 million investment in Iran's Chabahar Port, our gateway to Central Asia, was effectively stranded. The conflict also exposed another uncomfortable silence. When Iran's supreme leader, a major Shia religious authority, was killed in the first days of the US-Israeli war with Iran, India's response was muted. This was striking given that nearly 20 million Shia Muslims live in India. And for decades, India maintained careful diplomacy with Tehran.

Meanwhile, the economic consequences were unfolding rapidly. As tensions disrupted shipping through the Strait of Hormuz, the narrow passage through which nearly 20% of the world's oil flows, India found itself dangerously exposed. Crude has hit over $100 per barrel. The rupee has plummeted to 92.4 against the dollar. We traded our energy security for a symbolic medal from a genocidal state.

The contradictions extended to relations with the United States. While the government promoted the Modi-Trump bromance, Washington imposed 50% tariffs on Indian goods in late 2025, citing India's continued purchase of Russian oil. Yet only months later, the US quietly signaled that India could continue buying Russian oil. The reversal revealed an uncomfortable reality. Rather than exercising strategic autonomy, India appeared to be adjusting its decisions according to signals from Washington. The humiliation didn't end with trade. In late 2025, over 100 Indians were deported from the US, not in seats, but in handcuffs and leg chains. While the government remained silent to protect the leader's image, our citizens were treated with a lack of dignity that contradicts every Vishwaguru claim.

This new India didn't just export ideology. It exported cronyism. Foreign policy often looked like a sales pitch for the Adani Group, with major contracts in Sri Lanka and Bangladesh secured under the shadow of the PM's visits. But the Hindenburg report was the catalyst for a regional revolt. By 2026, Bangladesh moved to scrap the Goda power deal citing massive corruption. And Sri Lanka reevaluated Adani projects under intense local pressure.

Meanwhile, India's diplomatic influence in its own neighborhood has steadily eroded. Relations with Pakistan remain frozen with dialogue virtually non-existent. Nepal has repeatedly clashed with India over border disputes and increasingly turned towards China. In Sri Lanka, despite India's economic assistance during its financial collapse, China's strategic influence continues to grow. In the Maldives, the India Out political campaign openly challenged India's presence. Even Bangladesh, long considered India's closest regional partner, has witnessed growing tensions over trade, water sharing, and infrastructure deals. Across South Asia, China's footprint is expanding while India struggles to maintain the influence it once commanded.

The situation is equally delicate in the Gulf states where nearly 9 million Indian workers live and work and from where India receives tens of billions of dollars in remittances every year. For decades, balanced diplomacy with Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Qatar, and Kuwait protected both energy supplies and these vital economic lifelines. If India's foreign policy appears increasingly ideological, those relationships and the remittances that sustain millions of households could come under strain.

And if you're still wondering about the global respect shown in Houston or London, don't be mistaken. These were not spontaneous outbursts. They were meticulously stage-managed spectacles organized by overseas RSS networks for domestic consumption.

The tragedy of India's current foreign policy is the sacrifice of substance for style. By bending diplomacy to suit a majoritarian narrative and corporate interests, India has traded genuine leadership for social media optics. As Indians stand in miles-long queues for fuel, the truth is unavoidable. We aren't leading the world. We're being schooled by a harsh reality that values national interest over manufactured images.

Companion article

For much of the past decade, India's government has marketed a single word to describe the country's place in the world: Vishwaguru, or “teacher to the world.” It promised a nation that had graduated from post-colonial caution to global leadership, guided everywhere by Prime Minister Narendra Modi, India's most travelled head of government. By 2026, that brand is being tested against a harder set of facts: cooking gas prices that have become a household strain, petrol at historic highs, a rupee that has slid to roughly 92.4 to the dollar, and crude oil above $100 a barrel. The gap between the marketing and the material conditions of ordinary Indians has become difficult to paper over, and it raises an uncomfortable question — whether foreign policy has been serving the national interest, or functioning as a costly extension of a domestic political project.

