India's defence exports hit a record ₹38,424 crore in FY26, up 62.66% from the previous year. Ten years ago, defence was not a private-market story in the way it is now. The domestic industrial ecosystem was narrow, state-heavy, and deeply dependent on imports. How did we get here?
Let's find out. 🧵👇
To be clear, the dependence hasn't fully vanished. MP-IDSA noted last year, drawing on SIPRI data, that India was still the world's largest arms importer in 2019-2023, with around 9.8% of global imports. But something important has changed. Defence production has risen from ₹46,429 crore in 2014-15 to ₹1.50 lakh crore in 2024-25. In FY25 alone, the Ministry of Defence signed 193 contracts worth ₹2.09 lakh crore, of which ₹1.69 lakh crore went to domestic industry.
Ammunition is not like a tank or a radar. It's a consumable. In an intense conflict, shells, rockets, and propellants are burned through fast. That's why militaries maintain reserve benchmarks in the first place. If you're below both the floor and the cushion, you end up empty-handed as enemies come knocking.
A shortage like that doesn't appear overnight. For most of independent India's history, there was only one domestic source of ammunition: the Ordnance Factory Board, a large state-run network inherited from the British era. Private firms were effectively shut out. The OFB had a monopoly, and it wasn't meeting its own targets.
The CAG had been raising alarms since 2015. In some cases, the system had even lowered its own targets and still failed to meet them. The second source of ammunition was imports from Russia, but those came with technology transfer deals that never handed over the deepest design know-how or critical sub-systems.
This was India's defence procurement model for decades: a weak domestic monopoly, an unreliable external supplier, and a forty-day reserve requirement it was meeting for barely half its weapons.
Then came Russia's invasion of Ukraine in 2022, and it changed how the whole world thought about ammunition. Ukraine's pre-war stockpiles were depleted far faster than expected. NATO countries began drawing down their own inventories to resupply Kyiv. By late 2023, the chair of the NATO Military Committee said "the bottom of the barrel is now visible."
The lesson was uncomfortable and simple. Modern war consumes ammunition at a pace that peacetime systems are rarely built for. Good weapons, capable soldiers, and sound strategy matter less if you run out of shells.
For India, this landed in a very specific way. Its defence planning has long assumed the possibility of a two-front conflict with China and Pakistan simultaneously. That demands deep ammunition reserves. By the Army's own auditor's account, India didn't have them. In some of its most important categories, stocks wouldn't have lasted ten days.
The government had already started moving before Ukraine. In October 2021, it broke up the Ordnance Factory Board into seven separate corporate entities. The ammunition business went into a new company, Munitions India Limited, or MIL. The logic was that a corporate structure would create more accountability than an old bureaucracy ever had.
But the more important shift was outside the old state system. The private sector was finally brought in properly. Ammunition is not an industry companies enter lightly. It needs capital, land, specialist chemistry, safety systems, and confidence that demand will continue for years. No private company will spend hundreds of crores building a plant if orders might vanish after one procurement cycle.
So the government changed the economics. It began issuing longer-term supply contracts to private firms. Companies could now build capacity knowing demand wouldn't disappear.
By end of 2024, 154 out of 175 ammunition variants had already been indigenised, and the government said indigenous sources were being established for all types. The Indian Army's ammunition budget is around ₹20,000 crore a year. Until recently, 35-40% of that was being spent on imports. By 2024, that share had fallen below 10%. Over three years, the Army placed ammunition orders worth nearly ₹26,000 crore on domestic manufacturers.
Once a country builds serious ammunition capacity for security reasons, a new question appears. What happens to that capacity in peacetime? A plant built for wartime resilience doesn't stop needing orders when there's no war. That excess capacity can find a useful outlet in exports. India seems to have arrived at this logic, but from the other direction: we built capacity out of fear, not ambition.
MIL, now operating at greater scale, began receiving large export orders for artillery shells. As per Reuters, Indian-made shells were reaching Ukraine through European intermediaries, including Italian and Czech companies. India didn't sell directly to Ukraine and said it was monitoring the matter, but didn't officially move to shut the trade down either.
Estonia's defence minister spoke publicly about Indian companies setting up ammunition manufacturing lines in his country. Indian firms building shell capacity inside a NATO member state was not even a plausible conversation before the OFB breakup. That's a much bigger shift than a headline export number suggests.
The export record is one reason defence is back in market focus ahead of Q4 FY26 results. The sector now has the things markets care about: large order books, a visible procurement pipeline, and a state still directing serious capital toward domestic suppliers.
In February 2025, Solar Industries disclosed a ₹6,084 crore Ministry of Defence order for Pinaka rockets. By its most recent earnings call, its defence order book had reached around ₹18,000 crore and quarterly defence revenue had crossed ₹700 crore.
Bharat Forge is on the weapons-platform side of the same cycle. In March 2025, the Ministry of Defence signed contracts worth about ₹6,900 crore for the Advanced Towed Artillery Gun System with Bharat Forge as a key supplier. A few months later, it also figured in a ₹2,770 crore contract for over 4.25 lakh close-quarter battle carbines for the Army and Navy.
