India is retiring its MiG-21s after decades of service. A retired Indian fighter pilot gives his take.

For more than six decades, the MiG-21 has been the workhorse of the skies. Built in astonishing numbers and flown by more than 60 air forces, it became the world’s most widely produced, most affordable, and longest-serving supersonic fighter. It also earned a darker sobriquet—“flying coffin”—a label that has shadowed the aircraft through training accidents and aging fleets.

Few people sit at the intersection of those two truths like Air Commodore Surendra Singh Tyagi (Ret.), the most experienced MiG-21 pilot on record. Over 4,005 hours and 6,316 sorties, Tyagi treated the jet as both instrument and companion, a relationship recognized formally in 2013 when the Global Head of Operations for MiG-21 Russia presented him a special trophy for his unmatched operational record. As the Indian Air Force prepares to bid farewell to the MiG-21 by the end of this year, Tyagi reflects on the jet’s virtues and limits—and on what its long twilight says about the future of combat aviation.

Neeraj Mahajan: The MiG-21 is both the most widely produced and one of the longest-serving supersonic fighters in history—yet it’s often dismissed as a “flying coffin” or “widow maker.” Is that reputation fair?

Surendra Singh Tyagi: The MiG-21 is a beautiful aircraft. It’s a good machine. It stays in control—but you must handle it carefully. I’ve spent more than 4,000 hours and over 6,300 sorties on the MiG-21, and I can tell you this: it is not a flying coffin or a widow maker. The MiG-21 is a pilot’s aircraft—it demands precision, discipline, and respect. If you master it, it won’t let you down. Many accidents occurred because it was used extensively to train young pilots learning to handle supersonic fighters. Operationally, it was fast, agile, and reliable in combat. It gave the Indian Air Force an edge for decades. I’d call it one of the finest machines of its era. The MiG-21 was never a coffin—it was a thoroughbred fighter.

Mahajan: How did the MiG-21’s role evolve across the 1962, 1965, and 1971 wars—and later during Kargil in 1999?

Tyagi: The MiG-21 was designed to protect Indian airspace as an interceptor. When it entered service in the 1960s, its job was to climb quickly, intercept, and neutralize enemy aircraft—especially bombers. We called it a dash interceptor because it could launch, climb, accelerate, and engage at supersonic speed. That speed and reaction time were its strengths.

It didn’t participate in 1962; it had just been inducted and wasn’t fully operational. By 1965, only a few squadrons were available, so its role was limited to air defense and quick interception rather than full combat. There wasn’t much more to do until it was modified and equipped with gun pods. Over time, the MiG-21 evolved from a pure interceptor into a versatile ground-attack and multi-role aircraft, though interception remained its core. We began carrying bombs and rockets on the wings. By 1971, we had rockets, guns, bombs, and a fair amount of air-to-ground experience. The turning point came in the 1971 war, where the MiG-21 proved its speed, agility, and maneuverability in dogfights.

Later upgrades, including the MiG-21 Bison, introduced improved avionics, radar, and weapons, enabling multi-role missions—ground attack, reconnaissance, and even precision strikes. During Kargil in 1999, the Bison flew challenging bombing runs over high-altitude terrain.

Mahajan: In maneuverability, reliability, and combat effectiveness, where does the MiG-21 excel—and where does it fall short?

Tyagi: The MiG-21 has an excellent rate of climb—better than most aircraft except, of course, the MiG-29, a pure interceptor and one of the best. The MiG-21 can be handled at very low speeds, which most other aircraft cannot. It has a strong rate of turn and good acceleration. Its engine is rugged and powerful, and tolerates punishment across terrains—from deserts to high altitudes. It’s extremely agile and could out-turn many contemporaries. Its small size and high thrust-to-weight ratio made it challenging to spot, yet very effective in dogfights. It’s a complete package—unless you buy something far more advanced. Also, remember: an upgraded MiG-21 Bison costs about $5.1 million, while other fighters can cost upwards of $9 million. You could buy a squadron for the cost of one top-tier jet.

But yes, there are weaknesses. Earlier Russian designs didn’t emphasize safety features to the same extent as Western aircraft. Even the Hunter had a better ejection seat than the early MiG-21. The MiG-21 has limited fuel and endurance, so range and loiter time are short. Its avionics are basic compared to Western fighters, and the radar has limitations. Takeoffs and landings at low speed are demanding, especially for young pilots. Despite that, it remained the IAF’s backbone for decades—because it performed reliably in the role for which it was built.

Mahajan: How does the MiG-21 compare to other fighters globally?

Tyagi: More than 11,000 were built, flown by nearly 60 countries. When it entered service in the early 1960s, it was revolutionary—supersonic, lightweight, affordable, highly maneuverable. It held its own against Western fighters like the F-104 Starfighter and Mirage III. In fact, the F-16 was designed with the MiG-21 in mind. Upgraded versions, such as the MiG-21 Bison, stayed relevant with modern avionics and missiles. By today’s standards, you can’t compare it to fourth- and fifth-generation fighters with advanced radars, electronic warfare, and stealth. But in longevity, global footprint, and impact on air combat, nothing matches it. It was never meant to be the most sophisticated jet; it was dependable, lethal in the hands of skilled pilots, and gave air forces—including India’s—an affordable supersonic punch for more than half a century.

Mahajan: Tejas is seen as the MiG-21’s replacement. From a pilot’s perspective, can it match—or surpass—MiG-21’s operational record?

Tyagi: Tejas is a different generation altogether. The MiG-21 was a rugged, bare-bones interceptor; Tejas is a modern multirole fighter with advanced avionics, fly-by-wire controls, better safety margins, and far greater versatility. Technologically, Tejas will surpass the MiG-21. Matching its operational record—six decades of frontline service and thousands of sorties—will take time. The MiG-21 has been the IAF’s backbone for half a century. Tejas can build a similar legacy if it’s inducted in sufficient numbers and upgraded continuously.

Mahajan: The MiG-21 is slated to retire from IAF service by the end of this year. What does that milestone mean to you?

Tyagi: It’s like someone pulling my heart out. You get attached to any aircraft you fly. For me, the MiG-21’s retirement is emotional. I spent the best years of my life in its cockpit, and every sortie was a lesson in discipline, courage, and trust in the machine. Saying goodbye feels like parting with a comrade who stood by me through thick and thin. At the same time, this is the right step—every aircraft has a life cycle, and the IAF must move ahead with modern platforms like Tejas and Rafale. The MiG-21 leaves a proud legacy. I feel fortunate to be part of that history. It was never just an aircraft—it was my constant companion in the skies.

Mahajan: You’ve expressed a wish to fly the MiG-21 once more before it retires. Any chance that happens?

Tyagi: I did meet the Air Chief, who kindly granted me an audience. I conveyed my wish, and he said he would speak to the Defence Minister. If the government permits, I hope to get one last chance to sit in my beloved aircraft and feel it again.