In his 1853 book, Principles of Realpolitik, writer and politician Ludwig von Rochau defined the term he coined as the study of the forces that mold, sustain, and transform the state. Realpolitik is the foundation of political insight, he argued, “and leads to the understanding that the law of power governs the world of states just as the law of gravity governs the physical world.”

To this day, the realist school of international relations posits that nation-states seek power and security in the Hobbesian world by practicing Realpolitik. A realist’s analysis of available foreign policy options in the world of concrete situations and competing actors is not burdened by ideology nor constrained by abstract imperatives. In fact, a nation’s pursuit of a pragmatically defined interest—the art of the diplomatically possible—has the potential to realize moral purposes.

An example of this was manifested by the long period of relative peace in Europe between the Congress of Vienna, in 1815, and the outbreak of the Great War, in 1914. Two of the greatest statesmen of the 19^th century, Klemens von Metternich and Otto von Bismarck, were seasoned realpolitikers whose finesse helped keep the Old Continent stable and prosperous for generations.

The realist paradigm is the polar opposite of the neoconservative dogma of American exceptionalism, which was presented in its pristine form in President George W. Bush’s 2003 State of the Union address:

The qualities of courage and compassion that we strive for in America also determine our conduct abroad.… We must also remember our calling as a blessed country is to make the world better.

In the same speech, Bush made equally messianic claims that “this call of history has come to the right country” and that “we exercise power without conquest and sacrifice for the liberty of strangers” because “the liberty we prize is not America’s gift to the world, it is God’s gift to humanity.” As witnessed in Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya, Syria, Kosovo, and so on.

This approach to world affairs, based on a toxic brew of nationalist socialism and internationalist imperialism, is the foundation of the American global empire. It is insane in its assumptions and criminal in its consequences. Its megalomania reflects a psychotic quest for dominance devoid of any rational calculus of America’s security and national interests.
It is fortunate that other major powers in today’s world do not base their foreign policies on comparably irrational assumptions. If they did, it is an even bet that a nuclear war would have destroyed the planet by now.

India is one of those powers. Delhi is not yet in the same power league with Washington, Beijing, and Moscow, but its prime minister, Narendra Modi, is an unabashed realist who has been using the crisis between Russia and the collective West to increase his country’s global clout. As he told the nation in his Independence Day address last August, his policy is guided by panchsheel: the five principles of peaceful coexistence. These include respect for sovereignty, mutual nonaggression and noninterference in internal affairs, equality, and mutual benefit in foreign relations. India no longer needed certificates of validation from the world, he said. This was an openly realist statement and evidence of India’s newfound aplomb to pursue its interests without paying heed to the displeasure this may cause in some foreign—mostly Western—quarters.

Last December, India assumed the G20 presidency, and it will convene the group’s summit for the first time in 2023 as a self-confident and highly respected actor on the world stage. In the early phase of the Ukrainian crisis, Modi visited Germany, France, and Denmark a few days after welcoming his then-British counterpart Boris Johnson and European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen. Delhi has refused to condemn Russia’s war in Ukraine, though Modi has made occasional oblique criticisms of Putin’s action, notably at the U.N. General Assembly last fall. Nevertheless, in accordance with India’s long-standing principle of rejecting unilateral sanctions which have not been adopted by the United Nations, Modi has not engaged in any sanctions on Russia, and India is ignoring the $60 cap on Russian oil imposed by the EU and G7 on Dec. 3.

Modi enjoys strong domestic support for an assertively nationalist foreign policy, support which is not limited to the Hindu mainstay of his Bharatiya Janata Party. For the first time since India gained independence in 1948, its educated elite—long prone to a tacit acceptance of their country’s peripheral role in world politics—is developing a broad consensus that India’s size, enormous population, strong economic growth over the past quarter-century, and favorable geostrategic setting provide the basis for an enhanced status in global affairs. At the same time, Modi’s diplomatic assertiveness goes hand in hand with a growing domestic cult of his personality, comparable to that of his predecessor Indira Gandhi in the 1970s.

Modi sees India’s future status as the world’s third largest economy by 2030—but within the Hindu nationalist paradigm: it will be Vishwaguru, “the teacher to the world,” a lumen mundi and a great power that seeks leadership without trying to impose its hegemony. Within this paradigm, and in order to enhance its cherished “strategic autonomy,” India needs to act like a great power in order to be accepted as such.

The final—and not merely symbolic—objective is a permanent seat at the U.N. Security Council. “In India’s case, nationalism has in fact led to greater internationalism,” foreign minister Subrahmanyam Jaishankar said in a major speech last November. The U.S. and China were more relevant to India than ever before, he said, but added that “the Russian relationship has defied odds by remaining incredibly steady” and that India’s “rediscovery of Europe” was underway, with France (not Britain, the metropolis of yore) singled out as “a critical strategic partner.”

In the short term, India’s neutrality over the war in Ukraine has paid rich economic dividends. Delhi has been able to buy large quantities of Russian oil and gas at discounted prices. Through the end of 2021, Russia had been supplying a negligible 0.2 percent of India’s oil imports. Deliveries then soared to 300,000 barrels a day in April of 2022, 700,000 a day in May, and over 900,000 a day in June, where it hovered, more or less, until December, when it surged over a million barrels a day. Russia is now India’s top oil supplier, having surpassed traditional providers Saudi Arabia and Iraq.

