It was a hot, dry afternoon on 12 June last year when Air India Flight 171 departed from Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel Airport in Ahmedabad for a nine‑and‑a‑half‑hour flight to London. On board were 230 passengers, including 169 Indian nationals and 53 Britons, along with 10 cabin crew. On the flight deck were Captain Sumeet Sabharwal, a veteran pilot, and first officer Clive Kunder. Just 32 seconds after take‑off, the aircraft crashed, killing all but one passenger on the plane. A further 19 people on the ground died in the disaster. CCTV footage from the airport and a social media clip show the aircraft lifting off in a routine manner, then failing to climb, seemingly hovering briefly before descending and vanishing behind buildings and trees. Moments later, a massive plume of flame and smoke confirms the scale of the loss. Yet, from the initial video alone, it is not clear what caused the crash.
Determining why so many people died is the task of India’s Aircraft Accident Investigation Bureau (AAIB), part of the Ministry of Civil Aviation. Under international law, Annex 13 of the Convention on International Civil Aviation assigns responsibility for the official investigation to the country where the accident occurred, though other parties, including the country that built the aircraft or its engines, can participate as “accredited representatives.” In AI171’s case, the U.S. National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) sent a delegation that included technical experts from Boeing, which built the 787 Dreamliner, and GE Aerospace, the engine maker, alongside the Federal Aviation Administration. Annex 13 states that the investigation’s objective is the prevention of accidents and incidents, not assigning blame or liability. Despite this framework, the stakes are high: Boeing seeks to protect the reputation of the 787 Dreamliner, Air India faces questions about brand and safety after a string of losses, and families of victims seek answers. The final conclusions of the investigation have not yet been published, and officials warned that more information could emerge in the days ahead.
The inquiry has sparked a heated backlash from safety advocates, pilots’ groups and the families’ lawyers. A central factor in the controversy is the AAIB’s preliminary 15‑page report issued roughly a month after the crash. It did not draw conclusions about the causes or offer recommendations, but two paragraphs provoked widespread debate. First, the report noted that the aircraft’s flight data recorder indicated the fuel‑cutoff switches moved from Run to Cutoff seconds after take‑off, which would have cut fuel to the engines and caused rapid loss of thrust. The report also states that in the cockpit voice recording, one pilot is heard asking why the other cut fuel, with the other pilot replying that he did not cut it. This framing, provided without a transcript or clear attribution, spurred intense speculation across media outlets about pilots’ actions.
Commentators have argued about what the preliminary findings imply. Some coverage suggested the captain might have deliberately cut fuel, though others, including former NTSB chair Tim Atkinson, cautioned that such speculation could be misdirected. The AAIB responded by condemning “selective and unverified reporting” in the press as irresponsible and urged restraint to protect the integrity of the investigative process. The Federation of Indian Pilots, representing roughly 6,000 pilots, characterized the preliminary report as “irrevocably compromised.” In parallel, Pushkar Raj Sabharwal, father of Captain Sabharwal, and his family sought judicial review in India’s Supreme Court, pressing for a formal judicial inquiry into the crash.
Beyond the immediate dispute over pilots’ actions, supporters and critics have clashed over the aircraft’s maintenance history and potential faults. Documents seen by the BBC show a 2022 incident described as a “burning” in one of the aircraft’s main power panels. Air India maintains that repairs followed Boeing‑approved procedures and that the plane was returned to service only after meeting airworthiness standards. The preliminary report notes the aircraft had been permitted to fly with a known fault in its “core network,” a central control framework connecting the plane’s computers and electronics.
The debate has elevated competing theories about a possible electrical failure. Proponents of the “electrical fault” theory argue that a major electrical malfunction could trigger a reboot of the aircraft’s flight computers shortly after take‑off, briefly convincing the systems that the aircraft was on the ground. In that scenario, a safety system might detect dangerous engine thrust levels and command a fuel cut-off, even if the crew did not physically switch the fuel valves. Critics of this line of reasoning point to inconsistencies in timelines and the apparent rapid deployment of the Ram Air Turbine (RAT), a device designed to provide emergency power. The preliminary report notes the RAT deployed within five seconds of fuel‑switch events, but simulator tests shared with reporters suggest a deployment time of 14–18 seconds, implying possible earlier activation.
Advocates for victims’ families argue that the RAT’s timing could indicate other failures, while safety experts caution against drawing definitive conclusions before the final report. Reuters reports that attorney Mike Andrews, who represents families of 135 victims, says the RAT findings raise questions about the pilots’ suicide narrative and suggests more investigation is needed. “The RAT deployment is a symptom of something else going on,” he says. “If it is out prior to the fuel switch allegation, our question still is: why?” Others emphasize the need to resist premature conclusions about homicide or pilot error.
The broader issue, observers say, is how investigations are conducted and whether they remain insulated from political or corporate pressures. International practice under Annex 13 emphasizes prevention and safety, but in AI171 the process has become a public battleground for competing interpretations, with stakeholders across continents weighing in. Analysts note that while interim reports can be issued on anniversaries of the accident if a final report is not yet ready, India’s AAIB has signaled it will continue to refine its findings as more data become available. The BBC’s reporting reflects not only the technical dimensions of the case but also the intense public interest and the potential implications for how major air disasters are understood in the future.
As the investigation evolves, families and advocates remain focused on establishing a credible, independent accounting of the crash. The questions about maintenance history, potential electrical faults, and the reliability of early conclusions underscore the difficulty of tracing responsibility in the wake of a tragedy of AI171’s scale. Officials have stressed that the ultimate objective is to improve aviation safety, even as they avoid prematurely assigning blame or endorsing controversial theories that have not yet withstood scrutiny.
The debate continues as the investigation proceeds, with new technical analyses and arguments from both sides shaping the public understanding of what happened this fateful day. In the meantime, the aviation industry watches closely for lessons that could influence safety practices, maintenance protocols, and the governance of international accident investigations.
