Euromaidan Press has been impersonated as part of a Russian disinformation campaign. A copycat website was created, with a hyphen added to our name, which published a fabricated article alleging a Ukrainian drone had killed civilians in Kramatorsk that cites anonymous "Ukrainian OSINT channels" amid copies of our real news reports. In reality, that 8 October strike was a Russian aerial bombing of two public buses that killed 33 civilians.

The fabrication is part of a years-long Russian disinformation campaign to impersonate and clone trusted news brands, predominantly in Europe, and publish false reports under their names. The disinformation research project Gnida tied our case to Storm-1516, one of several overlapping Russian operations, alongside the older Doppelganger, and NewsGuard, which reached out to us while preparing its own debunk, attributes the fake to the same operation. The fabricated Kramatorsk report comes amid an ongoing effort to erode Western support for Ukraine, as Russia's war goes on, and to sow distrust among Western political elites.

The claim and the actual 8 October attack

The fake started circulating on 24 October, one day after the forged publication appeared on our website. It started making rounds on X together with a forged video with a version of our logo claiming that "newly obtained footage" featured the remains of a Liutyi drone that "independent OSINT channels" claimed were "quickly removed from the scene." No specific OSINT channels were named; no sources were linked.

The forged video, apparently produced with AI, and the link were spread by X accounts such as @vick55top, @indiaTales7, @TheWorld_Update, @Wonder_star21, @Theunk5555, @SilentBriefHQ1, and @Suriyakmaps, where it was subsequently removed. The videos on those accounts averaged 400,000 to 500,000 views, far more than the accounts' modest follower counts and their usual engagement would produce, a likely sign of inauthentic amplification.

On 25 October, the Russian disinformation monitor Gnida Project flagged this as a case of the Storm-1516 disinformation campaign. Other recent cases flagged by Gnida included advertisements of Russian Geran drones, claims of the Shamonda virus being leaked from a "Ukrainian biolab," smears against US Democratic candidates, and a fake on a similar copycat "toronto-sun.ca" website alleging that President Zelenskyy purchased a nuclear bunker in Nova Scotia.

As for the actual content of the fake, the real event is one of the most thoroughly documented atrocities of the month. On 8 October 2026, Russian forces struck two public buses in Kramatorsk with an aerial bomb, killing 33 people and wounding about 18. Such attacks are, sadly, a daily occurrence in cities on the frontline. There was no Ukrainian drone and no removed wreckage. The fabrication simply reassigns a Russian mass killing of civilians to its victim, which is the entire point.

The fake site was not a single page. It scraped our entire website, mirroring our genuine articles, and injected the fabricated one among them, so the lie traveled under the credibility of real reporting. The look-alike domain was registered on 15 October, eight days before the fake appeared, according to who.is data.

Storm-1516

Gnida Project identified the fake as part of Storm-1516, a Russian influence operation that clones trusted news brands to spread fabricated stories, and NewsGuard, which contacted us about the impersonation, attributes it to the same operation. NewsGuard has documented the tactic generating some 900 false reports over three years; the same operation has targeted France and Germany and has recently impersonated other outlets, including in Ukraine, such as this fake report on a copycat website pretending to be the New Voice of Ukraine.

Storm-1516 is one of several overlapping Russian operations that impersonate real media. Since 2022, the Doppelganger network has cloned whole Western outlets and government sites, and it is still active, flooding France with more than 200 fake sites before its 2026 elections. Polish fact-checkers literally call the tactic “attack of the clones.” A second operation, Matryoshka, floods social media with cheap fake videos credited to real outlets. Storm-1516, first identified in late 2023 and later named by Microsoft, grew out of Russia's Prigozhin-era troll operations, is the most elaborate of the three, and has overtaken RT and Sputnik as Russia's main disinformation machine. Its attacks combine cloned websites and fake videos.

NewsGuard counts some 906 fabricated reports impersonating 163 outlets from 21 countries since 2023, Euronews, the BBC, Deutsche Welle, and France 24 most of all, as well as the Kyiv Independent. The fakes nearly all bend one way, to erode Western support for Ukraine. Some smear Ukraine's leaders, a fabricated story that 20,000 Ukrainian soldiers evacuated to France had deserted into criminal gangs, invented claims that first lady Olena Zelenska fled abroad. Others, like the one aimed at us, flip Russian actions onto Ukraine. A separate Storm-1516 fabrication, a false claim that Ukrainian officials bought yachts with misappropriated US aid, was repeated in 2023 by JD Vance, then a US senator.

We filed a copyright and abuse complaint with the host, Namecheap, and a phishing report with Cloudflare, and pressed the registrar. The complaints worked: the clone has been taken down.

How to take down a cloned news site

Impersonation is cheap to set up, and any outlet can be next, so here is the procedure our technical team used, which other newsrooms can follow to take a clone down quickly.

1. Cut the scraping pipeline. Run a DNS lookup (ping, nslookup, or dnschecker.org) on the cloned domain to expose the hosting IP behind any basic masking, then add a custom block rule in your Cloudflare WAF (Security, WAF, Custom Rules) targeting that IP, which cuts off the scraping scripts in real time. Watch the WAF logs over the next 48 hours in case the attackers rotate to new scraping proxies.
2. Unmask the infrastructure and send formal notices. Run an IP WHOIS lookup (ipinfo.io) to identify the host, for example Namecheap or DigitalOcean, and the registrar, then submit DMCA takedown and phishing notices to the host's legal portal or abuse address. Include side-by-side URL comparisons of the original and cloned pages, clear documentation of the brand spoofing and the injected disinformation, and a good-faith legal statement with full contact details.
3. Block access and de-index from search. Report the clone to Google Safe Browsing under social engineering and impersonation, which, once verified in 24 to 48 hours, makes Chrome, Firefox, and Safari show a full-page red warning to anyone who tries to open it. Then file a Google Search Console DMCA removal request to pull the cloned URLs out of search results.
4. Escalate to the registrar. Submit a registrar abuse complaint demanding a full suspension of the domain, a ClientHold status, on the grounds of bad-faith typosquatting and identity theft, and push your open abuse ticket IDs through your Cloudflare account to skip the standard queue.

Be sure to read the automated replies from the host and Cloudflare and answer them promptly. Those acknowledgments often ask for specific additional information, and a fast, complete reply keeps the ticket moving instead of stalling in a queue.

How to spot Russian Storm-1516 attacks

Many users on X called out the signs: a look-alike domain (our only website is euromaidanpress.com, with no hyphen), a claim sourced to unnamed "OSINT channels," and a story that reassigns a Russian attack to Ukraine.

We never publish an image or video without crediting its source, and we never cite anonymous OSINT experts: our reporting traces to a first source. Trust only reports that name the first source of a claim and label the origin of their images and video. If you cannot trace the source, you cannot trust the report.

Sergei Kiriyenko, first deputy chief of staff of the Russian Presidential Administration, set the goals for the Ukraine strand of the operation, launched in early 2023 under the codename "Uganda." Alexander Kharichev, now head of the Kremlin's Directorate for Monitoring and Analysis of Social Processes, oversaw it, according to hacked correspondence published by The Insider on 21 October.

Doppelgänger disguises Russian narratives as local news through cloned media sites, fake accounts, paid ads, and fabricated videos. The FBI named Kiriyenko among its orchestrators in 2024, and its contractor, the Social Design Agency (SDA), run by Ilya Gambashidze, is still expanding, now targeting AI chatbots. The new files go inside the Ukraine campaign and show the operation reporting even exposed fakes to the Kremlin as achievements.

Telegram channels posing as Ukrainian

An internal briefing on narratives says the project ran its Telegram channels on the principles of agent work and psychological operations, the Russian version of the investigation shows. Early on, the team decided to disguise all its outlets as Ukrainian and to run its campaigns without direct Russian propaganda. Every channel carried Ukrainian news to look unconnected to Russia. Dropping pro-Ukrainian themes, the briefing warned, would eventually expose the client and wreck the whole plan.

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Four goals and a can of stew

Kiriyenko set four goals: discredit Ukraine's military and political leadership, split its elites, demoralize its army, and disorganize its population. The SDA prepared the project's pitch and carried out the work.

Political strategist Alexander Asafov proposed fakes of his own: in May 2023, that soldiers were bribing commanders to avoid the front, and in January 2024, that Ukraine was pulling air defenses back to Kyiv to protect the authorities.

After an Il-76 military transport crashed in Belgorod Oblast on 24 January 2024, Moscow claimed it had been carrying Ukrainian prisoners of war. Kharichev's subordinate Yevgeny Kazakov, chairing a meeting in his place, proposed sending a fake to the widows of Ukrainian soldiers: "They died for an expensive Il-76—the Russians have few of those." The idea was dropped.

The same meeting produced another fake, and three days later the team launched it: that recruitment centers had sent widows a can of stewed meat with a little flag as compensation. The same producers also oversaw letters falsely attributed to Deputy Defense Minister Nataliia Kalmykova, the Russian version says.

Debunks filed as results

The SDA collected coverage of its work in a folder for the Kremlin. It filed the "Zelensky's yacht" story, which JD Vance, then a US senator and now US Vice President, echoed, together with its debunk. The report also included a TikTok campaign about former Defense Minister Oleksii Reznikov's family that the BBC had already exposed.

The Insider concludes that the team has had more failures than successes. The US sanctioned Gambashidze and the SDA in March 2024, and the UK followed in October.

Ask a chatbot why something happened in the war, and the answer may be written by Russia. Russia is poisoning AI chatbots with millions of fake articles so they repeat Kremlin narratives as fact, a cognitive weapon with strategic impact, Ukraine’s Unmanned Systems Forces commander Robert “Madiar” Brovdi warns on Telegram.

Russia has waged a cognitive war against Ukraine for years, and it intensified sharply with the full-scale invasion. This war goes beyond fake news and disinformation: it aims to shape the deeply ingrained beliefs that drive people’s attitudes, decisions and behavior, and its newest weapon is artificial intelligence.

Brovdi calls it a cognitive operation with strategic impact, one his forces studied among the technological risks of 2027. People increasingly ask a chatbot “why did X happen?” and take the instant answer, he explains, without asking where it comes from.

“Artificial intelligence does not know the truth. It retells the internet, literally,” Brovdi claims.

How the strategy works, step by step

Brovdi lays out a chain that turns a single lie into something a machine will repeat as fact:

1. The enemy invents a lie. For example, that Ukrainian soldiers did something terrible, when nothing of the sort happened.
2. It is copied across thousands of sites. The same fabrication is published again and again, in many languages, until it looks like everyone is reporting it.
3. It fakes a crowd of independent sources. The sites cross-link to one another, but ten sites copying one lie are not ten independent confirmations.
4. A person asks the AI. They type “why did Ukrainian soldiers do X?”, though X may never have happened, so the lie is already smuggled into the question as fact.
5. The AI may repeat the lie. If the system ingests unreliable material and checks facts poorly, it echoes the fabrication in a calm, confident tone.
6. The person trusts it. “The AI said so,” they think, so the answer feels objective, and they believe it, retell it, or share it online.
7. The lie shapes decisions and trust. People start to distrust the army, the state, or one another, and even an unproven fabrication has already changed how they feel.

The machines already repeat the lie

The attack runs on volume. Russia floods the web through the “Pravda” network, close to 200 sites in dozens of languages posting 4 to 6 million near-identical articles a year, Brovdi claims, written for machines, not people.

It works, by his account. Of the ten most popular chatbots studied, about a third of the time they reproduce Russian fakes, he noted, and four of ten in a 2024 test affirmed that Azov fighters had burned an effigy of Trump, a fabrication, and cited sources for it.

A war Ukraine admits it is losing

Brovdi is blunt about the balance. Ukraine is losing this fight to Russia’s troll farms, he concedes, even as a layer of homegrown trolls has sprung up too.

His closing advice was aimed at readers.

“Critical thinking should not be delegated. Not even to the smartest machine. Switch on your own judgment and always check the source and the information,” Brovdi states.

Ukraine and NATO have unveiled two artificial intelligence (AI) tools in Vilnius, Lithuania, Ukraine’s Defense Ministry reported on 13 October. One forecasts Russian drone attacks near the front and is ready to join the Armed Forces’ situational awareness systems. The other helps plan artillery fire and is still in testing.

A forecast of where, when, and which drones will fly targets the main source of losses near the front. In March, Ukraine’s military put the share of front-line casualties caused by FPV drones at up to 80%. In May, Ukraine’s drone forces commander Robert Brovdi said Russia was copying Ukraine’s model to grow its drone forces. A month earlier, Presidential Office head Kyrylo Budanov wrote that adding more drones no longer fundamentally changes the battlefield. The next stage, he said, is full integration of AI.

Forecasting Russian drone attacks

The NATO-Ukraine Joint Analysis, Training and Education Center (JATEC) presented both at a three-day seminar in the Lithuanian capital. NATO’s Allied Command Transformation and Ukraine’s Armed Forces built the tools with JATEC’s support.

“The solution has already been validated using real-world datasets. It has been refined and is ready for integration into the Armed Forces of Ukraine's situational awareness systems,” the ministry said.

Model No. 13 works from past data, weather, and the current battlefield situation. The ministry said it can identify the intensity of attacks, the areas, the time windows, and the types of drones with a high probability.

Ranking artillery options

Model No. 32 is a decision-support module. It tests whether artillery plans can be generated automatically. It weighs the mission’s requirements and current operational data, including available weapons, ammunition, firing positions, and constraints.

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First, it applies logistics, ballistics, and impact-zone parameters to throw out unworkable options. Then it scores and ranks the rest. That means less hand-based comparison, faster decisions, and a more efficient fire loop, the ministry said. The prototype is now with the Ukrainian military for trials. If the trials succeed and it is validated, it could be expanded to other units that strike Russian forces.

The claim that strikes on Russian tech giant Yandex thinned out social media bots finds no support in the networks tracked by Ukrainian disinformation-monitoring company LetsData, co-founder Ksenia Iliuk told Euromaidan Press on 13 October. She cautioned that the strikes may still have affected networks outside the company’s view.

At the Warsaw Security Forum, Lithuania’s prime minister suggested allies should ask Ukraine to strike more Russian data centers because that might help protect European elections from foreign interference. Bot networks are one tool of that interference, so whether the strikes mute them carries weight well beyond Ukraine.

No drop in the networks LetsData tracks

Drones hit Yandex data centers in Sasovo and Vladimir between 8 and 11 October. Ukrainian drone maker Fire Point said its FP-1 drones struck Yandex’s Kaluga site in between. On 12 October, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy told the Warsaw Security Forum that once Ukraine’s response reached Yandex, social media had fewer bots.

