From commanding warships to shaping minds in defence colleges, Commodore G Prakash (retd) has seen the bow and stern of the Indian Navy.
A decorated veteran and warfare strategist, Cmde Prakash sits with TNIE to discuss his formative years at Sainik School and NDA, life at sea and in command, Operation Sindoor, India’s military posture, modernisation of the armed forces, geopolitics, and more…
What inspired you to join the Indian Navy?
Actually, no particular inspiration. I grew up in rural Chengannur. My father was in the Air Force. One day, he took me for the Sainik School entrance exam in Kazhakootam. I passed, so I joined. That’s all.
So, did your time at Sainik School lead you to the defence forces?
Defence forces, yes. However, regarding the branch, very practical choices led to it. There were three options: Army, Navy, and Air Force. I preferred the Army because 220 of 340 seats were reserved for it, and the medical standards were a bit easier. For the first time, I went to Allahabad, but failed to clear it. Six months later, I applied again, but this time for the Navy, because repeat travel for the same service isn’t reimbursed. As fate would have it, I passed and got into the Navy.
What was the biggest takeaway from Sainik School?
That school made us who we are, flaws and all. Our headmaster, Major Prakash Singh, used to say, ‘Learn to play. You’ll lose, but keep playing. Get used to loss.’ I tell this to students now. Another thing our school gave most of us was a deep love for reading. Then, the friendships one forged there were in blood, sweat and pain. And they last a long time. I still keep in touch with all of them.
What about your time at the NDA?
NDA is intense. Many drop out in the first two months. Days start at 4.30 am. The class combinations are crazy. For instance, there will be mathematics, drill and PT; and swimming, chemistry and history. Meals are served in a regal dining hall, and the cuisine is fantastic. But you can’t always eat there (laughs). All kinds of punishments are meted out. Mind you, it’s not ragging.
The word ragging doesn’t even figure in this picture. Basically, it is ‘hierarchy building’. If someone is even a day senior to me, throughout my life, I will call him sir. It doesn’t matter what rank he holds. If you want to build this kind of loyalty or kinship, then this ‘hierarchy building’ is necessary. Most importantly, it dispels your ego. You can’t operate in a team with ego. Getting rid of that is essential.
It’s often said that Indian officers are among the best in the world in terms of discipline, especially based on what we hear about global peacekeeping missions. How would you compare the training of Indian officers with counterparts from other countries?
I will share something from my experience. I worked alongside Americans during the tsunami relief in Sri Lanka — not a UN mission, but similar dynamics. In daily meetings at Galle, coordination was key. Among foreign militaries, there were Austrians, Americans, and us. One day, a UN official asked me to chair the meeting. I asked why. She said, “They aren’t managing it properly.” I observed: Austrians and Americans sat a bit arrogantly, with few personnel but many cameras and heavy equipment. In contrast, we had 450 Indians, each with just a spade. No JCBs, no rollers. But we worked sincerely, no photo ops. That’s the difference. Our discipline stands out. We follow orders, avoid politics, and just get the job done.
What about the 1988 Sri Lanka intervention?
I have been giving a lecture titled ‘The Effect of Prolonged Peace’ since 2012. It’s based on eight years of research on the British Navy from 1805 to 1914. At Trafalgar, Lord Nelson’s 33 ships defeated 41 Franco-Spanish ones. He was mortally wounded early, yet all 33 British ships survived. Why? Because Nelson had built such a strong shared doctrine that every captain knew exactly what to do. Even without him. But after Napoleon’s fall, Britain saw 100 years of peace. When war returned in 1916, Britain’s 151 ships lost badly to Germany’s 99. The reason? They hadn’t fought a serious war in a century. Operational experience had withered.
Now, think of our context. By 1971, India had already fought in 1948, 1962, and 1965. So when General Manekshaw told Indira Gandhi to wait, he knew what he was doing. When we acted, it was decisive. But in 1988, someone said ‘we’ll go’ without proper prep. That wasn’t about the troops. They were excellent. The issue was strategic.
