AK Anthony is right: India hasn’t lost any territory and China hasn't gained any territory. There’s a serious threat to India’s claims—but finding a way to fix it is a lot, lot tougher than patriotic outraging.

Earlier today, union defence minister AK Antony responded to a media furore over the alleged loss of 640 square kilometres of territory on the Line of Actual Control with these emphatic, general-like words:“There is no question of India ceding to China any part of Indian territory. This government keeps a constant watch on India's security and takes all necessary measures to safeguard it."

OK, ok: general-like he wasn’t. Anthony mumbled his words, giving as much reassurance as an onion pakoda. I’ll be the first to confess that, like all Delhi boys, I’m instinctively suspicious of short, soft-spoken defence ministers who have a funny accent—gasp, horror of horrors—wear a veshti.

Having said that, Antony is telling the truth—and behind that truth, there’s another, which is that while the media’s generated a lot of heat on the Line of Actual Control it’s shed almost no light on what’s actually going on.

First, up, there’s this: Shyam Saran, the highly-regarded former diplomat whose report sparked off the latest furore, says the report doesn’t actually exist. In an interview to Firstpost, Saran emphatically asserted he’s never said or written China has occupied 640 square kilometres of Indian-claimed territory. Nor, he says, has he authored a report on the issue for the National Security Advisory Board, as reported.

“The claims that’s been appearing on television and in the newspapers”, Saran told Firstpost, “is absolutely without basis”.

In his interview to Firstpost, Saran said he had indeed visited Ladakh from 2 August to 9 August, studying the Line of Actual Control for an going NSAB project on border infrastructure involving former home secretary Gopal Pillai and former Intelligence Bureau director PC Halder. He says he’s also written up his conclusions, and met with the Prime Minister.

Like most things to do with border disputes, the actual story has more small print than an insurance policy—but it’s worth taking the time to understand it before getting carried away by the tide of patriotic froth surging coursing out of our television screens.

The actual situation is this: India hasn't actually lost anything, and China hasn't actually taken anything. However, India might end up losing something if it doesn't find a way to fix the problem—but no one, Left, Right or Centre, actually has a plan on the table to do that.

In essence, the problem dates back to 1999. While India’s energies were firmly focussed on Kargil, China built up several makeshift roads giving its troops rapid access to the Line of Actual Control, or LAC. The LAC delineates the positions Chinese troops reached in the war of 1962. The problem is both countries don’t agree exactly what those positions were. Following the war of 1971, Indian and Pakistani cartographers actually jointly surveyed the Line of Control to arrive at geographically-unambiguous lines. In the 1962 case, that was never done.

As a result, the only point on the LAC both countries actually agree on is it’s northern-most point, the Karakoram Pass. Parenthetically, China has built a Grade 17 road, made of earth but hard enough to drive armour and heavy artillery on. For military history enthusiasts, Firstpost has a collection of military maps which tell the story—and also make clear how the perceptions of the two sides differ.

Now, troops from both sides have long patrolled up to their claim lines—that is, points where they say the fighting ended in 1962. This means overlapping patrols cross each others’ paths. The drill on what to do when this happens is well established. Indian troops unfurl banners in English and Mandarin, proclaiming friendly intent and informing the Chinese that they are in the wrong country. The Chinese soldiers do exactly the same. Then, after a short time, the Indian troops turn around and head home.

Ever since the Chinese built their forward-access roads in 1999, though, things have become more complicated. For example, India’s claim in the Daulat Beg Oldi sector is that the Line of Control stretches up to three features, one code-named Trishul and the others, more prosaically, as Red Hill and Brown Hill.

When Indian troops head out to Red Hill or Brown Hill, though, Chinese troops rapidly drive up in their pick-up trucks—and obstruct the way. Put simply, India is no longer able to assert its claim lines, by demonstrating physical presence.

In time, this will become the status-quo—and with it, India’s claims will go up in smoke. To make things worse, as the recent Depsang stand-off demonstrated, China’s pushing up to its claim-lines, and beyond, ever-harder.

The underlying problem, thus, is obvious. Faster Chinese road access, in part the consequence of better terrain, gives their troops opportunity to block Indian patrols.

Having said that, knowing just what to do is less than easy. Indian troops could be asked to dig in when they’re interdicted from patrolling—but what purpose such long, pointless face-offs would serve is less than clear. Alternately, India could demonstrate more aggressive behaviour, bypassing Chinese border defences to establish their presence up to the claim-line. That’s certain, though, to invite a similar escalation in the Chinese response.

Ever since 2009, when Saran headed an expert investigation, India’s made big investments in beefing up it’s position—playing catch-up for the decade of doing nothing that followed 1999. It’s built new roads and airfields—most famously, one at Daulat Beg Oldi. China’s responded to India’s construction push with displays of aggression, albeit only very passive aggression.

Even if India builds more border roads and airbases, though, its claim problem won’t be solved. India’s roads—being built over rougher terrain than that China has to contend with—won’t help its troops reach out to their claim lines. More importantly, they won’t stop the Chinese from obstructing patrols.

So what should India do? Thinking about it seriously is a lot less fun than outraging.