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More than 500 drones by Moscow’s count: Kh-101 fuel plant, second Yandex data center, and a far-north refinery hit

LetsData checked X and Facebook, where bot networks usually stand out clearly, Iliuk said. Its analysts looked at networks attributed to Russia’s influence ecosystem. Among them are groups of X accounts spreading domains from what she called a new wave of Doppelgänger, a Russian campaign that clones real news sites.

Those networks look unaffected, Iliuk said. None of them has stopped posting or broken its usual rhythm, she added. Some are slightly less active, but LetsData’s analysts say that is typical for them. The networks run on a weekly cycle, and the check fell in the part of the week when they post less.

A network that jumped from Germany to Ukraine

LetsData worked with two samples. One covers accounts that systematically target Ukraine, Moldova, and Armenia. The other covers bot networks the company has followed for some time that keep changing their target audience, so they have no fixed country.

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Ukrainian drones hit three of Russian tech giant Yandex’s data centers in four days. Ukraine’s president says the bots thinned out too

About two weeks ago, one network from that second sample wrote about elections in Germany and spread fake Die Welt sites, she said. It now posts about mobilization in Ukraine and shares a fake site of Ukrinform, Ukraine’s state news agency.

What the check can’t see

The company can compare only within networks whose usual behavior it knows, Iliuk said. Checking the whole internet is impossible because the scale is colossal, she said. A Cloudflare chart that circulated as evidence counted automated web requests from Yandex’s network, including its search crawlers, not social media posts, Cybernews reported.

So the networks LetsData follows show no impact, Iliuk said. That does not mean the strikes had no effect at all, she noted. They may have shown up in networks the company isn’t tracking now. LetsData will keep watching and report other signals if they appear.

UK Prime Minister Andy Burnham said Russia interfered in the 2016 referendum that took Britain out of the European Union, in podcast excerpts released on 11 October, the Associated Press reported. His remarks are believed to be the first time a British prime minister has publicly acknowledged such meddling.

Russia’s information war keeps running through Europe’s ballots. German security sources said in August that Moscow was escalating disinformation before state elections, and Ukraine’s Center for Countering Disinformation found more than 200 Russian fake news sites aimed at France last year.

One question, one clear answer

Burnham told The Rest Is Politics podcast that he asked his advisers whether Russia had interfered in the 2016 vote. He asked after taking office in July.

“I’ve had the clear answer that yes, there was,” he said.

He argued that such things must now be put clearly on the record. He did not say how Russia interfered or offer evidence, and Moscow has long denied interfering in foreign votes.

Burnham said he had discussed Russian interference with German Chancellor Friedrich Merz in Berlin the previous week. “You know he was saying to me that the AfD are clearly linked to Russia, funded I believe,” Burnham said, referring to Germany’s far-right Alternative for Germany party. Putting such interference on the record would help “voters in Germany and France understand that some of this politics is instigated via our enemies, namely Russia,” he added.

Years of silence

In 2020, Parliament’s Intelligence and Security Committee found that the government had actively avoided investigating whether Russia meddled in the referendum. The report noted open-source signs of Russian attempts to sway the Brexit campaign. The government, it said, had never looked for hard evidence.

The government rejected the committee’s call for a review.

“We have seen no evidence of successful interference in the EU Referendum,” it said.

That same year, London said Russian actors had almost certainly tried to interfere in the 2019 general election. The government said they did it by amplifying leaked UK-US trade documents online.

From 2019 to 2016

Three weeks ago, Burnham stopped short of this. At the UN General Assembly on 22 September, he said the Kremlin spends around £1.3 billion each year on manipulating information. That is roughly $1.7 billion at recent exchange rates. He cited evidence that Russian agencies tried to interfere in the 2019 general election, but he did not mention 2016.

In the same speech, he said Britain had already helped Moldova protect its elections from Russian interference.

Ukraine’s drone strikes on Russian tech giant Yandex thinned out social media bots, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy said on 12 October. Network data do show Yandex’s automated traffic collapsing after the strikes. Disinformation researchers say that traffic is search crawling, not trolls. A Ukrainian social media monitor told Euromaidan Press its own data show no clear drop in bot activity either.

Russian influence operations are a live threat to European votes. In August, the Matryoshka network fabricated news clips aimed at Sweden’s general election. German and French authorities flagged the same network targeting Germany’s local votes and French presidential hopeful Gabriel Attal. A way to switch such networks off would hand allies a new tool, which is why the claim needs testing.

The president’s claim

Addressing the Warsaw Security Forum by video link, Zelenskyy said that once Ukraine began answering Russia’s operation against Ukrainian data centers and its strikes reached Yandex, many social media platforms suddenly became a little easier to breathe on.

Many people noticed less hatred, discord, and provocation because there were fewer bots, he said. It was quite clear where those bots came from, he noted. Their disappearance once Yandex went down proves again that Europe is not the source of the problems, he added.

Lithuanian Prime Minister Mindaugas Sinkevičius said at the same forum that allies should ask Zelenskyy to strike more data centers in Russia, answering a question on how to protect their elections from interference.

Three data centers in four days

Drones first hit Yandex’s data center in Sasovo, Ryazan Oblast, on 8 October. Yandex said it shut the site down completely. The next day, a strike on its Kaluga site completely disabled several modules, the company said. Yandex calls Kaluga its largest data center, Russian science outlet T-Invariant noted.

Ukrainian drone maker Fire Point said its FP-1 long-range drones carried out that strike.

After the first strike, on Sasovo, a source at Yandex summed up the mood for The Bell: “Things are rotten. We keep working.”

Overnight on 11 October, drones hit the third site, in Vladimir. Yandex said it fully halted that data center too. Vladimir Oblast Governor Aleksandr Avdeev acknowledged an attack on “infrastructure” near the city. It started a fire and cut power to two substations serving 5,000 residents, he claimed.

What the traffic data show

Automated web requests from Yandex’s network fell to 0.4% of their two-week peak after the third strike, Cloudflare Radar data showed, Cybernews reported. That chart counts automated requests to websites, mostly from Yandex’s own search crawlers. It does not count social media posts.

The chart “has nothing to do with social media,” the Russian opposition analysis group Antibot4navalny wrote.

Russia’s overall bot traffic last week looked much like any other week. Yandex’s own figure began recovering on Sunday. Covert troll farms usually hide behind residential proxies, hacked devices, virtual private networks (VPNs), and Western cloud providers, the outlet added.

What Ukrainian social media shows so far

Yevhen Luzan tracks Ukrainian social media sentiment as an analyst at the Ukrainian nonprofit CAT-UA. Its daily reviews sample about 500 random posts. On 11 October, that sample showed an unusually small share of posts criticizing Ukraine’s authorities, he told Euromaidan Press. Accounts showing signs of bot activity made up only a few tenths of a percent of that criticism. That is within the margin of error.

The same day, though, US President Donald Trump’s deal for Russian diesel supplies dominated Ukrainian feeds. Luzan said a rally-around-the-flag effect could explain the shift, as outrage at Washington crowded out domestic stories.

“To state it definitively and draw a cause-and-effect link from this correlation would be too bold,” he said.

Across the wider pool of about 10,000 daily mentions, CAT-UA sees no significant drop in posting activity in recent days. The curve shows only the usual rises and dips around the start and end of the week, Luzan said.

“For now, even a hypothetical drop in bot farm activity dissolves entirely in the natural fluctuations of the information space,” he said.

How a crawler chart became a bot story

The claim that Russian social media bots fell by half is unproven and built on a misread chart, disinformation analyst Joohn Choe concluded in a fact-check. It traces back to an 8 October post by security researcher Jeremiah Fowler. That post said Russian bot traffic had dropped to 49%. On 11 October, radio reporter Jamie Dupree spread it on X. Tom’s Hardware then ran it under a headline calling the crawler traffic “Russian disinformation bot traffic,” wording it has since changed.

Ukrainian military analyst Tatarigami claimed that Texas separatist accounts with identical “Veteran, Christian, Father, MAGA” bios had gone quiet. He said Quebec separatists and Polish anti-EU accounts went quiet alongside them.

Polish military analyst Jarosław Wolski claimed that AfD’s online support fell 56%, posting a chart without naming its source. Another X user said “Polish” bots had vanished.

Thomas Sankara had a signature look: a natty red beret, worn with military fatigues. A striking figure, Sankara was a military officer and the radical, anti-imperialist prime minister of the Republic of Upper Volta. His arrest in 1983 led to demonstrations, followed by a coup, after which Sankara was released and installed as president. By the following year Sankara had given the country he now led its new name — Burkina Faso. He fashioned a Burkinabè identity in his own anti-imperialist image, eschewing French for local languages, promoting economic self-reliance and national pride. 

In 1986, he famously took the then French president François Mitterrand to task in a fiery speech broadcast both in Burkina Faso and France. Sankara’s dashing uniform played an outsized role in how his words were interpreted. Here was Africa’s own Che Guevara. But by October 1987, Sankara was dead, killed during a military coup led by his former friend and ally Blaise Compaoré.

France, the old colonial power, backed Compaoré. Soon after the coup, French officials once again flocked to Ouagadougou, helping to prop up Compaoré for decades. 

This potted history is important to understanding the phenomenon of Ibrahim Traoré, Burkina Faso’s current president, an authoritarian head of state who in his charisma and self-presentation so deliberately echoes Sankara.

On September 30, thousands of Burkinabè gathered in Ouagadougou’s Place de la Révolution to hail Traoré on the fourth anniversary of the coup that brought him to power. As the second coming of Sankara, Traoré — whatever their entirely different political ideologies – is arguably the face of contemporary African anti-imperialism. It is a meticulously cultivated image that has almost nothing to do with Traoré’s actual record, or his achievements in Burkina Faso. 

Traoré is a pan-African leader for a digital age, an autocrat who has suspended his country’s constitution, dismantled its admittedly fledgling democratic institutions and been accused of crimes against humanity, but who has used artificial intelligence, particularly deepfakes, to bury that record beneath a highly effective cyber cult of personality.

How do Burkinabè reconcile the man with the persona? And is Traoré a triumph of the algorithm, the kind of politician increasingly familiar from Ouagadougou to Delhi, Berlin, Buenos Aires, and of course Washington, DC?

The man, the myth, the algorithm 

Ibrahim Traoré came to power in September 2022. In his own telling, while Sankara was installed as president, Traoré led the putsch himself. By January 2023, Burkina Faso terminated its military accord with France, giving French special forces one month to leave the country. In June this year, Burkina Faso ended all diplomatic relations with France. 

As Traoré turned away from France, he strengthened relations with Moscow. It’s in keeping with the pattern across the countries of the Sahel — Burkina Faso and its neighbours Mali and Niger — as the region’s colonial history with France has been swept clean by a broom held first by the mercenaries of the Wagner Group and latterly the Russian state itself, represented by the Africa Corps. 

But in April and May 2026, Africa Corps forces were dealt a humiliating defeat in northern Mali by a combination of Tuareg separatists and allegedly Al-Qaeda linked Islamists. The Malian defence minister was assassinated in a suicide bombing at his home near the capital Bamako. With Russia so involved militarily in the Sahel countries, Ukraine has admitted to assisting rebel forces. Both Mali and Niger have cut diplomatic ties with Kyiv. And Burkina Faso has described Kyiv as a destabilising force in the region, making the Sahel effectively a front in Russia’s war with Ukraine. As recently as September, Traoré named Ukraine as a part of Burkina Faso’s “map of enemies” for which, he added menacingly, “we need to prepare.”

Russia, as Coda Story has reported for years, has used everything from weapons sales to mercenaries to paying African influencers to both spread Russian narratives and hold Moscow up as the alternative to continuing to rely on exploitative economic relationships with the West, particularly erstwhile European colonialists.

Despite the extent of Russian attempts to influence the Sahel, it’s not Moscow that is signing the most consequential deals with the military juntas it helps prop up. It’s Beijing. And the deals being signed with China to mine the region’s extensive mineral wealth — the lithium, gold, copper, zinc, bauxite and uranium — have served as a reminder to the United States that it too should resume stalled relationships in the Sahel. Early in 2026, Burkina Faso signed a near $150 million healthcare deal with the U.S. in exchange, it appeared, for favourable access to minerals. Both Zambia and Zimbabwe backed away from similar deals, expressing concern about U.S. demands for data and minerals that amounted to an infringement of sovereignty. 

The deals with China and the United States are being negotiated alongside a drive to reduce reliance on foreign loans and grants and ramp up domestic production, particularly of gold. Traoré claims his economic policies emphasise nationalisation and self-reliance. His government has taken over major mining operations and increased state stakes in other industries. In early 2024, his administration suspended export permits for small-scale gold production to crack down on smuggling and keep mineral wealth inside the country. Last month, he inaugurated Burkina Faso’s first gold refinery. 

Some of this has had positive economic effects. The World Bank, in a June 2026 update, said the country had an estimated 5.3% growth in 2025, up from 4.8% in 2024, and its fiscal deficit narrowed from 5.8% of GDP to 1.8%. Inflation was also negative, 0.5%, compared to 4.2% in 2024. Reports by the World Bank and IMF have ascribed these growth to external factors such as the gold rally, climate-driven increase in agricultural outputs, and reduction in energy prices. 

Economic growth, though, is part of a larger story that includes a crackdown on the press, particularly critical coverage of alleged human rights violations. Human Rights Watch documented 1,840 civilian deaths between January 2023 and April 2025, over 1,200 of which were directly attributed to government forces. Even as the report acknowledged widespread violations by Islamist groups, the actions of the Burkina Faso military, it said, “amounted to war crimes and crimes against humanity.” At the same time, Traoré has clamped down on Burkinabè civil society, banning over 100 human rights organizations and dissolving all political parties.

None of it appears to have affected his carefully-honed image in certain online spaces.

A pan-African hero 

Traoré is everywhere. In Accra, the capital of Ghana, his image is pasted onto buses and in parks. In January 2025, at the swearing-in of the Ghanaian president John Mahama, it was Traoré who the crowd responded to, cheering for a rockstar rather than a head of state. Even Mahama joked that Traoré had stolen the show. Artwork celebrating Traoré is frequently posted online. The commentary that accompanies the art is gushing. “Through this artwork,” reads one Facebook tribute, “I celebrate the spirit of a man who stands for sovereignty, truth, and the rise of a self-determined Africa.”

Meanwhile, the Ivory Coast government has granted refugee status to at least 69,000 Burkinabè fleeing Burkina Faso.

In May, when I travelled to Ghana and Ivory Coast to talk to people displaced from Burkina Faso, at least five sources decided they no longer wanted to speak. Guaranteeing anonymity didn’t seem to matter. A Burkinabè journalist who was helping me find people to speak to, stopped responding to my messages the day after I arrived in Accra. Those who did speak to me refused to be quoted for fear that harm would come to family and friends left behind in Burkina Faso.

