India’s red-hot initial public offering market may look irresistible as foreign firms line up for listings, but the rush is not about raising funds to expand in a fast-growing market; it’s about sending billions of dollars back to ‌headquarters. Just one of six foreign-based companies that listed their Indian units in Mumbai since 2024 raised new funds, with ​all others structured purely as secondary offerings — or ‌offer for sale (OFS), where existing shareholders sell their holdings to the public without raising any new funds, according to data ‌from Prime Database, an Indian market research firm. Foreign-based parents of companies ‌that have long invested in India pocketed nearly $5bn through such secondary-offering ‌IPOs, with Hyundai Motor and LG Electronics accounting for more than 80% of those payouts, the data showed. Simply put, for each dollar raised in these IPOs taken together, more than $59 went out. And the trend is continuing: the planned $1bn IPO of Walmart’s Indian payments arm and Modern Times Group’s $335mn IPO of its local gaming unit will both take the OFS route. This week, Coca-Cola said the planned listing of its Indian bottler will have the American firm sell a portion of its stake. Banking sources said Carlsberg’s planned Indian IPO will also have no new funds raised — it will also be an OFS. The trend, which bankers and economists say is a result of sky-high stock valuations in India in recent years, shows that the prospect of a lucrative partial exit from Indian investments has become more attractive to many ​foreign companies than raising new funds to expand. Global companies are pursuing “India listings as this provides them liquidity as well as a positive impact on the market cap for their parent,” said Prashant Gupta, a partner at law firm Shardul Amarchand, which advised both Hyundai and LG on their OFS-structured IPOs. Modern Times declined to comment, ‌while Carlsberg said it is “exploring different options for increasing shareholder value which may ​potentially include an” Indian IPO. Walmart’s Indian unit, PhonePe, Hyundai, LG and other companies did not respond to Reuters requests ​for comment. The OFS trend comes at a troubling time for the Indian rupee, which has fallen 13% against the US dollar since 2024 and 6% so far this year. That has raised concerns that the IPO-linked repatriations are compounding already heavy foreign capital outflows. In January, MUFG Bank wrote that its analysis “shows one important contributor to Indian rupee weakness has been the strong IPO market in India.” So far this year, foreign portfolio investors have sold more than $23bn of their holdings, surpassing 2025’s record outflows of $18.9bn. IPO-linked capital outflows are “exerting a steady, though not abrupt, depreciation bias on the rupee,” said Tanay Dalal, a senior vice president of business and economics research at Axis Bank. Government officials and regulators have not indicated that they would try to curb the OFS trend, though India’s Chief Economic Advisor V Anantha Nageswaran warned in November that IPOs had “increasingly become exit vehicles for early investors rather than mechanisms for raising long-term capital.” “This undermines the spirit of ‌public markets,” he said. He did not respond to Reuters ‌queries. India was the world’s second-largest IPO market in 2025 after the US, with 367 listings raising $21.8bn, according to LSEG data. Its markets surged to record highs over the last two years before starting to struggle this year due to uncertainties related to the US-Israeli war on Iran. Still, a record $26bn worth of IPOs are awaiting approvals, according to regulatory data. The appeal for using the OFS route is rooted in valuations. Indian-listed units of foreign firms have consistently traded at multiples that dwarf their parents. Add to that a growing group of domestic investors that has resulted in high valuations in India over the past two years, making local listings attractive, lawyers and bankers said. At least six foreign companies that listed their Indian units in recent years trade at a significant premium to their overseas parents, according to LSEG data. Nestle India, which ​listed in 1969, has a price-to-earnings ratio — a measure of stock valuations relative to profit — of nearly 77 times, versus 22 times for Swiss parent Nestle . LG Electronics India, which listed last year, trades at nearly 59 times versus 44 times for its South Korean parent, LG Electronics.

