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INDIAN AIR FORCE
Vanishing Air ForceThe rapid
depletion of India's ageing fighter aircraft due to crashes and unserviceability ha opened
a window of vulnerability over the country.
By Manoj
Joshi
Even though they almost never get a
glimpse of the Pathankot-based MiG-21s as they streak across the sky, the residents of
Harchakian village near Dharamshala know the thunderclap caused by the jets all too well.
But on October 27 the sound appeared different. When Gian Chand of Margeta village looked
up, he just had time to see an aircraft rapidly losing height before it plunged into the
pine-covered ridge nearby.
By the time the rescue team arrived, the aircraft was a
smouldering wreck and its pilot, Flying Officer Manu Shrivastava (23), one more grim
statistic of the terrible toll that ageing aircraft and inadequate training facilities are
taking of the Indian Air Force (IAF). Government figures show that between 1991 and 1997,
the IAF lost 63 pilots and 147 aircraft to accidents. Since then, another 25 crashes --
including the one that claimed Shrivastava -- have taken place.
Given the current schedule of retirements and new
acquisitions, force levels could be down from the existing 600-odd aircraft to about 450
by the year 2005, estimates Pushpindar Singh, editor of Vayu Aerospace Review and author
of an authoritative study on the IAF. With the force multiplier effect of modern aircraft,
these numbers would not have been a problem but for the fact that in addition to the
Pakistan Air Force, the IAF has to now contend with a modernised Chinese People's
Liberation Army Air Force. For the first time in recent decades, China is able to target
northern and eastern India with its Russian-made Su-27 acquisition. "This window of
vulnerability needs to be urgently addressed," contends Air Commodore (retd) Jasjit
Singh, director of the Institute of Defence Studies and Analyses and a decorated combat
veteran of the 1971 war with Pakistan.
The IAF reached a peak of sorts in 1987 when it acquired
its first top-of-the-line fighters, the Mirage-2000 and the MiG-29s, as well as revamped
its ground attack fleet with MiG-27s while adding a whole new generation of transport
aircraft like AN-32s, Il-76 and Mi-17 and Mi-26 helicopters. As a measure of its
self-confidence, the country was well into an indigenous ballistic missile programme and
had finalised a project to design and manufacture its own light combat aircraft (LCA).
Pride must have come just before the fall. In 1991, the
Soviet Union came apart and so too, in a sense, the IAF. More than two-thirds of its
aircraft were from the erstwhile Soviet Union. At the best of times aircraft use an
enormous number of spares, but the ageing MiG-21 and Mi-8 (helicopter) fleets demanded
even more. Though the MiG-21s and MiG-27s were being manufactured under licence by HAL, a
number of critical items were supplied by the Soviets.
The shortage of spares sent the IAF into a tailspin. During
the next six years, the accident rate shot up sharply, averaging some 25 mishaps a year.
While the exact number of fighters involved is classified, Mumbai-based aviation writer
Hormuz Mama cites government figures to state that in the period 1991-1997, the IAF was
losing 3.99 MiGs for every 10,000 hours of flying, a rate which compared unfavourably with
that of the British Royal Air Force's 0.21 per 10,000 flying hours.
Initially, the IAF blamed HAL's poor production practices
for the losses. But it was clear that instead of passing the buck it needed to take some
drastic steps. On December 31, 1995, the day he took over, Air Chief Marshal S.K. Sareen
issued a controversial order decreeing that the inspection procedures would no longer
focus on the combat readiness of the squadrons but on flight safety.
Since many aircraft would be found "unfit" to
fly, it looked as if the IAF had "resolved" its safety problem. In the ensuing
years the IAF put greater emphasis on flight safety than on combat capability. The
"safety first" drive brought down the number of accidents by curtailing flying
activity, but it also eroded the combat capabilities of the IAF. In the '80s the IAF had
maintained American and British standards by providing 180 hours of flying training to its
pilots. In the '90s this came down to 120 hours and in Sareen's tenure to less than 100.
According to former air chief marshal S.K. Kaul, who
commanded the IAF in its critical years from 1993 to 1995, it had become clear from the
mid-'80s that the IAF would need to take a fresh look at numbers. The 37 combat squadrons
authorised in the '70s could not be sustained with the quantum jump in prices and
capabilities. But, he says, this ought to have been done as part of a complete strategy,
not "make-shift arrangements".
That is precisely how the IAF has been equipped in the last
50 years. Instead of systematic force planning and acquisitions, successive governments
have taken piece-meal decisions. For example, in 1982, the government acquired 40 Mirages
without any air staff target (requirement) issued by the IAF. Then, after getting nine
more, it shelved plans for making 100 Mirages. The same thing happened with the MiG-29
when the IAF suddenly decided to go in for the Sukhoi-30MKI. For 14 long years, the IAF
has been without an advanced jet trainer (AJT). This has taken a toll of young pilots
trying to learn the job on the unforgiving MiG-21.
The IAF will have a new chief from January 1, 1999. But all
that Air Chief Marshal A.Y. Tipnis will be able to do for the present is to keep his
fingers crossed and hope that the Sukhoi and MiG upgrade programmes work. He has to say
special prayers for the LCA -- even if it flies by next year it cannot get into squadron
service before 2010. The IAF could, theoretically, reopen its MiG-21 and MiG-27 line and
manufacture more aircraft. But there is another, albeit interim, option. Whatever be the
case, it would be unconscionable for the Government to delay any further a decision on the
AJT. The aircraft in the reckoning -- the British Hawk, the French Alphajet or the Russian
MiG-AT -- have close air support combat capability, a key IAF lacuna and which was to have
been the forte of the LCA .
When Tipnis takes over as air chief his task will be cut
out. His priority will be to push for the AJT. Then he has to persuade the Government to
ensure that hard-won capabilities, costing thousands of crores of rupees, are not
squandered away.
THE LCA
The IAF must wait some more for the Indian aeronautics industry's great white
hope. Many of the woes being faced by the
IAF are a result of the delay in the Light Combat Aircraft (LCA) project, among the most
ambitious engineering projects in the country. Begun in 1983, it was to have delivered the
first aircraft by the mid-'90s and equip 10 squadrons with 18 aircraft each by 1999. With
the first flight of one of the two technology-demonstrator aircraft slated for 1999, the
project remains years away from completion. Officially the Government maintains that the
aircraft will enter squadron service by 2003, but observers like Air Commodore (retd)
Jasjit Singh say "it is extremely unlikely" that the IAF would have a 4-squadron
force of this aircraft till 2015.
The air force remains sceptical about the future of the
LCA. But it must share part of the blame for this as well as for the delays. Initially
seen as an aircraft designed to replace the MiG-21 required to support the army, the
aircraft began to add capabilities and soon, in the words of one critic, "became
another Mirage 2000". The project has now been hit by the US embargo on India. The
Americans were involved in a number of key areas and supplied the GE-404 engines for the
prototypes. LCA team officials say that a project for making the Kaveri jet engine is
doing well. But in the aircraft business, seeing is believing. Bets will be on the day the
LCA does what it is meant to do: take to the air. |
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