Reporters have been intimidated into silence. “Today, any journalist living in the country is forced to practice self-censorship to avoid being arrested,” says Harouna Simbo Drabo, disinformation analyst and Director of Programs & Partnerships of Faso Check. “Burkinabé journalists have two options,” he told me, “either practice self-censorship or go into exile.” After threats to his life, Drabo has left Burkina Faso.

He’s one of the luckier journalists. Since 2022, at least seven Burkinabè reporters have been forcibly conscripted into the army after criticizing the Traoré junta's crackdown on the press. Guezouma Sanogo, Boukari Ouoba, and Luc Pagbelguem were abducted days after their union denounced state media as "instruments of propaganda." Atiana Serge Oulon, editor-in-chief of L'Événement, is among the disappeared. Many, like Drabo, have either left Burkina Faso or quit their jobs. 

As conditions deteriorate, what information is becoming available is government propaganda amplified by social media linked to Russian misinformation. In the absence of accurate, verified information, there is inevitably only disinformation. For instance, one of the most persistent pieces of disinformation is the story that Traoré — a supposedly avowed anti-imperialist despite his kowtowing to Moscow, Beijing and Washington — rejected billions of dollars in International Monetary Fund handouts because he believes, à la Thomas Sankara, in economic self-reliance. It is a story that has been debunked but was repeatedly told to me by Traoré supporters, including at least one journalist.

The claim was cited more than 700 times in a single three-day window in January 2025 alone, racking up millions of views across Facebook, X, and TikTok. Dubawa fact-checked the story and found that rather than rejecting money from the IMF, the Burkina Faso government had negotiated a 48-month IMF loan program in September 2023 and drew on World Bank financing in 2024. 

By mid-2025. Code for Africa's analysis found social media in sub-Saharan Africa flooded with AI-generated videos casting Traoré alongside Beyoncé, Rihanna, and, in one particularly unhinged iteration, Pope Leo XIV, all of whom supposedly endorsed him as a Pan-African hero holding the line against the West. After US AFRICOM commander Michael Langley criticized Traoré's handling of Burkina Faso’s gold reserves in a Senate hearing, a network of 165 Facebook accounts began posting identical language claiming Putin had deployed special forces to protect Traoré from an American assasination plot. In ten days it pulled 10.9 million views. 

In Accra, I caught a bus with a picture of Traoré emblazoned on the side. The driver, who only identified himself as Kofi, insisted that before we spoke I should tell him what I thought of Traoré. I say I am not Burkinabè, that I have not visited Burkina Faso but that I have spoken to many people whose lives have been upended by Traoré’s strongman politics. I told him about Burkinabè journalists in exile, forced to join the army, or even disappeared. I told him that when asked about a transition to democracy, Traoré said it was important for Burkinabè to “forget” about democracy. “We have to tell the truth,” Traoré said, “democracy isn’t for us.” I told him about the Burkinabè refugees I met in Treichville, a district in Abidjan, the Ivory Coast capital.

Kofi listened and then told me that “good things take sacrifice,” including the death of a free press. When I asked what he meant by good things, he showed me AI-generated videos of a smart city Traoré had supposedly built.

African identity is tightly wound around the belief that the continent has more potential than it has achieved. The deficit can be attributed to a lot of issues, but chiefly to Western exploitation and the complicity of African leaders. “African countries have also fallen into autocratic democracy,” Sanusi Sanusi, Research Analyst at the Digital Tech, AI & Information Disorder Analysis Centre, DAIDAC, tells me. “There is an election every couple of years but it isn't free or fair.”

Neil Postman, in Amusing Ourselves to Death, writes that “disinformation does not mean false information. It means misleading information — misplaced, irrelevant, fragmented or superficial information — information that creates the illusion of knowing something but which in fact leads one away from knowing.”

Many Traoré supporters I spoke with, most of whom were men, were convinced they knew things I did not. They told me to educate myself more on Western hypocrisy in Africa. They said they did not have faith in those who appointed themselves arbiters of what was fact and what was disinformation. In Lagos I met Lemi Ghariokwu, who designed album covers for the iconic Nigerian musician Fela Kuti, a revolutionary figure. Ghariokwu, who has a portrait of Ibrahim Traoré hanging in his studio, told me that “Western education and propaganda has made our elite class toothless bulldogs.” Listening to them, it seemed as if a successful Africa needed strongmen, needed autocrats.

In Abidjan, the last person I spoke to about Traoré was Oumar, a Burkinabè taxi driver who had moved to the Ivorian capital in 2021. He told me he “supports Traoré with all my heart.” But as we talked, he admitted he had not been back home because “things are only getting worse.” Three Burkinabè refugees I spoke to told me they thought I might be a government agent planted among them to find out what they really thought about Traoré and that I would then report those thoughts back to Ouagadougou.

Many of the Traoré supporters I spoke with thought I was brainwashed by Western media or, worse, too docile to participate in an African revolution. For my part, I thought they were ill-informed and unable or, worse, unwilling to see through propaganda.

The fundamental curse of the age of information and connection is that we rarely confront how the mediums meant to unite us have fractured us. An unprecedented flood of data has shattered shared reality into millions of customized, mutually hostile subcultures.

With the help of AI and social media, Traoré has managed to decouple national and anti-imperial pride from government performance. By the middle of next year, Burkina Faso will no longer be part of the International Criminal Court, denounced by Traoré as an “instrument of neocolonial oppression”, and thus no longer accountable in any international forum. His government has said it is “decolonizing” the school curriculum. Cheered on by social media, Traoré has used anti-imperial grievances and resentments to argue that authoritarian military rule is the only safeguard for sovereignty.

As some Burkinabè exiles told me ironically, they thought both I, so sceptical of Traoré, and the Traoré die-hards in the African diaspora could use a few months living in Burkina Faso. We should, they said, experience the country Traoré has made IRL. See past the carefully curated myth of the man himself, the largely online fantasy of the pan-African, anti-imperial revolutionary who needs to break a few eggs to make the omelet, and assess the country he runs unchallenged.

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The post The cyber-fueled cult of Ibrahim Traoré appeared first on Coda Story.

Russia is preparing to make daily life in Kyiv harder before winter, aiming at the ordinary places civilians use rather than at military sites, The Economist reported. Ukrainian officials say the push blends bombing, sabotage, and disinformation, and expect it to peak in November.

Every winter of its full-scale invasion, Russia has tried to freeze Ukrainians into surrender, and each year the strikes reach deeper into ordinary life. The civilian casualties recorded in 2026 have already passed the whole of last year, the UN says.

From the power grid to the grocery store

Russia has already turned its drones on Kyiv's supermarkets, food warehouses, and data centers this year. On 28 September, a Russian jet drone struck the National Academy of Sciences in central Kyiv. The strike killed two people, the Academy said. Survivors climbed from the windows of the burning building. A senior Ukrainian official told The Economist the Kremlin now wants shoppers too afraid to enter a store. Russia is also keeping its winter routine, hitting electricity, water, and sewage systems.

Cheaper jet drones that stream live to their pilots

Most of the damage now comes from Russia's cheap jet drones, The Economist said. Pilots guide them onto targets and watch a live video feed. They are hard to stop, and Russia's ballistic missiles are deadlier still as Ukraine's supply of Patriot interceptors dwindles. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy said Kyiv had agreed a new Patriot interceptor package, but it remains short of interceptors of its own. A security official told The Economist that Russia has thousands of drones stockpiled and plans to use its entire ballistic missile stock within two months.

Explore further

War is costing Ukraine $155 billion per year. With Western aid running late, Kyiv is freezing everything but army, pensions, and public wages

Sabotage, chaos, and a city that won't switch off

Ukraine's counter-intelligence services say they foil seven or eight Russian plots a week, and officials believe some sleeper cells remain. The campaign's third element, disinformation, targets war fatigue and corruption scandals. Russia runs the same plan every year, hoping its bot farms will push Ukrainians onto the streets to demand surrender, said Andrii Kovalenko, who heads the Center for Countering Disinformation at the National Security and Defense Council.

"It's nonsense," he told The Economist, adding that someone is feeding the idea to Putin so they can steal more money.

Kyiv is also far harder to shut down than Moscow assumes, Kovalenko said. The city's internet is too decentralized for a handful of strikes to knock out, The Economist noted. Energy expert Olha Babii said the test is how fast crews restore power, not whether it can be destroyed. The capital is emptying, its population down from about 3.7 million to 3.3 million by The Economist's count.

Russian intelligence services have sharply stepped up building websites and social media pages that impersonate Ukrainian state bodies and media, the Security Service of Ukraine (SBU) warned. Moscow uses the fakes to spread disinformation and to steal personal data it can turn into spy recruitment. The SBU says it has already blocked dozens of clones of its own brand.

Counterfeit pages built for propaganda and data theft

The fake sources serve Russian psychological operations and disinformation campaigns, the SBU said on 28 September. Their aim is to destabilize the situation inside Ukraine and damage its position abroad. Russian intelligence also uses them to extract Ukrainians' personal data, the agency said.

Alongside its full-scale invasion, Russia wages war on Ukraine in the cyber domain and through espionage and sabotage. Every agent Russia recruits inside Ukraine can help steer missiles and drones onto targets, and the SBU keeps catching such recruits.

Hacked accounts become recruitment leads

Russians often hack the accounts of users who subscribe to the fake pages and messenger channels, the SBU found. They then use the stolen information for recruitment operations and to collect confidential data.

Moscow is most interested in the combat and operational work of Ukraine's defense and security forces, the agency said. The SBU's cybersecurity department found and blocked more than 50 resources that copied the agency's own branding and positioning.

The fake pages are not Russia's only digital tool. Earlier in September, Anthropic said it had caught Russian spies running a campaign against Kyiv on its Claude AI chatbot.

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Poland and the Baltics risk Russian sabotage for backing Ukraine, Bloomberg says

How Ukrainians can protect themselves

The SBU urged citizens not to follow suspicious links and to rely only on official sources. Anyone who sees a dubious web address, or gets a message from someone posing as an SBU officer, should call the 1516 hotline, the agency said.

What Russia's recruits are sent to do

The SBU's own reports from the past week show what Russia's recruits are tasked with. A mobilized soldier allegedly recruited by the FSB, Russia's Federal Security Service, tried to direct a Russian missile strike on his own unit in Kharkiv Oblast, the SBU said. His repair battalion restores Ukrainian drones.

A Lviv Oblast resident who worked at a drone production site in western Ukraine was allegedly recruited to guide a missile strike on it, the agency reported. The strike was meant to disrupt the steady supply of strike and reconnaissance drones to Ukrainian troops, the SBU said.

A court also sentenced a 17-year-old agent of Russia's military intelligence (GRU), exposed in November 2024, to 10 years in prison, the SBU announced. She tracked Ukrainian air defenses in Chernihiv Oblast under the cover of taxi rides. She talked to her GRU handler through an anonymous messenger chat.

Ce billet reprend le mot d’ouverture prononcé dans le cadre du marathon d’écriture « Wikipédia – 25 ans, fière et engagée », organisé à l’Université du Québec à Montréal le 26 mars, à l’occasion du Printemps de la recherche et de la création en collaboration avec Wikimédia Canada et l’Institut de recherches et d’études féministes. Cet événement, porté aussi par le collectif Les sans pagEs – Montréal, dans lequel je suis impliquée, visait à soutenir la création et l’amélioration d’articles consacrés à des femmes chercheuses, militantes, ainsi qu’à des personnes issues de communautés encore trop peu visibles en ligne.

-> À noter que le support de présentation utilisé lors de cette intervention est disponible à la fin du billet.

Je suis très heureuse d’être avec vous aujourd’hui pour ouvrir ce marathon d’écriture Wikipédia. Je me présente brièvement : je suis Marie D. Martel, professeure à l’EBSI, à l’Université de Montréal, et impliquée dans le groupe Les sans pagEs Montréal, un collectif engagé dans l’amélioration de la représentation des personnes s’identifiant comme femmes et marginalisées sur Wikipédia. Merci pour cette invitation, merci à Simon Côté-Lapointe, bibliothécaire à l’UQAM, pour la qualité de son engagement et de l’organisation.

Fondée en 2001, Wikipédia célèbre ses 25 ans cette année. En un quart de siècle, elle est devenue une infrastructure majeure du savoir, avec plus de 60 millions d’articles, dont plus de 2,5 millions en français, dans plus de 300 langues, et des centaines de millions de consultations chaque mois. Mais il faut insister sur un point fondamental : Wikipédia ne fait pas que diffuser le savoir, elle contribue aussi à définir ce qui est visible, reconnu et documenté. Une personne sans page Wikipédia est beaucoup moins visible, moins citée, moins reconnue ; à l’inverse, le simple fait d’y être présent contribue à sa reconnaissance dans l’espace public.

Lorsque l’on regarde les données, le constat est clair. Environ 19 % des biographies dans les projets Wikimédia concernent les personnes identifiées comme femmes, et à peine plus de 20 % sur Wikipédia en français. Les autres identités de genre restent presque invisibles, autour de 0,15 %. Du côté de Wikidata, la base de données qui structure ces contenus, on observe également des écarts : environ 24% de femmes pour le Canada, contre 33 % à l’échelle globale. Ce sont des chiffres qui ne traduisent pas seulement un manque : ils révèlent un déséquilibre structurel dans la manière dont le savoir est produit et rendu visible.

Ce déséquilibre s’explique en grande partie par la composition de la communauté contributrice. Les enquêtes de la Wikimedia Foundation montrent que celle-ci reste encore largement masculine, historiquement entre 80 et 90 % de personnes identifiées comme hommes y contribuent. Cela a des effets directs : moins d’articles sur les personnes identifiées comme femmes, certains sujets moins développés, et plus largement, il y a une reproduction des hiérarchies existantes dans les sources. 

Quand on dit qu’il y a une « reproduction des hiérarchies existantes dans les sources », on veut dire que Wikipédia dépend fortement de sources déjà reconnues — comme les articles dans les médias, les articles et les ouvrages académiques ou les institutions. Or, ces sources ne sont pas neutres. Historiquement, elles ont davantage documenté : les hommes, les figures institutionnelles, les trajectoires dominantes Et beaucoup moins : les femmes, les personnes autochtones, les actrices communautaires ou certaines figures locales.

Or,  Wikipédia s’appuie sur ces sources pour l’écritute des articles… et donc, ce faisant, elle reproduit les mêmes déséquilibres. Autrement dit, Wikipédia ne fait pas que refléter le monde, elle contribue aussi à perpétuer et structurer certaines inégalités dans la production et la circulation du savoir.

Dans le cas du Québec, la situation se complexifie encore. Les contributeurs de Wikipédia en français sont majoritairement européens, et notamment français. La présence canadienne y est relativement faible : on l’estime autour de 7 %, avec environ 300 personnes contributives actives canadiennes contre près de 4000 françaises. Mais on ne dispose pas de données précises permettant d’identifier la part de la contribution québécoise, ni celle des contributrices. 

