Image by foto qin from Pixabay
When Prime Minister Narendra Modi unveiled Vikram at Semicon India 2025, the applause in the hall was more than ceremonial. It was not just the cheer of a crowd honouring a leader, but the recognition of a moment many believed India might never see. Recognition of the crossing of a threshold– from aspiration to the beginnings of execution.
The chip itself is not exactly remarkable– a few centimetres across, etched with billions of transistors– far from the cutting edge of global design. It is unlikely to power the next iPhone or replace the dominance of Taiwan’s TSMC in global supply chains. Judged purely by technical specifications, Vikram is fairly modest.
Yet to view its significance only through gigahertz and nanometers is to miss the larger story. It lies in something subtler, yet far more consequential: the assertion that India, long dependent on imported semiconductors, has finally placed its own marker in the most strategic and contested industry of the 21st century.
In that sense, Vikram is not just a chip. This is India’s “silicon moment” – a symbolic leap in its bid for technological sovereignty. Whether it becomes a turning point or a historical footnote will depend less on Vikram itself and more on the ecosystem India chooses to build around it.
Semiconductors are not just another industry; they are the architecture of modern existence. Every smartphone call, every bank transfer, every satellite launch, every defence radar– all are entirely dependent on the tiny slivers of silicon etched with billions of circuits. They shape the flow of innovation, the security of nations, and the balance of global power.
The fragility of this system was laid bare during the pandemic. A disruption at a single Taiwanese fab rippled through Detroit’s car plants and Berlin’s medical equipment lines. When Japanese chipmaker Renesas suffered a fire in 2021, global automobile output slowed for months. That same year, a drought in Taiwan threatened water supplies critical for chipmaking, turning a local weather story into an international headline. The lesson was straightforward and sobering: when chips falter, economies stall.
And the world’s biggest economies did not treat that lesson as optional. Washington launched the CHIPS and Science Act, committing over $52 billion to lure companies like Intel and TSMC back to American soil. Beijing, already deep into its Made in China 2025 strategy, doubled its bets, pouring more than $100 billion into building a self-sufficient chip ecosystem. Brussels followed with its EU Chips Act, setting a target to secure 20% of global production by 2030. What emerged was not just industrial policy but the outlines of a global race to control the foundations of the 21st-century economy.
Meanwhile, East Asia’s giants tightened their grip. Taiwan’s TSMC continued to dominate advanced chipmaking, while South Korea’s Samsung poured resources into both memory and logic chips. Yet this dominance carries its own vulnerability: Taiwan’s geopolitical tensions with China mean that every cross-Strait flare-up reverberates through boardrooms and parliaments worldwide.
Against this backdrop, India’s unveiling of Vikram is not merely a matter of national pride and cheer. It is a declaration that the country does not intend to remain a permanent spectator in the contest for technological power. India is not seeking to dethrone TSMC tomorrow. Its goal is more fundamental: to ensure that its future is not dictated entirely by others, and that it has a seat – however modest at first – at the table where the silicon economy is being reshaped.
Despite building a world-class software industry, India entered the 21st century almost entirely dependent on imported semiconductors – a paradox of coding strength without silicon muscle.
Missed Chances
Across decades, opportunities came and went. In the 1980s, protectionist policies discouraged private investment in electronics. The 1990s liberalisation raised hopes, but the state lacked the billions in subsidies that semiconductor fabs demand. By the 2000s, discussions with global manufacturers surfaced, yet stalled amid bureaucratic delays and weak infrastructure. Each decade widened the distance between India’s policy ambitions and its manufacturing reality.
By 2020, India was importing nearly all of its chips, spending over $21 billion annually to feed domestic demand. When the pandemic jolted supply lines, the vulnerability became obvious: carmakers slowed output, smartphone launches slipped by months, and even satellite programs faced delays. The exposure was not just commercial. Defence electronics – radars, avionics, missile guidance systems – depended on foreign chips, raising uncomfortable questions about strategic autonomy.
When the government placed semiconductors at the centre of its Atmanirbhar Bharat agenda, sceptics dismissed it as another slogan. But Vikram is proof that the mission is no longer confined to speeches and white papers.