Coming to Operation Sindoor, there’s a narrative that the ceasefire was rushed, perhaps not on our terms. How do you view that? Did it work out in Pakistan’s favour?
No, I really wouldn’t hazard a guess on this. It’s a live issue, and I am still engaged in this environment. I can’t speculate without clear facts. Let’s wait.
Commodore Srikant Kesnur (retd), when he was here with us for a Dialogues session, had underscored that India now has a greater resolve to strike wherever threats originate. Do you agree?
I don’t have anything against that view.
There are some analysts who opine we lag behind in terms of capacity building. Is there a concern we would lose the technological edge in the next 10 years?
No, I don’t think so. In 1962 and ’65, the Navy was not involved. But 1971 was different — the Navy got its real chance and seized it. The Navy played a crucial role in the surrender of 93,000 Pakistani troops. We dominated the Bay of Bengal and restricted the enemy completely. In the west, we bombed Karachi. That scar still shapes how the Pakistani navy is viewed there. After 1971, the Indian Navy saw a golden period from the mid-’80s to mid-’90s — new aircraft, submarines, and ships. Today, we have redefined our doctrine. We have, for instance, clearly stated that Operation Sindoor has been paused, not ended. We will respond decisively if provoked. But doctrine alone means little without power to back it. I believe the government understands this and will provide the resources. So no, I don’t see India losing its technological edge over the next decade.
How professional or cohesive are Pakistan’s defence forces?
I can’t claim to know all the details, but I will share what I understand. According to documented information, Pakistan’s army controls roughly 60% of the country’s economy, from milk distribution to real estate. Now, when the military moves away from its core functions, inevitably, its capabilities get diluted.
Is there tribalism or division within their army?
Definitely. Pakistan, as a country, probably should never have been formed in its current configuration. To maintain power, the leadership required a common enemy. And that was India. Parallelly, religious extremism was fostered to solidify internal cohesion. The recent incidents likely served to unite the country temporarily behind Pakistan’s military leadership. Yet, beneath the surface, there remains considerable divisiveness: the Baloch liberation movement, the Sindhi separatists, and longstanding Pashtun grievances.
During Operation Sindoor, there were false reports that the Indian Navy had attacked Karachi port. Later, to a question on such an eventuality, Vice Admiral A N Pramod [Director General of Naval Operations] stated that the Navy’s actions were part of an “escalation ladder mechanism”. Could you elaborate on it?
Well, regarding what Vice Admiral Pramod said, I only know what’s publicly available. I wouldn’t speculate further. Incidentally, Pramod and I held the same job, flew on board the same helicopters.
Now, let’s consider the geographical realities Pakistan’s navy faces. Their Makran coastline is barely 500km. Back in the ’80s and ’90s, our Seaking 42B helicopters had a radar range of about 200 miles. Basically, a single helicopter, positioned centrally, could monitor their entire coastline. Since then, our capabilities have only improved.
So, when Vice Admiral Pramod mentioned the escalation ladder, he probably referred to a range of response options. I won’t guess specifics, but it’s safe to say we enjoy clear maritime dominance.
Pakistan still manages to scrap a few ‘narrative wins’ every now and then…
Pakistan faces significant disadvantages, notably geography and perhaps internal dynamics, such as their army’s dominance over strategic decisions. Their navy is restricted mostly to defensive operations. But even a weaker opponent can land one hit and claim victory. It’s like punching Mike Tyson once — you could brag about it forever. One or two hits don’t change the game. Real strength lies in sustained economic and military power. And in that sense, I believe India has the clear upper hand.
1971 is often a reference point in conversations comparing the India-Pakistan military balance. How does it compare to today?
Frankly, the balance hasn’t changed much. Back in 1971, Pakistan had 8 ships — 4 frigates and 4 destroyers. And we had four times that. The ratio remains similar even today. They now have 5 submarines; we have 18, including nuclear-powered ones. That gap has only widened.
What about the Air Force and Army?
