Tejas at Singapore Airshow 2022: Sale calls for full court diplomacy

While industry watchers rate the Tejas Mark 1A highly, there is concern over haste with which Indian team was despatched to Singapore; and a feeling that New Delhi is participating without clear aims

An Indian Air Force (IAF) detachment of Tejas Mark 1 fighters, supported by a 44-person team, is performing aerobatic displays over Changi International Airport in Singapore from Tuesday to Friday. This is one of the keenly watched attractions of the Singapore Airshow 2022.

The IAF team is there at Singapore’s invitation as a prospective vendor in “Capability 55” — the code name for the Royal Malaysian Air Force’s (RMAF’s) plan to buy 18 light fighters in the coming year and another 18 starting 2025. Malaysia will choose from a bouquet of light fighters on offer. Besides the Tejas Mark 1A, it has been offered the South Korean FA-50 Golden Eagle, the Russian MiG-35 and the Chinese-Pakistani JF-17 Thunder, which already equips the Pakistan Air Force (PAF). Also competing are two smaller jet trainers: Leonardo’s M-346FA and the Russian Yakovlev-130.

While industry watchers rate the Tejas Mark 1A highly, there is concern over the haste with which the Indian team was despatched to Singapore; and a feeling that New Delhi is participating without clear aims and objectives.

In the Tejas’ first international outings — including the Bahrain International Airshow in 2016, the Langkawi International Maritime Aerospace Expo (LIMA) in 2019 and the Dubai Airshow 2021 last November — the emphasis was on demonstrating flying performance. But while the IAF and Hindustan Aeronautics Ltd (HAL) had put together attractive flying displays, there was no clear understanding of what they were intending to achieve.

“We did not adequately examine crucial questions. Our short-term customers (Malaysia, Sri Lanka, UAE) were evident, but who were our medium-to-long-term customers? What was our aim in participating in those air shows? In what aspects did we need to impress potential buyers?” said a former test-pilot with extensive experience in flying the Tejas.

Given New Delhi’s Atmanirbhar Bharat (self-reliant India) policy, a key aim of participating in international air shows was for India to establish itself as a vendor, rather than a buyer, of military aircraft. This would focus attention on the Tejas at a time when buyer countries were sending out Requests for Information (RFIs) and Requests for Proposals (RFPs). It was felt that the Tejas’ reputation would be burnished by flying faultless aerobatics in the presence of a chosen audience.

“In fact, the way to sell fighters is not to have them repeat aerobatics, day-after-day. It might be better for the vendor to play and replay simulated combat missions, which directly address the national security needs of the buyer,” says an IAF pilot.

A defence industry executive likens the opportunity presented by an air show to dealing with a rich buyer walking into an exclusive store after having made an appointment. In both cases, it must be pre-decided who would be the designated salesperson, who would support him, and what arguments and materials he would use to convince the buyer.

Seriousness is further conveyed by preparing a composite team in advance for briefing and conducting the buyer. The team must include representatives from the platform developer (in this case, the DRDO), the production agency (HAL) and the user (the IAF).

Major defence sellers usually have a dedicated department to address buyers’ concerns. The Pentagon has an Office of Defense Cooperation (ODC) to oversee the sale of weaponry. In Russia, defence exports are handled through Rosoboronexport.

India has no such dedicated agency; only responsibilities distributed between departments. To boost defence exports, a “munitions list” has been promulgated; a standard operating procedure (SOP) has been put in place for the export of those items; an end-to-end online portal has been developed for receiving and processing authorisation permission; along with several other export promotion measures. 

However, other than a small cell in the Department of Defence Promotion, no agency is specifically charged with all export-related functions.  

Such a department would provide institutional expertise in dealing with issues such as end-user certification and the complex permissions needed to sell an aircraft (like the Tejas) that has systems and subsystems from various countries. Permissions would be needed to transfer an airborne radar from Israel, an ejection seat from the UK and a glass cockpit from France.

Discussing and resolving such issues is the real business of an air show, where government-to-government and government-to-business meetings are set up well in advance.

For an emerging exporter such as India, presenting a new fighter in a high-profile air show would require clear lines of authority and control. In an event like the Singapore Airshow, a locally based official, such as India’s military advisor in the embassy in Singapore should have been given ownership of the exercise.

For flying the Indian flag, an Indian Navy destroyer should have been deployed to Singapore well before time. While displaying New Delhi’s presence prominently, this would have also provided a suitable venue for pull-aside discussions with the RMAF. 

True, the Ministry of Defence (MoD) will have rented a chalet for delicate discussions outside the limelight. But, a higher degree of government participation is signalled by hosting a meeting on a warship. And the helicopter deck of a destroyer provides an unmatched venue for hosting a cocktail party, serenaded by a navy band.

The MoD and the IAF did not respond to a request for comments.

When air debacles hit sales, or didn’t

• Fielding aircraft in an air show might, or might not, lead to sales orders, but any debacle in an air show is usually disastrous. An example is the Tupolev-144, which the Soviet Union billed as the world’s first supersonic airliner — it first went supersonic on June 5, 1969, four months ahead of the Concorde, and flew at Mach 2 on May 26, 1970. But a fatal Tu-144 crash at the Paris Air Show in June 1973 dealt a death blow to the programme.

• Similarly, on October 10, 1984, an F-20 Tigershark fighter, which Northrop was developing for the export market, crashed in South Korea on a demonstration flight. An investigation cleared the F-20 of mechanical or design faults, but then another Tigershark crashed in May 1985 at Labrador, killing the pilot who was practising his aerobatic routine for the Paris Air Show.

• On the other hand, disaster could be turned into triumph, as the Russians did in Paris in 1989, after a MiG-29 Fulcrum, flown by the legendary Russian test pilot Anatoly Kvochur, crashed after a bird hit. As the stricken aircraft plummeted towards the ground, Kvochur steered it away from the crowd and ejected 2.5 seconds before the fighter hit the ground. Miraculously, he landed unharmed, just 30 metres from the blazing fireball of the crashed plane. The Russians talked up his Zvezda K-36D ejection seat as a pilots’ saviour, and reinforced the argument after a second crash four years later, when two MiG-29 pilots successfully ejected after colliding in mid-air.