In a Kyiv bomb shelter, a wartime president addresses his people via a smartphone. In London, thousands march with foreign flags, chanting in solidarity with a land under siege. In Tehran’s studios, state TV anchors broadcast messages across the Middle East. These scenes show that modern conflicts are fought not only with missiles, but also with narratives that leap across borders. Digital stories and images have become a strategic frontline. From a communications perspective, war is now “about perception, telling a story about who is the victim and who is the aggressor.” Across the world, this “correspondence of conflict”—the public narrative back-and-forth of war—is shaping alliances, foreign policy, and diplomacy.

Three conflict zones illustrate this trend and each case demonstrates how digital communication and international perception can sway the course of wars and the world’s response.

Ukraine: Zelensky’s War of Words and Images

From day one of Russia’s full-scale invasion in February 2022, Ukraine fought on the information front. President Zelensky posted a defiant video from central Kyiv declaring, “We are here”—proof that he and his cabinet had not fled and would resist. That brief clip set the tone for a new kind of wartime leadership, harnessing social media to rally the nation and win support abroad.

Zelensky understood that winning the narrative was as crucial as winning battles. He turned communication into a strategic weapon, delivering daily addresses to rally Ukrainians and making personal appeals to international audiences. One public diplomacy expert noted that Zelensky uses every platform — from speeches to X — to press Ukraine’s case. Under his guidance, Ukraine offered a model for how a nation under attack can shape its image via digital media.

Equally remarkable was how Ukrainian society joined the effort. Government social-media accounts adopted memes and other humor to keep Ukraine in global headlines and counter Russian propaganda. Ordinary Ukrainians became citizen reporters, sharing raw videos of bombed neighborhoods, civilian resilience, and frontline heroics. “Every Ukrainian became a voice of the embattled country . . . an eyewitness of brave resistance,” observed one analysis. Unpolished clips of everyday bravery had a major impact, their authenticity cutting through Kremlin propaganda. Amplified by influencers and a volunteer “PR Army” of communication professionals, these real-time stories helped truth prevail over disinformation.

This digital people’s war paid off diplomatically. By winning hearts and minds abroad, Ukraine won unprecedented international support. Public opinion abroad pressured many governments to impose tough sanctions on Russia and send weapons to Kyiv. NATO and EU leaders that once hesitated became more unified behind Ukraine, reflecting how Zelensky’s media diplomacy translated into tangible aid. Even diplomatic forums became venues for Ukraine’s narrative: at a 2024 peace summit in Switzerland, Zelensky’s team ensured global media heard his call for a “just peace.” In short, strategic storytelling reinforced Ukraine’s physical defense by aligning the world’s support with the nation’s struggle.

Israel–Gaza: A War of Narratives and Global Reactions

On October 7, 2023, Hamas militants attacked Israel. Graphic videos of the assault spread online within hours, sparking global outrage and sympathy for Israel. Israel quickly cast the attack as “Israel’s 9/11” and launched a military response. But as Israeli bombs pounded Gaza, a parallel war of narratives unfolded over who was the victim and who was the aggressor. Analysts noted that the conflict was about perception, with civilian suffering becoming the center of gravity for international support.

In Gaza, Hamas and ordinary Palestinians flooded social media with images of destroyed buildings and wounded civilians to sway global opinion. In past Gaza wars, support for Israel “faded as sympathies turned toward the Palestinians” amid high civilian casualties, and 2023 followed that pattern. Hamas’s media wing effectively used such footage to change international opinion. Outrage over the suffering sparked protests from Istanbul to London, with demonstrators waving Palestinian flags and demanding an end to the bombardment. 

Israel, meanwhile, pushed its own narrative: officials emphasized Hamas’s brutality and use of human shields, and the Israel Defense Forces circulated videos of precision strikes to show efforts to minimize civilian harm. Both sides churned out reams of supporting footage and armies of online supporters around the world eagerly shared content echoing their side’s view.

