India and Britain: Intelligence, Pragmatism and the Long Afterlife of Empire

From Shyam Bhatia

London. The intelligence relationship between India and the United Kingdom has endured far longer—and reached far deeper—than most observers realise. For more than seven decades, both nations have managed a complex blend of cooperation, competition and quiet respect, born out of shared interests that survived the end of empire.

This continuing story is masterfully reconstructed by Dr Paul McGarr of King’s College London in his acclaimed new study Spying in South Asia: Britain, the United States, and India’s Secret Cold War, published by Cambridge University Press. Drawing on recently declassified archives and interviews with officials in London, Washington and Delhi, McGarr’s research reframes the history of intelligence in post-colonial Asia and highlights India’s often-overlooked agency within it.

Speaking in an exclusive conversation in London, McGarr explained that his fascination with India began during his student travels and grew into a lifelong scholarly pursuit. “Intelligence studies have until very recently been dominated by Anglocentric literature,” he said. “I wanted to recover the missing story of India’s role in shaping the global intelligence landscape.”

McGarr traces the roots of this partnership to Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel’s 1947 decision to approve reciprocal liaison posts between British and Indian intelligence. “Patel essentially green-lighted a close relationship for two reasons,” he explained. “First, to rebuild India’s gutted intelligence capacity after the transfer of power; and second, to confront the perceived communist menace. MI5 possessed the technical and logistical expertise that India needed.”

That arrangement established a rhythm of pragmatic exchange that even Jawaharlal Nehru’s public non-alignment could not fully obscure. “Nehru was forced to balance national sovereignty against national security,” McGarr noted. “He held his nose and worked with the US and UK because he had little choice.”

Through the 1950s and 1960s, British, American and Indian agencies interacted constantly—sometimes in harmony, sometimes at cross-purposes. The CIA’s early presence in Delhi, tolerated for pragmatic reasons, coexisted uneasily with British influence. By 1959, during the Dalai Lama’s escape from Tibet, the Intelligence Bureau played what McGarr calls a “tangential but permissive” role, allowing CIA logistical support to proceed unhindered.

He also reveals that Nehru quietly approved U-2 reconnaissance flights from Indian soil in the early 1960s to monitor Chinese military and nuclear activity—an extraordinary concession for a leader publicly committed to non-alignment. “It was kept extremely quiet,” McGarr said, “but the intelligence product was valuable to India and briefly strengthened its hand against China.”

Meanwhile, the creation of RAW as external agency under RN Kao in 1968 marked India’s emergence as a professional intelligence power admired in Western circles. “Kao was respected by both the British and Americans,” McGarr emphasised. “His handling of the Kashmir Princess affair and his success in building RAW from scratch earned genuine plaudits.”

McGarr’s research depicts a relationship of competitive collaboration, one that oscillated between trust and verification. The alleged bugging of Tony Blair’s hotel suite during his 2001 visit to Delhi, he argues, merely confirmed a timeless truth. “Every country spies on its friends to some extent,” he told me. “The key question is whether both sides understand the boundaries and the benefits of the relationship.”

Even during the Cold War, Britain pursued dual objectives. “London saw Moscow as the main threat and wanted intelligence directed there,” McGarr explained. “India preferred to focus on China. The result was a dual-track effort: cooperation with Delhi against Beijing, and separate, covert monitoring of Soviet activity inside India.”

Yet the underlying spirit remained pragmatic. “There were moments of irritation,” he recalled, “but never a full rupture. Both sides understood the value the other offered.”

McGarr’s analysis also resonates with today’s geopolitical environment. He sees continuity between the covert alliances of the 1950s and the strategic partnerships of the 2020s. “The West has re-established a strong intelligence foothold in India,” he said. “Common concerns over terrorism, nuclear proliferation and China have restored habits of cooperation first forged in the early Cold War.”

At the same time, he acknowledges that India’s current intelligence posture reflects its own priorities. National Security Adviser Ajit Doval’s “enthusiasm for covert action,” McGarr observed, “owes more to domestic politics and the projection of strength than to imitation of Anglo-American models. But the structural inheritance of the colonial period remains unmistakable.

For Indian policymakers, McGarr believes this long history demonstrates the limits of decolonisation. “It tells us that decolonisation is not binary,” he said. “Centuries of shared institutions cannot be unwound overnight. Sovereignty and security often pull in opposite directions, and leaders have rarely been comfortable admitting that tension.”

The persistence of Anglo-Indian intelligence ties, he concludes, reflects not dependency but realism. “India has always known when to collaborate and when to keep its distance,” he observed. “That pragmatism—tested through empire, independence and the Cold War—remains one of India’s greatest strategic assets.”

(Shyam Bhatia is a veteran Foreign Correspondent and analyst. His forthcoming espionage novel, The Quiet Correspondent, is being published by Juggernaut Books in January 2026.)