Performative content posted by veterans on social media risks commodifying the uniform

Cdr Shrikumar Sangiah (retd)

The rise of social media and the ‘influencer’ economy has in much the same way as society at large, altered how military veterans shape their online identities. On social media, many veterans now present themselves in ways that feel markedly different from the traditional veteran stereotypes of stoic reserve, humility, and restraint. Social media is, of late, flooded with veterans’ posts romanticising the armed forces, their rediscovery of the virtues of military life, fervid expressions of their new-found nationalism, or ‘leadership lessons’ drawn from anecdotes—some first-hand, some borrowed.

This performative, high-visibility behaviour by veterans involving dramatic storytelling is, on the surface, uplifting. But beneath the surface, lies a striking irony. Many of these same veterans, during their active years, were vocal critics of the very system that they now romanticise. Whilst in service, they complained about the military’s bureaucratic inefficiencies and the rigid hierarchies that they deemed stifling. Now, in retirement, they cannot stop extolling the virtues of the same system, preach deference to authority, and champion the many merits of military discipline. 

This behaviour is by no means universal. Many veterans continue to embody the quiet integrity and silent professionalism that defines military service. They use social media for posts with objective critiques of military policy, training, preparedness, or other such issues and frame it around improving the military rather than building a following.

The growing prevalence of performative behaviour also raises other fundamental questions. Is this behavioural shift a genuine evolution—born of reflection and introspection, or is it something contrived? Can the roots of this phenomenon be traced to nostalgia and the psychological aftermath of military life?

Nostalgia, derived from the Greek words ‘nostos' (return home) and ‘algos' (pain), was first identified in the 17th century by Swiss physician Johannes Hofer as a condition afflicting soldiers—manifesting as homesickness, anxiety, and melancholy. In the context of veterans, it morphs into a longing for the structured world of the barracks, the adrenaline of operations, and the sense of belonging that civilian life often fails to replicate. Psychological studies on the US civil war veterans described it as ‘soldier’s heart,’ where idle post-war life exacerbated symptoms, leading to boredom and a romanticised view of past hardships.

For modern-day veterans, nostalgia appears to manifest itself in social media posts that idealise the ‘good old days.’ Such nostalgia tends to gloss over the military’s harsher realities—the difficult deployments and the internal grievances that once dominated conversations at the mess table.

This selective memory aligns with research on ‘reculturation’, where veterans struggle with identity loss upon transitioning to civilian life, leading them to often retreat into a glorified military persona to regain their sense of purpose. Sociologically, this can be linked to Emile Durkheim’s concept of ‘collective effervescence’—the euphoric sense of unity experienced in group rituals, like parades and mess nights, which veterans seek to recapture online. However, when this nostalgia becomes performative, it degenerates into hypocrisy.

Compounding the pervasiveness of this trend is the allure of ‘engagement farming’, a tactic rampant on social media platforms like LinkedIn, Instagram, Facebook, etc., where users craft content to maximise likes, shares, and comments for greater online visibility. Originally a professional networking site meant for business-oriented interactions, LinkedIn has, sadly, mutated into a space similar to other entertainment-driven social media platforms such as Facebook and Instagram—flooded with inspirational memes, patriotic imagery (peaking around Republic/ Independence Day), and vague ‘lessons learned’ posts.

Veterans, leveraging their military backgrounds, find fertile ground on LinkedIn—a post about ‘camaraderie in the trenches’ garners hundreds of reactions—boosting their online profiles. Very often, these posts prioritise shallow sentiment over depth. Such posts exploit emotional triggers like patriotism, much like how marketers manipulate algorithms to turn genuine emotions into engagement hooks.

The irony deepens when one encounters split online personas of some of the veterans. On public platforms, some veterans project an image of polished virtuousness, but in WhatsApp intra-group (often course-specific) debates on sundry political/ social issues, their arguments routinely devolve into communal/ sectarian insults—unmindful of the inclusive ethos of the military. Within these course-specific groups, they give free rein to their unfiltered views, exposing their communal biases, contradicting the camaraderie they publicly espouse in their LinkedIn posts.

On TV debates and podcast discussions, the mask slips even further—senior veterans in their avatars as ‘defence experts’, justify their bigoted and communal views under the cloak of patriotism or nationalism. Such behaviour raises some troubling questions—did these veterans subscribe to such views while they were in service and only held themselves back from voicing them because service regulations forbade their public expression? Did these unexpressed, but deeply held beliefs ever influence (even unconsciously) their decisions when posted in communally sensitive areas?

From a sociological standpoint, the performative behaviour of veterans on social media may stem from post-retirement marginalisation leading to a striving for relevance. Social media offers veterans a stage to reclaim relevance even if it is at the cost of authenticity. Psychologist Jonathan Haidt suggests in The Righteous Mind that humans are prone to ‘enlightened hypocrisy,’ rationalising inconsistencies to maintain their self-image. For veterans, this means reconciling past grievances with present glorification, perhaps to cope with the ‘loss of identity’.