The information war peaked with the Gaza hospital explosion. Within minutes of the blast, Hamas blamed an Israeli airstrike for the carnage, while Israel insisted a misfired Palestinian rocket was to blame. Social media lit up with competing claims long before any evidence emerged. “False assertions flew on the internet,” demonstrating how each side weaponized unverified information (later evidence pointed to a failed militant rocket, but by then each narrative had hardened). This episode epitomized “Truth Decay”—the collapse of shared facts as partisans embraced whatever fit their narrative.

As these narratives battled, governments felt the pressure. The mounting civilian toll in Gaza and the global outcry forced Israel’s allies to grapple with public demands for ceasefires or restraint. Western leaders supportive of Israel faced protests at home, prompting some to soften their stance. In international forums, debates often mirrored the dueling narratives seen online. Even firm alliances strained under public opinion. The Israel–Gaza war showed that controlling the story is now integral to war. Military operations ran hand-in-hand with messaging. And as chants of “Stop bombing Gaza” or “Stand with Israel” echoed worldwide, it became clear that public sentiment can sway diplomatic calculations—sometimes pushing leaders toward de-escalation.

Iran: The Public Diplomacy of Resistance

Iran demonstrates how a narrative campaign can be waged outside of active battle to build influence. Tehran’s theocratic regime uses public diplomacy as a strategic tool to shape regional opinion. It leans on a “menu of narratives” that appeal to Arab and Muslim sensibilities—anti-imperialism, Islamic unity, and support for the Palestinian cause. By casting itself as the champion of the oppressed and the chief opponent of U.S. and Israeli aggression, Iran seeks to win hearts and minds across the Middle East.

Tehran propagates its message through state-controlled media and cultural outreach. International outlets like Press TV (English) and Al-Alam (Arabic) broadcast Iran’s perspective globally, countering Western narratives. By using media as a diplomatic tool, Iran aims to shape its image and build sympathy abroad. 

The regime also runs cultural and religious programs—from conferences to schools—to reinforce its “resistance” narrative. On social media, Iranian leaders speak directly to foreign publics: Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamenei operates official X accounts in multiple languages to spread his message internationally. Meanwhile, Tehran’s cyber proxies wage covert influence campaigns: investigators found Iranian-run accounts masquerading as locals online to push anti-Saudi and anti-Israel propaganda.

This narrative offensive has helped Iran punch above its weight. By hammering themes of Muslim solidarity and Western perfidy, Iran has stirred sympathy among segments of the Arab public. U.S. analysts admit that while Washington focused on sanctions and military pressure, Iran was busy winning the war on the Arab street. The United States effectively “ceded the battleground of public diplomacy,” one report concluded, allowing Iran’s narrative to go unchallenged. Thus, when Iran backs proxy militias in places like Lebanon or Iraq, it often frames that support not as interference but as solidarity in a common struggle—an image that resonates with many. By mastering the narrative, Tehran has managed to expand its influence even under sanctions and isolation, wielding soft power where hard power cannot openly go.

The New Battlefield of Narratives

In a hyper-connected age, the narrative battlefield is nearly as crucial as the physical battlefield. Alliances form or fray based on the stories that dominate social media and television. Leaders must recognize that a viral tweet or image can sway international action faster than diplomatic cables. But this new reality also means misinformation can cause chaos like a missile strike. With every smartphone a potential broadcast, truth and propaganda often blur. The challenge is to counter falsehoods even as we harness communication for good. As one commentator noted, engaging with the media can “contribute to a successful peacemaking process” and should not be overlooked by policymakers.

The cases of Ukraine, Gaza, and Iran show that public communication is now a critical front. A compelling narrative can rally supporters or pressure governments more than any negotiation. Ultimately, who prevails in a war may hinge on whose story the world believes. The pen and the camera have become mighty weapons – and wielding them effectively could help shape a peaceful future.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: Address by President of the Republic of Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelensky, Image sourced from Wikimedia Commons | CC License, no changes made

French president Emmanuel Macron held a press conference on January 3, 2018 in which he announced “a change to [France’s] legal arsenal to protect democratic life from fake news.”^[1]

According to the statement, news content produced around election time will be subjected to more stringent guidelines. Little information has been released since the announcement in early January, but the suggestion of such a law was enough to spark discussions about the relationship between the French government and the media —the president versus the press, “le pouvoir et la contrepouvoir,” or the power and counterpower.^[2] To some degree, this dynamic mirrors the relationship between the President of the United States and the American media, and yet France presents a unique case since its leadership is largely left of center in France.

