This is the Most Dangerous Border in the World

It’s the night of 15th June 2020 in the Galwan Valley, a contested region claimed by both India and China. While most of the world was still practising social distancing, an event was about to take place that was so chaotic, so ridiculous, so extreme, it’s hard to believe that it was all true.

On that night, two groups of men met on a high ridgeline, close to 4,200 metres (14,000 ft) above sea level, armed with iron bars, clubs, and rocks. Some say it was all prearranged in advance. Others say it was an ambush, but by which side, we’re not sure.

Exact details are sketchy, probably as both sides would like them to be, but as the dust settled, the results were horrifyingly clear. Men from both sides were dead, and reports suggested that soldiers were briefly taken captive and later released, though official statements were inconsistent.

The enormous brawl that took place in the Galwan Valley, with reportedly 600 men taking part, carried the savagery of a medieval battlefield, and yet, these were soldiers from two nuclear nations that have long eyed each other with disdain and distrust – China and India.

Welcome to the most dangerous border in the world.

The Line That Doesn’t Exist

It’s easy to think of borders, especially in the 21st century, as precise, long-established boundaries. We all know where the United States stops and Mexico begins. We know where France becomes Spain, and we certainly know where the DMZ line divides North and South Korea.

Most borders are pretty easy. But not all.

The region that saw the Galwan Valley clash includes the Line of Actual Control (LAC) – a vague, at best line that divides China and India. But the problem is that for a set border to work, both sides need to agree on where it is. And in this case, you have two sides with border aspirations that actually overlap.

The other issue is that this border stretches roughly 3,400 km (2,100 miles) – which is three-quarters of the distance from New York to Los Angeles – across high-altitude terrain, complete with glaciers and hidden valleys.

The border is usually divided into three sectors. In the western sector, it runs through Ladakh and Aksai Chin, where Galwan is located and where much of the recent tension has been focused. The middle sector, covering parts of Himachal Pradesh and Uttarakhand, is comparatively quieter. Then, in the eastern sector, it runs through Arunachal Pradesh, an Indian state that China also claims in large part.

I hope you’re with me, because the geopolitical situation in this area gets dizzyingly complex.

Aksai Chin is a high-altitude desert that appears on most maps as China, but is claimed by India. This area is particularly important to the Chinese government because it connects two sensitive regions, Tibet and Xinjiang, by road. I’m sure we don’t need to go into Tibet, but Xinjiang arguably faces even more restrictions. It is home to several minorities, including the Uyghurs, who, according to numerous reports, have been subjected to systemic persecution since 2017, including forced labour camps, religious suppression, and political indoctrination.

This is an area that China is very delicate about.

India points to the Johnson Line, which was drawn by the British in the 1860s, that placed Aksai Chin within the princely state of Jammu and Kashmir. When India gained independence and partitioned in 1947, Jammu and Kashmir acceded to India, so it was their understanding that it would include the Aksai Chin region.

But, of course, there’s always a different map. The Chinese point to a different British map created in 1899, where the Macartney–MacDonald Line places Aksai Chin within China. They also claim it follows a more realistic natural boundary, while asserting a stronger connection with the people of Aksai Chin than in India.

Over in the west, we have a similar situation, but in reverse. Arunachal Pradesh typically appears as India on most maps, but is claimed by China. India points to yet another map and yet another line, this time the McMahon Line, drawn in 1914 during the Simla Convention. These were negotiations between British India and Tibet, that placed Arunachal Pradesh within British India territory. No surprise then that this is what the Indian government today points to.

But hold your horses India. China rejects the McMahon Line outright, stating that the Tibetan government had no authority to sign such a border agreement and the whole thing was essentially a colonial setup that stole land from Tibet – which was actually always China anyway.

Confused? That is the state of things along this monstrous borderline. But actually, we shouldn’t talk about it as a singular. Both India and China have their ideas of what the border is, and if you were to put them on a map, they would weave in and out of each other. It’s a recipe for disaster, and disaster has happened several times.

All Change

Before 1947, things were relatively stable in the region. With the British in power, there were definitive borderlines, and because China hadn’t invaded Tibet yet, the mountainous Buddhist country acted as somewhat of a buffer state. But in the space of just a few years, everything changed.

India gained independence in 1947 and partitioned into India and Pakistan shortly after, which, by the way, was an absolute horror show that saw as many as 2 million people die and up to 20 million become displaced as Muslims and Hindus desperately tried to scramble into the country of their religion. The partition left a deep scar that still hasn’t healed. The India/China border is hotly disputed, but the India/Pakistan border isn’t much better.

Anyway, once India emerged as a single independent country, it naturally wanted to tighten and define these new borders. As we’ve seen, they predominantly looked to British maps drawn decades, if not more than a century before, to set their boundaries.

