VOICES OF TRUTH: Sikh Journalists Expose India’s False Flag Operations in Amritsar

In today’s India, where information is tightly controlled and narratives are carefully curated, a new breed of Sikh journalists is stepping into dangerous territory, not just reporting the news, are state-manipulated deceptions. A disturbing pattern of mock drills and security exercises in Amritsar that may be laying the groundwork for false flag operations. VOICES OF TRUTH

Late night military drills (carried out in May 2025) in Sikh neighborhoods, actors disguised as terrorists, and controlled panic scenarios, these aren’t isolated events. According to Sikh Media Activists (SMAs) on the ground, these simulations may not be about preparing for attacks but staging them. The fear is that a real incident could soon follow, conveniently blamed on Pakistan or pro-Khalistan forces, triggering another round of crackdowns on Sikh civilians and silencing legitimate political dissent.This isn’t just speculation. Sikh journalists (armed with smartphones, social media, and courage) are documenting these developments in real time. They are connecting the dots between past state actions and present patterns. For them, the memory of

1984’s Operation Blue Star is not history, it’s a living trauma. The idea that the Indian state could manufacture incidents to vilify Sikhs and justify oppression is neither new nor unimaginable. It’s happened before.What’s different now is the response. These independent journalists are not staying silent. From Amritsar to Toronto, Sikh voices are pushing back. With India’s mainstream media often echoing official narratives, Sikh media platforms have emerged as the only alternative space where truth can breathe. These outlets don’t have corporate backing, but they do have something more powerful, trust, firsthand access, and lived experience.

The state, unsurprisingly, is pushing back. Those who report independently are labeled extremists, foreign agents, or Khalistani sympathizers. Many face legal harassment, surveillance, and even threats to their lives. Some have gone underground; others operate from exile. But despite the risks, they continue to speak, record, and share. Because for them, silence is complicity.

Their reporting has raised critical questions. Why are Sikh majority areas repeatedly used for these terror simulation drills? Why do these exercises often resemble real life operations used to target and vilify minority groups? Why is dissent immediately labeled sedition, and how long can a democracy function if questioning the state becomes a criminal act?

Amid this tension, Pakistan’s role becomes part of the narrative. But not in the way the Indian government presents it. For many Sikhs, the contrast is stark. Several Sikh voices have contrasted India’s approach with Pakistan’s, portraying Pakistan as more respectful of minority sensitivities. While India’s blackout drills sparked fear and suspicion among local Sikh communities, some views them as coercive or politically motivated. Pakistan has been lauded by certain Sikh activists for fostering a more inclusive atmosphere, particularly through gestures like maintaining Sikh religious sites and supporting cross-border pilgrimages. Like while India tightens its grip on Punjab with arrests and raids, Pakistan opened the Kartarpur Corridor, granting Sikh pilgrims access to one of their holiest sites. The message, whether intended or not, is clear, one country offers pilgrimage and peace, the other offers surveillance and suspicion.

Sikh journalists aren’t saying Pakistan is perfect. They’re saying the Indian narrative doesn’t hold up to scrutiny. When Indian channels scream “Pakistan-backed attack,” these journalists ask, “Where’s the evidence?” They demand transparency, not scapegoating. They call out the hypocrisy of a system that criminalizes prayer meetings as seditious but ignores hate speech in mainstream politics.

What we’re seeing now is more than a media battle, it’s a struggle for identity and truth. These journalists aren’t just protecting their community; they’re defending the right to report freely in a country that claims to be the world’s largest democracy. They’re challenging a state that often confuses nationalism with obedience and dissent with treason.

Internationally, their efforts are gaining ground. Diaspora Sikhs are amplifying these reports, lobbying foreign governments, and funding independent media initiatives. From parliamentary speeches in Canada to UN submissions, the Sikh diaspora is ensuring that these stories aren’t buried or forgotten. They are reframing the global conversation, from one of security to one of rights, justice, and accountability.

This moment is a turning point. If these journalists are right—and a false flag operation does occur, the implications are grave. It would mean the state is willing to endanger its own citizens to preserve a political narrative. But even if nothing happens, the fact that such fears are credible speaks volumes about the state of trust between Sikhs and the Indian government.

The stakes are high. Not just for Sikh journalists, but for democracy itself. Because if one community can be silenced, surveilled, and scapegoated without consequence, others can follow. That’s why this story matters. That’s why it must be told. And that’s why these journalists, despite every threat, are still reporting.