By Parth Singh and Shimrath G
The October 2024 agreement on troop disengagement and patrolling in the eastern part of Ladakh is, after many years of tensions, bringing relief on the India-China border area. According to Reuters, the deal allowed both countries to resume patrolling areas that were previously sources of contention for a long time — and, most importantly, enabled the resumption of negotiations, which had been on hold since the 2020 crisis. The spirit of these efforts could also be felt during the 16th BRICS summit in Kazan (2024), when Xi Jinping and Narendra Modi were talking about stabilizing their relations, with India apparently being keen to restore regular dialogue with China. Which raises an awkward question: can a dispute with origins in colonial-era borders be solved using the methods of contemporary statecraft?
The answer depends partly on how India chooses to understand its past. Public debates on India–China relations often reduce the boundary dispute to a zero-sum contest over maps and international law. Yet, as A.G. Noorani’s research on colonial-era frontiers demonstrates, the ambiguity surrounding the India–China frontier stems from a series of treaties, policies and practices shaped by inconsistent strategic assumptions. By “colonial proceedings,” this refers to the piecemeal, often unilateral way British India drew its northern boundary — through instruments like the 1914 Simla Convention, internal India Office correspondence, and administrative map-making that was never fully ratified or accepted by China. Drawing on unpublished British archival material, Noorani’s research traces the internal deliberations among colonial policymakers and shows that British officials themselves disagreed over how firmly the frontier arrangements should be implemented, rather than presenting a single settled position that later governments simply inherited. Historian Srinath Raghavan’s research reaches a similar conclusion, treating the frontier as a negotiation rather than a fixed inheritance. This matters for the argument because it shows the boundary “problem” was less a fixed historical fact than a product of shifting colonial strategy — which is precisely why India’s present-day approach shouldn’t be bound by it. Understanding this nuance isn’t just an academic exercise — it explains why present-day India-China ties look the way they do, shaped by choices and constraints that trace back to that history. India’s strategy should be guided by history rather than constrained by it. Additionally, as both nations develop into significant military and economic powers with growing influence in international organizations, India’s strategic culture must simultaneously be aware of its past, engage diplomatically, stay prepared militarily, and think beyond the next news cycle.
The McMahon Line adds another layer to this colonial legacy — showing the limits of legal claims in international relations. British authorities, pushing to extend their reach into Tibet and the region beyond it, let imperial ambitions — not legal clarity — drive the Simla Convention of 1914 and the line it produced. The line remained contested: China rejected the arrangement, while British officials themselves disagreed over how firmly it should be implemented. Its ambiguous legal status continued to fuel diplomatic discord after Indian independence. The 2024 agreement shows that talks between China and India can ease tensions amid severe military hostilities. As a result, India should manage its relationship with China by combining historical knowledge with adaptability. The MEA’s official material on India–China relations, along with Tanvi Madan’s research on great-power perceptions of China, shows why that balance is hard to strike.
However, strategic clarity requires more than regular meetings between foreign ministers.
Infrastructure along the northern frontier will stay central to India’s national security policy — but roads, bridges and tunnels alone won’t secure long-term stability. That takes institutions: closer coordination between policymakers, the military, intelligence agencies, and diplomats, so hard power and diplomacy move together rather than at cross purposes — coordination that will matter more as India’s international influence grows. Existing mechanisms already point the way: consultations through the WMCC, established in 2012 to institutionalize border-related information exchange, alongside Corps Commander-level talks and other military channels, have helped maintain communication and reduce uncertainty. Strategic disagreements are unlikely to be resolved through these channels, but they can control military and political perceptions if institutional resilience is combined with actions to boost confidence. The more general lesson is that states need to create institutions that not only handle current crises but also lessen the likelihood of future ones. Successful statecraft means controlling rivalry while avoiding unnecessary conflict — combining historical insight with geopolitical assessment and diplomatic pragmatism, and pushing India’s China policy beyond immediate security concerns.
The October 2024 deal is a start, not an endpoint. India still needs other levers to secure its strategic interests — diplomacy on its own won’t settle this. India’s foreign policy establishment knows that. It has consistently supported a multi-track approach rather than putting all of its bets on discussions. Stay in touch with China even when relations sour. That’s what 2020 to 2024 taught us — military, diplomatic and political channels stayed open, and it kept both sides from reading too much into the wrong signal. Talking to a rival isn’t weakness — it’s a display of confidence. Going forward, India’s China policy needs both a clear-eyed sense of history and the flexibility to act outside it.