Fog of Denial: India’s Rafale Debacle Deepens as Western Partners Demand Answers

(DEFENCE SECURITY ASIA) — In the wake of a deeply embarrassing series of reported aerial losses in the recent conflict with Pakistan, India’s refusal to allow French auditors access to its Rafale fleet has raised red flags across the global defence community.

Sources across international defence media and open-source intelligence channels indicate that Dassault Aviation, the French manufacturer of the Rafale fighter jet, dispatched an investigative audit team to India to determine whether systemic aircraft issues contributed to the alleged shootdowns.

However, the Indian government has reportedly blocked the team’s access to its Rafale squadrons, sparking speculation that New Delhi is shielding deeper operational vulnerabilities from external scrutiny.

On May 17, Pakistani Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif alleged that his country’s air force had shot down six IAF fighters during what has become the most serious military exchange between the two nuclear-armed neighbours in nearly two decades.

Earlier Pakistani statements claimed five additional kills, including three Rafale multirole fighters, one Su-30MKI, and one MiG-29—all supposedly brought down by advanced Chinese-built PL-15E missiles fired from J-10C fighters operated by the Pakistan Air Force (PAF).

Later, the Prime Minister added the sixth Indian fighter aircraft that was shot down was a Mirage 2000, which Pakistan claims was downed by PAF fighters during a nocturnal operation over Pampore, east of Srinagar, between May 6 and 7.

Pakistan’s Foreign Minister Ishaq Dar declared, “The much-hyped Rafales have failed catastrophically, and Indian Air Force pilots have proven to be unskilled,” escalating the psychological and diplomatic dimensions of the conflict.

 

According to regional defence sources, the downed aircraft were likely targeted by PAF-operated J-10C or JF-17 Block III fighters, both employing the long-range PL-15 BVR missile developed by China’s Airborne Missile Academy.

The J-10C, developed by Chengdu Aircraft Industry Group (CAIG), represents the cutting edge of China’s fourth-generation-plus fighter design, while the JF-17 “Thunder”—a joint effort between CAIG and Pakistan Aeronautical Complex (PAC)—has become Islamabad’s cost-effective backbone for multirole air operations.

Reports suggest some IAF aircraft may have been engaged from standoff distances up to 182 kilometers, taking full advantage of the PL-15’s estimated 200–300 km range and its AESA radar-guided seeker, which provides high kill probability in beyond-visual-range (BVR) scenarios.

The initial air clash between the two rival air forces has been described by observers as “the largest dogfight of the 21st century,” involving approximately 125 fighters from both sides and testing the limits of networked warfare, air-to-air missile envelopes, and tactical coordination.

Analysts believe that PAF’s J-10C fighters may have executed these engagements while remaining within Pakistani airspace, launching PL-15s at Indian Rafales during the early phase of hostilities, illustrating the new reach of air dominance without territorial infringement.

Meanwhile behind the scenes, analysts suggest India fears the French may attempt to pin the Rafale’s reported failures not on the aircraft itself, but on Indian pilot competency, maintenance shortfalls, and structural readiness issues that have plagued the Indian Air Force (IAF) for over a decade.

Such fears are not without basis.

A damning report by the Comptroller and Auditor General (CAG) of India and the Parliamentary Standing Committee on Defence—released just months before the conflict—confirmed that the IAF was operating with a shortfall of 596 pilots, an increase from the 486 reported in 2015.

The report further revealed that attempts to recruit and train 222 additional pilots between 2016 and 2021 failed, intensifying the IAF’s operational shortfall.

Compounding the problem was the poor serviceability of India’s Pilatus PC-7 Mk-II trainer fleet, a Swiss-built workhorse crucial to pilot instruction, with persistent delays undermining basic readiness.

At the time of the Pakistan conflict, the IAF fielded only 31 operational fighter squadrons—well below the 42 squadrons mandated by Indian military doctrine—leaving the force dangerously thin for sustained high-tempo combat.

French defence officials are understandably concerned their aircraft are being unfairly scapegoated for failures rooted in structural issues within the Indian military ecosystem—particularly when Rafales, if used as intended with proper integration, maintenance, and training, have proven lethal in other theatres.

