When the news came out on July 13, 2025, that ULFA-I and the PLA of Manipur claimed their camps in Myanmar were hit by drone strikes, it was tempting to dismiss it as another round of militant theatrics. These groups aren’t exactly known for modesty when it comes to casualty claims. But the details that followed were hard to ignore: three senior leaders killed, nearly twenty fighters injured, and actual drone wreckage found at the site. That doesn’t sound like a story they just made up.
“Sending drones across the border is more than just counter-insurgency-it’s a direct challenge to sovereignty.”
The claim that WARMATE loitering munitions were used makes this more serious. These aren’t homemade drones cobbled together in a garage. They’re advanced systems linked to Israeli and French designs. If pieces of those drones are really sitting in the ruins of the camps, India’s official denial starts to look flimsy. Three camps, Waktham Basti, Hoyat Basti, and Hakiyot, were reportedly wiped out. That’s not some random explosion; it points to a deliberate and coordinated strike.
What unsettles me is not just the question of whether India carried out the attack but what it means if it did. Myanmar may be unstable and fragmented, but it’s still a sovereign state. Sending drones across the border is more than just a counter-insurgency tactic. It’s a direct challenge to the idea that borders mean anything. And once that line is crossed, it’s not easy to walk it back.
This isn’t without precedent. In 2015, Indian special forces crossed into Myanmar in what became known as Operation Hot Pursuit, killing dozens of militants. At home, it was celebrated as bold, but it also set a tone. It showed India was willing to disregard borders when it felt security demanded it. Ten years later, if drones are being used, it’s not a surprise; it’s the next step in that playbook.
Then came the awkward timing. Just three days after the strikes, an Indian military delegation led by Lt Gen Shrinjay Pratap Singh showed up in Myanmar for “border security talks.” That coincidence doesn’t sit well. If you hit someone’s backyard and then arrive with handshakes and polite language, it looks less like diplomacy and more like damage control. People in the region notice, and trust erodes quietly but quickly.
“Credibility is fragile, and once it’s gone, it’s tough to rebuild.”
Part of the reason drones are attractive is that they make aggression easier. No troops to risk, no funerals at home, just a clean strike and a clean denial. It’s convenient until evidence surfaces, and in this case, it apparently has. For a country that positions itself as a responsible regional power, India can’t afford to look like it’s playing games with the truth. Credibility is fragile, and once it’s gone, it’s tough to rebuild.
There’s also the human angle. Strikes on militant camps aren’t happening in isolation. These areas have villagers nearby, families who’ve lived in those borderlands long before militants set up shop. Every bomb that falls risks pulling civilians into the conflict, directly or indirectly. And when insurgents get hit, they often retaliate where it hurts India the most: in its own northeast, against soft civilian targets. That cycle ends up punishing ordinary people, not just the militants.
Myanmar’s own political mess complicates things further. Since the coup in 2021, the central government has been struggling to hold onto authority. Cross-border strikes from India only weaken that authority and open the door wider for other powers, especially China, to step in. That doesn’t strengthen India’s security; it risks making the region even more volatile.
Indeed, India’s options aren’t simple. These insurgencies have dragged on for decades, and the border is too porous to control fully. From a purely tactical point of view, drones offer precision without risking Indian soldiers’ lives. But tactics are only part of the story. The strategic cost of being caught red-handed in another country’s territory is far greater than the short-term benefit of destroying a few militant camps.
“Every strike risks pulling civilians into the conflict, punishing ordinary people more than militants.”
So, the real question is whether India wants to admit to this path. If it did carry out the strikes, it would only damage credibility further. If it didn’t, then it should welcome an open investigation, because the optics right now are damning. Either way, brushing it under the rug isn’t going to work.
At some point, every country must decide how it wants to be seen. Power isn’t just about drones and missiles; it’s about restraint and accountability. Expanding drone warfare into Myanmar without admitting it undermines India’s own long-term interests. South Asia and Southeast Asia are already stretched thin by coups, insurgencies, and great-power rivalries. The last thing the region needs is another player acting like borders are optional.
“Power isn’t just about drones and missiles; it’s about restraint and accountability.”
India has often spoken of itself as a responsible power, one that respects rules even when others don’t. That image matters, but it only matters if the actions line up. If New Delhi wants its neighbours to trust it, it must show that it can fight insurgency without destabilizing the region in the process. Otherwise, every strike chips away at the very credibility India needs to lead.
Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author. They do not represent the views, beliefs, or policies of the Stratheia.