The great Indian acquisition spree has begun. As the domestic economy shows signs of deceleration, a wave of Indian billionaires is sweeping through global markets, snapping up foreign companies at a pace not seen since the dot-com era. But British M&A firms, those seasoned observers of cross-border capital flows, are warning of a darker subtext: this outward rush may mask systemic risks back home.
Consider the numbers. In the first half of this year alone, Indian conglomerates have announced over $40 billion in overseas acquisitions, a 35% jump from the same period last year. The targets are diverse: European luxury brands, Southeast Asian fintech startups, African mining operations. The buyers are the usual suspects: the Ambanis, the Adanis, the Tatas. For them, a foreign purchase is not just a trophy but a hedge against what they see as a plateauing Indian market.
This is where British M&A advisory firms, those canny operators in the City of London, enter the frame. They have watched India's outbound M&A wave with a mix of fascination and unease. Their analysis: while these deals appear financially sound on paper, they often rely on leverage that could become toxic if global credit conditions tighten. Worse, they say, the domestic slowdown that inspires these purchases is not a temporary blip but a structural shift. India's GDP growth has fallen below 6% for two consecutive quarters. Consumer confidence is brittle. The regulatory environment is, to put it mildly, unpredictable.
From a tech perspective, this is a quintessential 'leapfrog' moment. Indian billionaires are buying foreign assets not just for revenue but for intellectual property, for brands, for access to ecosystems that India's own innovation system has struggled to produce. They are buying algorithms, patent portfolios, and even whole R&D teams. This is digital sovereignty purchased at a premium.
But here is the Black Mirror edge: these acquisitions could hollow out India's own tech sector. When a Mumbai-based conglomerate acquires a British AI firm, it often moves the core team to London or Singapore. The knowledge does not flow back to Bangalore. It stays in the global cloud, far from Indian soil. The country gains a balance-sheet asset but loses the human capital it desperately needs to build its own future.
British M&A firms are not Luddites. They understand capital flows. They see the strategic logic. But they also remember the 2008 crisis, when similar leverage-driven expansions by Indian firms led to painful write-downs. Their warning: a domestic slowdown combined with global interest rate rises could create a perfect storm for companies that have overextended on debt.
This is not alarmism. It is pattern recognition. The UK's own experience with the 'big bangs' of financial deregulation taught them that capital mobility without domestic resilience is a recipe for volatility. India's billionaires are making rational individual choices. But the collective outcome could be a nation selling off its future equity.
What does this mean for the average Indian? It means tech jobs migrated abroad. It means tax revenues flowing outward. It means that the next Uber or Spotify will not be Indian, it will be owned by Indian capital but operate from some neutral tax haven. The user experience of society becomes that of a landlord nation: wealthy at the top, reliant on remittances and inertia at the bottom.
This is not to say that all foreign acquisitions are bad. The Tata Group's purchase of Jaguar Land Rover was a masterstroke. But that was then. Now, the focus is on digital assets, financial services, and infrastructure. These are the sinews of a modern economy. If they are owned by Indian companies but operated abroad, who benefits?
The Indian government has a role here. It could create incentives for repatriation of profits and IP. It could invest in domestic R&D to make staying at home more attractive. Instead, it has raised capital gains taxes and created regulatory uncertainty. The billionaires are voting with their wallets.
The British M&A firms are not moralising. They are advising on the very deals they warn about. But their collective counsel is clear: India must fix its domestic engine before its richest citizens buy up the world. Otherwise, the narrative shifts from an emerging market triumph to a grand capital flight, disguised as empire building.
As a technologist, I see the parallels with big tech's land grab a decade ago. Then, it was about acquiring startup talent. Now, it is about acquiring entire industries. The ethics of this are complex. The digital sovereignty of a billion people is at stake. And the algorithm of global capital does not care about sentiment. It cares about yield. If India wants to keep its brightest minds and its best assets, it has to offer a better algorithm of its own. Otherwise, the billionaires will continue to look abroad, not out of ambition, but out of necessity. And that is a risk no M&A firm can quantify.
