As Operation Sindoor dominated headlines and television screens across India, the mood was full of freneticism and fear. And the magnification of these emotions found its place in primetime media. What should have been a moment for sober reflection and critical reportage quickly morphed into a televised performance of patriotic fervor. The screens blazed with graphics of missiles, thundering background scores, and a rotating lineup of panelists who seemed more committed to increasing decibels than to offering clarity. The transformation was swift, but not surprising. Operation Sindoor, like other flashpoints in India-Pakistan relations, revealed not just geopolitical tensions but the deeper fault lines within India's media apparatus itself.
What we witnessed during Operation Sindoor was not an anomaly. It was the definite outcome of a media ecosystem that has long blurred the lines between information and propaganda. Anchors postured as generals. Reporters used phrases like "crushing the enemy" and "mazaa aa jayega agar bharat hamla karde toh" with alarming ease. Headlines were tailored not to report but to rally. In such an environment, dissent was treated with suspicion, and skepticism was construed as betrayal. Complex geopolitical realities were flattened into good-versus-evil narratives.
At the heart of this transformation lies the TRP economy which is a system that rewards noise over nuance, and volume over veracity. In times of conflict, TRPs soar as viewers seek updates, explanations, and assurance. However, instead of responsibly fulfilling this need, many Indian news outlets convert crises into opportunities for spectacle. Conflict coverage is turned into prime-time entertainment, complete with dramatic montages and hyper-nationalist commentary. The journalistic mission to inform is replaced with a fervent desire to excite, even incite anger and hyper-nationalism. This is not to dismiss the role of patriotism in journalism. National interest and solidarity have their place. But the conflation of patriotism with hyper-nationalism, particularly in wartime coverage, risks turning journalism into jingoism. Instead of facilitating informed public discourse, the media becomes a mirror for the most extreme elements of public opinion.
The TRP economy thrives on outrage. In quieter times, that outrage may be directed at celebrities or political opponents. In moments of military escalation, however, the target becomes the 'enemy nation,' often painted with broad strokes that ignore nuance and context. As journalists chase ratings, the lines between newsroom and war room blur. Terms like "surgical strike," "revenge," and "annihilation" are used liberally, as if lifted from a war film rather than a strategic briefing. The result is a kind of performance journalism, one that entertains but rarely informs its viewers.
This performance reporting extends to the medium of delivery itself. On platforms like X (formerly Twitter) and Instagram, reels and short videos offering "no jingoism, just facts" ironically adopt the very aesthetic of sensationalism. Influencers and commentators criticize the media's war hysteria while packaging their critiques in the same emotionally manipulative formats and in the hopes of virality. The visual language of rapid cuts, dramatic music, stylized text mirrors that of the television coverage they oppose. The message may be anti-war, but the method remains rooted in spectacle.
Several commentators in both mainstream and independent have voiced concern over this environment during Operation Sindoor. Some news outlets like Newslaundry have highlighted the emotional manipulation at play. The consequences of this media climate are profound. First, it erodes public understanding of complex geopolitical issues. Nuance is sacrificed at the altar of clarity, and clarity is redefined as certainty rather than complexity. Second, it polarizes public opinion, framing citizens as either patriots or traitors based on their alignment with dominant narratives. Third, it hampers diplomatic flexibility. When public sentiment is inflamed by media spectacle, policymakers have less room to maneuver as peace becomes politically risky, while aggression is rewarded with applause.
Perhaps the most troubling effect is the delegitimization of dissent. In a healthy democracy, disagreement is not just tolerated, it is essential. Yet during times of conflict, the media often portrays dissenters as enemies within. Journalists, academics, and activists who question the dominant narrative are hounded online, dismissed on-air, or even labeled anti-national. A particularly disturbing incident occurred when the Foreign Secretary of India was forced to privatize his X account due to a wave of death threats and doxing directed at him and his family. These threats followed his official statement made late Saturday night regarding Pakistan's breach of the recently established ceasefire agreement. Such intimidation tactics not only silence individual voices but also shrink the boundaries of acceptable public discourse, fostering a climate where conformity is celebrated and open dialogue, particularly in favor of peace, is marginalized or viewed with suspicion.
To move toward a more responsible media landscape, the focus must shift from ratings to ethics. News organizations need to invest in investigative journalism, ground reporting not just infotainment. A journalist, who happened to be a ground reporter in 2005, posted a rare video of his days in Sri Lanka-LTTE civil war reporting days, on Linkedin and highlighted this very concern wherein he believes, “Reportage was sidelined, anchors became the main act, and newsroom relevance became a function of networking, not storytelling.” India, which once had brilliant ground reporters, bringing facts and truths, has now been replaced with loud newsrooms and sensationalism. Editorial leadership must draw clear boundaries between analysis and advocacy. And audiences, too, must play their part by demanding depth over drama, and skepticism over sensationalism. The business aspect of journalism needs to be looked upon with a lens of maturity and reflection. Regulatory bodies and journalistic institutions must also step up. Self-regulation, while ideal in theory, often fails in practice, especially when market pressures dominate. A more robust framework of accountability, one that protects press freedom while ensuring ethical conduct is long overdue in India. Media literacy campaigns can also help audiences navigate the plethora of content, distinguishing between reliable reporting and ideological theatre.
Ultimately, the story of Operation Sindoor’s media coverage is not just about the media. It is about the kind of public discourse we are willing to accept. When war becomes a ratings game, and journalists become cheerleaders, we lose more than just perspective—we risk losing the very foundation of democratic dialogue. We replace deliberation with performance, thought with emotion, and truth with expediency. In this process, the true human cost of war, including the loss of life, destruction of families, and the emotional toll to all sides, certainly takes a backseat to sensationalism and spectacle.
The path forward lies not in silencing patriotic feeling, but in channelling it through integrity and responsibility. Journalism must reclaim its role as a mediator, not a megaphone. And in moments of national crisis, it must choose courage, not the courage to incite, but the courage to speak the hardest truths with enormous maturity.