logo
Is establishing the truth a problem during a conflict?

Is establishing the truth a problem during a conflict?

The Hindu22-05-2025
Parallel to the recent escalation of military tensions between India and Pakistan, misinformation and disinformation surged online, making it increasingly difficult for the public to distinguish fact from fiction. Many media outlets published sensational stories riddled with unverified claims, and disseminated fake pictures and videos. Jingoism often drove the public response. Is establishing the truth a problem during a conflict? Nirupama Subramanian and Pratik Sinha discuss the question in a conversation moderated by Mandira Moddie. Edited excerpts:
Are there any rules for reporting during times of military conflict? How do we balance national security implications versus the public's right to know?
Nirupama Subramanian: Indian media houses have not framed rules for coverage of conflicts. This is particularly sad given that independent India has had so many military conflicts with Pakistan and China. We have also had internal conflicts — Maoist insurgencies, secessionist movements, and the militancy in Kashmir, which has elements of war because of the cross-border nature of the violence.
The only rules we have are the basic rules for journalism — your responsibility is to inform the public with accuracy, verify your information from the government and the adversary, and collect information from multiple sources. These are all ways to get as close to the truth as possible. In other words, this is what is meant by being objective. Many people understand objective to be the same as neutral. You can take sides and still be objective, right? And these are all pathways to that. Then, of course, the commitment to your viewers and readers that you don't spread misinformation — at least not knowingly. You have to know the difference between propaganda and real (information). During a conflict, there is an element of national security — you're not supposed to give out troop movement.
But during conflicts, especially in those that involve your own country versus another, these rules are the first casualty. In India, we have seen this loss of objectivity even when the government battles sections of its own citizens — in Kashmir or in the north-east or in the Maoist insurgency-hit States. Journalists become instruments through which the government wants to keep the national morale up. And they just drop their commitment of informing the public. Loyalty to the nation is demanded by the government. The danger is that this can also become loyalty to those in power.
Pratik, how did Operation Sindoor play out on social media?
Pratik Sinha: What I have seen over the last few years is that while there may be some amounts of misinformation happening unknowingly, most of it is fairly strategised across multiple layers. The communication strategy also depends on who needs to set the narrative. On day one (of Operation Sindoor), when the strikes happened, there were videos from Pakistan, even before we all woke up, of people being injured and of broken buildings. Compare this to 2019 when the Balakot strikes happened. Some (in India) claimed then that (a former Pakistani diplomat had stated that) 300 terrorists had been killed in the strikes (but his comments were misreported). Not one image of an injured or dead person was spread then. But this time, it was Pakistan which got into the race of narrative-building first, because it was Pakistan which felt the need to set a narrative.
On day two, things started to change. In India, when propaganda happens, it is not just on social media; many mainstream media channels said that we have attacked Karachi port or reached Islamabad. Then social media began amplifying that by saying we have gone far inside Karachi. By day three, there was just a crazy amount of misinformation on Indian social media and (sections of) the mainstream media.
When someone says Karachi port has been attacked, no one in Karachi is watching this because Indian channels are blocked there; it is Indian viewers who are reacting to this. Almost all war propaganda is directed at a country's own citizens.
We saw a lot of dramatic representations of war from the TV studios. What are the pressures for journalists these days?
