The April 22, 2025, massacre in Pahalgam, Jammu and Kashmir, which claimed 26 lives, has brought to light the vulnerabilities surrounding the use of commercial satellite imagery for intelligence. A major U.S. satellite imagery provider, Maxar Technologies, has come under scrutiny after a surge in orders for high-resolution images of Pahalgam and surrounding areas, with multiple requests placed in the months leading up to the attack. The incident has raised critical questions about the risks posed by the easy availability of such imagery, the vetting process for international partners, and the implications for national security.

Surge in Orders for Pahalgam Imagery

Maxar Technologies, a leader in high-definition satellite imagery, experienced an unusual spike in orders for images of Pahalgam between June 2024 and February 2025. Orders for high-resolution images, essential for military surveillance and infrastructure monitoring, peaked in February 2025, with a final order placed just ten days before the attack. While the identities of the clients behind these orders remain unknown, the coincidence of their timing with the attack has sparked suspicions among defense analysts. Though no direct link has been established between these orders and the terrorist assault, experts have expressed concern that such detailed imagery could have been exploited to plan the attack.

Business Systems International Pvt Ltd (BSI) and Maxar’s Partnership

Adding complexity to the situation is Maxar’s partnership with Business Systems International Pvt Ltd (BSI), a Pakistani geospatial firm owned by Obaidullah Syed, a convicted Pakistani-American businessman. Syed was sentenced in 2022 for illegally exporting high-performance computing equipment to the Pakistan Atomic Energy Commission (PAEC), a body responsible for Pakistan’s nuclear and missile programs. Despite Syed’s criminal background, BSI remained a partner with Maxar.

The partnership raised alarms due to BSI’s role in sensitive exports, and its continued involvement with Maxar after Syed’s conviction became a point of concern. Though there is no evidence that BSI placed the orders for Pahalgam imagery, the timing and the firm’s history raised questions about the adequacy of Maxar’s vetting process for its international partners. After the controversy erupted, Maxar removed BSI from its partner list, though this action came only after the media attention.

Maxar’s Response and Accountability

Maxar Technologies denied that BSI placed orders for Pahalgam imagery and emphasized that it does not share client information without permission. However, the company’s delayed response to the issue and its weak vetting process for international partners have drawn criticism. The case underscores the growing risks posed by commercial satellite imagery, which is increasingly available to anyone willing to pay for it. Without adequate checks, this powerful tool can be misused by rogue elements or adversaries to carry out hostile activities, as was allegedly the case in Pahalgam.

Risks to National Security

The Pahalgam incident highlights the security risks of relying on foreign satellite imagery providers. While such imagery is indispensable for military and surveillance operations, the availability of high-resolution images to commercial clients increases the potential for misuse. As more private space-tech companies enter the market, governments must ensure stronger regulations and safeguards surrounding the use of geospatial data, especially in sensitive regions.

India, which heavily depends on foreign space-tech companies for geospatial intelligence, must take a proactive approach to secure its data. This could involve developing self-reliant systems for satellite surveillance or pushing for international regulations on the trade of high-resolution imagery.

Conclusion: A Wake-Up Call for Surveillance Practices

The Pahalgam satellite imagery controversy serves as a stark reminder of the vulnerabilities in the global surveillance landscape. While Maxar Technologies has removed BSI from its partner list, the incident raises larger questions about the commercial availability of sensitive satellite data and the need for stricter controls. Governments must tighten regulations and ensure that foreign satellite providers uphold stringent security standards to prevent misuse by hostile actors. This incident is a call to action for the international community to establish robust protocols for managing the risks associated with satellite surveillance.

“The mind becomes the battlefield and media an instrument of war.”

In 2004, after returning from Iraq, former U.S. Army officer Ralph Peters wrote a searing op-ed in the New York Post. His words were clear: “The media weren’t reporting. They were taking sides. With our enemies. And our enemies won. Because, under media assault, we lost our will to fight on… The Marines in Fallujah weren’t beaten by the terrorists and insurgents… They were beaten by Al Jazeera. By lies.”

His point was sharp and prescient: in modern warfare, the media is not merely a chronicler of events—it is a combatant.

The Illusion of Neutrality

In times of conflict, the press often insists on a stance of neutrality. But this so-called objectivity is far removed from any true or meaningful neutrality. A headline, a ticker, a photograph—each can shape national morale or fracture it. In the age of hybrid warfare, information becomes a weapon. And those who disseminate it are combatants, whether they accept it or not.

Take, for instance, the concept of “positive auxiliary assistance” in information warfare. On social media, users—intentionally or not—spread narratives that bolster national interests. Whether these narratives are perfectly factual or not, their strategic value lies in countering adversarial propaganda and reinforcing the national psyche. In cognitive warfare, the target is not territory but the mind: shaping beliefs, manipulating emotions, and altering behavior through information.

From Kargil to Operation Sindoor: A Changed Landscape

The Kargil War in 1999 was India’s first televised war. Today, Operation Sindoor can be streamed live from mobile phones across the world. Our information consumption has grown exponentially. But so has our vulnerability.

Social media platforms operate on a fundamentally different logic from traditional media. There’s no editor, no gatekeeper. A single anonymous account can spread content just as widely as The Hindu or Republic TV. In this unfiltered, fast-moving environment, fake news is cheap—but its cost to society is staggering.

The risk is not just military. It’s political. We may win battles on the ground, but surrender our strategic advantage in the media. Speed kills, but so does misreporting.

Lessons from Rwanda, Somalia, and the Cold War

History has already warned us. In Rwanda and Somalia, civilian broadcasters incited mass violence. In the early Cold War, U.S. President Harry Truman recognized the strategic value of media and launched the Campaign of Truth, urging journalists to support the national cause in countering Soviet propaganda.

