International politics has always had an uncomfortable truth at its heart: countries do not have friends. They have interests. The deaths of Indian sailors during recent American military action in the Persian Gulf are a tragic reminder of this reality. Coming just as Prime Minister Narendra Modi meets President Donald Trump at the G7, the incident highlights a question that many nations increasingly face in a multipolar world: how much can strategic partners truly rely on one another when national interests diverge?
It also underpins an east-west and north-south divide, which has not been papered over despite well-meaning words from wealthier industrialised advanced economies. Actions speak louder than words, and these actions reveal these lives are not as valuable as Western lives.
India and the United States have never been closer. Defence cooperation has expanded dramatically. Trade continues to grow. The Quad has become an important pillar of Indo-Pacific strategy. Washington increasingly sees India as an indispensable partner in balancing China. India increasingly sees the United States as an important source of technology, investment and geopolitical support.
Yet the relationship remains fundamentally different from a traditional alliance. India has never accepted the idea that strategic cooperation requires strategic obedience. This reflects a political culture shaped by independence, sovereignty and strategic autonomy. India's foreign policy establishment remembers colonial rule too clearly to place ultimate trust in any external power, however friendly.
The recent deaths in the Gulf reinforce that instinct. From Washington's perspective, military operations are designed around American objectives. From Delhi's perspective, the lives lost were Indian. The divergence is unavoidable. Strategic partners can share interests, but they cannot outsource them.
This is where the language of "friendship" often obscures more than it reveals. Great powers act according to perceived national interest. They always have. The United States does. China does. India does. Indeed, one could argue that the maturity of the US-India relationship will be measured not by the absence of disagreements, but by the ability to manage them. The real lesson is that in the long term rewards come to countries that maintain strategic flexibility. The nations most comfortable in today's world are not those seeking patrons. They are those seeking options.
India has understood this for decades. It buys weapons from multiple suppliers. It trades with competing blocs. It cooperates with Washington while maintaining relationships elsewhere. Critics sometimes call this inconsistency. In reality, it is strategic insurance. Britain offers an interesting contrast. For much of the post-war period, London's foreign policy rested heavily on alliance structures. India, by contrast, invested in autonomy. Most European nations opted for subservience, not autonomy. They were too weak, they were too poor, and they decided to be subservient. And through that lens, they cannot understand why a nation they would traditionally expect to be subservient, and that fills their IT call centres and their restaurants as waiters, refuses to be so. It's why in Finland the Indian Foreign Minister had to clarify that Indian armaments have never attacked Europe, but European armaments attack India regularly. And the Finns simply do not understand why any of that should be a problem.
The events in the Gulf suggest that autonomy may become increasingly valuable. None of this means India should weaken ties with America. Quite the opposite. The US relationship remains one of the most important strategic partnerships in the world. But strong partnerships are healthiest when both sides understand their limits.
The deaths of Indian sailors are a tragedy. They are also a reminder. In a multipolar world, respect matters. Partnership matters. Shared interests matter. But sovereignty matters most.
Alpesh B Patel