Blog

In international relations, power is no longer defined only by military strength or economic influence. Today, the way a country is perceived by foreign publics plays an important role in its ability to act on the international stage. Media has become one of the main tools through which states try to shape their global image and make themselves attractive rather than threatening.

This idea is often connected to the concept of soft power, introduced by Joseph Nye. Soft power refers to the capacity of a state to influence others through attraction, culture, and values instead of force. Media is central to this process, as it allows states to communicate their narratives beyond their borders. International news channels, digital platforms, and cultural content all contribute to creating a certain image of a country in the minds of global audiences.

Many states invest in international media outlets to reach foreign publics directly. Channels such as BBC World Service, France 24, Deutsche Welle, RT, or CGTN present themselves as international sources of information, while also reflecting national perspectives. Even when these media aim to appear neutral, their editorial choices are often influenced by political priorities or diplomatic interests. Media therefore becomes a space where information and image-building exist at the same time.

Soft power through media is not limited to news. Cultural industries also play a major role in shaping how countries are perceived abroad. A well-known example is South Korea, which has gained strong international visibility through K-pop and K-dramas. These cultural products present an image of the country as modern, creative, and dynamic. While they do not carry direct political messages, they help create positive associations and emotional connections with foreign audiences, which can later support diplomatic or economic influence.

However, the use of media as a soft power tool raises important questions for journalism. When states are involved in funding or promoting media content, it can be difficult to clearly separate information from communication strategies. Journalists must therefore remain critical and cautious, especially when covering international affairs. Their role is not to deny the existence of soft power, but to explain how it works and what its limits are.

Digital platforms have made these dynamics even more visible. Through social media, governments can now communicate directly with international audiences, without relying on traditional journalists. While this can allow faster communication, it also encourages simplified narratives and selective storytelling. In this context, journalists play an essential role in providing context, verifying information, and highlighting what is missing from official messages.

In the end, media has become a key element of soft power in global politics. States use it to promote certain images and values, but these strategies are not always neutral or transparent. Journalism helps make these mechanisms more visible and understandable for the public. By analyzing the link between media and power, journalists contribute to a more informed and critical understanding of international relations.

SENOUNE Farah

In an age when information circulates at the speed of a click, the journalist’s mission remains surprisingly traditional: to seek the truth. Yet accomplishing this mission has never been more complicated. A single misleading tweet can spark a global controversy in minutes; a fabricated quote can ruin reputations before being debunked; and an unverified “leak” can shift the political landscape overnight. In this turbulent information ecosystem, the journalist must stand as a filter, a watchdog, and sometimes a mediator between competing narratives.

Journalists know that their first duty is verification. When The Washington Post exposed the Watergate scandal in the 1970s, Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein did not publish a single line without confirming it through multiple sources. Their editor Ben Bradlee famously insisted on “triple confirmation”—a standard still taught in journalism schools today. That rigour saved them from lawsuits, protected the integrity of the investigation, and ultimately changed the history of American politics. The same principle applies today, whether the story concerns a small-town budget scandal or the actions of a president.

Modern examples illustrate how essential this discipline remains. In 2013, during the Boston Marathon bombing, several news outlets rushed to name suspects based on Reddit speculation. They were wrong. Innocent people were publicly misidentified and harassed. By contrast, The New York Times and the Associated Press refused to publish names until law enforcement officially confirmed them. Their restraint demonstrated that speed, while tempting, should never override accuracy. Such moments show that a journalist’s credibility depends not on being first, but on being right.

Evaluating sources also requires a delicate balance of trust and skepticism. During the Panama Papers investigation in 2016, for instance, the journalists of the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists (ICIJ) received millions of leaked documents from an anonymous whistleblower calling himself “John Doe.” Instead of rushing to publish explosive claims, the team spent months verifying the material: checking signatures, cross-referencing financial transactions, consulting tax experts, and contacting the individuals named for clarification. Only after rigorous validation did the story break—revealing vast global corruption and leading to the resignation of Iceland’s prime minister. The anecdote has become a landmark example of how journalists must treat even sensational information with patience and forensic care.

The interview, however, often remains the journalist’s most powerful tool. It is in the intimacy of a conversation that hidden truths surface and contradictions emerge. Consider Christiane Amanpour’s interview with the Bosnian Serb leader Radovan Karadžić in the 1990s. Faced with his denial of atrocities, she confronted him calmly but firmly with verified facts and satellite images. Her determination to stick to evidence—not emotion—exposed the dissonance between the official narrative and the reality on the ground, and her interview is now studied as a masterclass in challenging power without slipping into aggression.