In truth, there really wasn’t anything else to base a boundary on. Before the British arrived, India had been a patchwork of smaller kingdoms and states. For those to the north, close to China and Tibet, where the Himalayas powered skyward, borders were always a loose term. Once India became independent, it found itself as a country that it had never been, meaning there were limited historical boundaries that pre-dated the British.

Then, in 1950, Chinese forces entered Tibet, and by 1951 Tibet had been brought under their control. Suddenly, India and China, two vast nations still trying to find their way during a tumultuous 20th Century, became neighbours.

At first, everything seemed great. They both supported each other internationally, both railed against imperialism and pointed fingers at the United States and the United Kingdom.

Delegations visited, parties were thrown, food was eaten, and for a short time in the 1950s, it looked like this was a match made in heaven.

And it was so glorious, there was even a slogan invented for it, Hindi-Chini bhai-bhai – which translates to the warm and fuzzy, India and China are brothers. It was a love worthy of any Hollywood romance. But, of course, it couldn’t last.

Despite all the hand shaking and back slapping, there remained some very core problems, and the biggest was that nobody quite knew where India began and China ended, and vice versa. But at this point, neither side wanted to make too much of a fuss, so everybody pretended that eternal love was in the air.

Tension

It all began to unravel with a simple road. During the love-in of the 1950s, both China and India were happy to turn a blind eye to their border issues, which was fine. At the time, they loved each other, but it only needed a spark.

Let’s go back and look at the Aksai Chin region, tucked up on the northwestern frontier between the two countries, and also just a metaphorical stone’s throw from the powder keg that was Pakistan-controlled Kashmir. At this point, in the 1950s, it was roughly claimed by both countries, but nobody wanted to rock the boat.

However, China very quietly started building a major road, today part of the G219 highway through the region. How did India not notice a highway being built in their territory? Well, this is not your typical territory. While the area closer to China resembles a desert, as you get closer to India, you run into the Karakoram Range, a formidable mountain group that further east includes the big-hitters of Gasherbrum I and K2.

The point is, this isn’t a part of the world where you can easily go out for a walk to check on your neighbour.

At first, scraps of information about a road got back to Delhi, but by the time a serious patrol was put out, the road that now linked Tibet and Xinjiang had been finished. This 1,200 kilometres (750 mi) road brought plenty of changes, most notably that China could now get troops down towards a sensitive border in a matter of hours, rather than days.

The Indian reaction was as expected. Why the hell have you built a road through our territory? And the Chinese response was equally expected. What do you mean? We just built a road through our own territory. All of that circling the issues without daring to point them out had come home to roost.

However, there wasn’t much that India could do except grumble and point to old lines drawn by the British long ago. Even when Chinese border posts started appearing in the region, there wasn’t a whole lot that could be done.

But then the perfect opportunity arrived for a bit of payback. In 1959, Tibet exploded into a full uprising against Chinese control. China responded with overwhelming force, with nearly 90,000 Tibetans killed as a result. The Dalai Lama, who had remained in Lhasa, now fled south into India, where he was granted asylum – which infuriated China.

This man represented a direct challenge to Chinese influence over the region, and they would have loved nothing more than to throw him in jail for the rest of his life and wait until his name slipped from the consciousness. But, that didn’t happen, and to this day, the Dalai Lama has remained in India, a constant thorn in China’s side.

These two separate incidents had raised tensions, and it wasn’t long until that translated to actions on the ground. Both sides began sending patrols out to check on what was happening, and the two sides soon came into contact, but always in a semi-unofficial capacity. Words might be spoken, maybe some shoving, but that was often about it.

Much of this situation came about because of India’s ‘Forward Policy’ that was enacted in 1961, where Indian troops started setting up small, forward outposts along what they believed was their border. Eventually, 60 such posts were set up. They wanted to assert their presence and prevent any further incursion by Chinese troops, but many of these outposts were isolated, to say the least. They were so far out that the idea of calling for backup was non-existent, and their actions relied on the assumption that China wouldn’t escalate things – which they got wrong.

And this is where a bizarre game of cat and mouse began. China would move a border post further forward, then India would build three, effectively encircling the solitary post. China, in response, would either withdraw from the original post, or, and this is where things got a little ridiculous, build more that encircled the ones that encircled the original. If that makes sense.

It was all getting a bit like a Monty Python sketch – and I know many of you have no idea who that is, but it’s worth YouTubing after. It was starting to get absurd, and tempers were fraying.

It Begins

Starting in 1961 and 1962, there were numerous reports of clashes between Chinese and Indian soldiers around these outposts. In Longju, in the eastern sector, Chinese forces reportedly pushed Indian troops out of a forward post, while at the Kongka Pass, in the western sector, a violent clash left Indian soldiers dead and captured. While the soldiers were soon released, the relationship between the two countries was sinking rapidly.