Same story. I know the current chiefs; they were my batchmates. Yes, there are upgrade requirements. Air Chief Marshal A P Singh has rightly highlighted we need 42 squadrons, but have only 32, and many of those have ageing aircraft. However, numbers aren’t everything. In modern warfare, it’s about systems. For instance, in an airstrike, the first priority is ‘SEAD’ — suppression of enemy air defence. That’s standard doctrine. However, on the first night of Operation Sindoor, we didn’t even do SEAD, and yet hit nine terror launchpads. Ask yourselves: ‘Why didn’t their air defence stop it’?’ Later, they targeted us, but our layered air defences — from L-70 guns to the S-400 — thwarted the attacks. Then, we went after their air defence systems and military bases. Numbers, while important, are not everything. We don’t have a problem as of now. But as I had mentioned, now that the doctrine has changed, our system is expected to get even more advanced.
In this drone age, is a third aircraft carrier still relevant?
Carriers offer air power on demand. They let you project power wherever you go. There’s a misconception that we can rely on islands like the Andamans or Lakshadweep as fixed carriers. The concept is valid, but it assumes the enemy will come to you. Navies don’t operate that way. You need to take your full strike capability with you. The Navy must continue stating its requirements clearly. Carriers, submarines, helicopters, ships — these are all legitimate needs. With the recent shift in doctrine, there’s now a case for renewed urgency.
How many aircraft carriers should India ideally have?
I would say we need a minimum of three aircraft carriers. Mainly due to the refit cycle. You need one operational on the east coast, one on the west, while the third one can be in the dock for maintenance.
There has been this new trend demanding ‘proof’ of military action... is this demoralising?
Armed forces don’t get demoralised by all this. But I don’t think it’s a morale booster, either. It’s just irrelevant. Our job is simple: deliver ordnance on target, in the right quantity, at the right time. Period. What people outside say or ask, that’s political. It’s not our concern.
There’s also been an argument about the ceasefire. Some say that just as Indira Gandhi carved out Bangladesh in 1971, we could have done the same with Balochistan if there hadn’t been a ceasefire. From a military point of view, does that hold water?
Honestly, no. We were physically in Bangladesh in 1971. And there’s a saying in the Army: ‘Victory is measured by foot’. You have to be present on the ground. You don’t control a territory just by dropping a few bombs. So, to say we could’ve created a new Balochistan by simply pushing harder is a stretch. So, from a military perspective, I don’t see any real value in that argument.
This argument was part of a political discourse: that PM Indira Gandhi was braver than the current one...
As I am not a politician, I’m not commenting on it (smiles).
We have been facing waves of terrorism. We have retaliated with surgical strikes. How long can this tit-for-tat continue?
Well, plenty of experts have already said this: there is no permanent solution. Terrorism will always exist. But it can be managed, contained. Even the mightiest can get hit. What matters is how you respond. How you absorb the blow, and how you deter the next one.
So, what’s the key in this era of constant threat?
Deterrence. Deterrence is essentially the promise of pain. We have already shifted our doctrine. We have lowered the threshold for retaliation. But here’s the catch: if you lower the threshold, you must build matching capacity. The adversary must be wary that not only will you respond, but that you have the capability to do so effectively. That’s real deterrence.
Pakistan keeps invoking its nuclear arsenal, but many feel that bluff has been called…
Absolutely. Their bluff has been called yet again. There’s a concept in strategy called rationality theory. To explain it simply, I use the example of a school classroom. Say, Class 6 or 7. At that age, you have just enough muscle and just enough lack of sense to get into a fight. Now, who’s the loudest kid in the class? Usually, it’s the smallest, weakest guy. The one who says, ‘Touch me, I’ll kill you!’ That’s his first line of defence. He has no other option. That’s rational irrationality. This is what Pakistan does with its nuclear threat. It’s their only card. Because realistically, if India ever launched a massive attack, they wouldn’t be around to retaliate. They know that. It’s not just about counting weapons. It’s about whether your country can sustain a war — economically, politically, diplomatically, and financially. On all those fronts, Pakistan simply can’t match India.
