War crimes in the comment section

By Atty. Anfred P. Panes

A few days ago, I had the good fortune of serving as a judge for the 2025 Red Cross National Moot Court Competition in International Humanitarian Law (IHL), watching brilliant law students argue complex issues of IHL. For those who haven’t been part of this world, it’s a simulation where we take a fictional war, apply real laws, and try to figure out where the lines of humanity are drawn.

This year’s case, The Prosecutor v. Zara Smith, is set in the fictional state of “Manustan” and involves a separatist leader named Roy Gomez. What struck me about the facts of this case wasn’t the weaponry or the military tactics, but how the conflict started. The record states that before the shooting began, Gomez didn’t just stockpile ammunition. Instead, he stockpiled followers. He built a “grassroots movement primarily through social media,” using the internet to convince his people they were oppressed and mobilizing them for a cause that eventually turned violent.

As I sat there listening to the arguments, I realized that while Manustan is a made-up country, the scenario is uncomfortably close to home. In the Philippines, we don’t usually call it “information warfare” or “cognitive combat.” We just call it Facebook.

We are currently living through a pandemic of disinformation where “troll farms,” historical revisionism, and AI-generated deep-fake videos are deployed to ruin reputations or destabilize institutions. We usually treat this as a political annoyance or a moral failing of the internet age, but looking at it through the lens of IHL changes the perspective entirely. It forces us to ask a darker, more urgent question: “At what point does a Facebook post stop being “free speech” and start being an act of war?”

This isn’t a theoretical exercise. History has already shown us that words can kill. In Rwanda, the radio station RTLM didn’t fire a single bullet during the genocide. They simply broadcasted hate speech, calling Tutsis “cockroaches” and directing militias to specific locations. That broadcast was later ruled to be a crime against humanity because the microphone had become just as lethal as the machete.

In our local context, we are obsessed with the idea that as long as we are behind a keyboard, we are civilians, and therefore we are safe. We believe that spreading unverified rumors or calling for the harm of a specific group is just “expressing an opinion.” But the Geneva Conventions are evolving, and there is a growing debate in international law about “cyber operations” and whether a “keyboard warrior” who coordinates real-world harm creates a valid military target.

The Manustan moot problem is fascinating because it forces us to confront the principle of Distinction. In war, the most fundamental rule is that you must distinguish between those who fight and those who don’t. Disinformation blurs that line because it weaponizes the civilian population. When you knowingly feed people lies to make them angry enough to burn down a barangay hall or attack a specific individual, you are no longer just a “content creator.” You are participating in hostilities just as surely as if you had handed out rifles.

This is the true value of IHL that we often forget to celebrate. We tend to view it as a dusty list of rules for soldiers in trenches, but it is actually a code of honor that tries to keep humanity intact even when chaos reigns. It demands that we respect the truth because, in times of conflict, lies get innocent people killed.

So, what do we do about it? We cannot simply ban the internet or silence dissent, but we can stop being “useful idiots” in someone else’s war.

We need to start practicing what I call “Digital IHL.”

First, we need to treat the “Share” button like a loaded weapon. You don’t pull the trigger unless you are absolutely sure of what you are aiming at. Verification isn’t just for journalists anymore. It is a civic duty.

Think back to the “white van” kidnapping scares that circulate every few years. A picture of a random van gets posted with a caption screaming “KIDNAPPERS!” Within hours, thousands of people share it out of fear. In some cases, innocent drivers have been mobbed or beaten by terrified crowds because of a single, unverified Facebook post. That is a microcosm of war. The person who posted the lie provided the coordinates. The people who shared it provided the ammunition. The mob pulled the trigger. Before you share that “breaking news” about a bank run, a mall bombing, or a politician’s scandal, ask yourself: “If this is fake, and someone gets hurt because I shared it, is their blood on my hands?”

Second, we need to practice “Algorithmic Discipline.” If a post makes you feel an intense, immediate emotion, especially rage or fear, that is a massive red flag that you are being psychologically manipulated. Algorithms are designed to prioritize conflict because conflict keeps you scrolling.

We saw this during the COVID-19 pandemic. Disinformation about vaccines wasn’t just “fake news”. It was a public health hazard that cost lives. People believed shared memes over medical doctors. In an IHL context, if you sabotage the medical mission by spreading lies about the medics, you are violating the laws of war. We need to recognize that when we engage with rage-bait, we are essentially volunteering to be foot soldiers in an algorithm’s army. When you see a post designed to make you hate a specific group of people, the most heroic thing you can do is scroll past it. Deny the enemy your attention.

Third, we need our legal system to catch up. Our laws on cybercrime are stuck in the era of simple libel and scams, but we need to have a serious conversation about “cognitive warfare.”

Look at the rise of “Deepfakes.” We have already seen AI-generated audio of world leaders purportedly declaring nuclear war or announcing resignations. In the Philippines, we are seeing deepfakes of news anchors promoting scams or politicians saying things they never said. This goes beyond simple dishonesty. When you fake the voice of a President or a General to sow chaos, you are attacking the chain of command. We need legislation that specifically targets the architects of these mass disinformation campaigns, the people funding the troll farms and programming the bots, rather than just going after the gullible “Tito” or “Tita” who shared it in the family group chat.

Finally, we need to enforce “Social Sanctions” on liars. In the legal profession, if a lawyer lies to the court, they get disbarred. In the military, if a soldier lies to their commander, they get court-martialed. But online, if an “influencer” lies to millions, they get a brand deal.

We need to shift the culture. Being a purveyor of fake news should be just as socially unacceptable as being a drunk driver. It is reckless, it is dangerous, and it puts everyone else at risk. If we want to uphold the spirit of IHL, we need to value the truth enough to penalize those who trade in lies.

To the law students and mooters out there: Study hard. The battlefield is changing. The wars of the future will not just be fought with drones and artillery, but in the comments sections and group chats. We are going to need a generation of lawyers who understand that protecting the truth is just as important as protecting the territory.