Leaders met, which meant talk after talk, but no progress was ever made. India said this. And China said this. And that’s how it always was. When negotiations reach this point, the only real option is force.

But things were just getting started. In July, a skirmish left 12 Chinese soldiers dead, and in response, 350 men surrounded an Indian border post. For a brief period, it looked like a massacre was in the offing, but the Chinese eventually backed away.

The situation was now boiling out of control. As summer came to an end, there were regular engagements between the two sides, but all remained relatively minor. However, in September, there was a major confrontation on Thagla Ridge that saw deaths on both sides, and this was also the moment that Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru changed his military directive from firing only in self-defence, to firing on any Chinese soldier in Indian territory. The fighting on Thagla Ridge came to an end on October 10th, and it was clear to just about everybody that full-scale conflict was imminent.

But before we come to the Sino-Indian war, it’s worth having a quick look at both sides at this point, and their reasons for going to war. China and India are both massive countries and in 1962, their combined populations, China with 650 million and India with 470 million, represented around a third of all people on Earth. These were densely populated countries, but, importantly, not in the areas of conflict.

Despite the two nations now standing on the verge of war, it was like neither really wanted a full-scale conflict. Both were relatively young countries in their current form, and a lot of this was more about prestige and posturing than anything else.

According to George N. Patterson, a Scottish engineer working as part of the Tibetan resistance, India’s reasons for war were threefold.

• Test Chinese resolve and intentions regarding India.
• Test whether India would enjoy Soviet backing in the event of a Sino-Indian war.
• Create sympathy for India within the U.S., with whom relations had deteriorated after the Indian annexation of Goa.

From the other side, things were no less convoluted. Declassified CIA documents drawn from sources in China at the time showed that the reasons were also broadly threefold.

• To punish the Indians for encroaching on their territory and, once and for all, stamp their authority.
• To break, or at least affect, what the Chinese government saw as the Indian-U.S-Soviet encroachment on China.
• To push back on what they saw as India’s expansionist plans after the annexation of Goa in 1961.

One important thing to remember here is that even though India had reasons to aggravate a conflict, they weren’t exactly ready. And according to further CIA documents compiled at the time, India had been focusing much more on economic expansion than on its military, whereas China had absolutely focused on its military with a standing army above the two million mark.

And then there was timing. For China, at least, it seemed to be the perfect moment to have a large-scale squabble. While China was certainly focused on the Himalayas, at the time, the threat of an invasion from Taiwan, and the Republic of China under Chiang Kai-shek’s leadership was a far more pressing concern. But in July, the U.S. government gave China reassurance that no such invasion was anywhere near, allowing the nation to focus solely on the disputed regions with India.

And finally, there’s another reason why the timing was spot on. If you’ve ever wondered why you’ve never really heard of the China–India war that erupted in October 1962, it’s because the rest of the world was looking elsewhere in barely disguised dread that World War Three was about to start. You see, by some odd coincidence – and, of course, it wasn’t a coincidence at all – the Sino-Indian War took place at almost exactly the same time as the Cuban Missile Crisis. Both sides had been moving troops into the area for months – more so in China’s case – but when it became clear that the United States, a firm supporter of India, was focused elsewhere, it became the perfect time for China to strike.

Sino-Indian War (Part 1)

It began on 20th October 1962 – just as the world was glued to events occurring in Cuba, thousands of miles away. Soldiers of the People’s Republic of China (PRC) launched two attacks, 1,000 kilometres (620 mi) apart – in the west in Chip Chap valley in Aksai Chin, and in the east, around the Namka Chu river. Most reports state that the Indian soldiers were caught completely off guard, and after 4 days of intense fighting, Chinese soldiers had bulldozed around 16 kilometres (9.9 mi) south of the control line and claimed much of the disputed areas they sought.

Then came a three-week lull in which both sides vaguely attempted some diplomacy, but the problem was that Chinese troops were now so far past disputed lines that India found itself in a weakened negotiating position.

Their eventual response was to strike back on the 14th November, which just so happened to be Prime Minister Nehru’s birthday. But it was little more than a vanity attack. Chinese troops immediately pushed back, and it quickly became clear that, once again, Indian troops were ill-prepared, badly supported and lacking the same tactics that the Chinese had.

Indian troops were, however, valiant beyond belief. Despite the chaotic support system around them, despite their lack of resources, and despite facing overwhelming numbers of Chinese soldiers, they fought with remarkable courage, and this was never more evident than in the Battle of Rezang La.

Rezang La is a mountain pass in Ladakh that sits at 4,900 metres (16,000 ft) and on the 18th November 1962, it was defended by 120 Indian soldiers of Charlie Company of the Kumaon Regiment. What came next, and more importantly, the narrative handed down to generation after generation, differs depending on whether you are Chinese or Indian.