I briefly explore Macron’s personal relationship with fake news during the campaign and until his election as president. I then consider potential lines of reasoning for the proposed law, and in the process I argue that such an approach would be unwise for the Macron government.

Fake News in the French Presidential Election of 2017

During the French campaign season, critics viewed this election as a proxy war in a grand showdown between liberal globalism on the one hand, and authoritarian fascism on the other. Some critics pointed to the outcome of the Brexit referendum and the U.S. presidential election as signs that the multicultural project was in retreat. In its place, they feared the rise of populist strongmen like Donald Trump, UKIP, and, in France’s case, Marine Le Pen and her National Front.^[3] Though this view neatly placed the French election into a larger narrative, it missed a perhaps more pressing point that counted as a factor in all three elections: the organized dissemination of lies and rumors.^[4]

In France, these attacks were organized largely by Russian media outlets, and they especially targeted then-candidate Macron. Evidently, the Russian government had an interest in a Le Pen victory. Therefore, as her most successful competitor, Macron became the subject of scrutiny by the Kremlin-run news agencies Sputnik and Russia Today (RT). Unsupported gossip about Macron was sprinkled across articles, like the suggestions that he was secretly gay or that he had ties to Hillary Clinton.^[5] After some time, Macron banned RT and Sputnik from his campaign events, accusing them of operating as propaganda machines and funding cyberattack efforts against him.^[6] The news agencies, outraged, accused Macron of violating the freedom of the press.

Macron was quite personally affected by the misinformation spread by Russian-run RT and Sputnik. Given his personal history with the press, is it therefore justifiable to impose restrictions on the content of news articles around election time?

Analyzing Reasoning for the Law

Let us first consider the facts. Emmanuel Macron won a plurality of the first round of the French election, and he defeated Marine Le Pen with an outright majority (66.1%) in the second.^[7] That he won, and by such a wide margin, puts to rest the charge that any false rumors or Russian-spread propaganda affected the results of the election, at least not to an extent that can be easily seen in the data. One may make the case that the “fake news” spread by RT and Sputnik surrounding the other candidates may have had a substantial enough effect to buoy Le Pen into the second round, since she placed second in the first round by about 1.3% of the vote. This, however, amounts to over 400,000 votes.^[8] Arguing that Russian media may have swayed those 400,000 voters is possible, but the claim is tenuous at best. In any case, the French election system allows for a second round, where the French people unquestionably chose Macron as their future president. If the intended goal of the Russians was, in fact, to ruin Macron’s chances by spreading gossip, they failed miserably.

If the Russian agenda had nothing to do with influencing the outcome of the French election, but instead was organized to ruin the reputations of its candidates in order to decrease French confidence in their future government, then an anti-fake news law could be appropriate. Of course, if this were indeed the Russian agenda, then there must be some demonstrated decrease in French trust in their government since the election. But a study published in September 2017 concerning French political trust shows that this is not the case. Admittedly, French confidence in government is low, but the paper points to a steady trend of low confidence since the time of Nicolas Sarkozy in the mid-2000s.^[9] This mistrust, the study contends, is related not to false rumors spread by Russians, but to “broader political and sociodemographic variables” which the study tested. In other words, fake news had little to no effect on the level of confidence the French had in their representative government. Therefore, advocating stricter media regulations on the basis of protecting public confidence in government would be disingenuous.

President Macron claims that this law’s intention is to “protect democracy from… fake news,” specifically in reference to false political rumors spread on social media outlets like Facebook and Twitter.^[10] However, there are two outstanding problems with this approach.

