For centuries, India and China have shared a long and uneasy border defined not only by mountains and rivers but also by a history of recurring conflicts. Although both nations have repeatedly attempted to ease tensions through dialogue, ministerial visits, and announcements of disengagement, mistrust continues to loom over the relationship. Each round of negotiations appears to reduce hostility only temporarily, without ever addressing the deeper fractures that define their ties.
Behind every official handshake lies Beijing’s steadfast alliance with Islamabad, a partnership that consistently complicates New Delhi’s calculus. China’s extensive military and economic cooperation with Pakistan—ranging from advanced weapons transfers to support for infrastructure corridors running through disputed territory—represents a direct challenge to India. This enduring “iron brotherhood” means that India’s relationship with China is never simply bilateral; it is overshadowed by China’s parallel and unwavering support for Pakistan.
The broader global context adds further complexity. As the United States under former President Donald Trump wages tariff wars with Beijing and redraws strategic alignments, some analysts speculate that India may find itself drawn closer to China. Yet the dilemma for New Delhi is not merely whether such a partnership is possible but whether it is wise. The elephant and the dragon may share economic ties worth over $100 billion, but the fault lines of trust remain as sharp as ever.
This fragility was on full display with Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi’s two-day visit to New Delhi, officially framed as an opportunity to reset bilateral ties. Wang met India’s External Affairs Minister S. Jaishankar, National Security Advisor Ajit Doval, and Prime Minister Narendra Modi, even as speculation grew about Modi’s possible first trip to China in seven years. Yet, the optics could not obscure the reality: nearly five years after the deadly Galwan clashes, 50,000 to 60,000 troops remain stationed along the Line of Actual Control. The standoff is not resolved; it has only hardened into a tense stalemate.
Compounding this mistrust is Beijing’s strategic embrace of Islamabad. Wang Yi’s decision to travel to Pakistan immediately after visiting India highlights the dual-track diplomacy that leaves New Delhi wary. While Chinese officials speak of stabilising relations with India, their government continues to provide Pakistan with submarines, fighter jets, and political backing. Beijing has repeatedly defended Pakistan diplomatically, even in the wake of Indian counterterrorism strikes, and recently hosted Pakistan’s army chief, General Asim Munir. To Indian observers, these moves signal that China speaks the language of peace in New Delhi but deepens military cooperation in Islamabad.
The history of Indo-China relations further reinforces Indian scepticism. The 1962 war, the 1963 cession of the Shaksgam Valley by Pakistan to China, and China’s repeated blocking of Indian efforts to blacklist Pakistan-based terrorists at the UN are constant reminders of Beijing’s duplicity. Moreover, projects like the $167 billion mega-dam on the Yarlung Zangpo, celebrated in China as a national triumph, are viewed by India and Bangladesh as strategic tools with profound ecological and geopolitical consequences. Added to this are Chinese survey ships in the Indian Ocean and Beijing’s outreach to Indian media circles, all of which raise suspicions about hidden intentions.
The China-Pakistan nexus is especially visible in the security domain. Whenever India takes firm action against cross-border terrorism, Beijing’s response tends to shield Pakistan. Chinese-supplied J-10C fighter jets are already deployed by Pakistani forces, and Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif’s recent inauguration of a Rocket Force Command with Chinese backing underlines the growing military depth of the alliance. To India, these developments are more than tactical challenges; they are evidence of Beijing’s willingness to undercut Indian interests while presenting itself as a responsible regional actor.
India’s engagement with China, therefore, is pragmatic rather than rooted in trust. New Delhi recognises that complete disengagement is neither feasible nor wise, given the scale of bilateral trade and the necessity of cooperation in multilateral platforms such as BRICS and the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation. But dialogue does not erase suspicion; it merely manages risk. Indian policymakers understand that while diplomacy may reduce friction, it cannot erase Beijing’s structural alignment with Pakistan or its pattern of undermining Indian interests.
History offers clear warnings. From the 1962 war to the 2020 Galwan clash, from the Shaksgam cession to China’s persistent blocking of India’s diplomatic initiatives, each episode underscores the dangers of misplaced trust. As Prime Minister Modi prepares for a possible trip to China and hosts Wang Yi in New Delhi, the optics of cordial diplomacy will dominate headlines. Yet beneath the polite communiqués and carefully staged handshakes lies a deeper, unresolved question: can India ever place genuine trust in China while Beijing maintains its unwavering partnership with Pakistan?
