(By Quratulain Khalid)
In the digital age, where information travels faster than verification, journalism bears a sacred responsibility: to illuminate truth amid chaos, not to fan the flames of prejudice and conflict. Yet, time and again, segments of the Indian media—particularly the hyper-nationalist electronic channels often derisively termed “Godi media” for their perceived subservience to governmental narratives—have abandoned this duty. They have instead transformed into amplifiers of haste, hysteria, and outright falsehoods, especially when the target is Pakistan.
The latest glaring example unfolded in the wake of the tragic terror attack at Sydney’s Bondi Beach on December 14, 2025. A father-son duo, Sajid Akram and Naveed Akram, carried out a horrific shooting during a Hanukkah celebration, claiming at least 16 lives in what Australian authorities described as an ISIS-inspired terrorist act. Almost immediately, before any official confirmation of the perpetrators’ backgrounds, a storm erupted across Indian TV channels, online portals, and YouTube influencers. Names like “Sajid Akram” and “Naveed Akram” were seized upon, hastily branded as “of Pakistani origin,” and woven into a familiar narrative: Pakistan as the perpetual “epicenter of terrorism.”
Anchors thundered about Pakistan’s alleged hand in global terror, linking the Bondi atrocity to Islamabad without a shred of evidence. Social media accounts aligned with right-wing ecosystems amplified doctored images and unverified claims, including misidentified photos of innocent Pakistani-Australians, leading to harassment and fear in diaspora communities. One innocent Naveed Akram, a Pakistani-origin businessman in Australia, described his ordeal as a “nightmare” after his photo was falsely circulated as the shooter’s. Outlets like Organiser, Times of India (in early reports), and NDTV initially echoed or entertained notions of Pakistani nationality, citing unconfirmed sources or social media buzz.
As facts emerged—painstakingly confirmed by Australian police, Indian authorities in Telangana, and international media—the narrative crumbled. Sajid Akram, the father, was an Indian citizen from Hyderabad, who had migrated to Australia in 1998 on a student visa, later obtaining residency. He held an Indian passport and had visited India multiple times since leaving. His son, Naveed, was Australian-born. Telangana police explicitly stated that the radicalization had “no connection with India or any local influence.” Yet, the damage was done: a baseless vilification of Pakistan, broadcast to millions, reinforcing stereotypes and stoking bilateral animosities at a moment when sober reporting was needed most.
This was not mere error born of speed; it was a pattern of recklessness, where verification takes a backseat to narrative convenience. The venom directed at Pakistan is particularly virulent in these circles, portraying it not as a neighbor with complex shared history, but as an existential enemy responsible for every ill. Such reporting does not inform; it inflames.
This Bondi episode echoes a deeper, more dangerous precedent set earlier in 2025, during the intense India-Pakistan military standoff from May 6-10. Sparked by the horrific Pahalgam terrorist attack on April 22, 2025—which claimed 26 lives, mostly Indian tourists, in Jammu and Kashmir—the crisis escalated rapidly into missile and drone exchanges, bringing the nuclear-armed rivals perilously close to full-scale war. India launched “Operation Sindoor,” targeting alleged terror infrastructure, while Pakistan retaliated.
In those fraught days, Indian Godi media descended into outright farce, becoming a global laughingstock for its barrage of fabricated triumphs. Channels breathlessly reported that India had “destroyed Karachi port,” “captured Lahore,” “shot down multiple Pakistani jets,” and even “arrested Pakistan’s army chief in a coup.” Fake videos—recycled from old conflicts, video games, or AI-generated—were aired as “exclusive footage.” Claims of Pakistani surrenders, nuclear base strikes causing radiation leaks, and naval devastations flooded screens. WhatsApp forwards from alleged “sources” in state broadcasters fueled prime-time hysteria.
International observers and fact-checkers were stunned. Outlets like The Guardian, Washington Post, and Reuters documented how these falsehoods not only misled the Indian public—causing panic, school closures, and airport shutdowns—but also hindered diplomacy. As a ceasefire was brokered on May 10, largely through U.S. intervention, the world watched Indian media’s claims evaporate. No ports destroyed, no cities captured, no coups. The scale of false news and their shameless amplification by mainstream Indian channels—reaching hundreds of millions—drew particular scorn.
Critics, including Indian journalists and opposition figures, lambasted this as “informational warfare” gone awry, where loyalty to a nationalist script trumped facts. The term “Godi media” trended globally, not as satire, but as indictment. It exposed a media ecosystem where sensationalism yields ratings, and anti-Pakistan rhetoric aligns with political winds, consequences be damned.
This reckless attitude has profound costs. It erodes public trust in journalism, polarizes societies, and poisons bilateral relations at moments when de-escalation is critical. In the Bondi case, it wrongly smeared a nation unrelated to the tragedy. In May, it nearly fueled uncontrolled escalation between nuclear powers.
True journalism demands rigor: cross-verification, sourcing, and restraint. When media outlets—especially those with vast reach—prioritize agenda over accuracy, they cease to be watchdogs and become enablers of division. India boasts a vibrant press tradition; it deserves better than propaganda masquerading as news.
As global challenges mount, from terrorism to climate crises, responsible reporting is not optional—it’s imperative. The Indian media’s repeated lapses against Pakistan serve as a cautionary tale: haste and hatred make poor bedfellows with truth. It’s time for introspection, accountability, and a return to the fundamentals of the craft. The world—and the region—cannot afford otherwise.