Military’s Social Esteem

Another layer to this phenomenon of engagement farming, resorted to by veterans, lies in the unparalleled esteem in which the Indian armed forces—and by extension, their veterans—are held by the general citizenry. Most surveys consistently place the defence forces at the top of institutional trust in India—far surpassing even the judiciary and other branches of government. This reverence stems from a deep cultural narrative of sacrifice and apolitical service—images of soldiers bravely manning our borders or providing aid during disaster relief evoke near-unquestioned admiration.

Therefore, when a retired officer shares insights, on LinkedIn, on issues related to leadership, discipline, or patriotism, the content arrives pre-endorsed by the institution’s credibility. Audiences, conditioned to view veterans as embodiments of integrity and authenticity, are far more inclined to like, share, and comment—without much scrutiny, boosting algorithmic reach. A mundane anecdote framed as a ‘timeless lesson from the front’ garners hundreds of likes precisely because the messenger carries the uniform’s lingering aura.

It is true that the sharing of performative content and engagement farming is widespread across professions—corporate executives sharing ‘leadership lessons,’ religious leaders selling salvation, influencers peddling inspiration, and everyday users chasing likes. However, veterans occupy a unique position owing to the social esteem that they enjoy, and this demands greater restraint on their part. The trust differential amplifies engagement—the same post from a corporate executive might fade into obscurity, but from a veteran, it resonates as authentic wisdom. It is embarrassing and unsettling to see retired voices, that automatically command deference, being leveraged for personal digital capital rather than to stimulate thoughtful reflection or some much-needed service reform—eroding the very authenticity that earned the deference in the first place.

Global Trends

This performative social media behaviour among veterans is not unique to India. There exist global parallels albeit with contextual differences. In the US, veterans’ social media behaviour often intersects with extremism, driven by similar psychological factors but amplified by the political and racial polarisation present in the US society. A 2023 RAND survey found that while US veterans show lower support for extremist groups like the white supremacists (0.7 per cent vs 7 per cent in the general public), those who do endorse such views often cite negative military experiences—trauma, disillusionment, or identity crises as catalysts.

In such cases, it is nostalgia manifesting as a yearning for the ‘warrior identity,’ leading some veterans to far-right online communities that romanticise military prowess while promoting nationalism. For example, in the US, post the January 6 ‘troubles’ of 2021, investigations revealed that veterans involved in the Capitol riot justified their actions as ‘patriotic’ defence (paralleling many Indian veterans’ utterances during TV appearances). The US veterans’ presence on social media would appear to involve an element of radicalisation with social media groups targeting veterans for their combat skills.

In the United Kingdom (UK), far-right groups actively target veterans online, exploiting their nostalgia for the ‘simpler times’ of empire and service—to recruit them, for example, for anti-immigrant causes. Compared to India, UK veterans' online presence is less about spouting leadership lessons and more about advocacy. Differences arise from cultural contexts—the preponderance in India of ‘performative patriotism/ nationalism’ probably stems from our confusion around post-colonial identity. Globally, marginalisation drives veterans’ extreme online/ offline behaviour; in India, their behaviour is more benign—driven as it is by nostalgia—keeping us safe, at least for now, from the extremism risks of the west.

Endnote

It is necessary here to emphasise that the disapproval of veterans’ social media behaviour is directed solely at its performative, engagement-driven character (the polished anecdotes crafted primarily for likes and shares or personal branding), and the leveraging of the uniform’s prestige for shallow personal gain. There would be nothing wrong, and indeed much that would be valuable, if veterans were to use social media to genuinely educate, share hard-earned insights, mentor the younger generation, or illuminate lesser-known aspects of military life and leadership. Thoughtful, substantive contributions—whether recounting lessons from real operations, discussing reforms needed in the forces, or offering balanced perspectives on national security—strengthen public understanding and honour the military as an institution. The concern arises only when authenticity gives way to spectacle and when the platforms cease to be viewed as means to enable meaningful exchange and instead become instruments for self-promotion.

When veterans leverage the inherited halo of their service by romanticising their service experience, for social media likes and shares—it risks commodifying the uniform. While it might seem harmless because ‘everyone is doing it’, such acts by veterans erodes the very authenticity that makes military voices authoritative. Only by veterans holding themselves to a higher standard can they preserve the institution’s integrity and honour. Veterans need to hold themselves to a higher standard for the trust society places in them and guard against diluting it for meaningless gains. The bar for veterans is higher precisely because the esteem is greater.

Finally, if the publication of this article invites any accusation of hypocrisy it would be a fair charge (as a fellow veteran I too could as easily be accused of chasing visibility). Any suggestion of inconsistency or hypocrisy would be justified. However, the distinction lies in the substance and the intent. This commentary is intended as an evidence-based reflection and candid self-scrutiny. Also, it is aimed at a professional readership—fellow veterans, lay readers, and scholars who value depth over virality.

The disapproval of veterans’ social media behaviour expressed here is triggered by a quiet alarm at how readily the aura of the uniform is being repurposed for personal ‘digital capital’ via performative content that leverages the honour and prestige associated with military service. True espirit de corps demands the discipline to confront our contradictions—collectively. Should this critique prompt even a few fellow veterans to pause and examine their digital personas with greater honesty—that outcome would far outweigh any risk of being perceived as inconsistent or hypocritical. Only authentic and dignified social media engagement, free from pretence and performative posturing, will help uphold the proud legacy of the military.