Somewhere in the Persian Gulf, a billion-dollar warship is burning through its ammunition, shooting down drones that cost less than a second-hand car. That quiet arithmetic, a $4mn interceptor missile destroying a $20,000 drone, may be the most consequential military equation of our time, and Washington is only beginning to grapple with its implications. The scenario is not hypothetical. American destroyers operating in contested Gulf waters have been drawn into precisely this kind of exchange in recent months, compelled by doctrine and caution to fire expensive, finite interceptors at cheap, expendable swarms. Each engagement feels like a tactical success. Cumulatively, it is a strategic trap that Tehran has patiently engineered with mathematical precision. Seneca observed that “we suffer more in imagination than in reality.” In the Persian Gulf, the reverse may be true. The real danger is not the drone that the radar catches. It is the cumulative drain that no single engagement reveals. The math is brutally simple. A US Navy Arleigh Burke-class destroyer carries roughly 96 vertical-launch interceptors, its entire defensive magazine. It cannot reload at sea. Sustain enough drone pressure, and a $2bn warship eventually floats defenceless. Iran’s strategists understand this arithmetic intimately. They may not be able to sink an American destroyer in open battle. But they may not need to. The goal is not destruction. It is exhaustion. “You don’t need to beat the United States Navy. You just need to empty its guns.”Compounding the economics is what intelligence officials describe as a deepening electronic shadow over the Gulf. There are credible, if unconfirmed, indications that Russian military satellites are providing Iran with real-time targeting intelligence, while military-grade electronic warfare systems are flooding American combat radars with false signals, which one Pentagon assessment grimly labeled a “digital fog.” When a radar cannot cleanly distinguish a decoy from an incoming cruise missile, commanders default to shooting. Conservative rules of engagement, sensible in isolation, become catastrophically expensive across a sustained swarm campaign. Every misclassification accelerates the drain. Every phantom target costs a real interceptor. Carl Jung once observed that “thinking is difficult, which is precisely why most people judge instead.” The electronic warfare dimension exploits exactly that vulnerability. When sensors lie, commanders stop analysing and start reacting. Tehran is not merely flooding the skies with drones. It is flooding decision cycles with noise, deliberately engineering the conditions under which snap judgment replaces deliberate thought. The geography amplifies everything. The Strait of Hormuz, just 21 miles wide at its narrowest point, carries roughly 20% of the world’s oil supply through waters that Iran can observe from its own coastline. Any serious escalation in those waters would not remain military for long. Energy markets would register the shock within hours. Analysts warn that sustained conflict near the Strait could send fuel prices spiking dramatically, with cascading effects across every economy that runs on imported oil, which is to say, most of them, including American allies whose political stability Washington cannot afford to take for granted. American policymakers face an uncomfortable binary that Tehran has carefully constructed. Maintain presence and fight through the swarms: prestige is preserved, but magazines drain and the risk of escalation climbs with every exchange. Stand off and reposition: the immediate attrition stops, but the image of American ships withdrawing from Iranian pressure carries its own strategic cost, one that adversaries from Beijing to Moscow will measure carefully, and that partners from Riyadh to Tel Aviv will absorb quietly. There is, defence planners argue, a third path. But it requires intellectual honesty to admit that the current posture is broken, and the institutional courage to say so publicly.The answer is not to match Iran drone-for-drone, nor to escalate toward strikes on Iranian territory that would ignite a broader regional war. It is to change the economics of the engagement entirely, to make the swarm tactic expensive for Tehran rather than for the US Navy. That means investing urgently in close-in, high-volume counter-drone defences, optimised weapons systems, proximity-fused naval guns, and directed-energy platforms, so the Navy stops trading four-million-dollar missiles for twenty-thousand-dollar nuisances. It means hardening ship radars against electronic warfare through frequency agility and multi-sensor fusion, restoring the fire discipline that sensor degradation is deliberately eroding. It means restructuring magazine loadouts to blend expensive interceptors with lower-cost area-effect munitions, and integrating off-board shooters, submarines, manned aircraft, and unmanned platforms, so that no single destroyer bears the full burden of its own defense. The famous Rumi wrote that “the quieter you become, the more you can hear.” The lesson applies with uncomfortable precision to American naval posture. The loudest response — interceptor after interceptor lighting up the Gulf sky — is also the most legible, the most predictable, and the most exploitable. Silence, in strategic terms, means denying Iran the feedback loop it depends on: knowing exactly how many missiles remain in an American magazine. That deeper rethinking must extend to theatre architecture altogether — deploying crewless picket vessels and standoff surveillance assets to detect swarms earlier, dispersing their concentration before they reach a single hull, and forcing Iranian commanders to solve new tactical problems rather than optimise against a posture they have already mapped. None of this is fast or cheap. Bureaucracies resist admitting that a regional power with a satellite dish, a drone factory, and a mathematician has outmaneuvered a decades-old playbook. But the alternative, continuing to burn irreplaceable interceptors against a threat engineered specifically to exhaust them, is a strategy that runs out before Iran does. The United States has rarely lost a naval engagement by firepower. It would be a singular historical irony to lose one by arithmetic.  The writer is a prominent news anchor, programme presenter and media instructor.