First, by positioning itself as the guardian of truth, the French government would act as a censor. To be sure, the French government is not at all arguing for the censorship of any critical comments. Françoise Nyssen, the French Minister of Culture, has recently clarified that the law is limited in scope and would only affect those viral news stories classified as “fake.”^[11]The French government has not yet specified what standard will be used to determine a story’s falsehood, or which fake stories it will prioritize for removal.

But what makes this case similar to China’s censorship is the codification of a hierarchy defining the “truth,” with the government at the top and social media companies and news agencies subject to its evaluation. No clear check on the government’s power has been specified. At present, French citizens may trust the judgment of Macron’s administration when it comes to the truth, but laws and institutions survive the test of time—political fortunes do not. In the hands of a leader with poorer judgment, this law would not serve to protect democracy, but to weaken it.

Additionally, by undermining faith in the civilian population to form its own judgments about trustworthy sources, the government would sow mistrust and weaken its support among a populace already disappointed with its governance. According to a 2017 survey organized by the Kantar Group, an international market research organization, 56% of the French population count major television news networks as their main source of news. Of course, Kantar did not include RT France among those major news networks. Only 9% of those surveyed identified social media as their major news source.  Furthermore, 73% stated that they do not trust news coming from social media, and 83% answered that they have identified fake news at some point online.^[12] The data thus reveal that the French population is not as susceptible to fake news stories as Macron’s proposed law would otherwise suggest. There is therefore little logical reasoning substantiating the claim that French democracy is falling prey to fake news stories.

Conclusion

The virality of false news online does pose a challenge to the democratic process, and the issue is made all the more serious by the news’ propaganda-like nature. But censorship in the form advocated for by Macron and his government is not a realistic solution. A more effective approach would empower and educate French citizens to identify “fake news.” Admittedly, this would be no easy task. Nonetheless, the evidence cited throughout this analysis has repeatedly demonstrated the weakness of the proposed law’s limited scope.

Endnotes

^[1] Chrisafis, Angelique. “Emmanuel Macron Promises Ban on Fake News during Elections.” The Guardian,

Guardian News, 3 Jan. 2018.

^[2] Élysée (@Elysee) “LIVE | Vœux 2018 du Président de la République @EmmanuelMacron à la presse.”

Jan. 3, 2018, 8:48 AM. Tweet.

^[3] Walt, Stephen M. “The Collapse of the Liberal World Order.” Foreign Policy, Foreign Policy, 26 June 2016.

^[4] Grice, Andrew. “Fake News Handed Brexiteers the Referendum – and Now They Have No Idea What They’re Doing.” The Independent, Independent Digital News and Media, 18 Jan. 2017.

^[5] “Ex-French Economy Minister Macron Could Be ‘US Agent’ Lobbying Banks’ Interests.” Sputnik International, Sputnik, 4 Feb. 2017.

^[6] Reuters. “Emmanuel Macron’s Campaign Team Bans Russian News Outlets from Events.” The Guardian, Guardian News and Media, 27 Apr. 2017.

^[7] Clarke, Seán, and Josh Holder. “French Presidential Election May 2017 – Full Second Round Results and Analysis.” The Guardian, Guardian News and Media, 26 May 2017.

^[8] “Décision n° 2017-169 PDR Du 26 Avril 2017.” Conseil Constitutionnel, 26 Apr. 2017.

^[9] Chauvel, Jeanne, et al. “Political Trust and Transparency in multi-level governance: new findings from the French regions” ECPR General Conference – Oslo University, 8th Sept. 2017.

^[10] Su, Jean Baptiste. “France To Impose Restrictions On Facebook, Twitter In Fight Against Fake News During Elections.” Forbes, Forbes Magazine, 9 Jan. 2018.

^[11] 24, France. “Rapid Response Will Be Central to New French Anti-Fake News Law.” France 24, 5 Feb. 2018.

^[12] Marcé, Carine. “Baromètre 2017 De La Confiance Des Français Dans Les Media.” Kantar, Kantar Group, 2 Feb. 2017.