Nirupama Subramanian: Actually, this should be the best time for journalists, for journalism. But unfortunately this is also the worst time for journalism. There was some really cringe stuff we got to see on TV. Channels have discovered that demonising Islam and Muslims garners good TRPs. So a military conflict with Pakistan is like a halwa for them.
I don't think TV channels are able to present the horrors of war as such. For instance, I would have liked to know what actually happens in a nuclear conflict. Nuclear weapons are discussed like firecrackers. People do not understand that these are weapons of mass destruction. I don't think I saw anything on TV that could explain to me what the nuclear threshold is, what escalation means, what deterrence means, or what may happen if there is a nuclear conflagration. There was no discussion on the cost of war either. They were presenting this conflict as some kind of entertainment in the skies and people seemed happy to watch this because they felt that it didn't affect them.
The other pressure is external. The government demands loyalty by using punitive measures such as filing cases, shutting down news organisations, blocking online news organisations, and threatening mainstream media with a loss of advertisement revenue. Journalists are getting the message that they should not try to find out what is happening on the other side. But what is happening with your adversary is important to understand. What are the people in Pakistan thinking? I am learning that there will be consequences if you keep contacts with people there.
The other thing is the power differential in a military conflict. With China, we saw during both the Doklam crisis and in Ladakh in 2020 that the the media was very restrained, very well behaved. With Pakistan, it's open season because of that power differential.
The normative role of media is to ask questions to power. But even asking questions is seen as a problem sometimes. Doesn't the public have the right to know?
Nirupama Subramanian: I think there is an expectation that in these kinds of situations, journalists must suspend their questioning of the government because all that matters is that you boost the war effort. Even citizens don't want journalists to question the government, and governments are only going to give out information that is favourable to them. Governments will justify this as something to do with troop morale. I can imagine that for a soldier hearing about losses when he is in the middle of a war can be really crushing. But why is the government not providing information about losses even now? We still don't know the full extent of what we lost when China made incursions into Indian territory in 2020. Because if this is made public, questions will be asked of the government, the government will be made accountable, and that may impact on the politics of the country. This is why they want to control the information.
During Operation Sindoor, X announced that it had received orders from the Union government to block some 8,000 accounts in India, including those of news organisations and prominent X users. How can the public hope to understand any issue when differing viewpoints are suppressed?
Pratik Sinha: The simple answer is that we cannot and the reason for blocking is that we should only get a selective view. This has been in the making for a very long time. It's just that during this conflict, we saw an extreme version of it. For example, Hindutva Watch, which does critical work in documenting hate crimes and hate speech, has been blocked in India for the longest time. Conflict time makes it convenient to suppress criticism. Under the garb of nationalism, anyone who is critical is being termed anti-national.
The Indian media is in a time of crisis. I'm talking about the entire ecosystem, which includes social media, YouTube, and all other platforms. The way our Foreign Secretary got trolled depicts what we have become as a society. And on top of that, there is no access to well-rounded information.
Nirupama Subramanian: To imagine that by blocking people on X you block out news completely is absurd. Yes, you may block out some actors, but the fact that India suffered some losses was in every respectable news report across the world. There was no way that the government could control all that. There is a limit to which it can control the narrative; it can't control it entirely.
Listen to the conversation in The Hindu Parley podcast
Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

