By Abdullah Al-Omairah

In wars, truth is more powerful than rumors, and reality is stronger than anything said about it.

When some parties fail to achieve their objectives, they may resort to inventing victories that never happened and defeats they wish upon their opponents, as though repeating a narrative could change reality.

Those who cannot achieve victory on the ground may seek victory through words.

This does not happen only in wars.

In everyday life, we see people raising their voices when their arguments grow weak, exaggerating their achievements when they cannot prove them, and believing that repeating a claim will eventually turn it into truth.

Those who have achievements show them; those who lack them raise their voices.

In the age of digital media, manufacturing illusions has become easier than ever.

An anonymous account, a fabricated image, or a voice imitating a well-known figure is enough to set a false narrative on its journey to thousands of people.

What once required studios, equipment, and specialists can now be produced using artificial intelligence tools within minutes.

In October 2026, videos circulated claiming to show attacks on King Khalid International Airport in Riyadh. Fact-checking revealed that some scenes had been generated using artificial intelligence, while other footage came from unrelated past events.

There were real attacks, but that did not prevent fabricated scenes from being created and presented as part of those events.

Here lies the danger: a story does not have to be entirely false to become misleading.

More dangerous than fabricating a lie is finding people willing to believe it simply because they want it to be true.

Anyone who shares unverified information merely because it harms someone they disagree with becomes a participant in misleading others, even if they did not invent the story.

How many people demand honesty, only to become angry when the truth does not suit their preferences?

In some media outlets, the question is no longer: Did the event actually happen?

Instead, it has become: How can we benefit from it?

A minor loss is exaggerated, a major defeat is concealed, a possibility is presented as certainty, and wishful thinking becomes breaking news.

Arab history offers one of the clearest examples.

During the June 1967 War, the Voice of the Arabs radio station broadcast reports of Arab victories and Israeli aircraft being shot down, while Egyptian aircraft had been destroyed on the ground and Arab armies were retreating.

Millions listened to reports of victory before the facts revealed the scale of the defeat that entered Arab history as the Naksa, or “the Setback.”

The problem was not merely the defeat, but a media narrative that led people to celebrate a victory that had never occurred.

Politics has its share of this phenomenon.

Throughout history, leaders have raised their voices with threats and warnings, convincing their audiences that fiery speeches alone were enough to create power.

Some made attacking Saudi Arabia a means of gaining popularity or diverting attention from domestic crises.

Yet nations are not measured by what their opponents say about them, nor by what they say about themselves.

They are measured by what they build, what they protect, and what they are capable of achieving.

A power that needs to announce its strength every morning deserves to be asked what it has accomplished since yesterday's announcement.

On many occasions, Saudi Arabia has chosen not to engage with every hostile statement or become drawn into arguments that change nothing on the ground.

Not everyone who raises their voice deserves a larger platform through a response.

Sometimes, the most powerful response to those who wish for your failure is to continue succeeding, and to those who question your strength, to demonstrate your capabilities through action.

The effects of rumors are not limited to politics and wars; they can also reach markets and economies.

In May 2023, a fabricated image circulated showing an explosion near the US Department of Defense headquarters, the Pentagon. No explosion had occurred, but the image's circulation coincided with a temporary decline in US stock prices before markets recovered after the image was exposed as fake.

An explosion that never happened was nevertheless enough to unsettle the markets.

A short-lived rumor can thus have real economic consequences.

That is why avoiding pointless arguments does not mean allowing falsehoods to spread without correction.

Truth needs people who document it, explain it, and support it with evidence. This is the responsibility of professional journalism.

We should neither believe every statement nor reject one merely because it comes from an official source. Nor should we treat everything published by an international news agency as an unquestionable fact.

The standard is clear: What is the evidence? What has been verified? And what remains merely a claim?

When defending a position becomes more important than reporting the truth, journalism loses its credibility.

Ordinary people are the first to pay the price of rumors, which can turn fear into hostility and hostility into decisions affecting people's lives and futures.

Awareness, therefore, does not mean following everything that is published. It means knowing what deserves to be believed and distinguishing between news and opinion, between those who appeal to reason and those who exploit emotions.

A rumor may succeed in misleading people for a time, but it cannot change what actually happened.

A rumor needs people to repeat it; truth needs people to uncover it.

In the end, leave the noise to those who create it, and never mistake a raised voice for strong evidence.

Words can invent a victory, but they cannot achieve one.