Yet the blame game has become a two-way street.

India, frustrated with long-standing constraints, has reignited its public criticism of Dassault’s refusal to provide access to the Rafale’s source code—an issue that has loomed since the initial $8.7 billion acquisition deal was signed in 2016.

 

Without this source code, Indian engineers are unable to perform critical software modifications, update mission systems, or integrate indigenous weaponry without French approval—crippling sovereign control over a frontline fighter in a conflict zone.

This lack of access has become more than a technical grievance; it’s now a strategic liability.

Critics within Indian defence circles argue this raises a broader question about whether Western arms suppliers are committed partners or just vendors protecting proprietary systems at the cost of India’s operational autonomy.

Adding geopolitical sting to the controversy, Chinese commentators have leapt at the opportunity to ridicule New Delhi’s predicament.

Following the conflict, where at least one largely intact PL-15 air-to-air missile was reportedly recovered by India after an engagement with Pakistan’s Chinese-built J-10C fighters, Chinese “wolf warrior” diplomats took to social media to mock the Indian Air Force.

“India spent $288 million per Rafale, and they don’t even have access to the source code,” one Chinese official posted on X.

“These Indians also claim they can ‘extract the software’ from the burnt-out wreckage of a PL-15 missile. Yet, they can’t even access the core functions of their own Rafale jets?”

While the jibe was caustic, it underscored a shifting strategic landscape where Chinese-built systems are not only operationally competitive—but in some cases outperforming their Western analogues in combat scenarios.

The PL-15, reportedly responsible for multiple Rafale shootdowns, is China’s premier beyond-visual-range missile, guided by AESA radar with an estimated range exceeding 200 km.

Deployed aboard Pakistan’s J-10C—an aircraft co-developed with heavy Chinese technical input—the PL-15 grants the PAF a significant edge in first-shot capabilities against Indian fighters still reliant on older Meteor and MICA systems.

For India, the possibility that Chinese-made jets and missiles outmatched Western-supplied Rafales on the battlefield isn’t just humiliating—it’s strategically destabilizing.

For decades, India’s defence procurement has been predicated on the assumption that high-end Western systems would deliver a qualitative edge over adversaries reliant on Chinese and Russian equipment.

That paradigm is now under existential review.

Even if the Rafales weren’t destroyed, the mere fact that Dassault sought to investigate—and India blocked it—speaks volumes about the widening trust gap between manufacturer and end-user.

This divide has become political as well.

India’s opposition parties have seized on the Rafale controversy to reignite allegations of procurement irregularities, calling the aircraft’s combat underperformance proof of systemic flaws in the acquisition process.

The Ministry of Defence now finds itself grappling with an uncomfortable truth: the war with Pakistan has exposed the IAF’s brittle readiness, procurement vulnerabilities, and lack of operational depth.

Questions are now being asked at the highest levels about whether future purchases should focus on enhancing sovereign capability—through local development and technology transfer—rather than outsourcing air superiority to Western vendors reluctant to relinquish control over core systems.

Beyond India, the war’s implications are global.

For Pakistan, the combat effectiveness of its J-10C fighters armed with PL-15s represents a seismic shift in regional deterrence, validating a procurement path rooted in strategic cooperation with Beijing.

For China, the PL-15’s success is an unequivocal endorsement of its arms export model—cost-effective, integrated, and increasingly lethal.

And for Western aerospace giants like Dassault, the fallout is deeply damaging.

The Rafale, once billed as an elite multirole platform capable of dominating fourth- and fifth-generation threats, now finds itself questioned—not just by its enemies, but by its own customers.

Ultimately, whether India’s failures stemmed from training gaps, poor maintenance, or limitations in the Rafale itself, the strategic result is indisputable.

India failed to secure air dominance in a war it believed it was technologically primed to win.

Now, New Delhi is left to reckon with an uncomfortable question: was it outmatched by Pakistan’s Chinese-built systems—or outsmarted by its own overconfidence and reliance on foreign technology?

Either way, India’s airpower doctrine is due for a hard reset—and fast.

— DEFENCE SECURITY ASIA