Pakistan’s military has religion as a gluing factor. India’s forces are a mix of cultures, languages, and regions. What unifies the Indian armed forces?
I am glad you asked this. It’s something I have spoken about for years. I give a lecture on it, called ‘A 3,000-year Perspective on India’s National Security’. Now, some people might say, ‘Wait, where is 3,000 years of India? India only became independent in 1947.’ That’s political India. Civilisational India? That’s thousands of years old. And its essence is very much still here. India is a beautifully multicultural country. There’s something I call ‘Indianness’. It’s a deep, binding force that transcends language, food, clothing, or even regional identity. That, to me, is our greatest strength.
There are notions that certain regions or communities have a stronger warrior tradition, like the Rajputs or Punjabis. Malayalis, on the other hand, don’t have a deep history of warfare… As a military historian, how do you view this perception?
Well, in earlier days, the Indian Air Force used to be jokingly called the ‘Nair Force’! There were so many of them in the force. And the Madras Regiment is just as ferocious as the Punjab Regiment.
Malayalis may not have a legacy of battlefield warfare like the Rajputs, but let me tell you, we have dealt with intense, complex forms of conflict for thousands of years. Long before others were exposed to the outside world, traders from Greece, Rome, Egypt, and Portugal were coming to Kerala. Trade, especially at that scale, is ruthless. We handled it all.
We have had our own challenges, our own wars. We have always been players on a global stage, in a different way. So no, there is no inferiority or superiority. The British made such classifications.
Among India’s historical war heroes such as Shivaji, Bajirao, and Tipu Sultan, who are viewed as great strategists from a military perspective?
In military education, we mostly study global strategists — Sun Tzu, Clausewitz, Jomini, and Mackinder. These thinkers shaped strategic theory within the context of their time. American admiral Alfred Mahan deeply influenced naval thinking. His book, ‘The Influence of Sea Power upon History’, is legendary. We don’t study many Russian or Chinese thinkers. Except Sun Tzu, who operates at a very high philosophical level. Our own historical strategists, like the Cholas or the Marathas, are getting attention only now.
Any personal favourites among Indian naval figures?
The Kunjali Marakkars, especially the third one. I really admire them. Imagine striking targets as far as the Krishna-Godavari delta or Malacca from Ponnani 500 years ago. It’s difficult even today with modern technology. What they achieved back then was nothing short of phenomenal.
You have commanded multiple warships. Could you share a memorable moment from that time?
One of the most meaningful experiences was during the 2004 tsunami relief operation in Sri Lanka, when I commanded INS Taragiri. The devastation in Galle was unimaginable. Their naval base, SLNS Dakshina, was flattened. The commanding officer there had managed to escape, but his office was gone. The first thing I did was take out my own captain’s chair and three visitors chairs from the ship and set them up at the jetty to rebuild his office. It was a gesture. No big speech was required. We were symbolically saying that we were there to give support, and we would give 100% of it, even at the cost of discomfort to us. We did that. Later, our ship was chosen to be thanked personally by then Sri Lankan president Chandrika Kumaratunga in Colombo.
Who would you rank as today’s top global military superpower?
There’s no clear ranking I can give. China and the US are undoubtedly the biggest. There’s an old saying: quantity has a quality of its own. China’s sheer scale matters. They are big and poised to grow even bigger. The US has been trying to catch up, especially in maritime logistics. But shipbuilding isn’t something you fix in two to five years.
What about Russia?
Russia still checks many boxes of a great power: landmass, population, resources, economy, military power, and technology. As for intangible factors, like political will, national unity, etc., they are not bad. You can’t write them off, but they aren’t what they used to be.
How important is political will?
Crucial. It’s what unleashes the military. Until then, you’re just poised. The government has to say ‘go’.
TNIE team: Kiran Prakash, Cithara Paul, Rajesh Ravi, Anu Kuruvilla, S Neeraj Krishna, Ronnie Kuriakose, Harikrishna B A Sanesh (photos) Pranav V P (video)