In China, the story goes that a group of Indian soldiers were quickly displaced at Rezang La by a powerful Chinese force of 700 with the loss of just 21 men. In China, it’s just another successful battle in a war that was pretty much all going in their favour.

But in India, they tell a very different story. The geography of the region meant that there was no room for artillery support, and with neither side choosing to bring their air forces into the war, the 120 men on Rezang La were completely alone as an estimated 3,000 Chinese soldiers approached. If this all sounds a little 300 Spartan Warriors to you, you’re not that far off.

According to reports, Indian soldiers held off 7 waves of Chinese soldiers, before finally being overrun, with the remaining Indian soldiers withdrawing to high ground. Both sides generally agree that of the 120 Indian men at the start of the battle, only 6 survived. China claims that only 21 men died in Rezang La, while India estimates Chinese fatalities at around 1,400.

There’s obviously plenty of propaganda at play here from both sides, but curiously, both tell the same story in the battle’s aftermath. Once the last bullet had been fired, Chinese troops reportedly placed blankets over the bodies of the Indian soldiers and placed a bayonet on top as a sign of respect for their fellow soldiers.

And this, sadly, was the prevailing story for the Indians during the Sino-Indian War – heroic stands, and courageous fighting, but ultimately failure.

On 19th November, the Chinese reached their claim line, and stopped. The next day, Zhou Enlai, the Chinese Premier at the time, issued a formal ceasefire, stating that Chinese troops would pull back a set amount in each of the sectors. The day before, India had requested air support from the United States, who had agreed and had an aircraft carrier steaming into place.

This is one of those sliding door moments where things could have gone very differently and a lot more people would have died, but India agreed to the ceasefire conditions. After the ceasefire, Chinese forces withdrew in the eastern sector, but China retained control of Aksai Chin in the west.

The war had undoubtedly been won by China, but its international image had taken a dent as it was almost universally seen as the aggressor. In India, a lot of soul-searching brought major changes to its armed forces and its military preparedness. Never again would India be caught so unprepared. The country reported 1,383 killed during the conflict (4,897 killed or wounded according to China), while Chinese records say 700 PRC soldiers were killed during the war, with Indian sources putting Chinese deaths in the low thousands.

One response inside India, a little petty and more than a little malicious in hindsight, but you understand why it happened, was the interment of thousands of Chinese citizens living in India. Soon after the war, the Indian government passed the Defence of India Act in December 1962, which essentially gave it the power to detain indefinitely any citizen of a ‘hostile origin.’ In reality, this meant Chinese people or Indian citizens with Chinese ancestry, and an estimated 10,000 were rounded up across India.

Thousands were sent to the desert POW camp in Deoli, Rajasthan, that had been built during World War II to house Japanese, German, and Italian prisoners. Sadly, many died from heat stroke and disease, and while they were released in stages, the final inmate was not set free until 1967 – 5 years after the war.

Three Days in 1967

And speaking of 1967 – it didn’t take long for it all to erupt again. Yes, there had been shaky peace, but there hadn’t been any progress on the underlying issues – both sides had very different territorial claims. And both sides really didn’t like each other, even more so after the 1962 war.

This time, things began in a different region, in the central sector on the Sikkim-Tibet border in a valley pass named Nathu Lu. This is where, because of the narrow arch of the valley, Indian and Chinese troops were only 25–30 metres apart, the closest they were at any stretch of the border. In August 1967, the Indians became furious that a set of ditches dug by the Chinese had woven into their territory, so they decided to lay some barbed wire down – which infuriated the Chinese. A verbal argument became violent, before both sides retreated to their respective corners to lick their wounds.

The following day, Indian soldiers began laying a wire down the centre as a visible marker, which, again, the Chinese took exception to. The same thing happened – arguments, shoving, you know how it is, but eventually the Chinese retreated. The Indians undoubtedly carried on with a certain smugness, that is, until machine gun fire started raining down on them from the Chinese positions.

The Indian soldiers suffered heavy casualties in those early exchanges before gathering themselves and hitting back with devastating artillery that destroyed most of the Chinese bunkers. The fight was fierce and near constant for three days, before the guns fell silent, and dead bodies were exchanged.

Each side blamed the other for blatant provocation, but if we’re completely honest, this one felt a little like two children fighting over a prize toy – except, of course, a couple of hundred people died because of that toy. And yet, remarkably, things weren’t done. Just two weeks later, a couple of kilometres away, another scuffle led to another firefight, which led to more deaths. The fighting at Cho La lasted only a day, yet it was another grizzly notch on the ever-growing list of bloody grievances between the two countries.

