“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.

Murshidabad, West Bengal – What began as a protest over the controversial Waqf Act has now escalated into what many are calling a communal flashpoint, with the town of Murshidabad at its epicentre. As Hindu families mourn their dead, flee their homes, and allege systematic targeting, a deeper, more unsettling undercurrent involving illegal Bangladeshi migrants, Islamist toolkits, and state inaction appears to be driving the violence.

The Murder That Sparked a Storm

The violence took a deadly turn with the brutal killing of 55-year-old Harigobindo Das and his son Chandan Das. The father-son duo, both local Hindu businessmen, were reportedly hacked to death by a mob amid the chaos. The prime accused, now arrested, is said to be affiliated with groups closely linked to the anti-Waqf law protests. This gruesome act has become a chilling symbol of the ongoing unrest.

According to India Today, the attacker was directly involved in the orchestration of violent riots masquerading as peaceful protests. Intelligence officials suspect the hand of organised groups with links to Bangladesh-based Islamist organisations, exploiting communal fault lines in Bengal’s border districts.

The Plight of Parul Das: A Microcosm of Fear

One of the most haunting stories from Murshidabad is that of Parul Das, a widow who lost her entire home and livelihood in the violence. In her words, “They marked our houses. They came prepared.” Her cries for justice have echoed far beyond her village, stirring national outrage.

As The Indian Express reported, Parul’s village now stands divided by fear. Many Hindu families have either fled or are living under makeshift police protection. The sense of betrayal is deepened by the perceived inaction of the local administration, which many believe is paralysed by vote-bank compulsions and communal appeasement.

Marked for Attack: Visual Evidence Emerges

Social media videos — including a viral YouTube clip — show Hindu homes in Murshidabad marked with blue ink, eerily reminiscent of targeting tactics used during past communal pogroms. Several activists and retired intelligence officers have called it a form of “psychological warfare” aimed at intimidation and eventual displacement.

Illegal Bangladeshi Migrants: The Unspoken Threat

The role of illegal Bangladeshi migrants in the current unrest is becoming impossible to ignore. According to an Organiser report, Murshidabad, which borders Bangladesh, has long been a hub for illegal infiltration. These migrants, often radicalised and undocumented, are said to be fueling local unrest and swelling the ranks of violent mobs.

In fact, experts believe that the demographic manipulation aided by years of political protection has created a parallel power structure that now challenges the Indian state itself. As the report notes, “Mamata Banerjee’s government sleeps over it — for reasons best understood in terms of electoral calculus.”

Toolkits, Doctored Videos, and a Broader Agenda

Adding fuel to the fire, intelligence sources have flagged a troubling trend: the circulation of pre-planned protest toolkits, doctored videos, and coordinated misinformation campaigns on social media. A News18 investigation links these digital footprints to the same elements that were active during the CAA protests — some with ties to the banned Jamaat-e-Islami and external agencies in Bangladesh.

Weapons caches recovered from protest sites suggest that these were not spontaneous uprisings, but premeditated attacks disguised as civil resistance.

Women Bear the Brunt

The National Commission for Women (NCW) has issued a damning report, stating that the attacks were “deliberate and premeditated,” and that women from the Hindu community were specifically targeted. Several testimonies collected by the Commission point to attempted molestations, property vandalism, and threats of rape — raising serious questions about law enforcement’s inability to prevent or contain the violence.

Central Forces Stepping In

Following widespread outrage and a public interest litigation, the Calcutta High Court directed the deployment of 17 companies of central forces to stabilise the region. The Union Home Ministry, which had been monitoring the situation, acted swiftly to prevent further escalation.

While the deployment has brought temporary relief, the root causes — illegal immigration, religious radicalisation, and state apathy — remain unaddressed.

Conclusion: A Tipping Point for Bengal?

Murshidabad is no longer just a law-and-order problem — it’s a cautionary tale of what happens when national security, demographic control, and communal balance are sacrificed at the altar of vote-bank politics. As Waqf lands become a flashpoint and communities are pitted against each other, the question remains: Who will ensure justice and stability in Bengal — when the state seems unwilling or unable to act?

Will this be a wake-up call for India’s policymakers, or just another chapter in the long list of ignored warnings from Bengal’s bleeding borderlands? Watch our video about the Murshidabad Waqf riot.