Preparation is what allows such moments to unfold. When Oprah Winfrey interviewed Lance Armstrong after years of doping allegations, she revealed that she had spent weeks studying his past statements, legal testimony, and timelines of events. Her questions were sharp not because they were hostile but because they were precise. At one point, Armstrong tried to deflect, but Winfrey calmly returned to the original question—forcing him to confront inconsistencies. That interview, watched around the world, became one of the most significant confessional moments in sports journalism.

Even everyday reporting illustrates the nuances of the craft. A local journalist investigating pollution in a rural community may need to interview residents who fear retaliation from employers, local officials who downplay risks, and scientists who struggle to explain complex data. Gaining the trust of such varied actors requires empathy as much as technique: agreeing to speak off the record, meeting people in environments where they feel safe, or simply listening without judgment. Often, the most revealing quotes emerge not from the first question, but from the moment when the interviewee realizes the journalist genuinely wants to understand.

However, interviews are never the end of the process. After every conversation, journalists must return once more to the discipline of verification. For example, when Maria Ressa, the Filipina journalist and Nobel Peace Prize laureate, documented state-sponsored disinformation networks, she systematically fact-checked every claim made by interviewees—comparing their accounts with digital forensic evidence and academic research. Her meticulous approach allowed her reporting to withstand political backlash and legal pressure.

Ultimately, journalism remains a profession built on trust—trust earned through accuracy, fairness, and integrity. A journalist who verifies carefully, evaluates sources wisely, and masters the art of the interview offers more than information: they offer clarity in a world overwhelmed by noise. Real-world examples remind us that the stakes are high. A single unverified claim can ruin a life, but a single well-researched article can expose corruption, reshape public debate, or even topple governments. In a time of uncertainty, the journalist’s role is not merely to report events, but to illuminate them—through rigor, humanity, and an unwavering commitment to the truth.

By Sahar Jemni

In recent years, fake news has become one of the most serious challenges for modern societies. The rapid growth of social media has made it easier than ever for false information to spread, often reaching millions of people in just a few minutes. This problem not only affects public understanding of important issues but also shapes political opinions and social behavior.

One of the main reasons fake news spreads so quickly is that it appeals to emotions. Manipulators often use fear, anger, or moral outrage to make content go viral. When people react emotionally, they are less likely to verify sources or check facts. As a result, misinformation can influence elections, damage reputations, and create divisions within communities.

Another important factor is the role of algorithms. Platforms like social media are designed to show users content that keeps them engaged. Unfortunately, sensational or controversial posts—whether true or false—get more attention. This means that fake news can be amplified, while accurate but less dramatic information gets ignored.

Statistics show how serious the problem has become:

• According to a 2025 global survey, a median of 72% of adults across 25 nations say the spread of false information online is a major threat to their country.
• In Europe, about 82% of citizens consider fake news a threat to democracy, and 77% believe it is a problem in their own country.
• A recent study shows that simple media-literacy interventions (teaching people to think critically about news) significantly improve their ability to distinguish real from fake news — and this effect can last for at least two weeks.

To fight this issue, media literacy is essential. People need to learn how to identify trustworthy sources, evaluate evidence, and understand how digital platforms work. Education, fact-checking organizations, and responsible journalism all play a key role in reducing the impact of misinformation.

Fake news will not disappear completely, but by developing critical thinking skills, being aware of manipulation techniques — and backing media-literacy measures — individuals can protect themselves and contribute to a more informed society.

Ia Morales.

A controversy about the French comedian Pierre-Emmanuel Barré, after a sketch on Radio Nova on the 10^th of November, has quickly escalated into a mediatic debate about satire, police legitimacy, and the role of the state in responding to criticism.

In his column for La Dernière, Barré launched into a violent denunciation of the police and gendarmerie, describing them as “structurally brutal, racist and irresponsible institutions” and concluding with a line that ignited the firestorm: “the police and the gendarmerie are basically Daesh with job security.” The phrasing was deliberately shocking, as Barré’s satire relies on hyperbolic provocation.

However, many listeners, police officers, and commentators have been genuinely offended. For officers who place their lives on the line, particularly in a country still shaped by the trauma of the 2015 attacks, the comparison with Daesh can feel like a profound insult. Police unions expressed outrage almost immediately, calling the remarks “disgusting” and “degrading”. For them, this is not satire but defamation, an attack that paints an entire institution with the crimes of a few.

And yet, despite the intensity of the criticism, this is where the controversy enters much more worrying territory. Rather than leaving the matter to police unions, civil society groups, or citizens to challenge, the Minister of the Interior, Laurent Nuñez, personally filed a complaint. This move fundamentally shifts the nature of the debate. What began as a dispute about the limits of satire has turned into a question about state power, freedom of expression, and whether an executive figure should intervene judicially against an artist who mocks his administration.