Sultana Siddiqui: The Pakistani TV veteran making shows with cross-border appeal
Sultana Siddiqui: The Pakistani TV veteran making shows with cross-border appeal

Scroll.in

time13 minutes ago

  • Scroll.in

Sultana Siddiqui: The Pakistani TV veteran making shows with cross-border appeal

For years, political hostilities between India and Pakistan have disrupted entertainment exchange, but rarely have restrictions been as sweeping as those triggered by the Pahalgam fallout. The latest wave of bans targeted Pakistani shows on YouTube, blocked streaming access to cross-border dramas on Netflix and Amazon Prime, and even temporarily disabled Instagram accounts of Pakistani actors and peace activists. The clampdown came at a time when Pakistani dramas have been enjoying immense popularity across the border, on digital and social media. They have not just built massive fan bases there, but are also engaging with radical themes that, as Indian journalist Raksha Kumar points out, are missing from Indian television dramas, due to 'superfluous' research, lack of courage or financial constraints. One standout example is a three-part mini series that aired last August on the privately owned Hum TV, produced by veteran television pioneer Sultana Siddiqui. Each installment tells a stand-alone story. Each is bound by the shared theme of how far-right radicals terrorise individuals and the communities they inhabit at large and the limitations of the state to give justice or security to the victims. The final episode of Tan Man Neelo Neel (Body and Soul Covered in Bruises), the last in the trilogy, elicited emotion for audiences in both countries. The lead characters attacked by an angry mob were their parents' only children. They were young people whose dreams were cut short. The story ends with a chilling mosaic honouring real-life victims of 'blasphemy' mob violence like Mashal Khan, a university student in Mardan in 2017 and brothers Mughees and Muneeb Butt, in Sialkot in 2010. Mob violence Many others could have been included. The list is long and includes those who were victimised on the pretext of religion even if mob violence wasn't involved. The theme resonates wherever this phenomenon has occurred. Since she launched Hum TV in 2005, Sultana Siddiqui, now in her late 70s, has used the television channel as a platform for storytelling from a progressive bent of mind, offering a nuanced portrayal of Pakistani society through deeply grounded characters. This isn't the first time her storytelling has crossed borders. Zindagi Gulzar Hai (Life is Beautiful) in 2012 was a hit in India. The series shows a picture of Pakistan different from the narrative seen in the Indian context. Its popularity, fueled by social media, created a demand for Pakistani content in the Indian market. Its lead actor Fawad Khan, went on to become a Bollywood heartthrob, but was then banned in India along with other Pakistani artists following the 2016 Uri attack. The Pakistani film Maula Jatt that he stars in was due to be released in India, but that has been stalled too. The release of a Bollywood romance he stars in, Abir Gulaal, is now also in limbo due to renewed hostilities. Countering 'foreign' serials What catalysed Sultana Siddiqui to start Hum TV channel was a desire to create relevant content rooted in Pakistan. 'My son asked, 'Are you sure this will work? Indian channels are dominating ratings.' I told him, 'Give it two days – those ratings won't last',' she recalls. 'I was scared too. But when it happened, the entire atmosphere shifted. Not just in Pakistan, but anywhere Urdu is spoken.' She wanted to counter the dominance of 'foreign' serials, particularly Indian dramas known for their sensationalist aesthetics. 'Those vibrant colored walls, the dramatic music, and women cooking without a single stain on their clothes – it all used to bother me,' she says. The series are part of a long line of Hum TV productions that have challenged social norms, like Udaari (Soaring, on child sexual abuse) and Dar Si Jaati Hai Silah (Silah Gets a Bit Scared, on domestic violence). Speaking to Sapan News at her office in Karachi, Sultana Siddiqui recalled the backlash against Udaari (2016), which state-run regulators branded 'immoral ' and threatened to shut down. 'I asked them, 'What exactly do you gain by doing this?'' she recalled. Their reply? 'You get a lot of publicity'.' Public support But Siddiqui believes it wasn't just the regulators. 'When one of my dramas performs exceptionally well, there are always two kinds of competitors – those who respond positively, and those who don't. I choose to rise above. But some out of sheer spite think, 'It's doing well, so let's bring it down,' and they write complaints.' Udaari received a record number of notices from the Pakistan Electronic Media Regulatory Authority, an indication of how much pushback such socially conscious shows can get. The subject matter, she was told, was too 'bold' to ignore. Her response: 'Look at the end – the rapist was caught and punished. The purpose of Udaari was to show that if you see your child disturbed, talk to them. Because often, it's the nearest person who abuses the child, someone they trust.' What sustained her was support from the public. 