Cette absence de données est en soi révélatrice : elle rend difficile la mesure des inégalités tout en contribuant à invisibiliser des dynamiques territoriales, sociales et culturelles bien réelles. 

À cela s’ajoute une reconnaissance moindre de certaines sources québécoises dans les protocoles d’évaluation, notamment lorsque le statut de médias comme Le Devoir ou La Presse comme sources nationales est questionné. Alors, les effets sont cumulatifs : invisibilisation des personnes identifiées comme femmes, invisibilisation des figures québécoises, et sous-documentation de nombreuses trajectoires locales. Nous sommes donc face, à tout le moins, à un double biais, à la fois de genre et géographique.

C’est dans ce contexte que s’inscrit le projet Les sans pagEs qui vise à combler le fossé des genres sur Wikipédia, notamment à travers des éditathons comme celui d’aujourd’hui, et aussi par la formation et l’accompagnement à l’écriture. Mais il ne s’agit pas seulement de produire des articles : il s’agit aussi de créer des communautés, de rendre la contribution plus accessible et de valoriser d’autres trajectoires et d’autres savoirs. 

Il existe plusieurs autres initiatives : Art + féminisme, WikiGap, le projet Women in Red, le marathon d’aujourd’hui. Ce sont des initiatives très fortes, mais elles ont leurs limites : elles reposent largement sur le bénévolat, elles restent ponctuelles et elles ne transforment pas automatiquement les structures qui produisent les inégalités.

C’est ici qu’intervient la notion de féminisme des données. Il ne s’agit pas seulement d’ajouter des femmes dans les données, mais de transformer les conditions mêmes de production du savoir. Les travaux de Catherine D’Ignazio et Lauren Klein montrent que les données ne sont jamais neutres : elles sont produites dans des contextes sociaux et reflètent des rapports de pouvoir. Cela implique de se demander qui décide des critères, quelles sources sont reconnues, qu’est-ce qui rend visible — ou invisibilise — certains savoirs. L’enjeu n’est donc pas seulement de combler un manque, mais de transformer le système qui le produit.

Aujourd’hui, en participant à ce marathon, vous pouvez faire encore bien plus qu’écrire des articles. On peut aussi s’exercer à développer une conscience critique et envisager d’autres niveaux d’action dans une perspective de féminisme des données.

À un second niveau, nous chercherons, en outre, à analyser les biais et à rendre plus visibles les inégalités. Comment ? En mesurant les écarts, en identifiant les absences, en repérant les déséquilibres dans les contenus ou les catégories. Il s’agit également de montrer comment les systèmes de classification participent eux-mêmes à l’invisibilisation de certaines figures, afin de mieux comprendre ces mécanismes. C’est dans cette perspective que Simon Villeneuve et moi avons travaillé à quantifier le fossé des genres dans les ressources biographiques, en particulier canadiennes, en incluant notamment les projets Wikimédia.

Cette étape est cruciale, car elle permet de situer précisément les problèmes, d’en objectiver les manifestations afin de mieux les déjouer et d’orienter des pistes d’amélioration. Toutefois, elle ne suffit pas entièrement.

À un autre niveau, il devient nécessaire de chercher à transformer le système lui-même. Cela implique d’agir sur les sources, de questionner les critères de notoriété, d’accompagner activement de nouvelles contributrices, de mobiliser différents acteurs du réseau documentaire dans une forme convergence par rapport à ces enjeux, en plus d’améliorer la structuration des données afin de rendre certains contenus plus visibles. À titre d’exemple, j’ai créé il y a quelques années la catégorie « bibliothécaire québécoise », précisément pour mettre en évidence un angle mort dans la structuration des savoirs. Ce type d’intervention, à la fois modeste et stratégique, participe d’un travail plus large de reconfiguration des infrastructures informationnelles.

Et dans le contexte québécois, par exemple, cela peut vouloir dire constater le manque de biographies de personnes s’identifiant comme femmes ou issues des diversités sexuelles et de genre, mais aussi agir concrètement sur les sources : documenter ces figures dans des publications reconnues (articles scientifiques, presse nationale et régionale), soutenir la production de contenus éditoriaux (catalogues d’exposition, ouvrages collectifs), mobiliser des archives existantes souvent peu visibles, améliorer leur repérabilité (indexation, métadonnées, numérisation) et leur admissibilité selon les standards de Wikipédia. Cela implique également de traduire ou adapter certaines sources pour les rendre davantage mobilisables, de diversifier les corpus de référence en intégrant des savoirs situés ou communautaires, et de renforcer les liens entre institutions (bibliothèques, centres d’archives, milieux culturels) afin de consolider l’écosystème documentaire. Autrement dit, il s’agit d’intervenir à la fois sur la production, la reconnaissance, la structuration et la circulation des sources afin de rendre ces figures plus admissibles et visibles dans l’encyclopédie.

C’est ce que l’on entend lorsque l’on affirme qu’il ne s’agit pas seulement de combler des absences, mais de comprendre — et d’agir sur — les mécanismes qui les produisent. Le chemin est plus exigeant, mais il permet d’avoir un impact plus profond et ouvre la voie à une véritable forme de justice sociale.

Lila Shroff s’inquiète. A raison. ChatGPT Images 2.0 qui vient de sortir permet de créer des visuels photoréalistes nettement plus convaincants que ceux produits par ses prédécesseurs. Elle l’a utilisé pour créer une image de Trump en train de donner des conseils de maquillage comme une capture d’écran de TikTok. Amusant. « Mais les deepfakes les plus réalistes que j’ai pu créer n’impliquaient ni politiciens ni célébrités. La plupart ne représentaient même pas de personnes. Sans trop d’efforts, j’ai pu créer plus de 100 images falsifiées, notamment des ordonnances d’opioïdes et de médicaments contre le TDAH, des alertes bancaires, des publications sur les réseaux sociaux, de fausses images de cartes d’identité et de passeports », de faux documents financiers (factures, reçus et déclarations fiscales), fausses captures d’écran (pour falsifier une confirmation de virement bancaire), fausses notes de frais, fausse capture d’écran d’un site de presse… Les modèles d’images ont longtemps peiné à produire des images intégrant du texte. Ce n’est plus du tout le cas avec cette version ci. Bien sûr, en y regardant de plus près, tous ces faux ne sont pas encore parfaits. Dans son dernier rapport annuel sur la cybercriminalité, le FBI a inclus une section sur les escroqueries à l’IA, qui auraient coûté près d’un milliard de dollars aux Américains l’an dernier. 

Fake, ça accélère

« En théorie, je n’aurais pas dû être capable de créer la plupart de ces images. OpenAI interdit l’utilisation de sa technologie à des fins de fraude ou d’escroquerie » … mais souhaite laisser une liberté créative totale à ses utilisateurs. De la à permettre de reproduire des logos de banque ou des documents officiels… Même constats chez Google dont les IA permettent également de générer ce genre de faux. Les entreprises d’IA se défendent en estimant que les images générées le sont avec des filigranes comme SynthID ou des métadonnées, mais encore faut-il que les gens aient des outils pour analyser les images qu’ils voient. « Malgré la fragmentation de notre écosystème médiatique, une simple recherche Google suffit généralement à vérifier si ces images sont fausses. Ce sont les deepfakes ciblés et omniprésents – ceux qui escroquent vos proches plutôt que de simplement perturber les réseaux sociaux – qui sont peut-être les plus inquiétants. » Et pour lesquels les mesures de protection s’annoncent encore très perfectibles.

Pour le New York Times, Stuart Thompson a testé les détecteurs d’IA. Plus d’une douzaine d’outils en ligne affirment pouvoir faire la différence entre le vrai et le faux en recherchant des filigranes cachés, des erreurs de composition et d’autres indices numériques. « Les résultats suggèrent que ces détecteurs peuvent aider à confirmer les soupçons concernant les contenus générés par l’IA, mais il est difficile de s’y fier pour établir un diagnostic définitif. » Thompson réalise plusieurs tests ne produisant pas toujours des résultats adaptés auprès d’une galerie d’outils comme Hive Detect, Resemble.ai, AI or Not, Reality Defender, Copyleaks, BrandWell, Sensity, Sightengine et les grands outils d’IA qui ont tous intégré ces fonctions, de Gemini à Claude, ChatGPT ou SuperGrok.

Le NYTimes a fait passer des tests à tout ces outils. « Nombre d’entre eux ont pu détecter les contrefaçons les plus simples ». Parfois, certains outils ne parviennent même pas à détecter les images qu’ils ont eux-mêmes créé. Les propriétaires de ces outils estiment néanmoins que les mises à jour de ceux-ci seront plus efficaces qu’ils ne sont, sans parvenir à la perfection. La détection de vidéo est plus difficile que celle des images et les résultats de ces outils sont tous moins bons, mais semblent plus performants pour détecter les sons générés. Ils réussissent mieux à détecter comme réels des images et vidéos réels, par contre les images réelles modifiées demeurent les plus difficiles à détecter… tant pour les outils que pour les humains. 

Deepfakes : pourquoi ça marche ?

Dans sa newsletter, Rob Horning tente de comprendre pourquoi les images génératives rencontrent un tel succès. Par rapport aux images réelles, « les versions générées par l’IA sont souvent plus spectaculaires, plus cinématographiques et optimisées pour générer des clics sur les réseaux sociaux ». Toutes les images ne sont pas propagandistes, rappelle le philosophe, elles sont surtout « opportunistes ». Elles visent à produire du contenu. C’est une propagande pour l’information elle-même, qui soutient l’idée que « toute information peut et doit être vécue comme un divertissement ». « Elles encouragent plutôt une approche post-narrative où l’appréciation des mèmes ne dépend plus de la compréhension des enjeux globaux ni de la recherche de contexte ». « Les spectateurs sont pris en étau entre deux systèmes algorithmiques : l’un génère le contenu et l’autre nous le présente, notre attention étant captée pour les entraîner à converger.» 

Ces images et vidéos cherchent plus à être émotionnellement compréhensibles qu’à être authentiques. Le contenu ne fait que nourrir et renforcer notre soif de spectacle. « La confusion entre preuves et contenu dans les flux d’information a engendré une confusion entre les deux. Les éléments présentés comme des preuves deviennent un alibi pour le spectacle ; ils imitent la vérifiabilité tout en nous incitant à nier tout besoin de vérification. » Mais, s’inquiète Horning, « ces contenus renforcent également l’idée qu’il est plus amusant d’être dupé que d’être informé, et que l’indifférence à la vérité procure des récompenses émotionnelles immédiates ». Ils nous disent autre chose encore de notre monde, souligne-t-il. Ces contenus de piètre qualité alimentent l’idée que tout devrait être visible, surtout dans un monde aussi saturé de surveillance que le nôtre. A l’heure où tout est accessible, nous avons l’impression que tout est désormais visible, comme quand le journalisme lui-même utilise la reconstitution fictive pour nous montrer ce qui n’a pas été enregistré. Il existe de fausses images sur tout ce qui peut susciter des réactions. Et ces images et vidéos permettent de montrer ce qu’il se passe réellement, sans que ce soit réel. « Ces vidéos ne fournissent pas d’informations factuelles, mais une idéologie, nous épargnant ainsi l’effort de la réflexion. » 

Si ces fausses images prolifèrent, c’est parce qu’elles offrent des illustrations claires de problèmes perçus comme réels, explique la chercheuse Claire Wilmot sur son blog pour la London Review of Books, qui montre que les deepfakes racistes offrent à ceux qui les utilisent la confirmation de leurs diagnostics. Les gens qui les partagent savent très bien que ces images sont fausses, mais elles permettent de montrer ce que ces gens pensent qu’il se passe réellement. « Ces vidéos répondent au désir du public de voir ses croyances se manifester sous forme de preuves et de consommer ce qu’il croit déjà comme si cela était irréfutablement établi par des événements réels. Elles nous offrent des explications simplistes, nous dispensant ainsi de tout effort de réflexion ou de toute responsabilité. Ces types de vidéos et d’images nous permettent de vivre ces croyances comme un contenu sans avoir à y croire « réellement ». Elles apparaissent simplement sous nos yeux pour nous rassurer. Ces contenus s’auto-valident pour leur public car ils présentent une idée qu’il tient déjà pour acquise. »  

« Le flux constant de ces contenus normalise l’idée que l’information sera immédiatement remaniée pour nous satisfaire, et que nous pouvons compter sur nos flux d’actualités pour moduler nos émotions et nous apporter une forme de clarté, voire de soulagement. » Les fausses images permettent finalement de neutraliser le flux des images réelles qui sont peu commodes à comprendre. Elles apaisent l’anxiété de l’actualité en permettant de mieux la maîtriser, de la rendre plus lisible qu’elle n’est, plus conforme à ce qu’elle devrait être ou ce qu’on voudrait qu’elle soit. 

« Le caractère facilement rejetable de ces images obséquieuses fait partie de leur attrait ; il rend la tromperie apparente et contenue, grâce à l’incrédulité délibérément suspendue du spectateur. La désinformation nous flatte en nous laissant entrevoir la supercherie tout en savourant la vision du monde qu’elle propose. Elle offre un discours facile à suivre, qui procure un sentiment constant de réussite, de reconnaissance, d’obtention sans effort. Elle flatte comme un chatbot obséquieux. Son mal ne réside pas dans le fait de nous persuader de choses fausses, mais dans l’érosion du sens des responsabilités collectives face à l’information partagée. » C’est un peu comme si ces images permettaient d’enlever de l’actualité sa complexité. « C’est le message sous-jacent de tout contenu : nous devrions pouvoir voir ce que nous voulons croire sans avoir à investir d’efforts pour construire cette réalité. »

Horning pointe un autre effet de la désinformation partagée : celle de nous isoler finalement. « Au lieu de rechercher l’information en reconnaissant notre ignorance nous ingérons des quantités massives d’informations simulées et de propagande maladroite qui nous donne l’illusion d’être imbus de nous-mêmes. Si le devoir civique, en tant que raison de s’informer, s’est atrophié, la diffusion de désinformation vise à l’anéantir complètement. »

L’industrie médiatique a subordonné la vérité au spectacle, éliminant les points de vue marginalisés et les voix divergentes. Or, ce que nous voyons, entendons, lisons… ne devrait jamais suffire à dicter nos croyances, rappelle Horning. La « crise de la vérité » ne provient pas d’un nouveau pouvoir des médias de nous tromper, « mais de la conviction que la simple consommation de médias suffit à nous faire vivre dans le monde réel ». Or, « aucune image ne peut nous conférer un rapport privilégié à la vérité, une conscience automatique de la réalité objective, une empathie accrue ou un sens moral plus sûr. Aucun média ne peut nous affranchir de la médiation. S’engager avec les médias ne signifie pas « surveiller la situation » ; cela implique de participer à la guerre de la propagande, et non de se complaire dans la médiocrité ». 

