By Ashish Singh
In the aftermath of a brutal terrorist attack in Kashmir, a disturbing pattern emerged in the discourse within segments of Norwegian media. While the violence targeted innocent civilians, certain commentaries chose to focus disproportionately on the political ramifications in India, rather than on the human tragedy itself or the ideological motivations behind the attack. The very fact of terrorism, its perpetrators, and the transnational ecosystem that sustains such acts were conspicuously downplayed or omitted. This imbalance did not go unnoticed.
India’s Ambassador to Norway, Dr Acquino Vimal, responded to this narrative in a composed and dignified article published in Aftenposten, one of Norway’s highly circulated newspapers. In it, he voiced disappointment with the manner in which the coverage of the incident had unfolded in parts of the Norwegian media landscape. Though his article did not name specific publications, his concern was clear: when terrorism is relativised, and when the focus shifts from the victims to a perceived political reaction, it undermines the seriousness of the violence itself.
Dr Vimal’s intervention was an important step. But it also raises a broader and more urgent question: how should diplomats respond when mainstream media narratives begin to obscure or deflect from the gravity of terrorism? Can civility alone counterbalance narratives that, intentionally or otherwise, blur the line between victim and aggressor?
The core concern is not about freedom of the press, which remains fundamental, but about the responsibility that comes with that freedom. In some commentary following the Kashmir attack, there appeared to be more concern for India’s domestic political response than for the victims of the violence. Speculation about political motives seemed to dominate over any analysis of the jihadist ideology that inspires such attacks, or the regional infrastructure that sustains them. If media institutions are to maintain credibility, their commitment to objectivity must include a moral clarity that distinguishes terrorism from the politics of its aftermath.
Ambassador Vimal, with his seasoned diplomatic sensibilities, rightly chose a tone of restraint. However, the growing complexity of public diplomacy today requires not just temperance, but also precision. When the line between critique and equivocation becomes thin, it is vital to ask whether subtle imbalances in reporting are doing justice to the gravity of the issue.
Norway, like many European democracies, prides itself on open dialogue and freedom of expression. It is precisely in such societies that clarity and fairness in media reporting are most essential. Norway also hosts diverse immigrant communities, including a sizeable population from Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Somalia, as well as a smaller but highly integrated Indian diaspora. The framing of global events in Norwegian media affects not only international perception but also the lived realities of these communities within Norway.
The Indian diaspora — deeply embedded in Norway’s education, technology, and business sectors — often finds itself caught between conflicting global narratives. When terrorism in India is interpreted primarily through the lens of domestic politics, without adequate attention to the perpetrators or their transnational networks, it risks distorting public understanding. This is not just about India’s global image, but also about the safety and dignity of those who carry Indian identity abroad.
In such a context, Dr Vimal’s response was not only appropriate but necessary. His article upheld the decorum expected of a diplomat, but it also reflected an increasing need for more assertive public engagement. While he stopped short of naming specific outlets, his message pointed to a larger issue: a growing tolerance for moral ambiguity in the name of neutrality.
This phenomenon is not unique to Norway. Across the Western world, certain media platforms have struggled to navigate the moral landscape of reporting on terrorism, especially when it occurs in the Global South. In trying to maintain “balance,” they sometimes underplay the nature of violence and overplay the reactions of states defending themselves. The result is a distorted moral equivalence — one that equates state responses to terrorism with the acts of terrorism themselves.
It is time for India to recognise that in an era of hybrid warfare and narrative battles, media representations are no longer peripheral — they are central. Diplomatic engagement must now include confronting such misrepresentations, not with indignation, but with facts, context, and clarity.
Demanding accountability in media coverage of terrorism is not an act of aggression. It is a defence of truth. It is not about suppressing criticism of government policies; rather, it is about ensuring that basic moral distinctions are upheld. To question why the ideological and logistical roots of terrorism are left unexamined is not an attack on journalism — it is a call for its revival.
Dr Vimal’s intervention may serve as a quiet turning point. It shows that diplomacy can — and must — speak not only in the language of treaties and communiqués, but also in the vernacular of public ethics. His article, published in Aftenposten, reflects both restraint and principle. Yet, as misinformation and selective framing increasingly shape global perceptions, India’s diplomats may need to go further — naming biases where they appear, and standing firm when facts are twisted.
Norway remains a country where open dialogue is possible. That makes it all the more important that conversations — particularly about terrorism — are grounded in moral clarity and not blurred by misplaced balance. Let us not confuse soft language with soft power. In moments of crisis, it is not eloquence but truth that serves as the best diplomacy.
In defending the victims of terror, silence is not always golden. Sometimes, the most powerful statement is one that speaks not only with courtesy — but with courage.
(Ashish Singh is a social and political scientist.)
