War as porn

Calm on the ground; war porn in studios

The one bright spot of the last 24 hours or so is the 37 minute-long press briefing by the armed forces. (Video here, transcript here).

The odd quotable quote aside, it was factual and calm, with the service chiefs backing up their talking points with visual evidence wherever possible. And, bonus, the three service chiefs noticeably eschewed the obligatory “Under the leadership of…” references.

Sections of the commentariat were quick to point out that the service chiefs avoided specifics on material loss, particularly as relates to the question of whether or not one or more of India’s Rafales were downed in combat. Fair enough — in that same briefing, the service chiefs refrained from quantifying how many Pakistan fighters were downed, too. It was a dignified, thoughtful refusal to treat war as a tennis match, with 6-1 scorelines and attendant triumphalism.

On a related note, I don’t get newspapers at home — haven’t, since before Covid, because I read my news online. I made an exception this morning, thouh. After coffee, I walked to the nearest newsstand — which, as it turns out, is about one and a half km from my apartment (whatever happened to the friendly neighbourhood newsstand, and what have we lost when we lost it?) and picked up every mainstream paper I could find.

Though I’ve spent most of my professional life in digital media, the newspaper remains my first love, and today was a reminder of why. The coverage of the media briefing was thoughtful and factual, with information laid out neatly, with boxes and cutaways drawing attention to key points, and a crisp lead-all summarizing important developments. That is coverage as it should be.

Elsewhere, in the aftermath of the ceasefire, all was calm in the border areas; in our television studios and on social media, though, not so much. There was a report of drones being spotted in J&K and of the Indian armed forces responding; there was a report of ceasefire violations by Pakistan in the J&K sector; there were reports of raids, of sirens going off, and of blackouts being enforced in Barmer and elsewhere.

None of it was true.

What makes such reporting egregious is that it was not the work of some trigger-happy junior staffer. The “news” I mentioned was put out by the likes of Aditya Raj Kaul, executive editor of the TV9 network, and Sidhant Sibal, assistant editor at WION. Therein lies the problem. Newsroom leaders are supposed to set standards in coverage. When they are the first to jump the gun, the quality of the newsrooms they lead deteriorates in proportion. And at times like this, when we live in the shadow of armed conflict, this is doubly dangerous, for obvious reasons.

Alongside such alarmist — and erroneous — news, electronic media houses were quick to pick up, and amplify, government spin. See below for just one example of many:

Aside from the fact that this word salad is devoid of any meaning, what does it say when senior journalists (R Shivshankar, Amish Devgan), pick up the BJP IT Cell’s talking points and amplify them verbatim? (NB: Correcting my earlier line, which said RS was being paid Rs 15 crore to head up DD News).

Aside: Speaking of mindless amplification of prescribed talking points, check this out, from India’s “premier” news agency (In retrospect, maybe it is ‘news’, not ‘premier’, that should be in quotes:

Same quote, almost the same words, ascribed to Amit Shah one day, to Modi the next. In passing, note that neither the PM nor the Home Minister has been able to front up and address the nation in a time of conflict.

Segueing from that segue, the electronic media’s hyperventilation contrasted unfavorably with the fact-based sobriety of print — and that underlines my point. What could have been a moment for sober reflection instead became a cue for unbridled jingoism, driven by an electronic media ecosystem that treated the conflict like a video game complete with blood, gore, and a cheering audience.

This reckless amplification of hypernationalism exposes a dangerous fault line in India’s public discourse. As the BJP pivots from war cries to peace platitudes, and keyboard warriors grapple with a ceasefire they were primed not to expect, it’s time to confront how electronic media let India down, and what this portends for the future.

A Diplomat Trolled

Vikram Misri, India’s Foreign Secretary, was during the recent conflict the public face of the government, leading the daily briefings in calm, measured fashion.

As part of that duty, he was the one who announced the ceasefire on May 10. His measured tone, emphasizing de-escalation while promising escalation in case of any breach, should have been a moment of clarity. Instead, it unleashed a torrent of abuse on X, where right-wing trolls branded him a “traitor” and “spineless.”

The vitriol extended to his daughter Didon Misri, an independent legal professional, whose past work with human rights organizations was twisted into accusations of “anti-national” behavior. Worse, both diplomat and daughter were doxxed, and the later subjected to vile sexual innuendo. (Worth remembering that these same digital gangs had earlier gone after Himanshi Narwal, wife of slain naval officer Vinay Narwal, with a toxic mix of libel and sexual innuendo.)

Misri was forced to lock his X account. The irony of a diplomat silenced by his own country’s digital mob escapes us.

And the government? Crickets. The government’s silence signaled a tacit acceptance of such toxic nationalism or, at the least, a reluctance to rein in forces they had themselves unleashed, and continue to use, for their own ends.

This wasn’t an isolated incident. The same media environment that emboldened trolls allowed Major (Retd.) Gaurav Arya, a frequent television bloviator, to call Iran’s Foreign Minister a “suar ka aulad” on air, sparking a diplomatic crisis. No consequences for him, or the channel that platformed him, though. In fact, Arya then doubled down, with impunity, in a follow-up post on X — after the Indian Embassy attempted to put out the fire he had lit with an apology.

The double standard—ignoring attacks on India’s own diplomats while shielding provocateurs—reveals a media landscape where sensationalism trumps responsibility.

War porn

TV channels manned by hyperventilating bloviators turned the recent conflict into a video game. Missile strikes? Cue dramatic zooms. Civilian deaths? Shrug.

This wasn’t news—it was propaganda with a laugh track.

X users and WhatsApp warriors, fed this tripe, bayed for blood, hyped for “something big.” When the ceasefire landed, they split: half tried to find explanations for why this was a “win”, while the other half hunted for scapegoats.

The media didn’t just fan these flames—it built the bonfire and provided the gasoline, gratis. The media didn’t just reflect public sentiment; it actively shaped it, creating a feedback loop of rage and retribution.

This oscillation between triumphalism and betrayal underscores how media-driven narratives set unrealistic expectations, leaving a polarized public to lash out when reality diverged from their adrenalin-fueled expectations.

The BJP, which thrives on chest-thumping, set the stage when it flipped from “smash Pakistan” to “We are all Gandhi” in three days flat.

The media didn’t blink, much less question — it swallowed the pivot whole, and enthusiastically amplified it. Meanwhile, keyboard warriors on X, hyped for “something big”, are now throwing tantrums. Across the pond, Donald Trump crowed on Truth Social, claiming he’s the “adult in the room.” India’s brass? Silent. Our media, too busy polishing Modi’s halo, let Trump steal the script. When did we outsource our spine?

This media circus isn’t funny—it’s lethal. Trolling Misri guts trust in our diplomats. Arya’s stunt risks pissing off Iran, a key ally. And a public drunk on war hype is now raging at shadows. If TV keeps hawking conflict like it’s IPL, the next flare-up won’t end with handshakes. We need regulators to leash this madness, journalists to grow a backbone, and viewers to stop clapping for clowns.

Sadly, though, I suspect this ship has sailed — so I am not even sure why I am writing all this, but thanks for reading anyway.