But before we move on, we’re going to stay in Sikkim because this area would prove controversial just eight years later. At the time of the clashes in Nathu Lu and Cho La, in 1967, Sikkim was not technically part of India, but rather a protectorate, as it had been under the British. Sikkim had, in fact, been an independent nation with its own monarchy, but with its position between Nepal, Tibet, Bhutan, and later British India, it always led a charmed life. First it fell under Tibetan control, then was invaded by both Nepal and Bhutan, before finally coming under British Indian control in 1861.

Then, of course, Tibet became part of China in the 20th Century, meaning China now shared a border with this region, which, as I said, at the point of these clashes, was a protectorate. In this case, a protectorate meant a territory that governs its internal affairs and keeps its monarchy but places key external powers—usually defence and foreign policy—under the authority of a stronger state, in this case India.

From China’s point of view, that meant this area wasn’t officially India, so perhaps they felt like they could throw their weight around with a bit more force than they otherwise would. But things were changing in Sikkim. In 1973, there were open demonstrations against the monarchy, and in 1975, a referendum passed with a huge majority that meant that Sikkim formally joined India.

China, and Pakistan, for that matter, called the entire process a farce, but with the support of both the United States and the Soviet Union, a rarity in those days, the matter soon came to a conclusion and that meant the border between India and China became 225 kilometres (140 miles) longer. Not a huge amount, in the grand scheme of things, but it was yet another needle of discontent in this long story.

Bigger Bombs

By the time India became a little bigger in 1975, the threat level in the region was significantly higher, with both nations joining the exclusive nuclear club.

If the Korean War had taught China anything, it was that if you want to play with the big boys, you need to have the biggest toys – or in this case, the biggest bombs. A couple of years later, during the 1955 Taiwan Strait Crisis, which saw armed conflict between the PRC and the Republic of China (ROC) on several ROC-held islands close to mainland China, that became more evident than ever.

When U.S. President Eisenhower threatened the PRC with a nuclear attack if they invaded Taiwan, there wasn’t really much Mao could do but yield to his demands and back down. But it wrangled the Chinese despot, and he informed his cabinet to do whatever they needed to obtain a nuclear weapon in the coming decade.

Fortunately for China, they were still on best-buddy terms with the Soviet Union at this stage, who was glad to help, share data and even undergo the search for uranium alongside the Chinese. However, best buddies don’t always last forever and in 1958, after a falling out over differing communist ideologies, the Soviet Union withdrew its assistance and the prototype boosted fission weapon that had been promised by Moscow.

So China had to go it alone, and that is where Project 596 was born. Now, at this stage, the United States was well aware of China’s intentions, but without the USSR, it was assumed China wouldn’t get very far. How wrong they were. In 1964, a bomb had been constructed, and on 16th October, a uranium-235 fission implosion device, weighing 1550 kilograms was detonated on a 102-metre tower at the Lop Nur Test Base. In terms of China-India tensions, things had swung heavily in China’s favour.

India’s nuclear program had begun back in the 1950s, but with only civilian uses. In 1958, the first nuclear reactor named APSARA became operational at Trombay, thanks to a reactor given to them as part of a joint U.S-Canadian initiative. And things remained relatively primed towards peaceful means until the 1962 war with China, after which, many in India started asking whether these tools for good could have a few tweaks needed to build a bomb or two.

Yet still not all were convinced, and it wasn’t until 1966 that things kicked into gear. India’s first bomb arrived in 1974, with the wonderfully named Smiling Buddha test, which was carried out at the Pokhran Test Range on the 18th of May – a test that India referred to as a peaceful nuclear explosive.

And so, as we reach the mid 1970s, China and India both loathed each other, and now both pack a fledgling nuclear arsenal. Which obviously meant more danger, but as with the United States and the Soviet Union, when both powers have a bomb, they tend to cancel each other through the Mutual Assured Destruction doctrine. If you drop a bomb, we’ll drop five, then you’ll drop ten, and before you know it, there’s not that much left of China and India.

Talking & Fighting

The next few decades saw a lot of ups and downs, back and forth, talks, but also the occasional scuffle.

It started well, and in 1976 both countries restored ambassador-level diplomatic ties. Things were looking good, but old habits die-hard, and less than a decade later, the two sides were again eye to eye during the Sumdorong Chu standoff.

It began when Indian patrols discovered Chinese troops had moved into the Sumdorong Chu Valley, an area near Arunachal Pradesh that both sides claimed. China established a temporary presence, signalling intent without launching any kind of conflict. Basically, it was like finding a heavily armed squatter in your garden shed. Options were limited for the Indians.

But India reacted. Under General K. Sundarji, it launched Operation Falcon, airlifting troops to nearby high ground, particularly the Hathung La ridge, giving India a tactical advantage, overlooking Chinese positions. Tensions escalated fast as thousands of troops faced each other at extreme altitude, with the real risk of escalation into war. Yet neither side fired a shot.