Nous sommes de plus en plus soumis à une pure consommation d’information. Et en cela, les fausses images nous invitent à rester dans une pure consommation, en n’ayant plus qu’à circuler parmi elles, en naviguant parmi celles qui nous complaisent le mieux. Or, consommer l’information ne suffit pas, rappelle Horning. Les militants du Minnesota, face à l’ICE, ont montré l’importance à documenter ensemble, les pratiques de la milice, pas seulement en invitant les gens à regarder leurs vidéos, mais à les produire collectivement, en filmant la réalité des exactions de l’ICE sous tous les angles possibles, à témoigner. Une pratique qui devient plus forte à mesure que plus de gens y participent. Une pratique qui produit de la solidarité et qui participe à la production d’une réalité partagée. Tout l’inverse de la production politique traditionnelle qui amplifie de plus en plus les pires outrages, les pires dénis, les pires mensonges. Trump est assurément le pire menteur et affabulateur de tous les temps, et pourtant, il reste perçu comme plus honnête et plus authentique que ses adversaires, se désole la journaliste Zoe Williams dans The Guardian. Le risque est bien que les images génératives empruntent le même chemin : qu’elles semblent honnêtes et plus authentiques que la réalité. 

Hubert Guillaud

Cet édito a été originellement publié pour la lettre d’information Café IA du 13 mai 2026.

MAJ du 25/06/2026 : En janvier, dans la Technology Review, le journaliste James O’Donnell avait révélé que le Département américain de la Sécurité intérieure, qui gère les services d’immigration, utilisait des générateurs vidéo IA de Google et d’Adobe pour créer du contenu destiné au public. Si certains commentateurs n’étaient pas surpris (le président Trump lui-même étant coutumier du fait), de nombreux autres justifiaient la pratique en estimant qu’il fallait combattre la désinformation par de la désinformation. Au grand damne du journaliste qui, dans un autre article où il raconte les conséquences, constate que l’enjeu n’est plus la vérité. Et le journaliste de pointer vers un article de recherche de la revue Communications Psychology de Nature. Dans cette étude, les participants ont visionné une « confession » truquée et les chercheurs ont constaté que même lorsqu’on leur disait explicitement que la preuve était fausse, les participants s’y fiaient pour juger de la culpabilité d’un individu. « Autrement dit, même lorsque les gens apprennent que le contenu qu’ils consultent est entièrement faux, ils restent influencés émotionnellement par celui-ci ». Nous avons réagi à la crise de la vérité en nous préparant à un monde où le principal danger serait la confusion, conclu O’Donnell. « Or, nous entrons dans un monde où l’influence survit à la révélation, où le doute est facilement instrumentalisé et où établir la vérité ne permet pas de repartir à zéro. Et les défenseurs de la vérité sont déjà largement distancés. » Face à la submersion par le faux, même rétablir la vérité ne semble plus avoir d’effets. 

MAJ du 25/06/2026 : Il reste des éléments qui permettent encore de distinguer les images réelles des images générées, estime Hany Farid, pionnier de la criminalistique numérique, qui à la tête de l’entreprise GetReal Security, est l’un des plus grands experts mondiaux en matière de détection de manipulation de photos et de vidéos. Dans Science, il explique que les images génératives peinent à reproduire fidèlement les lois de la physique. Même constat pour Darren Linvill, codirecteur du Media Forensics Hub de l’université de Clemson : les images génératives sont plus saisissantes que la réalité. « En termes de contenu à partager et à regarder, une grande partie du contenu généré par l’IA surpasse la réalité », explique-t-il. Les explosions sont plus impressionnantes, le point de fuite des perspective n’est pas unique, les différences d’éclairages perceptibles… Farid cherche surtout les traces laissées par certains types de manipulation, notamment en analysant les pixels des images. « L’IA générative ignore tout de la physique et de la géométrie ». Pour vérifier les images, Hany Farid contrôle souvent si la géométrie de la scène est réaliste. Il a développé également un logiciel de lecture labiale automatique capable de repérer quand les mouvements de la bouche ne correspondent pas pas aux paroles… Mais reconnait-il, ces problèmes évoluent vite et les systèmes s’améliorant, la détection est de plus en plus difficile. « Le monde réel est incroyablement complexe à simuler, et les entreprises d’IA n’ont guère intérêt à pousser leurs modèles aussi loin. Après tout, leur objectif n’est pas de tromper les experts en criminalistique numérique comme Farid, mais simplement l’utilisateur lambda, un critère bien moins exigeant. « Le système visuel tolère toutes sortes d’absurdités sur les photos, car il n’y prête pas attention », explique-t-il. » Un de ses étudiants, Lyu, a développé deepfake-o-meter un système pour estimer la crédibilité des images. Mais un des principaux problèmes est que ces détecteurs fonctionnent mal avec des contenus très différents de leurs données d’entraînement. « Il n’existe pas de détecteur d’apprentissage automatique unique permettant aux utilisateurs de télécharger tous types de vidéos, photos, fichiers audio et d’obtenir une réponse fiable. » 

Bien sûr, même l’enquête la plus approfondie et la plus rigoureuse ne convaincra pas toujours les sceptiques. Farid l’a appris à ses dépens en 2009, lorsqu’il a analysé une photo de 1963 montrant Lee Harvey Oswald tenant le fusil qu’il utiliserait plus tard pour assassiner le président John F. Kennedy. Les théoriciens du complot – et Oswald lui-même – affirmaient depuis longtemps que la photo était truquée, pointant du doigt des détails inhabituels comme les ombres sur le visage d’Oswald. Mais l’analyse de Farid n’a rien révélé d’anormal. Cela ne l’a pas empêché d’être accusé d’être partie prenante dans la dissimulation de la vérité ! 

Farid a également participé du développement de PhotoDNA qui repère les contenus pédopornographiques en ligne (voir notre article sur la modération automatisée depuis le livre de Tarleton Gillespie de 2019, Custodians of the internet, Yale, 2018). Développé en 2009 en collaboration avec Microsoft, cet outil analyse les contenus mis en ligne sur Google, Facebook, Reddit et d’autres plateformes, en comparant les fichiers à une base de données de contenus pédopornographiques connus. Le Centre canadien de protection de l’enfance (C3P) utilise ce logiciel dans le cadre du Projet Arachnide qui explore activement l’internet à la recherche de correspondances. 

Mais Farid reconnaît qu’il est désormais submergé par le flot : au début de sa carrière, il recevait une ou deux demandes de vérification par mois, se souvient-il. Puis, chaque semaine. « Maintenant, c’est tous les jours. Sans blague, chaque matin, je me réveille avec une dizaine de courriels de journalistes du monde entier. » 

Il est possible que quelqu’un parvienne à créer un faux document indétectable, explique-t-il. Mais son objectif est de rendre la tâche si difficile qu’elle reste hors de portée de la grande majorité des personnes mal intentionnées. « Chaque fois que je quitte ma maison, je verrouille ma porte d’entrée », explique Farid. « Cela empêche 99,99 % des gens de s’introduire chez moi, mais pas un serrurier. » 

Lila Shroff s’inquiète. A raison. ChatGPT Images 2.0 qui vient de sortir permet de créer des visuels photoréalistes nettement plus convaincants que ceux produits par ses prédécesseurs. Elle l’a utilisé pour créer une image de Trump en train de donner des conseils de maquillage comme une capture d’écran de TikTok. Amusant. « Mais les deepfakes les plus réalistes que j’ai pu créer n’impliquaient ni politiciens ni célébrités. La plupart ne représentaient même pas de personnes. Sans trop d’efforts, j’ai pu créer plus de 100 images falsifiées, notamment des ordonnances d’opioïdes et de médicaments contre le TDAH, des alertes bancaires, des publications sur les réseaux sociaux, de fausses images de cartes d’identité et de passeports », de faux documents financiers (factures, reçus et déclarations fiscales), fausses captures d’écran (pour falsifier une confirmation de virement bancaire), fausses notes de frais, fausse capture d’écran d’un site de presse… Les modèles d’images ont longtemps peiné à produire des images intégrant du texte. Ce n’est plus du tout le cas avec cette version ci. Bien sûr, en y regardant de plus près, tous ces faux ne sont pas encore parfaits. Dans son dernier rapport annuel sur la cybercriminalité, le FBI a inclus une section sur les escroqueries à l’IA, qui auraient coûté près d’un milliard de dollars aux Américains l’an dernier. 

Fake, ça accélère

« En théorie, je n’aurais pas dû être capable de créer la plupart de ces images. OpenAI interdit l’utilisation de sa technologie à des fins de fraude ou d’escroquerie » … mais souhaite laisser une liberté créative totale à ses utilisateurs. De la à permettre de reproduire des logos de banque ou des documents officiels… Même constats chez Google dont les IA permettent également de générer ce genre de faux. Les entreprises d’IA se défendent en estimant que les images générées le sont avec des filigranes comme SynthID ou des métadonnées, mais encore faut-il que les gens aient des outils pour analyser les images qu’ils voient. « Malgré la fragmentation de notre écosystème médiatique, une simple recherche Google suffit généralement à vérifier si ces images sont fausses. Ce sont les deepfakes ciblés et omniprésents – ceux qui escroquent vos proches plutôt que de simplement perturber les réseaux sociaux – qui sont peut-être les plus inquiétants. » Et pour lesquels les mesures de protection s’annoncent encore très perfectibles.

Pour le New York Times, Stuart Thompson a testé les détecteurs d’IA. Plus d’une douzaine d’outils en ligne affirment pouvoir faire la différence entre le vrai et le faux en recherchant des filigranes cachés, des erreurs de composition et d’autres indices numériques. « Les résultats suggèrent que ces détecteurs peuvent aider à confirmer les soupçons concernant les contenus générés par l’IA, mais il est difficile de s’y fier pour établir un diagnostic définitif. » Thompson réalise plusieurs tests ne produisant pas toujours des résultats adaptés auprès d’une galerie d’outils comme Hive Detect, Resemble.ai, AI or Not, Reality Defender, Copyleaks, BrandWell, Sensity, Sightengine et les grands outils d’IA qui ont tous intégré ces fonctions, de Gemini à Claude, ChatGPT ou SuperGrok.

Le NYTimes a fait passer des tests à tout ces outils. « Nombre d’entre eux ont pu détecter les contrefaçons les plus simples ». Parfois, certains outils ne parviennent même pas à détecter les images qu’ils ont eux-mêmes créé. Les propriétaires de ces outils estiment néanmoins que les mises à jour de ceux-ci seront plus efficaces qu’ils ne sont, sans parvenir à la perfection. La détection de vidéo est plus difficile que celle des images et les résultats de ces outils sont tous moins bons, mais semblent plus performants pour détecter les sons générés. Ils réussissent mieux à détecter comme réels des images et vidéos réels, par contre les images réelles modifiées demeurent les plus difficiles à détecter… tant pour les outils que pour les humains. 

Deepfakes : pourquoi ça marche ?

Dans sa newsletter, Rob Horning tente de comprendre pourquoi les images génératives rencontrent un tel succès. Par rapport aux images réelles, « les versions générées par l’IA sont souvent plus spectaculaires, plus cinématographiques et optimisées pour générer des clics sur les réseaux sociaux ». Toutes les images ne sont pas propagandistes, rappelle le philosophe, elles sont surtout « opportunistes ». Elles visent à produire du contenu. C’est une propagande pour l’information elle-même, qui soutient l’idée que « toute information peut et doit être vécue comme un divertissement ». « Elles encouragent plutôt une approche post-narrative où l’appréciation des mèmes ne dépend plus de la compréhension des enjeux globaux ni de la recherche de contexte ». « Les spectateurs sont pris en étau entre deux systèmes algorithmiques : l’un génère le contenu et l’autre nous le présente, notre attention étant captée pour les entraîner à converger.» 

Ces images et vidéos cherchent plus à être émotionnellement compréhensibles qu’à être authentiques. Le contenu ne fait que nourrir et renforcer notre soif de spectacle. « La confusion entre preuves et contenu dans les flux d’information a engendré une confusion entre les deux. Les éléments présentés comme des preuves deviennent un alibi pour le spectacle ; ils imitent la vérifiabilité tout en nous incitant à nier tout besoin de vérification. » Mais, s’inquiète Horning, « ces contenus renforcent également l’idée qu’il est plus amusant d’être dupé que d’être informé, et que l’indifférence à la vérité procure des récompenses émotionnelles immédiates ». Ils nous disent autre chose encore de notre monde, souligne-t-il. Ces contenus de piètre qualité alimentent l’idée que tout devrait être visible, surtout dans un monde aussi saturé de surveillance que le nôtre. A l’heure où tout est accessible, nous avons l’impression que tout est désormais visible, comme quand le journalisme lui-même utilise la reconstitution fictive pour nous montrer ce qui n’a pas été enregistré. Il existe de fausses images sur tout ce qui peut susciter des réactions. Et ces images et vidéos permettent de montrer ce qu’il se passe réellement, sans que ce soit réel. « Ces vidéos ne fournissent pas d’informations factuelles, mais une idéologie, nous épargnant ainsi l’effort de la réflexion. » 

Si ces fausses images prolifèrent, c’est parce qu’elles offrent des illustrations claires de problèmes perçus comme réels, explique la chercheuse Claire Wilmot sur son blog pour la London Review of Books, qui montre que les deepfakes racistes offrent à ceux qui les utilisent la confirmation de leurs diagnostics. Les gens qui les partagent savent très bien que ces images sont fausses, mais elles permettent de montrer ce que ces gens pensent qu’il se passe réellement. « Ces vidéos répondent au désir du public de voir ses croyances se manifester sous forme de preuves et de consommer ce qu’il croit déjà comme si cela était irréfutablement établi par des événements réels. Elles nous offrent des explications simplistes, nous dispensant ainsi de tout effort de réflexion ou de toute responsabilité. Ces types de vidéos et d’images nous permettent de vivre ces croyances comme un contenu sans avoir à y croire « réellement ». Elles apparaissent simplement sous nos yeux pour nous rassurer. Ces contenus s’auto-valident pour leur public car ils présentent une idée qu’il tient déjà pour acquise. »  

« Le flux constant de ces contenus normalise l’idée que l’information sera immédiatement remaniée pour nous satisfaire, et que nous pouvons compter sur nos flux d’actualités pour moduler nos émotions et nous apporter une forme de clarté, voire de soulagement. » Les fausses images permettent finalement de neutraliser le flux des images réelles qui sont peu commodes à comprendre. Elles apaisent l’anxiété de l’actualité en permettant de mieux la maîtriser, de la rendre plus lisible qu’elle n’est, plus conforme à ce qu’elle devrait être ou ce qu’on voudrait qu’elle soit. 

