More than guns: Why narratives matter in fight against modern terror

While analysing the chaos in Pahalgam and the frenzy that followed, most media experts refrained from stereotyping individuals or communities based on nationality, religion, or ethnicity. Instead, they should have explored the mindset and methods commonly seen among terrorist groups globally and how incidents like Pahalgam fit into a larger pattern.

Terrorism is rarely random. Every act carries an intent — to unleash fear, provoke overreaction, deepen social divides, and push specific narratives. The modern terrorist is not a wild-eyed fanatic but a trained foot soldier or mercenary executing a political ideology mired in violence – not merely vengeance.

This calculated approach was chillingly evident in the 2008 Mumbai attacks, orchestrated by the Pakistan-based Lashkar-e-Taiba. Over four days, heavily armed gunmen held India’s financial capital hostage, killing 175 people and injuring over 300. What set the attack apart was not just its scale but its deliberate choreography — symbolic targets like luxury hotels, a Jewish centre, a busy railway station, and random civilians on the streets — meant to show India’s vulnerability.

Kenichi Ohmae may have authored The Mind of the Strategist, but understanding the mind of a terrorist demands deeper inquiry into ideological, emotional, and political motives. In Pakistan, many recruits are radicalised through a blend of religious indoctrination and perceived geopolitical grievances. They are systematically brainwashed to dehumanise the enemy— often Westerners or minorities — within broader jihadist frameworks. Many see themselves as martyrs in a holy war.

Yet beneath the fanatical façade lies strategy. Terrorist groups weaponise identity-based violence to fracture societies along sectarian fault lines. Attacks that involve separating victims based on religion—asking for names or demanding proof of faith— are not impulsive. They are scripted acts designed for psychological and political impact. The 2000 Chittisinghpura massacre, in which 35 Sikhs were killed, and the recent Pahalgam incident are examples of civilians being turned into symbolic targets. The aim is to provoke outrage, retaliation, and ultimately further radicalisation.

One particularly cruel tactic is sparing a survivor—often a spouse— to “tell the story”. This is crude propaganda. It helps extend the narrative reach, fuelling public dismay and further social division.

Identity-based victim selection in Pahalgam points towards several classic hallmarks of a terrorist act:

Symbolic targeting: Was the site or timing chosen for religious, political, or historical resonance?

Victim selection: Were individuals chosen or spared based on identity– religion, ethnicity, or nationality?

Narrative framing: Was there an intention to have survivors recount the attack, increasing its media reach?

Signature tactics: Did the methods resemble known modus operandi of specific terrorist groups — e.g., ISIS-style executions, LeT-style urban warfare, or al-Shabaab-style sieges?

If the answer to any of these is yes,the intent goes beyond killing — it is to send a chilling message.

Globally, such tactics transcend borders and religion. ISIS, for instance, executed 21 Egyptian Coptic Christians on a Libyan beach in 2015. That same year, al-Shabaab gunmen attacked Garissa University in Kenya, identifying and killing Christian students while sparing Muslims. Boko Haram in Nigeria has abducted Christian schoolgirls and targeted churches in its pursuit of a caliphate. In India, church attacks by fringe Hindutva elements have also been reported in recent years.

These are not rogue actions but carefully planned acts. Terrorists understand media logic. They exploit visual horror and survivor testimony to globalise fear.

India has long been in the crosshairs of cross-border terrorism. What is evolving now is a hybrid model — blending guerrilla warfare with digital propaganda. Terrorists may livestream attacks, post manifestos online, or use deepfakes to obscure identity and shift blame. False-flag operations, where one group impersonates another to stoke communal tensions, add another layer of complexity. The Chittisinghpura massacre, some allege, may have been such a case, possibly intended to derail India-Pakistan peace talks during then-US President Bill Clinton’s visit.

This is where intelligence, forensic evidence, and narrative control become essential. Media coverage can either amplify a terrorist’s message or contain it. Sensationalism plays into the attacker’s hands; matured reporting, debates and editorial restraint can mitigate panic. Civil society also plays a role: promoting interfaith solidarity, rejecting communal interpretations, and refusing to reduce victims to symbols.

Whether in Paris, Nairobi, Mumbai, or Pahalgam, terrorism aims to fracture societies. The bullets kill a few; the fear it breeds immobilises millions. The question we must ask is not “Who did it?” but “What were they trying to make us believe?” Understanding the tactics helps us inoculate against the intended psychological impact. It prepares us to defend against bombs and bullets and to guard against the corrosive erosion of trust and unity that terrorists seek.

To defeat terrorism, we need more than security cover: narrative warriors, truth tacticians, and societal antibodies. When fear dictates headlines and hate drives clicks, we’re no longer fighting terror; we’re feeding it. As an Army veteran puts it, “If terror is theatre, then panic is applause. Don’t clap.”

(The writer is a startup investor and co-founder of the non-profit Medici Institute for Innovation)

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