For two days in mid-February this year, the J.L. Auditorium of the All India Institute of Medical Sciences in New Delhi became an unlikely theatre of geopolitics. RUSH — the Rencontres Universitaires et Scientifiques de Haut niveau, or High-Level Academic and Scientific Meetings on the Future of Indo-French Cooperation, held on February 18 and 19, 2026 — brought the leadership of AIIMS, IIT Delhi and IISc Bangalore into the same rooms as the presidents of Sorbonne University, PSL and the Institut Polytechnique de Paris, in the presence of President Emmanuel Macron himself. The timing was deliberate. Across town at Bharat Mandapam, India was hosting the AI Impact Summit 2026, the first global artificial intelligence summit convened in the Global South.
The week produced far more than communiqués. On February 17, Prime Minister Narendra Modi and President Macron elevated the bilateral relationship to a “Special Global Strategic Partnership” and jointly launched the India-France Year of Innovation in Mumbai. The next day, Macron and Union Health Minister J.P. Nadda inaugurated the Indo-French Centre for AI in Health at AIIMS New Delhi, a dedicated facility for AI-driven medical research created through an agreement between AIIMS, Sorbonne University and the Paris Brain Institute, with technical support from IIT Delhi. The RUSH programme, attended by the authors, itself was dense with health content: the Franco-Indian Campus on Life Sciences for Health, whose four consortia — Biosantexc, Iliade, InHealth and Shield — link more than twenty institutions and sixty laboratories across both countries; a session devoted to AI, global and planetary health; and an Indo-French Forum on AI in Brain Health and Global Healthcare that closed with a white paper on AI in health.
The statements from the principals set the register. At the AI Impact Summit, Modi urged accelerated adoption of artificial intelligence for early disease detection, personalised medicine and remote care in rural areas under his vision of “AI for All”, describing AI as the power “to detect disease before it destroys, to treat before it worsens, and to reach care where no doctor has reached before”. Macron lauded India's digital transformation and the India Stack as a model of technology governance for the world. Nadda has carried the same message onto the global stage: India has operationalised more than 1.85 lakh Ayushman Arogya Mandirs delivered comprehensive primary care, extended the world's largest publicly funded health assurance scheme, PM-JAY, to nearly 600 million beneficiaries, and created over 880 million digital health identities under the Ayushman Bharat Digital Mission.
Why The World Is Watching
This diplomacy unfolds against a sobering global canvas. Half a decade after COVID-19, the world's pandemic preparedness architecture remains unfinished business. Antimicrobial resistance, to which India is acutely exposed, is projected to become one of this century's leading killers. Non-communicable diseases now account for the majority of deaths in low- and middle-income countries, even as climate change redraws the maps of malaria, dengue and heat stress. And a new inequity is hardening: the divide between health systems that can harness AI and data and those that cannot. India sits at the centre of each of these conversations – as the pharmacy of the Global South, as the vaccine manufacturer that helped end the pandemic for much of the world, and now as a convener of AI governance for developing countries. Add to this the quieter crises — a global shortage of health workers that pulls doctors and nurses from the very countries that trained them, and a mental health burden that every society has under-measured and under-funded — and the case for pooling scientific capability across borders becomes overwhelming. That is why a Franco-Indian health compact matters well beyond the two capitals.
The Problem At Home
As India deepens its international partnerships in health, strengthening healthcare delivery across diverse regions of the country remains an equally important priority. The government's Health Dynamics of India report for 2022-23 records a nearly 80 percent shortfall of specialist doctors at rural community health centres: about 4,400 specialists in position against a requirement of almost 22,000. The deficit runs to 83 per cent for surgeons, 82 per cent for physicians, 80 per cent for paediatricians and 74 per cent for obstetrician-gynaecologists. Much has been built in brick and mortar; the harder currency – trained people willing to serve where they are needed most – remains scarce.
A Journey Through Eleven States
Nowhere is this truer than in the tribal heartland. Madhya Pradesh, Chhattisgarh, Jharkhand and Odisha together hold a large share of India's Scheduled Tribe population and a disproportionate share of its unfinished health agenda. Sickle cell disease is emblematic: between 10 and 30 per cent of tribal groups in this belt carry the trait, Madhya Pradesh alone is estimated to have nearly a million carriers, and studies suggest fewer than one in five affected individuals receives consistent treatment. Distances to functional facilities are long, staff vacancies are chronic, and malaria and malnutrition persist in the forested districts of southern Chhattisgarh and Odisha's uplands. The National Sickle Cell Anaemia Elimination Mission, launched in 2023 with a 2047 horizon, is exactly the right idea, and its screening drive has been impressive — but screening without assured follow-up care risks becoming a census of the untreated. The PM-JANMAN mission for particularly vulnerable tribal groups, with its mobile medical units and habitation-level outreach, points in the right direction; the challenge is to knit these outreach efforts into a referral chain that actually ends at a staffed hospital bed.