'That's where we drew our strength from, to fight the case legally,' Sultana Siddiqui says. 'Sorry, but we are not followers; we create and make others follow.' She admits having to self-censor many aspects of her productions. 'Of course, you can play it safe, but if you're intelligent, you should know what your purpose is.' While Pakistani television channels today enjoy far more freedom than under military regimes, it was Pakistan's last military dictator, General Pervez Musharraf, who in fact allowed private channels to start. 'Back then we mostly adapted novels into dramas, where the mother was the epitome of goodness,' she says. 'They were slow-paced and good in their own right, but their reach and impact were limited. The subjects were limited too – you couldn't tackle issues like child abuse… You couldn't even show a couple holding hands. That's not the case now.' In contrast, films get caught in layers of bureaucracy with those in different regulatory departments 'sending mixed signals – one says yes, the other says no'. The horrific cases of mob violence in Pakistan affected Siddiqui on a personal level, she said, leading her to create the Tan Man series as a response. 'I don't have the energy anymore to keep running around, directing projects,' she admits. 'But I saw something that shattered me. I just hope some change comes from it – something that makes me feel like I've done my part. If nothing else, at least it brings some awareness.' 'When I see things like this, I know it's already time for me to bow out,' she says. 'But before I do, I want to leave behind something meaningful." Alongside Tan Man Neelo Neel, which runs for 11 episodes, the trilogy features Mann Jogi with nine episodes and Nadaan with eight. The latter tackles the controversial practice of ' Halala Nikah ' and exposes how religious doctrine is exploited for personal political gain. The second installment, Nadaan, directed by filmmaker Mehreen Jabbar (Ramchand Pakistani, 2008), examines the scourge of drug addiction. The story shows how drug addicts pose threats to people around them; they resist the opening of rehabilitation centres that might weaken their grip, hiding behind performative piety to deflect scrutiny, and ultimately incite mob violence to protect their influence and preserve the toxic ecosystems they benefit from. Cross-border drama Sultana Siddiqui has always strongly favoured the inclusion of cross-border talent in Pakistani and Indian cultural productions. She has participated in various bilateral conferences and meetings, including those organised by Aman Ki Asha (Hope for Peace), a joint platform initiated in 2010 by the two biggest media groups of India and Pakistan. At the 2018 inaugural Pakistan International Film Festival, which Sultana Siddiqui hosted in Karachi, she invited prominent Indian industry figures as guests, including the team behind the blockbuster film Baahubali. But when she informally asked one of them, a veteran writer, to create content for Pakistani audiences, he politely declined, citing 'grave risks'. Sultana Siddiqui advocates for a more equitable exchange of cultural assets between India and Pakistan. She doesn't mind Indian productions hiring Pakistani writers but 'it should be a two-way street. For every writer they take, we should get one in return – maybe even agree on a percentage.' There are other kinds of risks involved in collaboration that may derail such efforts. There have been cases of storylines from Pakistan being picked up by Indian productions but then, 'things were added according to their own wishes.' State policy has also played its part. In 2016, Pakistan banned Indian dramas on its television channels, after India's unofficial curbs on Pakistani artists. The blackout, she notes, did give a short-term boom to homegrown content, but the real game-changer has been the rise of digital streaming platforms. Not all of Hum TV's projects have been free from critique. The 2019 television series Ehd-e-Wafa, a collaboration with the military's media wing, the Inter-Services Public Relations, drew criticism for glorifying the army and depicting other professions and state institutions unfairly. Earlier ISPR-sponsored shows like Alpha Bravo Charlie (1998) and Sunehre Din (1991) focused on military life without overt political messaging. Asked whether private channels should be subject to such influence, Sultana Siddiqui stresses that collaboration should involve professionals who understand the craft. The conversation with Sultana Siddiqui took place in Urdu and the quotes provided are approximate English translations.