The crisis ended quietly through diplomacy, and high-level talks followed. Then, in 1988, Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi visited Beijing and met Deng Xiaoping, the Chairman of the Communist Party at the time. There weren’t any magic fixes, but the two sides at least tried to put aside their border disputes for the time being and focus on actually getting along like good neighbours.

During the 1990s, something shifted, and two agreements came to define this new phase. First, the 1993 Agreement on the Maintenance of Peace and Tranquillity, then, the 1996 Agreement on Confidence Building Measures.

And while you wouldn’t exactly say they sorted out their territorial issues, they did at least introduce clear, on-the-ground rules.

• Troop numbers near the border would be kept in check.
• Large military exercises close to the frontier would be avoided.
• Commanders on both sides would stay in contact, using direct communication channels.
• And perhaps most important of all—both countries agreed to reduce the risk of accidental escalation and in particular the use of weaponry.

It was essentially both sides saying we have disagreements that we can’t solve, but let’s try to not blow up every few years. And by and large, it worked. The 1990s and 2000s saw relatively few incidents. Note the use of the phrase relatively few, because, after all, this was China and India and sometimes they couldn’t help themselves.

There were instances in 2009, 2013, and 2014 that could have gone bad, but both sides just about managed to keep their cool, and calm prevailed.

Then, in the summer of 2017, a remote plateau few had heard of suddenly became one of the most dangerous flashpoints in recent decades. It began when Chinese construction crews started extending a road southward across Doklam, territory claimed by Bhutan.

Doklam sits close to India’s Siliguri Corridor—a narrow stretch of land often called the ‘Chicken’s Neck.’ It connects mainland India to its northeastern states, and any shift in control near this region raises serious security concerns.

India again acted fast. Troops crossed into Doklam from the nearby Doka La post, siding with Bhutan and physically blocking Chinese construction. What followed wasn’t a firefight, but a tense, silent confrontation. Soldiers from both sides stood metres apart. No shots fired, but there wasn’t going to be a retreat either.

For over two months—73 days—this continued. China demanded India withdraw immediately, arguing that Indian troops had crossed an international boundary. India insisted it was acting in defence of Bhutan and to maintain the status quo at the tri-junction.

Troop numbers increased and the kind of heavy equipment that can kill hundreds crept closer on both sides. The rhetoric picked up, both sides obviously blaming each other, and it seemed only a matter of time until a spark would set it all off, and the region would plunge into war. And remember, we’re now talking about two nuclear nations with a combined population of around 2.75 billion.

But behind the scenes, diplomacy was going into overdrive. Neither nation wanted a fight, but neither could be the one to lose face and back down first. In August 2017, both sides agreed to disengage together. India pulled back its troops, and China halted road construction at that location.

And once again, peace held—but only just.

Rumble in the Himalayas

And so, we come full circle. Maybe it was the added tension of COVID-19, but in 2020, China and India really went at it. But forget nuclear weapons, forget even guns. This time things would be settled with fists, sticks, stones, and iron rods. Things were about to get old-school.

One major source of tension was India’s work on border infrastructure, especially the Darbuk–Shyok–DBO Road in Ladakh – a road that improved India’s access to remote military positions near the border, something the Chinese took exception to.

But China had been expanding its own infrastructure across the Tibetan Plateau for years, building roads, bases, communication systems, and support facilities close to contested areas. This meant both sides entered this new crisis with stronger logistics and a greater ability to hold ground.

It began with a minor skirmish on 5th May at Pangong Tso, a lake in Ladakh where the LAC runs through contested ground, but things quickly rippled out and there were other incidents. Chinese troops moved forward at several points in eastern Ladakh, including Pangong Tso, Galwan Valley, Hot Springs, Gogra, and the Depsang area. According to Indian reports, Chinese forces crossed into Indian territory, put up tents, brought in vehicles, and began reinforcing positions – generally making themselves feel at home. China denied all of this, and it instead blamed India for building its new road and moving troops forward.

Tensions were gradually climbing. Either high-level intervention was needed, or things were about to spiral badly out of control. In the Galwan Valley, that’s exactly what happened between the 15th and 16th June.

How it all started is sharply disputed. The Indians say they were ambushed by the Chinese who pushed boulders from the ridges above, while the Chinese say they were charged by the Indians. Some third-party reports suggested it was even an organised brawl. However, what we do know is that in the middle of the night, on a ridge high above the Galwan River, two groups of soldiers met – one Chinese, one Indian.

