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Indian Sailors Are Paying the Price of Great Power Sanctions

Indian Sailors Are Paying the Price of Great Power Sanctions

Indian Sailors Are Paying the Price of Great Power Sanctions

The killing of three Indian sailors near Oman and the prosecution of Captain Ajay Pant in Britain reveal a growing danger for Indian maritime workers caught between law, war, oil, and geopolitics. The sea has always been a difficult workplace. For Indian seafarers, it is now becoming a geopolitical danger zone.

Within a span of days, two incidents have brought this danger into public view. Three Indian sailors were killed after a United States strike on the Palau flagged tanker MT Settebello near Oman. Soon after, Britain charged Indian captain Ajay Pant for allegedly breaching sanctions by commanding the Russian linked tanker Smyrtos, which was seized after an operation involving British commandos in the English Channel. Reuters reported that Britain’s National Crime Agency said Pant had been charged with contravening sanctions related to the supply or delivery of prohibited Russian oil or oil products.

These are not isolated maritime episodes. They are signs of a larger global condition in which commercial shipping, energy sanctions, naval enforcement, criminal prosecution, and war politics are beginning to converge. At the centre of this convergence are seafarers, many of them Indian nationals, who work on vessels they do not own, sail routes they do not decide, carry cargo they may not control, and face consequences arising from geopolitical disputes they did not create.

“Shipowners calculate profit. Governments impose sanctions. Naval forces enforce them. But Indian sailors may be arrested, injured, or killed.”

The British case must now be treated with legal care. Captain Ajay Pant is an accused person, not a convicted offender. The prosecution must prove its case before a competent court. The questions of knowledge, intent, command responsibility, documentation, cargo origin, ownership structure, and operational control must be tested through evidence. In a serious legal system, sanctions enforcement cannot become a public spectacle where guilt is presumed because a vessel is politically inconvenient.

Still, the incident raises a difficult question for India. How prepared is New Delhi to protect its maritime workforce when sanctions enforcement moves from shipping companies and financiers to individual officers serving on board?

The case of MT Settebello is even more disturbing because it involves the death of Indian citizens. Reuters reported on June 10 that three Indian sailors were missing after an attack on the oil products tanker off Oman, while 21 other Indian crew members were rescued. Later reports said the three, identified as Chief Engineer Patnala Suresh, Deck Cadet Aditya Sharma, and Fitter Shivanand Chaurasiya, were killed. The Times of India reported that a US official claimed the vessel had ignored around 60 verbal warnings before the strike.

Even if Washington’s allegation of blockade violation is taken at face value, the killing of civilian seafarers cannot be treated as a minor operational consequence. Merchant vessels are not warships. Sailors are not combatants merely because the cargo is controversial or the route is politically sensitive. The use of force against commercial shipping demands a high threshold of necessity, proportionality, warning, rescue obligation, and post incident accountability.

This is where India must insist on clarity. Were the Indian sailors individually warned? Was the vessel given sufficient time and opportunity to comply? Were non-lethal options exhausted? Could the ship have been disabled without killing crew members? Was rescue assistance immediate and adequate? Were the families informed with dignity? These are not emotional questions. They are legal, diplomatic, and humanitarian questions.

The diplomatic handling of the issue has deepened the unease in India. The controversy widened after the US State Department released details of a phone call between External Affairs Minister S. Jaishankar and US Secretary of State Marco Rubio. According to reports citing the American readout, Rubio told Jaishankar that all commercial vessels in the Strait of Hormuz must comply with instructions issued by US forces, and that violations of the US blockade and the illicit transport of Iranian oil would not be tolerated.

The wording was significant. It came after the confirmed deaths of Indian crew members and after India had lodged a formal protest. Reports said Jaishankar conveyed India’s strong protest and stated that lethal action against commercial shipping was not acceptable. The Guardian reported that Indian anger increased as the US position appeared to defend the strike while offering no apology or condolence.

What disturbed many in India was not only the substance of the American position, but also its tone. The US statement appeared to place military compliance above the loss of Indian lives. Congress MP Shashi Tharoor expressed this sentiment sharply when he wrote that he was deeply shocked by the absence of regret or condolence in the official US response. He also asked whether the vessel could have been disabled through non-lethal means rather than through action that killed civilians.

This criticism cannot be dismissed merely as opposition politics. It raises a question that goes to the core of strategic partnership. If India is a close partner of the United States, the death of Indian civilian sailors should have produced immediate regret, a transparent explanation, and a credible inquiry. A strategic partnership cannot be reduced to military instructions when Indian citizens are dead. It must also include responsibility, sensitivity, and accountability.

The larger issue is that sanctions are no longer confined to banking channels, insurance certificates, ownership records, and cargo documents. They are now being enforced at sea through boarding operations, seizures, detentions, criminal charges, and, in the Gulf, military strikes. This creates an unstable and dangerous environment for seafarers from labour supplying countries such as India, the Philippines, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, and Indonesia.

India has one of the world’s largest pools of trained maritime professionals. Indian officers and crew serve across global fleets. A seafarer may be Indian, the vessel may be Palau flagged or Cameroon linked, the owner may be hidden behind layered corporate structures, the manager may be located in another jurisdiction, the cargo may originate from a sanctioned state, and the voyage may pass through a contested maritime zone. In such a chain, responsibility becomes scattered. Risk, unfortunately, lands on the crew.

This is the moral imbalance at the heart of the present crisis. Shipowners calculate profit. Charterers move cargo. Governments impose sanctions. Naval forces enforce them. But the seafarer may be arrested, injured, or killed.

India cannot afford to respond only after incidents occur. It needs a clear maritime protection framework for its citizens working abroad. This must include stronger advisories on sanctioned routes and high risk vessels, mandatory legal awareness for officers joining tankers linked to sanctioned trades, emergency consular protocols, coordination with manning agencies and shipping companies, and a compensation and repatriation mechanism for families affected by foreign military or law enforcement action.

New Delhi must also engage more firmly with Washington and London. With the United States, India must demand a transparent investigation into the strike that killed its nationals. With the United Kingdom, it must ensure that Captain Pant receives full consular access, competent legal defence, and a fair trial. Diplomatic protest alone is not enough. The test of diplomacy is not the sharpness of the statement, but the protection delivered to citizens.

There is also a need to separate state policy from individual culpability. India may have its own energy interests. The West may pursue sanctions against Russia and Iran. But Indian seafarers should not become convenient symbols in enforcement campaigns. If a captain knowingly participates in sanctions evasion, the law must examine that conduct. But if crew members are employees operating under contractual obligation, the law must not confuse employment with conspiracy.

The world depends on merchant shipping. Oil, food, medicines, fertilisers, machinery, and essential goods move because seafarers accept long separations from home and difficult working conditions. When great powers turn trade routes and energy flows into instruments of pressure, they also assume a duty to protect civilian life at sea.

For India, these incidents must be a warning. The country cannot celebrate its maritime workforce in peaceful times and leave its sailors exposed in moments of geopolitical confrontation. Indian seafarers are not expendable labour in a sanctions war. They are citizens, professionals, and breadwinners.

The deaths of Indian sailors near Oman and the prosecution in Britain should lead to a serious national review. India must know where its seafarers are serving, what risks they face, what legal traps may await them, and how quickly the state can intervene when they are endangered.

The oceans are becoming more militarised, more surveilled, and more legally complex. Indian sailors will continue to sail through them. The responsibility of the Indian state is to make sure they do not sail alone

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