India is witnessing a dramatic shift in its digital and media landscape, as government leaders intensify calls for citizens to embrace homegrown technology platforms and the country’s media ecosystem faces mounting criticism for manufacturing consent and stifling dissent. This dual movement—one promoting “swadeshi” digital self-reliance, the other warning of creeping authoritarianism—has come to define the contours of public discourse in the world’s largest democracy.
On October 3, 2025, three senior ministers from Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s cabinet took the unusual step of collectively urging Indians to migrate from global tech giants like Google, WhatsApp, and Microsoft to domestic alternatives. Technology Minister Ashwini Vaishnaw led the charge, presenting a government highway project using Zoho—a local competitor to Microsoft PowerPoint—and MapmyIndia instead of Google Maps. As reported by Reuters, Vaishnaw made a point of highlighting the Indian origin of the tools: “The map is from MapmyIndia, not Google Maps. It’s looking nice, right? Swadeshi.” The message was clear: India’s technological future should be built on homegrown foundations.
Vaishnaw’s advocacy is not limited to the boardroom. Just last week, he posted a video of himself experimenting with Zoho’s software, a clip that quickly went viral, amassing more than 6.2 million views on X. The campaign received further momentum as Commerce Minister Piyush Goyal and Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan endorsed Zoho’s messaging platform Arattai, a Tamil word for “chat,” giving the local challenger a publicity boost against entrenched foreign rivals.
This push for digital self-reliance comes against the backdrop of worsening trade tensions with the United States. In August, the Trump administration imposed a steep 50 percent tariff on Indian goods, prompting Prime Minister Modi to double down on his “swadeshi” call for domestically made products. The effort is part of a broader strategy to reduce dependence on foreign technology and promote indigenous industries, even as it risks complicating already fraught relations with Washington, D.C.
Despite these high-profile campaigns, the reality on the ground is more complicated. American tech products remain deeply woven into the fabric of Indian daily life. Microsoft’s office suite continues to dominate workplaces, Google Maps is the go-to navigation tool for millions, and WhatsApp—with over 500 million users in India alone—remains the country’s most popular messaging platform. Local startups like Zoho and MapmyIndia face a steep uphill climb, often lacking the capital and scale of their global competitors.
India has tried this playbook before. In 2021, ministers rallied behind Koo, a homegrown alternative to X, after policy disputes with the U.S.-based platform. But Koo was forced to shut down last year due to funding shortfalls, a sobering reminder of the challenges facing Indian tech ventures in a market dominated by well-financed global behemoths.
Yet, the government’s push for digital self-reliance is only one side of the story. As India’s digital infrastructure expands, concerns are mounting about the ways in which media and technology are being harnessed to manufacture consent and reinforce authoritarian tendencies. Drawing on the foundational insights of Germany’s Frankfurt School—a group of scholars who analyzed how authoritarian movements use media to shape public consciousness—critics warn that India’s current media and cultural landscape is increasingly engineered to serve those in power.
According to an analysis published shortly before October 4, 2025, the Hindi film industry has become a battleground for political messaging. Films such as The Kashmir Files (2022) and The Kerala Story (2023) have been accused of promoting fear and division, aided by government support and aggressive marketing campaigns. Dissenting films, by contrast, struggle to secure funding or distribution, and often face direct or indirect censorship. This, critics argue, is a textbook example of what the Frankfurt School called the “culture industry”—a mechanism for manufacturing artificial popularity and stifling genuine grassroots expression.
The mainstream news media have undergone a similar transformation. Major channels like Times Now, Republic TV, and Zee News have, as the analysis contends, “made it their daily business to defend the government and spread its majoritarian and neoliberal agenda.” Ownership by corporate giants such as Reliance Industries and the Adani Group only deepens the alignment between business, political power, and media messaging. According to the same analysis, “government failures have disappeared from prime-time coverage and opposition leaders constantly face character assassination.”
Independent journalists who refuse to toe the official line face systemic harassment, censorship, and legal threats. Many have migrated to digital platforms in search of editorial freedom, but even there, they are not immune to pressure. Journalists such as Abhisar Sharma and Ajit Anjum, and platforms like The Wire, face regular attempts at intimidation and content removal. The digital revolution, once hailed as a tool for democratizing communication, now appears—at least in part—co-opted by the very forces it was supposed to disrupt.
Digital platforms themselves are not neutral actors. The analysis points to X.com’s algorithmic suppression of dissenting voices during the farmers’ protests and Facebook’s tendency to favor establishment narratives. WhatsApp forwards, meanwhile, spread divisive content unchecked, while messages critical of government policy are often restricted. The algorithms that drive engagement tend to amplify outrage and polarization, burying nuanced political discourse in the process.
This dynamic is compounded by a widening digital divide. In rural areas, information is often disseminated through curated WhatsApp groups controlled by local political networks, creating parallel realities where different segments of the population inhabit entirely separate informational worlds. Government initiatives like Digital India, while promising transparency, are criticized as sophisticated surveillance tools, with citizens’ digital footprints used to monitor dissent rather than foster participation.
All of this, critics argue, creates fertile ground for populist leaders to bypass traditional democratic institutions. Prime Minister Modi’s “Mann Ki Baat” radio program is cited as an example of direct, unmediated communication that sidesteps journalists and public scrutiny. The analysis notes that Modi has not held a press conference in over 11 years, a fact seen by some as emblematic of the government’s preference for controlled messaging over open debate.
The consequences of this controlled media ecosystem are profound. Echo chambers proliferate, citizens are conditioned to accept simplified narratives, and the space for healthy disagreement shrinks. Democratic institutions—from the judiciary to civil society—are gradually sidelined in favor of strongman rule. As history has shown, such trends, if unchecked, can undermine the very foundations of democracy, leaving citizens with weakened institutions and diminished freedoms.
India’s present crossroads thus reflects a deeper tension: the desire for technological and economic self-reliance collides with the risks of manufactured consent and creeping authoritarianism. Whether the country can harness its digital ambitions without sacrificing democratic values remains an open—and urgent—question.