The Northeast presents a distinct set of health workforce challenges. Nagaland reported 57 primary health centres functioning without a single medical officer as of 2024, with dozens of serving doctors approaching retirement and few replacements in sight. The constraint here is not demand but the supply and retention of professionals willing to work in remote hill districts. Jammu and Kashmir faces similar terrain-driven challenges, yet it also illustrates what is possible: it was among the earliest regions wired into ISRO's telemedicine network, and its district hospitals are increasingly linked to tertiary centres through eSanjeevani, softening the winters that once cut whole valleys off from care. With near-universal health cover extended to its residents, the Union Territory shows how central schemes, digital bridges and local commitment can compensate — at least partially — for geography.
The southern states show the promise from the other direction. Kerala has already achieved the 2030 Sustainable Development Goal targets for neonatal, infant, under-five and maternal mortality, and its conversion of primary health centres into Family Health Centres has measurably improved utilisation while cutting out-of-pocket costs. Tamil Nadu's drug procurement corporation and emergency ambulance network remain templates for the entire country. But both states now face the second mountain: ageing populations and a surging burden of diabetes, hypertension and obesity — more than 44 per cent of Tamil Nadu's women aged 15 to 49 are overweight or obese, far above the national average. Their lesson for the rest of India is that strong primary care must be built now, before the non-communicable disease wave crests elsewhere.
Gujarat, Goa and Delhi complete the mosaic. Gujarat, an industrial powerhouse, is a standing reminder that prosperity does not automatically translate into rural health staffing: it figures among the states with the worst specialist shortfalls at rural community health centres. Goa, compact and urbanised, posts some of the country's best indicators and shows what small geography combined with sustained public spending can deliver. Delhi is a different laboratory altogether: its mohalla clinics took basic care to the doorstep of migrants and the working poor, and the capital is now converging with the national framework, building hundreds of Ayushman Arogya Mandirs with central support. If the transition preserves the doorstep ethos while adding the national scheme's depth, it could offer the best of both worlds. Delhi also carries a burden no other city does: as home to AIIMS and the great central institutes, it absorbs referral patients from every state discussed here — the surest evidence that the periphery still cannot treat what it detects.
What India Has Got Right
An honest audit must acknowledge how much has moved. Ayushman Bharat is arguably the world's most ambitious universal health coverage architecture, resting on four mutually reinforcing pillars: comprehensive primary care through Ayushman Arogya Mandirs; hospital insurance through PM-JAY; a digital spine through the Ayushman Bharat Digital Mission; and physical infrastructure through the PM-Ayushman Bharat Health Infrastructure Mission, which is building critical-care blocks and public health laboratories down to the district level. The eSanjeevani platform has crossed roughly 372 million teleconsultations, connecting over 1.5 lakh village-level facilities to city hospitals in a hub-and-spoke model – quietly one of the largest telemedicine experiments in human history. The number of medical colleges has nearly doubled since 2014, with commensurate expansion in MBBS and postgraduate seats. AI-enabled screening tools for tuberculosis and diabetic complications are already deployed in public programmes, and Fifteenth Finance Commission grants have pushed health money directly to panchayats and municipalities for the first time at scale. This is not incremental tinkering; it is the scaffolding of a modern health system, and it deserves recognition.
Where The Focus Must Now Shift
The unfinished agenda is equally clear. First, put people at the centre of infrastructure. Specialist vacancies will not be filled by exhortation; they require credible rural service incentives, district residency programmes, transparent transfer policies, and bold task-shifting to nurse practitioners and community health officers, particularly in tribal districts. Second, take the February agreements to the periphery. The Indo-French Centre for AI in Health and the Franco-Indian Campus should adopt tribal and hill districts as living laboratories, validating AI-assisted screening for sickle cell disease, tuberculosis and diabetic retinopathy in Bastar and Kandhamal, not only at AIIMS. Third, treat state diversity as a design principle: Kerala needs geriatric and NCD care; Nagaland needs doctors; Madhya Pradesh needs treatment networks behind its screening drives — National Health Mission financing should flex accordingly. Fourth, invest in genomic and antimicrobial resistance surveillance under a One Health approach, an area where French institutional strengths complement Indian scale. Fifth, use the brain health forum inaugurated at RUSH to build something India will need desperately within a generation: community-level capacity for dementia, stroke rehabilitation and mental health, with Franco-Indian fellowships training the specialists our districts lack. And finally, measure what matters: district-level outcome dashboards, published openly under the digital mission, would let citizens see the system improving — and hold it to account when it does not.
The RUSH meetings ended with commitments to shared Indo-French platforms for training, research and innovation in AI and health. It would be easy to dismiss such summitry as elite theatre. It would also be wrong. India's health story has advanced whenever ambition at the top met capability at the base – smallpox eradication, polio elimination, and the HIV reversal. The Indo-French moment of February 2026 supplies technology, training pipelines and global legitimacy. The task now is to make sure its benefits travel the full distance, from the J.L. Auditorium to the last subcentre in the hills — so that, in the Prime Minister's words, care truly reaches where no doctor has reached before.
The above article has been written by Sundeep Nayak, Professor of Practice and Chair Mission LiFE Cell at IIT Goa, and Dr. Kyawt Yin Min Thein, a Sustainability Expert and Research Assistant at the School of Planning and Architecture, New Delhi. Their views are personal.
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