It is entirely legitimate for police officers to feel hurt or misrepresented. It is understandable that unions wish to defend the honour of the profession. But when a minister engages the justice system directly in response to a satirical sketch, the balance between political authority and artistic freedom is disturbed. A minister is not a union representative but minister embodies the state. And when the state itself targets a comedian over a piece of social satire, it can create a chilling effect that goes far beyond this one controversy.

Radio Nova, for its part, has defended its columnist. In a public statement, the station reaffirmed that “protecting the freedom of humourists is essential to the health of our democracy.” Their argument is simple: if satire cannot target institutions of power, especially coercive institutions like the police, then its democratic function disappears. Barré’s comments may be unfair or excessive, but satire is precisely the space where unfair exaggeration is permitted.

The heart of the issue is therefore not whether Barré went too far: many will argue that he did: the real question is whether the state should respond to satire with legal action. When an executive authority directly sues an artist, the potential consequences extend well beyond the individual case. Such actions can deter comedians, journalists, and commentators from expressing critical views, especially against the police or the ministry overseeing them. Even if the case ultimately leads nowhere, the message is clear: certain jokes may bring the weight of the state upon you.

In the end, this episode is less about Pierre-Emmanuel Barré’s words than about the response they triggered. It is entirely possible to find his sketch offensive while still believing that a minister has no place filing a complaint over it. In a democratic society, responding to controversial satire must be the role of civil unions and public debate.

Milo Vicari

(Julien Couture, Lucas Viera, Pierre Jacquelin, Mathéo Elana, Loann Toulc’hoat, Milo Vicari)

For several months now, France has been at the centre of a new kind of digital offensive. This time, there are no tanks or bombs: the weapon being used is disinformation. Cleverly constructed fake news stories, widely shared on social media; cloned websites imitating the national press; doctored videos circulating on Telegram: these are just some of the tools being used to undermine French society.

According to a report published by the Ministry of the Armed Forces in the summer of 2025, the country has suffered six months of intense disinformation campaigns orchestrated by pro-Russian actors. These offensives, conducted from abroad, aim to sow mistrust and weaken national cohesion. Their main objective is to undermine French democracy and sap support for Ukraine.

This information offensive has a name: Storm-1516. Behind this code lies a sophisticated network combining fake accounts, complicit influencers and seemingly credible media outlets. The French report on foreign interference describes a campaign that is increasingly coordinated and technological, capable of adapting its messages to the target audience. The attacks aim to create a climate of mistrust towards institutions, the media and even between citizens.

Between January and June 2025, analysts from the Digital Interference Vigilance and Protection Service, VIGINUM, observed dozens of campaigns of varying scale: fake interviews with French diplomats, doctored videos of elected officials, anonymous publications accusing France of interference in Africa or Ukraine. All could be linked to pro-Kremlin propaganda.

Russia’s strategy is clear: to shift the Ukrainian conflict into the realm of perceptions. By blurring the lines, Moscow seeks to turn every Western society into a psychological battlefield. France, due to its diplomatic and military role in supporting Kyiv, has become a priority target.

These campaigns aim to weaken the legitimacy of the French government, undermine the political consensus around support for Ukraine, and divide public opinion.

The content disseminated is not necessarily extreme. It mixes real facts with invented elements, giving an illusion of authenticity and making it more difficult to refute. Finally, the timing is meticulous: attacks appear on the eve of French political events (elections, parliamentary debates, social crises) to maximise their impact.

In early September, as France prepared to recognise the State of Palestine, yet another disinformation operation is currently targeting the country. A misleading video claims to show pro-Palestinian activists threatening to turn France into an Islamic State. This staging ticks all the boxes of a Russian disinformation campaign called Storm-1516.

Since 2024, another dimension has been added: artificial intelligence. Tools for generating images, sounds and text make it possible to produce falsified content en masse at low cost. Deepfakes showing French politicians in fictional situations have circulated on pro-Russian Telegram channels. AI also facilitates the translation and personalisation of messages. The same content can be reworded differently for a young audience, rural voters or French-speaking communities abroad. Disinformation thus becomes algorithmic, capable of adapting to everyone.

Democracies, committed to truth and freedom of expression, are moving more slowly than propagandists who have no ethical constraints. The adversary is banking on this imbalance.

The challenge for France is to protect its information space without renouncing its democratic principles. This means strengthening citizen resilience rather than imposing restrictions.

JACQUELIN Pierre

(Julien COUTURE, Mathéo ELANA, Lucas VIEIRA, Milo VICARI, Loann TOULC’HOAT)