Unveiled at Semicon India 2025 in Bengaluru, Vikram – named for Dr. Vikram Sarabhai, the father of India’s space programme – was presented as the country’s "first domestically fabricated chip". Technically modest compared to the 3nm leaders of TSMC or Samsung, its importance lies elsewhere: the establishment of clean rooms, lithography, etching, packaging, and testing facilities that India had long lacked.
For decades, India had talked about semiconductors in policy documents and PowerPoints. With Vikram, it had finally produced one in silicon. And that matters, because once a nation builds capacity, it has a foundation to scale up.
If Vikram is a seed, the question is whether India will now cultivate the soil around it.
Rather than treating Vikram as an end in itself, think of it as a means. Through it, India can realise four advancements: in security, in jobs, in global trade, and in innovation.
India’s semiconductor debut is indeed significant, but sustaining it requires acknowledging and addressing the structural hurdles that every new entrant faces.
And yet again, these are not reasons for pessimism. They are practical realities. If India pairs Vikram with patient capital, tacit talent, sequenced node ambition, utility reliability, certified quality, and true clusters, symbolism becomes system–and the system endures.
Yes, the hurdles are steep, but that is precisely why Vikram matters. It shifts the debate from whether India can build semiconductors to how far it can go. A proof of concept, however modest, is often the hardest barrier to cross.
History offers perspective. ISRO began with borrowed rockets launched from a fishing village in Thumba. Those early steps looked trivial against NASA or the Soviets. Yet they built capability, credibility, and eventually ambition– culminating in missions to Mars and the Moon.
Or consider South Korea. In the 1980s, it entered the chip industry by producing low-end memory products. Global players dismissed them as followers. Four decades later, Samsung is not just competitive– it is one of the two companies on earth capable of producing cutting-edge nodes alongside TSMC. The lesson is loud and clear: latecomers can rise if they commit consistently.
Symbolism in technology is not empty. It shapes behaviour. For policymakers, it justifies sustained investment. For investors, it signals seriousness. For students and engineers in Kanpur or Coimbatore, it widens the horizon of careers they consider possible. A single chip cannot transform an economy–but it can ignite the ecosystem that does.
That is why Vikram matters: not for what it is today, but for the momentum it can generate tomorrow.
The importance of this milestone is already visible on the ground.
In Pune, an automotive supplier that once watched production lines sit idle during the pandemic chip shortage now talks about sourcing locally, even at an initial premium. The calculation is simple: a slightly higher upfront cost is preferable to the risk of losing months of output. Industry associations in Maharashtra are even exploring long-term contracts with domestic fabs–something unimaginable a few years ago.
In Hyderabad, engineering colleges are reshaping their curricula. Departments that once focused narrowly on IT now see value in semiconductor manufacturing modules. AICTE has floated the idea of a dedicated semiconductor engineering stream, and faculty members report a spike in students asking how to enter the field. What was once a niche curiosity is becoming a mainstream ambition.
In Tamil Nadu, where Foxconn already assembles iPhones, state leaders are pushing aggressively for semiconductor fabs to complete the cluster. They speak openly of replicating Taiwan’s Hsinchu Science Park– not as an abstract dream, but as a competitive necessity. Rival states are crafting incentive packages of their own, sparking a healthy contest for investment.
Each of these shifts is modest in isolation. But together they show how a single chip can ripple outward – from factory floors to classrooms to state capitals – turning possibility into planning, and planning into policy.
My take is clear: Vikram is more symbol than substance right now – but symbols matter. In capital-intensive, trust-driven industries, credibility and momentum unlock policy attention, investor interest, and career choices. A single, visible success can move budgets, boardrooms, and classrooms; that is the upside of Vikram.
But the upside requires discipline. If India treats this moment as a destination rather than the first step, the energy will dissipate. Political pageantry and one-off announcements must give way to sustained execution: building fabs that run at commercial scale, creating reliable domestic supplier chains, and training engineers with real fab experience.
Three practical priorities stand out:
The real test lies ahead:
If the answers are yes, Vikram will be read in history as the start of India’s semiconductor ascent. If not, it will remain a headline from 2025 – memorable, but not transformative.
Celebrate Vikram. Then get to work.