The drama of the so-called Pahalgam attack in Indian-Illegally Occupied Jammu & Kashmir has once again revealed the brittle scaffolding propping up Narendra Modi’s Hindutva-infused regime. In the past, incidents such as this have typically been weaponized to rally domestic support, often through a barrage of performative nationalism and stage-managed narratives. But this time, something has shifted. While the United States and Israel remain loyal allies, much of the international community has responded not with the usual deference, but with hesitation—some even with alarm. And when sections of India’s own educated, urban Hindu population begin to question the state’s version of events, the cracks in the story become impossible to paper over.
The timing of this latest controversy could hardly have been more damning. Just as New Delhi celebrated the signing of a high-profile defence agreement with Paris, purchasing 27 advanced fighter jets, French media delivered a body blow to the Indian government’s credibility. Their reporting uncovered a digital operation so cynical and calculated that it bordered on dystopian. Artificial Intelligence (AI), the tool increasingly hailed as the future of governance and development, was instead deployed for something altogether different: deception. AI was used to generate manipulated visuals, repackage mundane content into manufactured tragedy, and disseminate these falsehoods through complicit Indian media outlets and social media networks.
Among the most grotesque examples was the reuse of a holiday video belonging to a couple who had visited Pahalgam years earlier. Their cheerful footage was rebranded to portray them as victims of a so-called terror attack. Another case involved Lieutenant Norul, a soldier whose name was co-opted into the narrative without his knowledge or relevance to the incident. These fabrications, aired with an almost theatrical confidence, were not the results of an intelligence error or bureaucratic confusion. They were deliberate, staged, and politically expedient. In short, this was not a failure of statecraft. It was stagecraft of the most dangerous kind.
India’s media, by now accustomed to functioning as an echo chamber for the central government, was quick to amplify the false narrative. Nationalist rhetoric dominated headlines and primetime debates, drowning out dissent and skepticism. But it was not enough. As the fabricated details unraveled, eyewitnesses and survivors courageously stepped forward to challenge the official story. Their testimonies, raw and honest, dismantled the government’s version with a force that even the most jingoistic anchors struggled to discredit. The videos and images presented as ‘evidence’ were quickly exposed as unverifiable, their provenance either unclear or demonstrably manipulated. This was not a matter of journalistic oversight—it was a digital smoking gun.
The implications of this deception went far beyond domestic politics. On 22 April, in the immediate aftermath of the alleged attack that reportedly claimed 26 lives, the Indian government hastily blamed Pakistan. This was followed by a suspension of the Indus Waters Treaty, one of the region’s most significant and enduring diplomatic agreements. In a further act of political hostility, all Pakistani nationals were instructed to leave India without delay. Pakistan’s response was markedly restrained in comparison. It closed its airspace to Indian aircraft and called for an international investigation into the incident. India, notably, has remained silent.
Perhaps more telling than Delhi’s silence is the emerging chorus of international voices willing to stand beside Islamabad in calling for transparency. China, Turkiye, and Switzerland, among others, have supported Pakistan’s demand for an independent inquiry. Their position is not just about geopolitical alliances—it is an acknowledgment that in the age of AI and digital disinformation, the stakes are higher than ever. At risk is not only regional stability, but the credibility of cross-border narratives themselves. When truth becomes malleable, shaped by algorithms and nationalist agendas, the very foundation of global diplomacy is imperiled.
Still, while it is easy—and necessary—to criticize the Modi administration’s dangerous mix of religious nationalism and media manipulation, we must also turn the lens inward. In our rush to decry Hindutva, how often do we confront the extremism simmering within our own borders? Too often, our condemnation of others is not matched by introspection. We ignore our own social fissures, our religious intolerance, our creeping authoritarianism. The distortion we see in India is not entirely foreign. It reflects, in uncomfortable ways, some of our own failures.
This moment, therefore, should not only demand accountability from across the border. It must serve as a catalyst for self-examination. We live in an age where reality itself can be engineered, where truth is no longer rooted in evidence but in virility. Governments are no longer just custodians of policy—they are curators of perception. In such a landscape, credibility is not bestowed by position or power. It is earned through humility, transparency, and the courage to confront uncomfortable truths. The Pahalgam affair is not just an indictment of a government willing to manipulate tragedy for political gain. It is a warning about the fragile state of our democratic institutions and the perils of unchecked nationalism in a digital world. It is also a reminder that in the battle between truth and propaganda, silence is complicity.
As editors, readers, and citizens, we must resist the temptation to let this story fade into the next news cycle. We must ask difficult questions—not only of those who lead others astray, but of ourselves. What kind of information do we accept uncritically? What voices do we silence, intentionally or otherwise? And how can we protect the space for truth in a world increasingly hostile to it? To demand honesty from others while ignoring our own shortcomings is not only hypocritical—it is futile. In the long run, truth will not be dictated by political convenience or technological sophistication. It will be sustained by those willing to fight for it, even when it is inconvenient, even when it is hard.