« Le caractère facilement rejetable de ces images obséquieuses fait partie de leur attrait ; il rend la tromperie apparente et contenue, grâce à l’incrédulité délibérément suspendue du spectateur. La désinformation nous flatte en nous laissant entrevoir la supercherie tout en savourant la vision du monde qu’elle propose. Elle offre un discours facile à suivre, qui procure un sentiment constant de réussite, de reconnaissance, d’obtention sans effort. Elle flatte comme un chatbot obséquieux. Son mal ne réside pas dans le fait de nous persuader de choses fausses, mais dans l’érosion du sens des responsabilités collectives face à l’information partagée. » C’est un peu comme si ces images permettaient d’enlever de l’actualité sa complexité. « C’est le message sous-jacent de tout contenu : nous devrions pouvoir voir ce que nous voulons croire sans avoir à investir d’efforts pour construire cette réalité. »

Horning pointe un autre effet de la désinformation partagée : celle de nous isoler finalement. « Au lieu de rechercher l’information en reconnaissant notre ignorance nous ingérons des quantités massives d’informations simulées et de propagande maladroite qui nous donne l’illusion d’être imbus de nous-mêmes. Si le devoir civique, en tant que raison de s’informer, s’est atrophié, la diffusion de désinformation vise à l’anéantir complètement. »

L’industrie médiatique a subordonné la vérité au spectacle, éliminant les points de vue marginalisés et les voix divergentes. Or, ce que nous voyons, entendons, lisons… ne devrait jamais suffire à dicter nos croyances, rappelle Horning. La « crise de la vérité » ne provient pas d’un nouveau pouvoir des médias de nous tromper, « mais de la conviction que la simple consommation de médias suffit à nous faire vivre dans le monde réel ». Or, « aucune image ne peut nous conférer un rapport privilégié à la vérité, une conscience automatique de la réalité objective, une empathie accrue ou un sens moral plus sûr. Aucun média ne peut nous affranchir de la médiation. S’engager avec les médias ne signifie pas « surveiller la situation » ; cela implique de participer à la guerre de la propagande, et non de se complaire dans la médiocrité ». 

Nous sommes de plus en plus soumis à une pure consommation d’information. Et en cela, les fausses images nous invitent à rester dans une pure consommation, en n’ayant plus qu’à circuler parmi elles, en naviguant parmi celles qui nous complaisent le mieux. Or, consommer l’information ne suffit pas, rappelle Horning. Les militants du Minnesota, face à l’ICE, ont montré l’importance à documenter ensemble, les pratiques de la milice, pas seulement en invitant les gens à regarder leurs vidéos, mais à les produire collectivement, en filmant la réalité des exactions de l’ICE sous tous les angles possibles, à témoigner. Une pratique qui devient plus forte à mesure que plus de gens y participent. Une pratique qui produit de la solidarité et qui participe à la production d’une réalité partagée. Tout l’inverse de la production politique traditionnelle qui amplifie de plus en plus les pires outrages, les pires dénis, les pires mensonges. Trump est assurément le pire menteur et affabulateur de tous les temps, et pourtant, il reste perçu comme plus honnête et plus authentique que ses adversaires, se désole la journaliste Zoe Williams dans The Guardian. Le risque est bien que les images génératives empruntent le même chemin : qu’elles semblent honnêtes et plus authentiques que la réalité. 

Hubert Guillaud

Cet édito a été originellement publié pour la lettre d’information Café IA du 13 mai 2026.

MAJ du 25/06/2026 : En janvier, dans la Technology Review, le journaliste James O’Donnell avait révélé que le Département américain de la Sécurité intérieure, qui gère les services d’immigration, utilisait des générateurs vidéo IA de Google et d’Adobe pour créer du contenu destiné au public. Si certains commentateurs n’étaient pas surpris (le président Trump lui-même étant coutumier du fait), de nombreux autres justifiaient la pratique en estimant qu’il fallait combattre la désinformation par de la désinformation. Au grand damne du journaliste qui, dans un autre article où il raconte les conséquences, constate que l’enjeu n’est plus la vérité. Et le journaliste de pointer vers un article de recherche de la revue Communications Psychology de Nature. Dans cette étude, les participants ont visionné une « confession » truquée et les chercheurs ont constaté que même lorsqu’on leur disait explicitement que la preuve était fausse, les participants s’y fiaient pour juger de la culpabilité d’un individu. « Autrement dit, même lorsque les gens apprennent que le contenu qu’ils consultent est entièrement faux, ils restent influencés émotionnellement par celui-ci ». Nous avons réagi à la crise de la vérité en nous préparant à un monde où le principal danger serait la confusion, conclu O’Donnell. « Or, nous entrons dans un monde où l’influence survit à la révélation, où le doute est facilement instrumentalisé et où établir la vérité ne permet pas de repartir à zéro. Et les défenseurs de la vérité sont déjà largement distancés. » Face à la submersion par le faux, même rétablir la vérité ne semble plus avoir d’effets. 

MAJ du 25/06/2026 : Il reste des éléments qui permettent encore de distinguer les images réelles des images générées, estime Hany Farid, pionnier de la criminalistique numérique, qui à la tête de l’entreprise GetReal Security, est l’un des plus grands experts mondiaux en matière de détection de manipulation de photos et de vidéos. Dans Science, il explique que les images génératives peinent à reproduire fidèlement les lois de la physique. Même constat pour Darren Linvill, codirecteur du Media Forensics Hub de l’université de Clemson : les images génératives sont plus saisissantes que la réalité. « En termes de contenu à partager et à regarder, une grande partie du contenu généré par l’IA surpasse la réalité », explique-t-il. Les explosions sont plus impressionnantes, le point de fuite des perspective n’est pas unique, les différences d’éclairages perceptibles… Farid cherche surtout les traces laissées par certains types de manipulation, notamment en analysant les pixels des images. « L’IA générative ignore tout de la physique et de la géométrie ». Pour vérifier les images, Hany Farid contrôle souvent si la géométrie de la scène est réaliste. Il a développé également un logiciel de lecture labiale automatique capable de repérer quand les mouvements de la bouche ne correspondent pas pas aux paroles… Mais reconnait-il, ces problèmes évoluent vite et les systèmes s’améliorant, la détection est de plus en plus difficile. « Le monde réel est incroyablement complexe à simuler, et les entreprises d’IA n’ont guère intérêt à pousser leurs modèles aussi loin. Après tout, leur objectif n’est pas de tromper les experts en criminalistique numérique comme Farid, mais simplement l’utilisateur lambda, un critère bien moins exigeant. « Le système visuel tolère toutes sortes d’absurdités sur les photos, car il n’y prête pas attention », explique-t-il. » Un de ses étudiants, Lyu, a développé deepfake-o-meter un système pour estimer la crédibilité des images. Mais un des principaux problèmes est que ces détecteurs fonctionnent mal avec des contenus très différents de leurs données d’entraînement. « Il n’existe pas de détecteur d’apprentissage automatique unique permettant aux utilisateurs de télécharger tous types de vidéos, photos, fichiers audio et d’obtenir une réponse fiable. » 

Bien sûr, même l’enquête la plus approfondie et la plus rigoureuse ne convaincra pas toujours les sceptiques. Farid l’a appris à ses dépens en 2009, lorsqu’il a analysé une photo de 1963 montrant Lee Harvey Oswald tenant le fusil qu’il utiliserait plus tard pour assassiner le président John F. Kennedy. Les théoriciens du complot – et Oswald lui-même – affirmaient depuis longtemps que la photo était truquée, pointant du doigt des détails inhabituels comme les ombres sur le visage d’Oswald. Mais l’analyse de Farid n’a rien révélé d’anormal. Cela ne l’a pas empêché d’être accusé d’être partie prenante dans la dissimulation de la vérité ! 

Farid a également participé du développement de PhotoDNA qui repère les contenus pédopornographiques en ligne (voir notre article sur la modération automatisée depuis le livre de Tarleton Gillespie de 2019, Custodians of the internet, Yale, 2018). Développé en 2009 en collaboration avec Microsoft, cet outil analyse les contenus mis en ligne sur Google, Facebook, Reddit et d’autres plateformes, en comparant les fichiers à une base de données de contenus pédopornographiques connus. Le Centre canadien de protection de l’enfance (C3P) utilise ce logiciel dans le cadre du Projet Arachnide qui explore activement l’internet à la recherche de correspondances. 

Mais Farid reconnaît qu’il est désormais submergé par le flot : au début de sa carrière, il recevait une ou deux demandes de vérification par mois, se souvient-il. Puis, chaque semaine. « Maintenant, c’est tous les jours. Sans blague, chaque matin, je me réveille avec une dizaine de courriels de journalistes du monde entier. » 

Il est possible que quelqu’un parvienne à créer un faux document indétectable, explique-t-il. Mais son objectif est de rendre la tâche si difficile qu’elle reste hors de portée de la grande majorité des personnes mal intentionnées. « Chaque fois que je quitte ma maison, je verrouille ma porte d’entrée », explique Farid. « Cela empêche 99,99 % des gens de s’introduire chez moi, mais pas un serrurier. » 

On April 24, Brazil’s competition authority, the Administrative Council for Economic Defense (CADE) announced it was opening an investigation to assess whether Google’s use of news content amounted to unfair competition practices against the Brazilian press. The announcement was welcomed by civil society organizations that have tried to push regulation to limit the reckless power of Big Tech for years. Ajor, Brazil’s Digital News Association, said that “a balanced relationship between digital platforms and journalism organizations is fundamental to the flourishing of journalism committed to the public interest. By ensuring a fair competitive environment, Cade directly advances that goal.”

In spirit and intent, CADE’s investigation into Google is similar to legislation in Australia that recognized that value is being extracted from news publishers without proportionate recompense. In Brazil, the case has been debated since 2019, but the adoption of AI Overviews helped alter the perspective of Brazilian judges. The overviews are artificially generated summaries that synthesize information from several sources and appear at the top of Google Search results. They “raise potentially more concerns,” ruled Judge Camila Cabral Pires Alves, “as they may more profoundly alter the economic function of the interface and expand the ability to retain attention within the platform's own environment.”

CADE will now investigate whether Google should be sanctioned for “alleged abusive exploitation of a dominant position, in light of the technological evolution of the conduct.” While there is perhaps a greater global appetite to regulate the impacts of AI – even the Trump administration has recently acknowledged that some oversight may be necessary – the CADE judges have been under considerable pressure from Big Tech executives to stop investigations into how their control of the market harms Brazilian businesses. 

For those of us who have reported on Big Tech, this aggressive lobbying is not surprising. Companies like Google, Meta, Twitter, TikTok, Amazon, and Microsoft have long attempted to interfere in any decision or legislation that can harm their interests in Latin America. According to a joint investigation by journalists across 13 countries, Big Tech lobbyists got away with convincing legislators in Colombia to weaken a rule meant to protect children’s mental health and prevent enforcement of privacy regulations in Ecuador. It took a team of over 40 journalists from 13 countries to uncover this while reporting on the ‘Big Tech Lobby’ in the continent and across the world.   

Threats by the U.S. government to retaliate against any country or international entity that sought to regulate Big Tech added another layer to an already complicated and uneven relationship with Silicon Valley. “Digital Taxes, Digital Services Legislation, and Digital Markets Regulations are all designed to harm, or discriminate against, American Technology,” wrote Donald Trump on social media. “Show respect to America and our amazing Tech Companies or consider the consequences!” During the past year, Trump’s envoys have forced dozens of governments around the world to dilute or even shelve regulation in exchange for lifting tariffs. 

In “Big Tech’s Invisible Hands,” which I coordinated alongside Maria Teresa Ronderos, from CLIP (Centro Latinoamericano de Investigación Periodistica), journalists mapped a total of 75 executives that were part of “public policy” or “government relations” teams in Brazil. Tech companies utilized a “revolving door” in which public sector employees could go straight into highly paid jobs leveraging their contacts and influence. Doors opened more easily. Invitations to hangouts and events were more likely to be accepted. 

Lobbying in Brazil is dialed up to eleven. The country has 163 million internet users, with over 150 million on WhatsApp, and over 120 million on YouTube, Instagram and Facebook. With AI, Brazil is a similarly large, influential market. Portuguese is the sixth most widely-spoken language in the world, with 70% of speakers based in Brazil. Which means that, if an LLM has been trained in this language, it probably used content created by millions of Brazilians going about their business of making friends, debating politics and football online. It’s not just about journalists; we are all unpaid labor for Big Tech. 

In the words of Arthur Lira, the Speaker in Brazil’s Congress who filed a criminal complaint against Big Tech executives in 2023, companies adopted a variety of tactics “to shut down democratic debate and intimidate lawmakers” and defeat any attempt at using legislation to force accountability. Google, he said, used its search homepage, used by over 85% of Brazilians, to spread fear that proposed laws would “make the internet worse” or “make it harder to know what is true or false on the internet.” A report by the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro found that Google invested in ads on its own platform so extensively that it tweaked the search, prominently featuring the word “censorship” in connection to the Brazilian bill. Google also hired Michael Temer, a lawyer and former President of Brazil, to influence lawmakers and Supreme Court Justices. Of course, it was not Google alone. Meta executives, for instance, even argued that proposed legislation in Brazil could lead to the Bible being censored.

But Brazilian lawmakers, the Supreme Court, and civil society have persisted. On August 28, 2025, the “Felca Law” was approved, after a video by the influencer Felca denounced the exploitation and exposure of children on social media. The law establishes that digital platforms must take measures like verifying user age, implementing parental controls, and preventing children's exposure to adult content, gambling, and pornography. They must create reporting channels and may face fines of up to 10% of their annual revenue in Brazil.

Brazil’s president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva and Donald Trump have had a testy relationship, in part because of Lula’s criticism of Big Tech. In February, at the AI Impact Summit in New Delhi, Lula called for global governance of AI, warning: “When few control the algorithms, it is not innovation, but domination. Regulating the so-called Big Tech companies is linked to the imperative of safeguarding human rights in the digital sphere, promoting information integrity, and protecting our countries’ creative industries.”

By sticking to his guns, Lula may now be seeing the tide turn. He was in the White House on May 7, and though neither he nor Trump took questions, both appeared encouraged by the meeting. “Very dynamic,” was how Trump described Lula, while Lula said he was “very, very satisfied” with how the talks went. With a general election in Brazil approaching in October, Lula will be sensitive to how the White House, as it has done in other elections, and Big Tech might offer vocal support for right wing candidates.

But his willingness to stand up to Big Tech is popular with voters. A recent poll found that 78% of Brazilians want to see tech companies being held responsible for the content they publish. Another poll found that 55% of Brazilians defend regulating Big Tech, with 43.9% against it. 