India must now internalize this lesson.

Media as a Frontline Asset

The media is no longer neutral terrain. It is an active battlefield. Morale, international perception, and the enemy’s confidence are all shaped by media output.

India’s media must act as a strategic asset—not a chaotic echo chamber. This does not mean blind cheerleading or jingoism. It means disciplined, responsible journalism with national security at its core.

• Avoid performative objectivity. Confused or contradictory reporting during wartime can inflict more damage than enemy fire.
• Headline discipline matters. So do visuals and tickers. Perception fuels warfare.
• Respect operational secrecy. Avoid real-time location leaks, troop movements, or sensitive footage that could be exploited by the enemy.
• Coordinate with defense authorities. Clarify, verify, and confirm before broadcasting battlefield updates.
• Frame the narrative. English-language and global outlets must highlight India’s legal, moral, and defensive justifications. India did not start this war. But we must finish it—militarily and narratively.
• Establish wartime editorial protocols. Decide what to publish, what to delay, and how to fact-check without compromising speed.

Win the War, Win the Narrative

Victory on the battlefield is only half the war. The other half is waged in headlines, hashtags, and reels.

Information dominance is military dominance.

India’s journalists, editors, influencers, and media houses must rise to the moment. We are at war—not just with bullets, but with words, images, and narratives. In this war, neutrality is not virtue. Strategic clarity is.

The media must not become a liability. It must be a line of defense.

 The Pahalgam Massacre That Shook a Nation

On April 22, 2025, the idyllic town of Pahalgam in Jammu and Kashmir was shattered by a brutal terrorist attack. Militants affiliated with Jaish-e-Mohammed (JeM) and Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT) opened fire in a crowded market, killing 26 civilians—tourists, hotel workers, pony owners—people with dreams and families, now lost forever. The tragedy didn’t just take lives; it tore through the soul of a grieving nation.

The massacre marked a breaking point. What followed was not just a military response, but a deeply emotional reckoning—Operation Sindoor. The name “Sindoor” was carefully chosen. Rooted in the ancient Sindhu River that flows through both India and Pakistan, the word evokes a shared history, but also the deep divide created by partition. In Indian tradition, sindoor (vermilion) symbolizes sacrifice, protection, and the promise of resilience. The operation was India’s vow: never again to allow such bloodshed to go unanswered.

Day 1 – May 7: A Night of Retribution

At 1:05 AM on May 7, India launched a precise and powerful air campaign. Rafale jets, flying under the cover of darkness, crossed into Pakistan and Pakistan-occupied Kashmir (PoK), striking nine terror camps in Bahawalpur, Muridke, Balakot, Manshera, and Muzaffarabad. In just 25 minutes, 70 militants—including JeM commander Abdul Rauf Azhar—were eliminated.

These strikes were more than military action. They were a message to every Indian who had lost someone in Pahalgam: your pain has not been forgotten. It was a declaration that India would no longer wait for justice—it would deliver it.

Amid the tactical success, Pakistan’s economic vulnerabilities began to surface. The country’s fiscal deficit widened, and its foreign exchange reserves dipped dangerously low. A war of attrition was not something Pakistan could afford.

Day 2 – May 8: Escalation on the Ground and at Sea

On the second day, the Line of Control (LoC) ignited. Pakistani forces shelled Indian posts in Uri, Poonch, and Kargil. India responded with disciplined yet forceful counter-fire. Each shell fired carried the weight of years of hostility and the agony of fresh loss.

Simultaneously, the Indian Navy deployed the INS Vikrant near Pakistani waters in the Arabian Sea. The message was unambiguous: India was prepared to fight across every domain—land, air, and sea.

Day 3 – May 9: The Diplomacy Gap and a Ceasefire in Doubt

As global leaders scrambled to de-escalate tensions, backchannel diplomacy intensified. Countries like the United States, France, and the UAE urged restraint. India, having met its military objectives, signaled openness to a halt in operations—but not an official ceasefire. India’s stance was conditional: Pakistan had to act decisively against terror groups operating on its soil.

That same day, the International Monetary Fund (IMF) approved a $1 billion disbursement to Pakistan under a $7 billion bailout plan. In India, this raised red flags. Could these funds, meant to stabilize a crumbling economy, be diverted to further military buildup or terrorism?

By evening, hopes of calm were dashed. Pakistan violated the informal truce by resuming artillery fire along the LoC. It became clear: though Operation Sindoor’s initial military phase had concluded, peace was still a distant dream.

The Ceasefire Question: Was It Ever Real?

Contrary to some reports, India did not formally announce a ceasefire. It had paused active military operations after Day 3, but remained on high alert. Pakistan, on the other hand, publicly acknowledged a desire for de-escalation—yet its continued shelling cast doubt on the sincerity of that intent. The ceasefire, in essence, existed more on paper and in diplomatic halls than in reality.

Conclusion: The Fire That Still Burns

Operation Sindoor was not merely about missiles and air raids—it was about memory, mourning, and justice. It reminded the world that India’s patience has limits, and its commitment to protect its citizens is absolute. But it also exposed the fragile nature of peace in the subcontinent.

For Pakistan, the economic burden grows heavier. The IMF relief is a bandage on a deeper wound—a faltering economy strained further by military ambitions and global mistrust.

And for India, while the strikes brought a measure of justice, they also reopened old wounds. The families of Pahalgam’s victims may find some solace, but true peace remains elusive. Operation Sindoor may have ended militarily, but emotionally, for many, it continues. The cost of terrorism, once again, has been counted in lives lost, dreams broken, and a nation’s resolve rekindled.