India also remains the main buyer of Russian weaponry, which still accounts for about one half of its military spending. At the same time, its efforts to diversify its sources of supply are bringing legions of eager Western arms salesmen to Delhi.

India sees some common geostrategic ground with America and its Pacific Rim allies in the desire to contain China. The government in Delhi is loath, however, to enter into any formal arrangements with the rest of “the Quad” (as the strategic partnership between the U.S., India, Japan, and Australia is known), which would undermine India’s nonaligned status. India’s leadership is aware that the country can achieve its long-term aspirations only in a world that is more multipolar and therefore less subservient to the hegemonistic “rules-based international order.”

Even if Russia’s potentially diminished status on the global scene results in some degree of political distancing by India from its traditional Eurasian partner in the North, such a separation will happen gradually, on Delhi’s own terms, and not as a result of Western demands or pressure. India’s growing economic dependence on Russia is coupled with the continued perception that, even after the setbacks in Ukraine, Russia is a geopolitical counterweight to China and to the U.S.-led collective West. In addition, the Russian connection is essential to India’s attempts to cultivate relations with Central Asia, a key region from which India has been long excluded by its old rival, Pakistan.

India’s posture vis-à-vis the West will depend largely on whether Xi Jinping adopts a more conciliatory line on the unresolved border dispute in the Himalayas. Of equal import is whether Xi decides that China’s partnership with Pakistan has become too close for comfort, as manifested in Islamabad’s hybrid war in Afghanistan, which resulted in the Taliban victory in August 2021. Xi would be well advised to consider both options, because China’s growth has created apprehension among India’s ruling elites comparable to the early period of European penetration 300 years ago. If that apprehension grows to the point where India accepts, even reluctantly, the role of the southwestern pivot in the U.S.-led chain of China’s containment, the result will be a minus-sum game for both Delhi and Beijing.

India has a great idea of itself and has great ambitions. Modi’s main challenge is to avoid having his maneuvering space reduced by geopolitical dynamics beyond India’s control and being forced to take sides. He is also aware of the need to continue the process of building a national identity in a country that will soon overtake China as the world’s most populous nation but that is far more diverse—and often bitterly divided, ethnically, linguistically, religiously and socially—than the near-monolithic Han nation of China.

Antony Blinken and other U.S. dignitaries prefer to keep quiet about it, but the fact is that today’s trans-Atlanticism demands tomorrow’s compliance with transgenderism.

For Modi, the Hindu traditionalist, there is an additional reason why a military and political alliance with the collective West is not merely undesirable but virtually impossible. It is the ideology of wokedom, a pernicious malaise which is equally odious to India, China, Russia, the Muslim world, sub-Saharan Africa, and Latin America—a rare point of agreement among the civilizations otherwise divided along Huntingtonian fault lines.

Antony Blinken and other U.S. dignitaries prefer to keep quiet about it, but the fact is that today’s trans-Atlanticism demands tomorrow’s compliance with transgenderism. Henry Kissinger’s old quip—“to be America’s enemy is dangerous, but to be America’s friend is fatal”—no longer applies merely to that friend’s life and limb (e.g. Diem, Noriega, the Shah, etc.) but also to his heart and soul. Modi may be a seasoned realpolitiker, but for him, the defense of traditional Hindu mores trumps any merely material benefit. He will continue to juggle between Moscow and the West, guided by what he perceives as India’s national interest and strategic objectives, but he will never accept rainbow flags in Indian classrooms or weaponized homosexuality imposing itself on the streets of Indian cities.

It would be in the American interest not to exert pressure on India to comply with Washington’s demands for political and diplomatic action—specifically condemnation of Russia—which almost certainly would be counterproductive. More seriously, under the Countering America’s Adversaries Through Sanctions Act (CAATSA), India could face U.S. economic penalties for its acquisition of Russian weapons, including the S-400 air defense system delivered last year. The House of Representatives approved legislation recommending an India-specific waiver under the CAATSA last July, but the advocates of a tougher line on Delhi have not given up the option of using the act as a tool to pressure Modi into greater compliance.

It is in the American interest for India to remain a non-aligned country that follows the path of strategic autonomy. It is not in the American interest to seek a formal military-political alliance with India, still largely a poor, internally divided, developing country that is a long way from parity with its rival across the Himalayas. Treating India as a potential ally against Beijing would be risky. Even if India were to depart from its cherished strategic independence, instead of becoming a major asset in the U.S.-commanded chain of containment, it could swiftly become yet another American defense dependent.

An American security guarantee could make India less willing to invest heavily into its own defense. Worse still, such a guarantee could make India dangerously confident in the knowledge that America would be treaty-bound to protect it. Some future Janata-led administration might feel encouraged to adopt a more confrontational attitude toward China. That could involve the U.S. in disputes over distant mountain borders that are completely irrelevant to America’s well-being and security. In the Indian subcontinent, like everywhere else in the world, it is in the American interest to avoid additional military and political commitments rather than to expand them.