Remarkably, not a single bullet was fired during the fight that lasted six hours, and which eventually involved as many as 600 soldiers. This was hand-to-blood-hand combat. Sticks, stones, fists, according to reports, some soldiers even carried clubs wrapped in barbed wire. It was medieval combat. Men fought on a steep ridge above a freezing river in darkness and chaos. Some fell from heights, some were lost in the river below. Others died from wounds and exposure.

India confirmed that 20 of its soldiers were killed, including Colonel B. Santosh Babu. China admitted four casualties later, though the exact number remains disputed, with Indian media sources putting that closer to 50. It’s also widely believed that both sides took captives that were later released.

Tensions did not end with Galwan. In late August, the standoff widened to the southern bank of Pangong Tso near Chushul. India moved quickly to occupy several key heights on the Kailash Range, including ridgelines that overlooked Chinese positions. That gave Indian forces a tactical advantage for a time and raised the pressure on Beijing.

In early September, shots were fired along the LAC for the first time in 45 years. Both sides accused the other of firing warning shots, which showed how badly the old border management system had broken down.

Throughout the crisis, both armies kept building up. China expanded camps, roads, helipads, bunkers, surveillance networks, and air support facilities in Tibet and Xinjiang. India rushed workers into border zones to complete road projects, improve transport links, and support military logistics. Both sides prepared for winter deployment in one of the harshest environments in the world. Troops needed heated shelters, fuel, winter clothing, rations, ammunition, and constant resupply at extreme altitude.

Yet even while the military build-up continued, diplomacy never stopped. The two countries held repeated talks at several levels: local commanders, brigadiers, major generals, corps commanders, foreign ministry officials, defence ministers, and foreign ministers. They used existing border mechanisms and set up round after round of meetings. Progress was painstakingly slow, but partial disengagement finally took place in Galwan, Hot Springs, and Gogra during June and July 2020, and a larger pullback at Pangong Tso happened in February 2021.

Tensions have eased, but honestly, for how long? Despite the hundreds of talks about their border disagreements over the decades, things are basically exactly the same as they were back in the 1950s. You could argue that China is a little ahead because of their success in the 1962 war, but there’s not much in it. Both sides are entrenched and nobody is budging.

You might not think of the India-China border as being the most dangerous border in the world, but with a pattern of violence and hatred stretching back to the early 1960s, this is an area that is constantly on a knife edge. Forget nuclear weapons. Forget long-range missiles. This is a place where battles are fought hand to hand.

Where weapons are whatever you can find. Where the terrain is vertical and virtually inhospitable. Where hatred leads to men swinging barbed wire clubs at one another in the 21st Century, far from formal oversight and the public eye.

Frequently Asked Questions

What happened during the Galwan Valley clash on June 15, 2020?

On the night of June 15, 2020, approximately 600 Chinese and Indian soldiers engaged in hand-to-hand combat on a high ridgeline in the Galwan Valley at roughly 4,200 meters above sea level. Armed with iron bars, clubs, rocks, and some weapons wrapped in barbed wire, the soldiers fought for six hours without firing a single bullet. India confirmed 20 of its soldiers were killed, including Colonel B. Santosh Babu.

China initially did not admit casualties but later acknowledged four deaths, though Indian media sources estimated Chinese casualties closer to 50. Reports suggested soldiers were briefly taken captive and later released, though official statements were inconsistent.

What is the Line of Actual Control (LAC)?

The Line of Actual Control (LAC) is a vague, disputed boundary that divides China and India across roughly 3,400 km (2,100 miles) of high-altitude terrain including glaciers and hidden valleys. Unlike established borders, both sides do not agree on where it lies, and their respective border claims actually overlap. The LAC is typically divided into three sectors: the western sector through Ladakh and Aksai Chin (where Galwan is located), the comparatively quieter middle sector through parts of Himachal Pradesh and Uttarakhand, and the eastern sector through Arunachal Pradesh, an Indian state that China largely claims.

What were the causes of the 1962 Sino-Indian War?

The 1962 Sino-Indian War was triggered by multiple factors. China had quietly built the G219 highway through Aksai Chin, linking Tibet and Xinjiang, which India discovered too late. India’s ‘Forward Policy’ of 1961 established 60 forward outposts along what it believed was its border, encircling Chinese posts. Tensions escalated through 1961-1962 with clashes at Longju and Kongka Pass.

According to George N. Patterson, India’s reasons were to test Chinese resolve, test Soviet backing, and create U.S. sympathy. Declassified CIA documents showed China’s reasons were to punish Indian encroachment, break perceived Indian-U.S.-Soviet encirclement, and push back against Indian expansionism after the annexation of Goa. The war began October 20, 1962, coinciding with the Cuban Missile Crisis when U.S. attention was diverted.

What happened during the 1967 clashes at Nathu La and Cho La?

