Public discourse in the age of deepfakes

In recent years, as India stands tall as the world’s largest democracy, a new battlefield has emerged—not on the streets but on the screens. What was once healthy political debate has morphed into digital warfare.  The migration of India’s political discourse to the digital realm marks one of the most profound transformations of our age. Social media platforms have become a new digital agora: vibrant, chaotic and indispensable spaces for public discourse and political mobilisation.

There is no doubt that the Internet and social media platforms have empowered millions, giving voice to the previously unheard and enabling direct interaction between the electorate and its leaders. Yet this double-edged sword presents a formidable challenge to India’s constitutional order. The very tools that foster participation can be weaponised to spread misinformation, amplify hatred and silence dissent, turning the public space into a battlefield for asymmetric information warfare. 

Today, social media platforms host networks of individuals and groups that employ a range of tactics: the systematic promotion of misinformation; targeted harassment of critics, particularly journalists and opposition leaders; and the amplification of communal and abusive content.

Thousands – sometimes lakhs – of fake accounts are deployed to manipulate online trends, creating an artificial sense of public opinion and degrading the quality of information available to citizens. Notably, in the Bennet & Coleman case, the Supreme Court of India recognised the ‘right to know’ as a facet of free speech.

Troll armies flood platforms with “noise” and disinformation, preventing citizens from accessing actual news. This is not random behaviour by individual users but a coordinated strategy to control the public narrative. The ultimate goal of IT cells is not merely to disseminate vast quantities of misinformation; it is to exhaust the opposition – and even neutral citizens – into silence. When a political party uses a troll army to target a journalist, these are not just “private individuals” arguing online; they constitute an organised entity suppressing a citizen’s voice.

Political IT cells have moved far beyond simple tweets, deploying hyper-realistic synthetic media. Meanwhile, the “three-hour takedown” rule under the Digital Media Ethics Code, 2021, under the Information Technology Act—requiring platforms to delete or disable content flagged by the Election Commission—has become ineffective when a video can reach 10 million views in 20 minutes via encrypted WhatsApp networks. The result is a chilling effect. People fall silent not because they fear the law, but because they fear online mobs.

As the Kaushal Kishor judgment affirmed, the State has a positive obligation to protect citizens’ free speech from private retaliation, yet robust mechanisms to ensure this online remain absent. 

At the heart of this crisis lies a conflict between each citizen’s fundamental right to free speech and the emergent threats posed by coordinated cyberbullying. As a nation, we are confronted by a series of urgent questions. First, where does the State’s responsibility begin for the actions of private individuals who claim to be political ‘supporters’? Second, how do we regulate harmful digital speech which constitutes intimidation and incitement without hampering legitimate political expression?

Here, judicial interference becomes essential. In Tehseen Poonawalla, the Supreme Court issued guidelines to curb physical mob lynching. A similar framework could be adapted to prevent digital lynching as well. 

We are also witnessing a two-tier justice system for online speech, where swift arrests were made in cases of citizens’ criticism, contrasted with silence when party functionaries engage in hate speech. Many journalists experienced this during the recent elections. This has become a constitutional problem that requires a delicate balancing act, compelling the State, the judiciary and society at large to reinterpret the legal jurisprudence for the digital age.

A digital code of conduct for political parties—mirroring the Model Code of Conduct (MCC) for offline campaigning—is now imperative. India also needs a legally binding agreement requiring candidates to pledge that their parties will not employ paid trolls or use deepfakes, with disqualification of candidates as the penalty for violation. 

(The writer is an assistant professor at the School of Law, CHRIST University, Bengaluru)

Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.