The industrial story is broader than the listed one. A meaningful share of India's ammunition capacity still sits with public-sector and unlisted players. The market offers a window into the theme, but not the whole picture.
A decade ago, ammunition was mostly a readiness problem and an institutional embarrassment. Today it's also an industrial category, with policy support, private capacity, export relevance, and listed companies with enough exposure for markets to care. The next phase depends on whether India can move beyond import substitution into deeper design control, stronger technology ownership, and repeatable export capability.
We cover this and one more interesting story in today’s edition of The Daily Brief. Read on Substack, watch on YouTube, or listen on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts; just search for “The Daily Brief by Zerodha.”
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
If you've ever wondered why Jensen Huang, the CEO of NVIDIA, is seen spending so much time in South Korea, you're not alone. Last week, Huang was seen eating Korean barbecue with executives from LG Group, SK Hynix, and Naver.🧵👇
At SK Hynix's Computex booth, he signed a wafer of next-generation memory chips. On it, he wrote three simple words, "Please Make More". Samsung, SK Hynix and Micron, the Big Three of the memory industry, are doing numbers like never before.
SK Hynix posted a 72% operating margin in Q1 2026, higher than NVIDIA's 65%. Samsung became only the second Asian company, after TSMC, to be worth a trillion dollars. Micron's revenue more than tripled year-on-year. The results of Samsung and SK Hynix propelled South Korea over India as the world's sixth-largest stock market.
For 25 years, India has had a rule requiring households to separate wet waste from dry waste. For 25 years, almost nobody has bothered. Kitchen scraps go into the same bag as plastic and paper, onto the same truck, dumped onto the same mountain at the edge of town.🧵👇
On April 1st, the government tried again, harder. The new SWM Rules 2026 require four separate streams, wet, dry, sanitary, and special care items like batteries. Bulk generators like apartment complexes are now legally responsible for processing their own wet waste.
A Delhi think tank, CEEW, put a number on what getting this right could mean. The wet half of India's urban garbage could become a $50 billion industry, generate 26 lakh jobs, and flip our waste from a growing emissions source into something net-negative, in two decades.
It was the afternoon of September 20, 2023. Three people sat down at a table at The Oberoi in Delhi. The hotel was booked in the name of Dr. Anand Burman, the chairman of Dabur, who had flown into India just for that meeting.
Across him was Dr. Rashmi Saluja, then the Executive Chairperson of Religare Enterprises. Along with Burman was Arjun Lamba, a representative of the Burman Group. That the meeting happened is not in dispute. Mobile tower records, hotel invoices, and WhatsApp messages all confirmed it.
What did they talk about? That's at the heart of SEBI's final order in a major insider trading investigation. According to Burman and Lamba, they were telling Saluja how the Burmans were five days away from announcing an open offer to take control of Religare.
At 3:38 PM on April 25, India demanded more power than it ever had in history. The grid handled 256 GW in a single instant. We had enough power to meet all that demand, about a fifth of which came from solar plants. The system had worked. 🧵👇
But the very same evening, once peak demand had subsided, the system failed. Seven hours after setting its record, India's power system came 4.2 GW short. The night before, at 10:34 PM, the grid fell 5.4 GW short. We couldn't find the power to feed the equivalent of 27 lakh rural homes.
In the second half of April, there were power shortages on 13 out of 15 nights. Curiously, those shortages didn't happen when demand was highest, that was earlier in the day. The shortages came later, at night.
In 2007, Sri Lanka wanted to build a port in Hambantota. It asked India to help finance it, but we realized the project was commercially unviable and said no. Sri Lanka then asked the US, and they also said no. 🧵👇
Colombo turned to China, which agreed to lend $307 million at 6.3% fixed interest. This was a normal commercial rate when Sri Lanka's own treasury bills were paying 12-14%. A decade later, Hambanota would become the most famous case of what commentators called "debt-trap diplomacy".
It's the idea that China deliberately lends to poorer countries knowing they cannot repay, then seizes their assets when they default. But a sovereign loan is almost never just commerce, nor just a trap. It's a bundle of development objectives, export contracts, and foreign-policy positioning.
We've been covering the wires and cables industry for three quarters now. Throughout, the story has consistently been in favour of the industry. Record revenues, strong demand, big plans. Meanwhile, the industry is moving away from unbranded, informal products.🧵👇
This quarter isn't different. But current growth has given way to some problems, the kind lesser companies would love to have. Revenue grew 20-30% across the board. But the amount of wire and cable that actually shipped barely budged. One company managed just 2% more volume than last year.
Polycab, the industry leader, posted its highest-ever quarterly revenue at ₹8,864 crore, up 27%. For the full year, it crossed ₹28,884 crore, up 29%. PAT for FY26 came in at ₹2,708 crore, up 32%. For the fourth consecutive year, Polycab is the most profitable in the industry.