India's bulldozer demolitions are being fuelled by political silence
India's bulldozer demolitions are being fuelled by political silence

Scroll.in

time13 minutes ago

  • Scroll.in

India's bulldozer demolitions are being fuelled by political silence

In June, the Assam government demolished just over 600 Muslim homes in Goalpara district in what it described as a crackdown on ' illegal encroachments '. In Jahangirpuri in Delhi, homes and shops were razed despite a Supreme Court stay in April. The next month, the Ahmedabad municipality demolished 8,500 houses in Danilimda in a drive aimed at 'illegal Bangladeshis'. The same month, in Saharanpur in Uttar Pradesh, a mosque under construction was demolished without warning. Bulldozers have emerged as the state's favourite weapon in Narendra Modi's India, flattening Muslim neighbourhoods with clinical choreography. Each such demolition redraws the geography of citizenship and belonging. Like Israel's bulldozers in Gaza and the West Bank, India's bulldozers flatten buildings while erasing memory, rewriting history and reinforcing majoritarian rule. Italian philosopher Giorgio Agamben warns of the 'state of exception': legal limbo where democratic rights are suspended in the name of national interest. Agamben's 'state of exception' is evident when citizenship is overridden by suspicion, when due process is abandoned and when the law is fashioned into a tool of punishment. The state that is meant to protect rights becomes an agent of violation. 'We lost everything in a day,' Fatima Begum, a mother of four in Goalpara told The Observer Post. 'My children now suffer in the heat and rain. We only ask for dignity and safety.' Dignity is precisely what is being denied, deliberately. In Goalpara, the administration cited a 2021 land notification, claiming that the homes were located in a wetland. If that is true, why were only Muslim homes demolished? Were notices issued? What compensation was paid? Was there the basic recognition that these are landowners, labourers, teachers, children – citizens? 'This is not just an attack on property but on our identity,' schoolteacher Imran Hussain told The Observer Post. The bulldozer, as the mascot of a majoritarian state, arrives after riots, militant attacks or just before elections. It performs collective punishment, collapses the law into spectacle and leaves behind silence. It is demographic engineering bearing a saffron flag. The bulldozer is theology in motion. It enforces a belief that Muslims are intruders on Indian soil and their citizenship conditional. As damning as the state's actions is the near-silence or symbolic deflection of the so-called secular parties. In Assam, the Congress opposition leader wrote to Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma of the Bharatiya Janata Party to halt the evictions and the police reportedly stopped an eight-member delegation from reaching the site. But beyond this procedural tokenism, there has been no serious political reckoning, no sustained outrage. Not one senior national leader of the Congress, Rashtriya Janata Dal, Samajwadi Party or Trinamool Congress showed up. Apart from a few headlines, there was no press conference or protest. There is now a quiet consensus across much of the political spectrum that Muslim suffering no longer warrants attention. The logic is cynical and dangerous: Muslims will not vote for the BJP anyway, so why speak? Why risk Hindu votes by opposing bulldozers? A few lone voices, like Communist Party of India (Marxist) leader Subhashini Ali, have spoken out. But most parties are mute, cautious or calculating, treating Muslim pain as a liability rather than a constitutional crisis. This is the new arithmetic of Indian politics. Parties flaunt their Hinduness, visiting temples, reciting mantras, donning sacred threads, believing that if they just appear Hindu enough, political victory is certain. However, Hindutva is not just a vote bank but a project of erasure. The more political parties pander to this script, the more they become like the Aam Aadmi Party in Delhi – hollow, spineless, and complicit. The BJP may have started the bulldozer down this dangerous path, but it is the silence of the rest that propels it forward. Much like the Zionist strategies in Palestine, where demolitions serve to fragment, displace and erase Palestinian presence, India's Hindutva regime is scripting its own slow-motion Nakba. Even the Supreme Court, which has declared such demolitions 'totally unconstitutional', is routinely ignored. When bulldozers move faster than law, what remains of constitutionalism? More than a 'Muslim issue', this is a warning to every Indian. When citizenship becomes negotiable for one community, all are rendered vulnerable. We are witnessing the emergence of a parallel era where excavators dictate justice and headlines normalise apartheid. Where displaced women are forced to give birth in plastic tents. Where children study in the shadows of debris. Where heatstroke deaths are accepted collateral in the war against an unwanted identity. The bulldozer is an emblem of Hindu supremacy that leaves behind broken lives and the broken promise of equal citizenship. Listen to the sound of a republic disappearing: crumbling homes and the steady hum of machinery.

PM Modi, Maldivian President release commemorative stamps to mark 60th anniversary of diplomatic ties
PM Modi, Maldivian President release commemorative stamps to mark 60th anniversary of diplomatic ties

United News of India

time13 minutes ago

  • United News of India

PM Modi, Maldivian President release commemorative stamps to mark 60th anniversary of diplomatic ties

Male/New Delhi, July 25 (UNI) Prime Minister Narendra Modi and Maldivian President Mohamed Muizzu today released commemorative stamps on the occasion of the 60th anniversary of the establishment of India-Maldives diplomatic relations. Reflecting the age-old bilateral ties between the two countries, the commemorative stamps depict the Indian boat Uru, a large wooden dhow handcrafted in the historic boatyards of Beypore, Kerala, and the traditional Maldivian fishing boat - Vadhu Dhoni. These boats have been part of the Indian Ocean trade for centuries. The traditional Maldivian fishing boat - Vadhu Dhoni - is used for reef and coastal fishing. It depicts Maldives's rich maritime heritage and the close bond between island life and the ocean, a statement said. India was one of the first countries to establish diplomatic relations with Maldives following its independence in 1965. The commemorative stamps release symbolizes the close and historical ties between the two countries. PM Modi is on a two-day state visit to Maldives. He will be the Chief Guest at the 60th anniversary celebrations of Maldives' independence day tomorrow. UNI RN

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store