And as scams, fake news, and AI slop dominate ever larger swathes of all our digital space, in Brazil, as in much of the rest of the world, the entire experience of the internet is becoming more unappealing. Big Tech, with the assistance of the U.S. government, may be succeeding in slowing down the pace of regulation and watering down the content of that regulation, but in the long run its victories might be pyrrhic. People have had enough and their governments might be forced to listen.

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A coup is underway in Mali, though it has not brought down the governing junta just yet. The country’s military leader, General Assimi Goïta has, after days in hiding, appeared in public to claim, unconvincingly, that the “situation is under control.” But rebel forces — an alliance of Al-Qaeda affiliates and Tuareg separatists — have taken over provincial cities and are calling for a blockade of the capital Bamako. Mali’s military junta hangs on by a thread, in a familiar regional story of violence, civilian suffering and international intrigue.

On April 25, coordinated attacks across Mali exposed the junta’s fragile hold over the country. Jamaat Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM), the al-Qaeda affiliate that has driven insurgency across the region for over a decade, joined forces for the first time with Tuareg separatist groups — who have been fighting the central government for even longer — to simultaneously strike cities hundreds of miles apart, including the capital Bamako, Gao, Kidal, Sévaré, and the garrison town of Kati. A suicide car bomber drove into the residence of defence minister General Sadio Camara, killing him along with his wife, two grandchildren, and several civilians. Camara was one of the most influential figures in Mali's ruling junta and had been widely seen as a possible future leader of the country. He was also the key architect of Mali's military alliance with Russia. Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger, which together form the Alliance of Sahel States (AES), have all in recent years realigned away from France, the former colonial power in the region, and towards Russia.

Russian mercenaries, in the form of the Wagner Group and more recently the Africa Corps, have backed military juntas in the Sahel, after coups in Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger led to the withdrawal of French troops from France’s former colonies. But during these latest rebel strikes, it was Russian fighters that were chased out of the northern city of Kidal to the sound of jeers. Africa Corps, the Kremlin-controlled paramilitary group, described the insurgent attacks as a "coup attempt" backed by "Western intelligence services." RT amplified these claims, accusing France and the West of orchestrating the violence, even as it claimed Russian fighters successfully repelled rebels. In 2024, Ukraine’s military agency said it had provided information to help Tuareg rebels ambush and rout a Wagner convoy, killing dozens of Russian mercenaries. Both Mali and Niger have cut diplomatic ties with Kyiv. Burkina Faso has described Kyiv as a destabilizing force in the region, making the Sahel effectively a front in Russia’s war with Ukraine. 

The Kremlin’s combination of misinformation and mercenaries helped exploit growing anti-Western sentiments in the Sahel to give Russia a propaganda win in the region. Former colonial powers such as France didn’t help themselves, as can be seen even now in Madagascar, the latest nation to expel a French diplomat and accuse Paris of fomenting unrest. But the success of Russian propaganda hasn’t been matched on the ground. As Mali struggles to contain a rebel alliance that has fresh impetus and energy, Moscow’s control is weakening and the effectiveness of its military support is under question. Already, with Russian weapons in short supply because of war with Ukraine, it is China that the Malian junta turns to for arms. China’s strategic efforts in the Sahel have been similar to its efforts in the rest of the African continent – a focus on securing infrastructure contracts as part of the Belt and Road Initiative and securing access to mineral resources. But rebel attacks in the Sahel are bad for Chinese business. In February, the Chinese embassy in Niamey, the capital of Niger, warned Chinese companies to take their workers out of the firing line as rebels increasingly targeted Chinese infrastructure projects, including a $4.5 billion oil pipeline from Niger to Benin.

In 2024, the United States was forced to leave neighboring Niger after a coup, to withdraw from a $100 million base. It seemed the U.S. was losing ground to both Russia and China in the Sahel. Earlier this year, though, as security concerns in the Sahel escalated sharply, the U.S. adjusted its approach, choosing to deal pragmatically with military juntas. By late February, the U.S. lifted sanctions on top Malian officials, including General Camara, the recently slain defence minister. It may see closer cooperation with Sahel countries as essential to its security interests and a way to undercut Chinese access to Sahelian resources.

The three Sahel states, Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger, have turned away from France and Europe and towards Russia, while increasingly flirting with the U.S. and reliant on Chinese weapons. The result has been disaster. All three Sahel states are ranked in the top 5 for countries impacted by terrorism. And the humanitarian toll has been severe. Millions of people face internal displacement across the region and cuts in aid programmes mean many millions, especially children, also face acute hunger. But, as the great powers circle the region, jockeying for geopolitical gain, the talk remains about the logistics of propping up failing juntas, providing military solutions to human crises, and maintaining power rather than confronting problems.

Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger – all led by military authorities that came to power in a coup – have also isolated themselves from the rest of their neighbors by withdrawing from the West African regional bloc, Ecowas. Meanwhile, they sell their model as an alternative to Western-style democracy, a narrative that Russian propaganda networks have been all too eager to promote. But the strength of the insurgency against Mali’s government, and Russia’s apparent inability to protect it, sends a different message to the rest of the African continent.

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On the night of January 16, 2024, Egana Djabbarova was awoken by her wife and told that she needed to leave the country immediately. Djabbarova, her wife said, had been denounced by pro-war activists and framed as an enemy of the country. She had recently published her novel, “My Dreadful Body,” with a small, indie press that had been praised by mainstream critics, unexpectedly propelling her into the public eye. One of the book's central themes is surveillance: growing up in a community with strict behavioural codes, the protagonist's every move is under scrutiny.

In a dark echo of her work, Djabbarova was now under online surveillance herself. “I was just the perfect enemy,” she tells me, “because I’m queer, I’m not Slavic, I worked on decolonial and feminist projects… So boom, it happened.”

She is speaking to me from Hamburg, where she now lives. Djabbarova is part of the so-called fifth wave of writers exiled from Russia, alongside Maria Stepanova, Lyudmila Ulitskaya, and Maxim Osipov to name a few. Her upbeat tone during our call gives little indication of the arduous journey she has endured since fleeing Russia. Upon receiving a humanitarian visa from Germany, she spent months in a refugee camp. She lived, she says, “in a container house, literally a shipping container. You feel like you're not a subject, not a human being.” 

More permanent accommodation has provided a degree of safety and stability, but a sense of precariousness lingers. She describes her position as an exile as “strange” — on the one hand she has been welcomed into Germany’s cultural elite in winning the Hamburger Literaturpreis; on the other, she feels like a “ghost,” unable to express herself in German and often bewildered by the unfamiliarity of everyday tasks in a new country, and in a new city which, she tells me jokingly, is quaint and polite like the well-behaved boy next door. 

But there’s a deeper, historical layer to Djabbarova’s story of exile. Her father was a refugee from the region of Nagorno-Karabakh, while her mother was forced out of her family home. “Homelessness and exile — this is my heritage,” she says. Being othered became a common theme of Djabbarova’s childhood, as a child of Azeri parents living in Yekaterinburg. “In Russia you are constantly reminded that you're not Russian,” she says. “Then during the summer you visit your relatives in Azerbaijan and they laugh because you cannot speak Azerbaijani properly.”

This sense of double estrangement is mirrored in “My Dreadful Body” (published in Russian in 2023 and recently translated into English by Lisa Hayden). At only a touch over 100 pages, it is a slim but powerful account of the pressures on one woman growing up among the strict codes of an Azerbaijani family living in Russia. A sense of surveillance and conditional belonging defines the narrator’s upbringing: “In the world where I grew up,” she writes, “gazes penetrated every little corner. The evil eye, the neighbors’ eyes, the relatives’ eyes, the random pedestrian’s eyes, the unscrupulous men’s eyes, the women’s unhappy eyes. Life in the community was reminiscent of a reality show with constant video surveillance: no action, word, or undertaking went unnoticed.”

The story is based on Djabbarova’s own life. “Maybe 70-80% of this story is absolutely true”, she confirms. The narrator is named Egana, she grows up in an Azerbaijani family in Russia, too Russian for the family, not Russian enough for her friends at school. She also, like Djabbarova, suffers from a debilitating autoimmune disorder that is eventually diagnosed as dystonia, a neurological disorder that causes involuntary muscle contractions. During one episode, she describes her body as resembling “willow branches gone mad from a strong wind” — a potent image of struggle against external forces. Djabbarova describes the book as a way to reclaim her body through language. “I was trying to tell this story in a poetic way. I wanted to change my body into poetry.” 

Each chapter of “My Dreadful Body” begins with a different body part (“Eyebrows,” “Eyes,” “Hair” and so on), like the poetic blazons spun by Renaissance poets. Where those poems encouraged an idealized, sensationalized reading of each body part, Djabbarova’s chapters are more sober explorations of the physical limits — and personal and cultural stories — these body parts contain. 

In one of many poignant scenes, the narrator’s head is shaved in preparation for a procedure. She cries on seeing her “shorn scalp,” but the sadness is not aesthetic, it’s ancestral; the act marks a symbolic rupture with her lineage. “My past,” she writes, “the past of all the women in my family, the memory of my ancestors, the history of a single body — all that now lay on the cold floor.” After this scene, her grandmother’s dictum that only long hair was considered beautiful, rings even more sharply. 

Illness then emerges as another form of exile, from one’s sense of self, from what’s perceived as “normal” in society, from the culture and community one belongs to. “They do not see you as a subject, as a human being, and they do not recognize your existence… I realized if I wanted to be seen as a subject, I needed to do it myself.” Djabbarova is talking about the plight to be believed about her symptoms here, but she could easily be talking about the often dehumanizing experience of exile. In both instances there is something fundamental under question, or as Djabbarova puts it, “You’re trying to prove that you have the right of being. You’re trying not to be erased.” 

We often talk about exile in the context of loss, but how might exile liberate? Paradoxically, Djabbarova tells me, her diagnosis became a form of liberation. “I always felt I had so many expectations on me as a girl, as a woman, so when I was finally diagnosed it was a liberation because my parents realized I would never be this type of girl.” Exile breeds a particular creative liberation, too, evidenced by the fact Djabbrova wrote the novel from Taiwan where she was briefly teaching Russian. “Here I had enough distance from my own life and my own experience,” she says. “Maybe it’s easier to write about your story being on an island in the Pacific Ocean.”

Writing is arguably the real heroine of Djabbarova's novel. For the narrator Egana, it is a place free from surveillance and a source of protection, “like an invisible amulet.” Poetry, she told me “was the only safe space for me because nobody was asking anything of me. It's the only place where I don't feel judged. I don’t feel ashamed. I don’t feel questioned.”

The chapter “Hands” opens: “The most important parts of a woman’s body were her hands: they prepared food, rocked children, did laundry, ironed men’s shirts, sewed clothes, swept, washed the floor, and dusted.… Any woman in our family knew that her hands were not given to her for writing.” To use her hands, then, to write becomes both a symbolic and quite literal form of resistance against such gendered codes.

Notably, Djabbarova is not alone in invoking the body as a space to explore the upheavals of exile. In Maria Stepanova’s autofictional work “The Disappearing Act” — recently translated into English by Sasha Dugdale — the narrator attempts to purge herself by volunteering to be cut in half as part of a circus trick. Djabbarova’s approach to reclaim identity and agency through the body is less literal, and more personal, but through this specificity she has landed somewhere indisputably universal. 

“I realized the only way I can write this novel is through my body,” she says. “Because the only way I can rehabilitate my being, my agency, my subjectivity is through my body. And that's why I wanted every reader to feel my body… It's really important for all of us not to forget that this right of being is basic. It's not given. It's something you have from birth." 

At the end of our conversation, Djabbarova (who has been speaking in English) struggles to recall a word and jokes that learning German is slowly pushing her English out. “Certain words I only remember in German!” she laughs. Is this the beginnings of a kind of homemaking for Djabbarova, a sign that the seeds she has scattered in her new country are taking root? Like her protagonist, who finds solace and safety in words, it seems that Djabbarova’s most trusted tool for survival, for managing the condition of exile, is language. 

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A funny thing happened on the day OpenAI announced it was shutting down Sora, its video generation app: Iran went all in on synthetic propaganda and very quickly started winning the global meme war. The timing is a coincidence, no doubt, but it is the kind of coincidence that illuminates. 

Watching the explosive virality of the clips offers a powerful lesson in asymmetric media operations. They deploy cultural sophistication, an understanding of online communities and the enormously powerful creation tools made available by American tech companies, tools that give everyone on the internet access to a personal reality distortion field — drones, but for your feed.

On Wednesday, as Donald Trump was trying desperately to talk down the oil markets with hints of a deal, a stream of videos, carefully calibrated for U.S., regional and third country audiences rolled out on X via embassy accounts, Russia Today, and disaffected Maga influencers. The clips, by broad social media consensus, are good. Some lean heavily on the extremely online grammar of the U.S. right. Some remix Hollywood characters and likenesses in exactly the way that OpenAI’s now nixed billion-dollar deal with Disney was supposed to sanction. Others lean more heavily into Islamic iconography, featuring Donald Trump and Benjamin Netanyahu as worshippers of Baal, the foreign demon god who figures in both the Quran and the Hebrew Bible. The Lego movie is an especially rich resource, but so are TikTok formats, and the kind of idealized AI figures beloved of Trump administration meme makers. You can watch a few of them here.

Notably, faked war footage is far from the dominant format. All of these clips foreground and celebrate their own artificiality: some are sentimental, some triumphal, many are full of the gleeful adolescent wit of gamers on discord forums. 

Researchers have long been warning that generative tools will undercut the authority of visual evidence, compounding and accelerating the damage created by slower, cruder forms of fakery: photoshop, selective editing, even gaming clips passed off as combat footage. Of course, we are already there, and have been for a while. Russia has been the paramount master of this game, in Ukraine and in its ongoing influence operations around the world. But others have learned quickly. Last year, when India and Pakistan were engaged in a brief aerial battle, social media bullshit overwhelmed and compromised traditional coverage. More recently, Israel’s obliteration of Gaza was accompanied by a sustained and comprehensive blizzard of visually compelling misinformation, propaganda, and official lies. 

That continues. On March 28, Israel killed three journalists in a targeted strike in Southern Lebanon, claiming without evidence that one of them, Ali Shoaib, was a member of Hezbollah’s Radwan forces. They later distributed a photograph of him in military fatigues to reinforce the point, but explained to Fox news that in fact, they’d had to photoshop the uniform in because no such picture existed.

Meanwhile, in the Trump administration’s domestic war on immigrants and political opponents, we’ve seen a complete resetting of norms around the tone of official communication and any expectation that it is rooted in fact. Nowhere was that more evident than in the altered footage posted by the White House of the arrest of the prominent Minneapolis activist Nekima Levy Armstrong in January. In the video, shared by the official White House handle, a handcuffed Levy Armstrong is sobbing, her skin visibly darkened. In fact, she had faced arrest calmly. 

