Every military discussion today seems to revolve around the next disruptive technology, a new headquarters, a new capability, a new dimension or a new thought. Drones dominate headlines, Artificial Intelligence promises to redefine command and control, Autonomous Systems are reshaping force structures and every conflict is rapidly distilled into a list of capabilities that must be acquired. The success of Ukrainian drone strikes, Pakistan’s increasing reliance on UAVs, and China’s unprecedented investments in intelligentised warfare have naturally compelled militaries across the world to ask what platforms they must procure next.
Yet, this may not be the most important question; history suggests that military institutions rarely fail because they misread technology, but because they misread themselves. Although we possess some Drones, Cyber capabilities or Artificial Intelligence, whether our institutions are organised, integrated and intellectually prepared to employ them against an adversary that has spent years thinking about how to fight differently. Acquiring technology is straightforward, but building an institution capable of adapting faster than the character of warfare is considerably more difficult.
Confronted by a materially stronger Empire, Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj did not attempt to build a smaller version of his adversary’s army. He first understood his own limitations and transformed them into operational strengths by exploiting terrain, mobility, intelligence and speed. Centuries earlier, Arthashastra argued that sound strategy begins with a continuous assessment of one’s own institutions before confronting external threats. Sun Tzu captured the same timeless principle in a single sentence: “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.”
Modern militaries have become exceptionally proficient at studying the first half of that maxim. We analyse adversaries’ force structures, weapons, doctrine, organisational structures and emerging technologies with precision, or at least strive to do so. Far less attention is devoted to refuting our own institutional assumptions, organisational culture, incentive structures and intellectual blind spots.
The transformation of China’s PLA offers an important reminder that meaningful military reform begins not with acquiring new capabilities, but with developing the courage to question existing ones. India should not emulate China’s organisational model; rather, the first step towards military transformation is not looking outward but looking inward.
The Courage to Question
Much has been written about the PLA’s modernisation over the last two decades. Discussions usually focus on defence spending, advanced Missile systems, Naval expansion, Theatre Commands and SSF, CSF, etc. These visible changes, however, were preceded by something far less visible but arguably far more significant: an institutional willingness to question itself.
Chinese military journals and official publications openly debated concepts such as the “two incompatibles“, “fundamental contradictions“, the “three whethers” and most notably, the “five incapables“. These did not blame inadequate budgets or outdated equipment, instead, they questioned whether Teams and Commanders possessed the judgement to assess Operational situations, understand higher intent, make timely decisions, organise forces effectively and respond to unexpected developments. The critique was directed not at individual officers but at the institution itself. By developing a common vocabulary for discussing organisational weaknesses, the PLA transformed self-critique from an occasional exercise into an institutional habit. The most difficult intelligence target for any organisation is often the institution itself.
The Illusion of Transformation
Every recent conflict appears to generate a new organisational imperative. After Nagorno-Karabakh, everyone wanted drones, and Ukraine further reinforced it. The natural response is to procure similar capabilities, establish new organisations and announce new initiatives. Yet military history repeatedly demonstrates that copying visible outcomes is easier than understanding the thinking that produced them.
The more useful question is not whether India should possess Drones; it undoubtedly should. The more important question is whether we are thinking deeply enough about how to defeat an adversary that possesses a far larger Industrial Base, a more mature Drone ecosystem and an increasingly integrated approach to intelligentised warfare. Are we investing only in platforms, or are we equally investing in concepts, specialist talent and organisational adaptability? Technology may alter the character of warfare, but institutions determine whether technology translates to operational advantage.
Organisations often debate who should own Cyber Operations, Electronic Warfare, Information Operations or Artificial Intelligence. These discussions are understandable because every institution requires administrative structures. The battlefield, however, does not recognise organisational boundaries. An adversary seeking to disrupt decision-making will integrate cyber effects, electronic attack, information manipulation, deception and autonomous systems simultaneously. The real challenge is therefore not organisational ownership but operational integration.
Perhaps the clearest illustration is the growing emphasis on red teaming. Many organisations have established formal Red Teams to challenge assumptions and test plans. Their existence is undoubtedly valuable, yet an uncomfortable question remains: can these teams genuinely think like the adversary, or have they simply become another organisational structure? Were they selected because they possess a deep understanding of the adversary’s strategic culture, doctrine and operational philosophy, or because they happen to occupy appointments associated with planning? Without genuine expertise, Institutions risk debating themselves while believing they are debating the enemy.
The same paradox applies to specialist domains more broadly where expertise cannot be administratively assigned. Qualifications and Appointments provide an entry point, but they do not create mastery; capability develops through sustained study, repeated operational exposure, experimentation and the willingness to solve difficult problems over many years. Institutions can assign appointments, but they cannot hand over expertise.
There is a natural tendency for headquarters to own solutions while practitioners own problems. Innovation emerges from small teams that struggle together, experiment together and remain accountable for Operational outcomes. The challenge is therefore not simply to create new organisations, cells, headquarters, but to preserve the intellectual curiosity and operational ownership that made those capabilities successful in the first place.
Back to Basics: The Mantra for VIJAY
If future warfare is increasingly defined by integration across domains, then perhaps the first transformation required is not technological but institutional. Before creating larger organisations or additional headquarters and verticals, armed forces must first create environments where specialists can think together, challenge one another and solve real operational problems. Whole-of-Nation integration must first be preceded by a Whole-of-Army conversation.
One possible way of achieving this is to complement existing HR policies with a Select – Attach – Operate – Reflect philosophy for specialist domains. Rather than assuming that appointments or qualifications alone create expertise, institutions should identify individuals with demonstrated aptitude and intellectual curiosity. These practitioners should then be attached to small, multidisciplinary mission teams where Cyber Operators, Intelligence Analysts, EW specialists, IO planners and technologists work on common operational problems. Membership of such teams should not be permanent or guaranteed. Brick not Clay. Every new entrant should earn their place through a demanding period of probation, where contribution, adaptability and the ability to learn become the true measures of capability. Some teams will flourish, others will fail, but both outcomes will generate institutional learning. The objective is not to create another elite organisation, but to create an ecosystem where ideas compete, practitioners mature, and successful methods naturally become institutional practice. Similar to how the US Army employs Multi-Domain Task Forces to integrate long-range fires, Cyber, EW and Intelligence against operational problems, the Indian Army could create small mission-oriented specialist detachments. Rather than permt HQ, they be attached to Corps and Comd, CI formations, UN msns or strategic organisations based on operational need. Their value would lie not in organisational ownership but in solving real operational problems while continuously refining doctrine.
The enduring lesson from the PLA’s transformation is therefore not its organisational model or its technology, but its willingness to confront uncomfortable truths about itself and organise into small specialist teams without headquarters. Institutional introspection cannot be mandated by policy alone. It requires an ecosystem that continuously generates evidence. In peacetime, that evidence must come from realistic exercises, experimentation, wargaming, specialist exchanges, and mission-oriented task groups. Without such mechanisms, self-assessment risks becoming an exercise in opinion rather than observation. The value of these activities lies not merely in improving readiness but in exposing recurring institutional assumptions. Those assumptions should become inputs for doctrinal revision, professional military education, force design and personnel policy, creating a continuous cycle of institutional adaptation. As the Indian Army advances under the vision of VIJAY, perhaps the greatest opportunity lies not in discovering entirely new ideas, but in rediscovering an old one. Before studying the enemy, we must first possess the courage to study ourselves. For, in the end, armies are not transformed by the organisations they create, but by the questions they are willing to ask. There can be no stronger foundation for victory than institutional humility, and no better mantra for VIJAY than returning to the basic principle of strategy: know yourself.
