New Delhi, Sept 26: For more than six decades, a needle-nosed jet with Soviet origins has defined the story of Indian air power. The MiG-21, inducted in 1963, was India’s first supersonic fighter. Its retirement this week closes a chapter that shaped the Indian Air Force (IAF), for better and worse.When it first arrived, the aircraft catapulted India into the jet age. At twice the speed of sound and capable of climbing with blistering acceleration, it transformed the IAF into a modern fighting force. License-built by Hindustan Aeronautics Limited, it became not just a staple of Indian squadrons but also a symbol India-Moscow unity, a major defence cooperation. BBC said that over the years, India acquired more than 870 of these machines, turning them into the backbone of its fleet.Media and defence analysts suggest that the MiG-21’s combat record is both celebrated and controversial. In the 1965 war against Pakistan, it was still a newcomer, flown mainly as an interceptor. By 1971, it had evolved into a versatile multi-role fighter, striking targets deep inside Pakistani territory and dominating aerial encounters. In Dhaka, MiGs bombed the governor’s house, signalling the crumbling of Pakistan’s eastern command. Its agility in close combat and adaptability to Indian conditions helped shape not only battlefield outcomes but also India’s doctrine of air superiority.Yet alongside this combat pedigree grew a darker reputation. As the aircraft aged and India struggled to replace it, accidents multiplied. Between 1971 and 2012, more than 480 crashes were recorded as reported by BBC quoting officials, claiming the lives of over 170 pilots. The unforgiving design, a single engine, high landing speeds, and tricky descent characteristics, meant errors were rarely forgiven. Each mishap added weight to its grim nickname: the “flying coffin.” For young pilots, flying the MiG was both a rite of passage and a risk to survival.The paradox of the MiG-21 lies in its longevity. Conceived as a short-lived Cold War interceptor, it remained in Indian service for six decades, far beyond its intended shelf life. This endurance was less about preference and more about necessity. The Light Combat Aircraft (LCA) Tejas, meant to replace the MiG, was conceived in the 1980s but delayed by decades. Bureaucratic inertia and procurement inefficiencies forced the IAF to keep extending the MiG’s service life, even as other air forces moved on to more modern fleets.Globally, the MiG-21 was among the most widely flown supersonic jets, serving in over 50 countries from Vietnam to Egypt. In India, however, its story is uniquely intense: a machine that not only fought wars but also exposed structural weaknesses in the defence ecosystem. Its crashes became a political issue, highlighting the risks of delay in defence modernisation.Now, as the last squadrons retire, the IAF faces a familiar dilemma. With only 29 operational fighter squadrons against a sanctioned strength of 42, India enters a period of numerical shortfall. New platforms like the Tejas are slowly filling the gap, while imported fighters and a proposed next-generation programme aim to stabilise the force. But for the foreseeable future, the absence of the MiG-21 will be felt both emotionally and strategically.For many veterans, the MiG was more than metal. It was a machine that demanded respect, rewarded skill, and punished complacency. For the nation, it was both a source of pride and a reminder of neglect. Its departure is neither a simple farewell nor a celebration—it is a burial of contradictions: a fighter that made history, and a coffin that claimed too many lives. The MiG-21’s last roar over Indian skies will be brief, but its echo will linger. Few aircraft have left behind such a chequered legacy of glory and grief.