A Break From the Doctrine of Balance

India's diplomatic tradition, from Jawaharlal Nehru's founding role in the Non-Aligned Movement through to the governments of Indira Gandhi and Manmohan Singh, was built around a doctrine of balance rather than ideological alignment — engaging Iran and Israel, Russia and the United States, without becoming captive to any single bloc. That balance is what critics say has eroded. In February 2026, a day before a devastating US-Israel war on Iran began, Modi was in Jerusalem receiving Israel's newly instituted Knesset Medal, one of the country's highest parliamentary honours, and describing Israel as a “fatherland” to India's “motherland.” The framing arrived as human rights groups worldwide were describing Israel's conduct in Gaza in terms as severe as apartheid, after a war that killed thousands of civilians and flattened entire neighbourhoods — a marked departure from India's long-standing support for Palestinian self-determination and a two-state solution. For the ideological ecosystem around the Hindutva movement, the language was not incidental: Israel is frequently held up as a model of a religious homeland, a template that maps neatly onto the idea of a Hindu civilisational state.

The Price of Picking a Side

The costs of that alignment surfaced quickly. India's $120 million investment in Iran's Chabahar Port — its planned gateway to Central Asia bypassing Pakistan — was effectively stranded once the war began. New Delhi's response to the killing of Iran's supreme leader, a major Shia religious authority, in the war's opening days was notably muted, a striking silence given that India is home to nearly 20 million Shia Muslims and had, for decades, maintained careful diplomacy with Tehran precisely to protect those ties. The economic fallout followed just as fast: as the fighting disrupted shipping through the Strait of Hormuz, the narrow channel that carries close to a fifth of the world's oil, India's energy security was directly exposed, feeding straight into the fuel queues and currency slide that have become the year's defining domestic story.

Contradictions With Washington

The relationship with the United States tells a similar story of a strategic partnership that looks less like autonomy than accommodation. Even as the government promoted what it called the Modi-Trump “bromance,” Washington imposed 50 percent tariffs on Indian goods in late 2025 over India's continued purchase of Russian oil — only to quietly signal, months later, that India could keep buying it after all. The reversal suggested India was reacting to Washington's cues rather than setting independent terms. The humiliation was not confined to trade: more than 100 Indians were deported from the US in late 2025 in handcuffs and leg chains rather than seats, a scene the government stayed largely silent on, reportedly to avoid complicating the image of its central diplomatic relationship.

Exporting Cronyism Along With Ideology

Beyond ideology, critics argue that Indian foreign policy has increasingly doubled as a vehicle for corporate interests — most visibly those of the Adani Group, which secured major contracts in Sri Lanka and Bangladesh in the shadow of prime ministerial visits. The Hindenburg Research report on the conglomerate became the catalyst for a regional pushback: by 2026, Bangladesh moved to scrap its Adani-linked Godda power deal over corruption allegations, and Sri Lanka came under intense domestic pressure to reevaluate its own Adani projects.

A Shrinking Neighbourhood

The erosion is perhaps clearest in India's immediate neighbourhood, long treated as the natural sphere of its influence. Relations with Pakistan remain frozen, with dialogue effectively non-existent. Nepal has repeatedly clashed with India over border disputes and tilted further toward China. Sri Lanka, despite Indian financial support during its economic collapse, has seen Chinese strategic influence keep growing. The Maldives has seen an openly anti-India political campaign gain traction. And even Bangladesh, historically India's closest regional partner, has developed friction over trade, water-sharing, and infrastructure. Across South Asia, the pattern is consistent: China's footprint expanding as India's contracts.

The stakes are just as high further afield, in the Gulf states, where nearly 9 million Indian workers live and send home tens of billions of dollars in remittances every year. That relationship has historically depended on the same doctrine of balance now under strain — and an increasingly ideological foreign policy risks straining the economic lifeline that millions of Indian households depend on.

Style Over Substance

Large diaspora gatherings in cities like Houston and London have often been cited as proof of India's rising global stature, but these were not spontaneous displays of affection — they were, by this account, carefully organised spectacles run through overseas RSS networks, designed primarily for a domestic audience rather than as genuine markers of international standing.

Taken together, the picture is of a foreign policy that has increasingly prioritised symbolism over strategy: medals over energy security, alignment over leverage, and optics over the material interests of citizens. As Indians queue for fuel and watch the rupee fall, the argument goes, the country isn't leading the world so much as being disciplined by it — a harsher teacher than the Vishwaguru brand ever accounted for.

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