Questioned by reporters about this blatant falsification, deputy White House communications director Kaelan Dorr responded: "Enforcement of the law will continue. The memes will continue.” Collapsing the distinction between a meme and the factual record with the aid of AI is the final step in this administration's insistence that its preferred narrative simply is reality.

The problem for the White House and its allies is that their choices in tech policy, official communication, and press freedom level the playing field for information war in ways that Tehran’s media strategists understand and they, for all their immersion in online worlds, do not.

Iranian propagandists know that the currency of visual information online has already been completely debased. They’ve dealt with it plenty, and no doubt practiced it themselves in regional battles for narrative dominance. Their insight is that as cheap and easy as it is to create and distribute fakes, returns on the effort of mobilizing what disinformation researchers call “coordinated inauthentic action” are diminishing. They still do it, but it isn’t where the action is.

Sam Altman, Elon Musk and Mark Zuckerberg have, in a very practical sense, wrought this moment in concert with Peter Thiel, Alex Karp, JD Vance and Donald Trump. At their urging, the U.S. has surrendered unrivaled dominance in scarce, expensive information and cultural assets in exchange for a political economy of media that widely distributes cheap, abundant ones.

Tech leaders and conservative politicians have worked consistently for a decade to deprecate the trustworthiness of American journalism and constrain its liberties. They have smeared its practitioners as “enemies of the people”; they have captured the commanding heights of the broadcast and culture industries through crony deals, and they have launched an assault on both press freedom and standards, two assets that once made American news outlets the envy of the world. Needless to say, the economic collapse of traditional media companies fostered by Google’s  and Meta’s advertising duopoly only served to deepen the damage. Jeff Bezos’s Washington Post shuttered its Middle East bureaus just days before the war began.

Meanwhile, lying from agency podiums and the Oval Office, makes Karoline Leavitt barely distinguishable from Baghdad Bob, Iraq’s minister of information in 2003 whose surreal, truth-dodging press conferences during the U.S.-led invasion made him a global laughingstock. And the DOGEing of both the nominally independent Voice of America, as well as the state department’s Global Engagement Center leaves the administration with neither broadcast nor digital counter-propaganda assets. 

When no one can be trusted with the actual truth, we are left with the AI equivalent of 19th-century editorial cartoons, produced at industrial scale and distributed globally. America has little advantage in that war, particularly when it is at a moral, political and legal nadir.

If anything, Iran, which combines repression with an enormously rich literary culture, film scene and advertising market brings serious capabilities to the fight.

Of course, the ebbing of information power was already under way during the first Trump administration, and during Joe Biden’s term in ways that are indissociable from broader democratic decline. The “trust and safety” architecture adopted by big platform companies was designed — implicitly if not always visibly — to conserve information authority, and ensure that it functioned in broadly pro-democratic ways. 

After the disastrous failures of the Rohingya genocide — which rights groups and UN investigators blamed Facebook for facilitating — and the fears surrounding the manipulation of the U.S. electoral environment in 2016, there was a clear threat to the commercial and political health of Twitter, Facebook and YouTube. Tech companies, governments, researchers and human rights experts devised rules and norms for content moderation grounded in existing standards, tools for detecting coordinated inauthentic behavior, and a framework for crisis response.

The community of practitioners and institutions that sprung up to combat the flesh-eating virus attacking the body politic were working with bandaids in the battlefield hospital even before Covid, a coordinated attack from the right, and the second Trump victory hit them, but they succeeded in imposing some limits. That project now lies in ruins. 

The Stanford Information Laboratory has been shut down. Trust and Safety teams at Meta and X have been disbanded. The national security arm of the project, centered around the State Department is gone, and private funding for countering misinformation has largely dried up.

Where are the hyperscalers, the AI titans, whose tools are being so effectively deployed, in all of this?

The trust and safety people who do work at OpenAI are dutifully putting out reports every few months. They are detailing how they foiled efforts to use ChatGPT for a Chinese influence campaign aimed at Sanae Takaichi, the Japanese prime minister, and exposing a Russian content mill feeding African newspapers. “Pro-tip for governments,” wrote Head of National Security policy Sasha Baker on LinkedIn of the February report. “Please don’t use our products to spread lies online.”

Governments, in the world of Sam Altman’s “democratic AI” do not include that of the United States. OpenAI has not mentioned a single U.S. ally — let alone the administration itself — in these reports. 

OpenAI has hired multiple ex-Clinton, Obama and Biden officials, and in their work a weird, attenuated piece of the old national security approach to information integrity lives on, alongside the project of selling products to the Pentagon. The company’s leaders clearly treat these issues  as a complement to messaging around Western AI, or a picayune adjunct to the bigger questions of AI risk, which are handled way up in the organizational stratosphere, as they are at Anthropic.

Perhaps the larger lesson is that you can’t really shut down Sora, or put AI-generated video back in its box. If you choose to prosecute an illegal war of choice after surrendering the hard-won high ground of a robust, democratic information environment, high tech weaponry will not offset the deficit. On the contrary, you will have compounded the risk of both tactical failure and strategic geopolitical defeat. When that happens, and in some ways it already has, those who made this war, and their enablers in Silicon Valley, will have only themselves to blame.

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Julia E, an 18-year-old influencer from Germany, was hanging out with her family on the Palm Jumeirah beach when she heard a blast and saw a fireball erupt into the sky. She knew tension was mounting following the U.S.-Israeli attack on Iran the previous day, but she didn’t imagine Dubai would be on the frontline. “I was a little scared,” she says. “Usually you just read about it in the newspapers, you see it online, but when you see it in front of you, it’s a different feeling — like your heart just drops.”

The fear was not an emotion she expressed on Instagram. Julia’s family moved to Dubai from Germany in 2024, tempted by the business potential of an emirate that aggressively marketed itself as the influencer capital of the world — a digital utopia carved out of the desert, with its gleaming skyscrapers and Insta-ready waterfronts. Dubai’s state-backed Creator HQ offers content creators long-term residencies, legal support, networking opportunities, training and an environment geared towards digital entrepreneurship. Influencers need a permit to legally operate in Dubai but taxes are negligible — 5% VAT on taxable income from clients in the UAE over AED 375,000 (about $102,000), and a flat 9% corporate tax on income exceeding AED 1,000,000 (about $272,000). It has attracted over 50,000 content creators to Dubai, which has a population of about 4 million.

With 60,000 followers on TikTok and Instagram, Julia is looking to build her own marketing company in Dubai. In an effort, she says, to comfort her younger brother, she recorded a video shortly after witnessing the explosion. It showed Julia, a palm tree and the glittering night skyline behind her, with the caption: “You live in Dubai, aren’t you scared?” The video cuts to a montage of Mohamed bin Zayed Al Nahyan and other Emirati sheikhs: “No, because I know who protects us.” The short video is set to an AI-generated rendition of the Belgian singer Stromae’s ‘Papaoutai’, a song that laments the loss of a father.

According to Julia, she was the first content creator to post an ‘Are you safe?’-style video, a now viral trend across the Gulf as influencers counter the narrative of a region in turmoil. 

“I decided to make that video,” she says, “because I did feel safe. And I wanted to spread some positivity and my perspective that we are still being protected and we still have someone behind us here.” As Iranian drones hit the Gulf, including luxury tourist hotels destinations like Fairmont, The Palm hotel and the Burj Al Arab hotel, there was a wave of schadenfreude online. Some users outside Dubai could not contain their glee that the city’s glossy surface, its influencer-curated image of sunkissed luxury, had been ripped apart. The distress of those who spend their working hours flaunting luxury and throwing shade at the cities they come from, were, it has to be admitted, amusing to many.

But Dubai’s influencers doubled down, as the war spiralled and airports shut down, stressing the city’s safety, walking around in crowded public spaces, praising “the best air defense systems” and the men behind it: a reaction so seemingly choreographed that people questioned whether it was part of a government PR campaign. 

On March 3, the UAE’s president and crown prince were conspicuously filmed on a stroll through a Dubai mall, reassuring bewildered shoppers. It was eerily reminiscent of Volodymyr Zelensky’s “The President is here” video from four years ago, when Russia invaded Ukraine. Vogue Arabia, headquartered in the UAE, praised Gulf leaders and wrote about the influencer campaigns and the people’s “unwavering faith in their nation’s leadership and its steadfast commitment to protecting those who call it home.” 

As inviting as Dubai is to influencers, they must acquire advertiser permits that can cost up to $4,000 and are told to respect the state and avoid circulating rumors and unverified information or any content that can harm the UAE’s foreign relations or “offend or compromise national unity or social cohesion.” In the wake of Iran’s strikes, the UAE’s Public Prosecution announced that "anyone who shares or republishes content from unknown sources may face legal accountability under the country’s applicable laws, even if they are not the original creator of the content.”

There is a sense of vulnerability among Dubai’s influencers, says Zoe Hurley, associate professor of media at the American University of Sharjah and author of the 2023 book ‘Social Media Influencing in the City of Likes: Dubai and the Postdigital Condition’. “They haven't necessarily been trained professionally. They don't have institutional guardrails protecting them, or any formal buffer zones that might have protected people who are putting themselves out there.” she said. Hurley made a distinction between “influencers who are here on holiday who don't live here and who are followed by, say, people in the UK” and homegrown ones, representing diasporas in Dubai — from South Asia, the Levant and Europe — “who people are turning to because they're the thought leaders in their communities.”

None of the influencers we contacted in Dubai or across the Gulf confirmed ever being prompted or paid to post positive content. The German NTV network, however, reported concerns voiced by German influencers: "I don't know what I'm allowed to say and what I'm not allowed to say," one posted, "We're not allowed to post anything!” said another. These stories and reels have since been deleted.

Julia made another video, responding to the accusations that influencers were essentially providing a PR service for Dubai. “I will tell you exactly how much I got paid,” she says. “Dubai pays me in business… in safety… in connections… with weather.” She adds that, unlike in Dubai, she would never venture outside alone in her native Germany after 8 at night.

This point about Dubai’s safety — leaving things in the car without being scared to be robbed, or walking alone at night — is echoed widely among European expatriates in the Emirates and Saudi Arabia who compare it to the relative anxiety they feel in Europe. Telegram’s CEO, Pavel Durov recently made the same point: “Unfortunately, I had to leave Dubai for Europe a week ago — so I’m not only missing the free fireworks from Iran, but also exposing myself to greater risk. Given Europe’s crime rates, Dubai is statistically safer even with missiles flying.” Elon Musk shared the sentiment, writing that “No country is perfect, but Dubai and UAE broadly are objectively safer and better run than many areas of Europe.” Notorius influencer and ‘manosphere’ icon, Andrew Tate, still facing human trafficking and rape charges in Romania, posted a video of himself dancing on a yacht “as bombs fall.” His brother Tristan Tate chimed in, comparing air attacks in Dubai to stabbings in London. 

What these influencers don’t discuss is Dubai’s underbelly, an invisible city occupied by an underpaid migrant workforce, their treatment explained away on the grounds that they make more money in Dubai than they would in the poor countries in South Asia and Africa that they come from. While the influencers enjoy government-sponsored benefits and status, these other migrant workers remain bound under the kafala (sponsorship) system that binds their residency status to their employer. Despite reforms, under the system their status remains uncertain, their earnings precarious, and imprisonment or fines for relatively minor offences is common. There are no golden visas for laborers and maids, never mind darker reports about human trafficking and sexual and physical abuse. 

London-based barrister Caoilfhionn Gallagher described the UAE’s exploitation of migrant workers as a “grubby reality, with rampant human rights abuses.” She said she had “acted for people prosecuted and jailed in the UAE for daring to work with human rights organisations or criticise the authorities,” referring to the mass trial in 2024, when 43 people, among them human rights activists, had been “subjected to enforced disappearance, solitary confinement and incommunicado detention.” 

The contrast between the city that influencers show their followers and the city built on the abuse of migrant labor is one that governments across the Gulf want to bury. The UAE’s 2031 vision sees creative industries contributing up to 5% of the country’s GDP. 

For decades now, the UAE has been trying to diversify its economy, to pivot away from its reliance on hydrocarbons. It is betting on the digital economy and tourism to be the cornerstones of economic growth. 

But for all the bravado on display, rich people and Western influencers are fleeing the Gulf, as war with Iran continues. Influencers unable or unwilling to leave, must keep grinding. Narcissus could not stop staring at his reflection even as he was dying. Will Dubai’s influencers be allowed to look away from their reflections in the city’s famous mirrored skyscrapers?

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Argentina has uncovered a Russian intelligence operation working to spread pro-Kremlin disinformation and influence public opinion, Argentine presidential spokesperson Manuel Adorni announced on June 18, citing the country's intelligence, according to AFP and Infobae.

The La Compania network, which is allegedly linked to the Russian government and the Kremlin's Project Lakhta, was led by Russian nationals Lev Konstantinovich Andriashvili and his wife Irina Yakovenko, who are both residents of Argentina, according to authorities.

The U.S. Treasury Department has previously accused the Project Lakhta, reportedly formerly overseen by late Russian oligarch Yevgeny Prigozhin, of election interference in the United States and Europe.

Prigozhin led the Russian Wagner mercenary group that was deployed in some of the deadliest battles in Ukraine, like the siege of Bakhmut. The oligarch was killed in a plane crash under suspicious circumstances in August 2023, around two months after leading a brief armed rebellion against the Kremlin.

Andriashvili and Yakovenko are accused of receiving financial support to recruit local collaborators and run influence operations aimed at advancing Moscow's geopolitical interests.

Their objective was to "form a group loyal to Russian interests" to develop disinformation campaigns targeting the Argentine state, Adorni said at a press briefing.

The spokesperson added that the alleged operation included producing social media content, influencing NGOs and civil society groups, organizing focus groups with Argentine citizens, and gathering political intelligence.

"Argentina will not be subjected to the influence of any foreign power," Adorni said, noting that while some findings have been declassified, much of the investigation remains a state secret.

Since Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, there has been a significant uptick in Russian migration to Argentina, some of which officials fear could be linked to covert intelligence operations.

Authorities reportedly said these espionage activities are often facilitated by a 2009 bilateral agreement between Argentina and Russia allowing visa-free travel, a deal that remains in effect despite growing security concerns.

In response to the threat, Adorni announced the creation of a new Federal Investigations Department (DFI) within Argentina's Federal Police, modeled in part on the U.S. FBI. The agency will focus on countering organized crime, terrorism, and foreign espionage, with investigators trained in advanced techniques and bolstered by experts in law, psychology, and computer science.

’100 days of Russian manipulations’ — Ukraine blasts Moscow over disregarding US ceasefire effort

A hundred days since the U.S. and Ukraine agreed on a ceasefire, “Russia continues to choose war,” Foreign Minister Andrii Sybiha said on June 19, urging international pressure to push Moscow toward peace.

The Kyiv IndependentMartin Fornusek