The modern day war is not fought on the battlefields or skylines. It’s in our news feeds, our WhatsApp groups, and even in our late-night conversations. It’s a war for the story and whoever tells the story better, wins. The recent Indo-Pak conflict or ‘mini war’, as termed by the veterans, has brought this critical truth to the surface.
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Not Just Boots and Bombs
In May 2025, while the world’s eyes were glued to satellite images of troop movement along the Line of Control and fighter jets cutting through the skies, something quieter, but far more pervasive, was happening. A different kind of warfare was unfolding, not on the ground, but in the airwaves, our screens, and a billion people’s minds.
Gone are the days when wars were only fought with tanks, planes, and firepower. Today, wars are waged in retweets, deepfakes, viral posts, hashtags, and even in the silence that follows a well-placed lie.
Information as Ammunition
In the early hours of the conflict, a video surfaced: blurry footage of what looked like an Indian jet falling from the sky. Twitter exploded. Within minutes, hashtags like #IndiaLosesSukhoi began trending in Pakistan. Nationalists celebrated. The clip was broadcast on local news.
Later, it was revealed that the footage was from 2014, a routine crash in Maharashtra, recycled to ignite emotion. This wasn’t a mistake. This was the strategy. Information Warfare doesn’t aim to destroy infrastructure. It aims to erode trust. It clouds judgment, makes facts feel optional, and plays on emotion, nationalism, and collective trauma. In this recent India-Pakistan episode, we saw it in action like never before.
Your Phone is the New Frontline
When the first rumours of an Indian covert strike broke out, people didn’t turn to newspapers or government briefings. They turned to their phones. Forwarded messages claimed Pakistan’s Prime Minister had fled. AI-generated images showed missile strikes that never happened. One message insisted that Indian troops were advancing through Sindh, complete with fabricated maps.
When the first rumours of an Indian covert strike broke out, people didn’t turn to newspapers or government briefings. They turned to their phones. Forwarded messages claimed Pakistan’s Prime Minister had fled. AI-generated images showed missile strikes that never happened. One message insisted that Indian troops were advancing through Sindh, complete with fabricated maps.
It didn’t matter if they were false. By the time fact-checkers caught up, the damage had been done. Opinions had formed, outrage had been stirred, and a thousand digital embers had lit the fire of public sentiment. This is a weaponised narrative, beyond just fake news.
Memes as Missiles, Videos as Verbal Bombs
In previous wars, a military general would plan a psychological operation. Today, it might be a 19-year-old with editing software and a strong Wi-Fi connection.
A meme mocking an opposing leader, a TikTok dance with sarcastic overlays, or a trending audio dubbed onto a missile launch might seem trivial, even humorous. But collectively, they become a cultural force. They dehumanise, they mock, and they amplify division.
In this war, humour is a weapon. So is sarcasm. So is silence. And all of it is being deployed, every second, by both sides.
The Spy Who Lived in Your Inbox
In Tarn Taran, Punjab, a man named Gagandeep Singh was arrested during Operation Sindoor for leaking sensitive Indian Army information. The spy network didn’t use briefcases and coded telegrams. It began with a Facebook friend request. Behind the profile? A Pakistan-based Khalistani handler who slowly radicalised him, coaxed him, and eventually turned him into a source. That’s the modern blueprint of espionage. Not James Bond. Just a browser and broadband.
The People Trapped in the Noise
Amid this invisible battle, civilians found themselves swept up in a tide of misinformation. Families were worried sick as false casualty lists went viral. Students were trolled for being on the “wrong side.” Journalists faced doxxing, abuse, and threats. The information war doesn’t only target institutions. It traumatises societies. It divides communities. It silences voices that ask uncomfortable questions. Apart from security, it’s about the soul of a democracy.
Can We Win the War for Truth?
India and Pakistan are both nuclear powers. But in 2025, it’s not nuclear codes that terrify the world, it’s narrative control. To win the information war, we don’t need more algorithms. We need media literacy, critical thinking, platforms that are accountable, and leaders who choose facts over fury. But more than anything, we need empathy. Because behind every meme, tweet, or post, there’s a human being. And wars fought in the mind are just as real and damaging as those fought on the ground.