In August 1967, at Nathu La pass on the Sikkim-Tibet border, Indian and Chinese troops were positioned only 25-30 meters apart. India laid barbed wire to mark territory after Chinese ditches encroached, leading to arguments and shoving. The next day, when Indian soldiers continued laying wire, Chinese forces opened machine gun fire. India responded with artillery that destroyed most Chinese bunkers.

Fighting continued fiercely for three days before ceasing with body exchanges. Two weeks later, another clash occurred at nearby Cho La, lasting one day. At the time, Sikkim was an Indian protectorate, not formally part of India, which China viewed as justification for more aggressive action.

How did India and China become nuclear powers?

China pursued nuclear weapons after the 1955 Taiwan Strait Crisis, when U.S. President Eisenhower threatened nuclear attack. With initial Soviet assistance that was withdrawn in 1958 due to ideological differences, China developed Project 596 independently. On October 16, 1964, China detonated a uranium-235 fission implosion device at Lop Nur Test Base.

India’s nuclear program began in the 1950s for civilian purposes, with the APSARA reactor becoming operational in 1958. After the 1962 war, India shifted toward weapons development, culminating in the ‘Smiling Buddha’ test on May 18, 1974, at Pokhran Test Range, which India termed a ‘peaceful nuclear explosive.‘

What was the 2017 Doklam standoff?

In summer 2017, Chinese construction crews began extending a road southward across Doklam, territory claimed by Bhutan, near India’s strategically vulnerable Siliguri Corridor (‘Chicken’s Neck’). India crossed from Doka La post to physically block Chinese construction, siding with Bhutan. For 73 days, soldiers from both sides stood meters apart in a tense silent confrontation without firing shots, while troop numbers and heavy equipment increased.

China demanded Indian withdrawal, claiming boundary violation; India insisted it defended Bhutan and maintained status quo at the tri-junction. Behind-the-scenes diplomacy led to simultaneous disengagement in August 2017: India pulled back troops, and China halted road construction at that location.

What agreements were made in the 1990s to manage India-China border tensions?

Two key agreements defined the 1990s phase of India-China relations. The 1993 Agreement on the Maintenance of Peace and Tranquillity and the 1996 Agreement on Confidence Building Measures introduced clear on-the-ground rules: troop numbers near the border would be kept in check; large military exercises close to the frontier would be avoided; commanders on both sides would maintain direct communication channels; and both countries agreed to reduce risk of accidental escalation, particularly regarding weaponry use. These agreements essentially acknowledged that territorial disputes could not be solved immediately, but sought to prevent periodic violent outbreaks.

What was the Sumdorong Chu standoff of 1986-1987?

The Sumdorong Chu standoff began when Indian patrols discovered Chinese troops had moved into the Sumdorong Chu Valley near Arunachal Pradesh, an area both sides claimed. China established a temporary presence without launching conflict. Under General K. Sundarji, India launched Operation Falcon, airlifting troops to the Hathung La ridge, gaining tactical advantage overlooking Chinese positions.

Thousands of troops faced each other at extreme altitude with real risk of war escalation, yet neither side fired a shot. The crisis ended quietly through diplomacy, followed by high-level talks. In 1988, Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi visited Beijing and met Deng Xiaoping, attempting to put aside border disputes temporarily.

What happened to Chinese citizens in India after the 1962 war?

Soon after the 1962 war, the Indian government passed the Defence of India Act in December 1962, giving it power to indefinitely detain any citizen of ‘hostile origin.’ This primarily targeted Chinese people or Indian citizens with Chinese ancestry. An estimated 10,000 were rounded up across India. Thousands were sent to the Deoli POW camp in Rajasthan, originally built during World War II for Japanese, German, and Italian prisoners.

Many died from heat stroke and disease in the desert conditions. While releases occurred in stages, the final inmate was not freed until 1967—five years after the war ended.

What were the outcomes of the 1962 Sino-Indian War?

The 1962 Sino-Indian War began October 20, 1962, with Chinese attacks in the western Chip Chap valley and eastern Namka Chu river. After four days of intense fighting, Chinese soldiers advanced approximately 16 km south of the control line. Following a three-week lull and failed diplomacy, India attacked November 14 (Nehru’s birthday) but was repelled.

Notable was the Battle of Rezang La, where 120 Indian soldiers held off estimated 3,000 Chinese troops before being overrun, with only 6 survivors. China reached its claim line November 19; Premier Zhou Enlai declared ceasefire November 20, with troops withdrawing set amounts. China retained Aksai Chin in the west but withdrew in the eastern sector.

India reported 1,383 killed (China claimed 4,897 killed or wounded); China reported 700 killed (Indian sources estimated low thousands). The war led to major Indian military reforms and damaged China’s international image as perceived aggressor.

Sources

• Original Places video: This is the Most Dangerous Border in the World
• Hero image source by Saga1111 / openverse, by-sa.