In the midst of a surprise U.S. and Israeli military assault on Iran that began on February 28, 2026, the Iranian regime initially leveraged raw, unfiltered footage of the devastation to bolster its narrative as victims of aggression. Explosions rocked Tehran, smoke filled the skies, and images of bloodied streets and a Tomahawk missile striking a school in Minab—killing 175 people, including numerous schoolchildren—circulated widely despite an ongoing internet blackout. But as the conflict escalated, Iran's state media pivoted to a surreal strategy of AI-generated propaganda, featuring Lego minifigures in mock battles and memes tying American soldiers to figures like Jeffrey Epstein, which experts say resonated globally and even influenced the path to a conditional ceasefire.
The attacks came amid heightened tensions following months of protests across Iran, where the regime had imposed its longest internet blackout in history to suppress dissident videos and photos. Iranian officials dismissed those earlier images as "Zionist AI slop," even while acknowledging the deaths of thousands of protesters at the hands of security forces. Just weeks before the strikes, there were signs of selective internet restoration, reportedly aimed at allowing "those who can carry our voice further" to promote anti-war messages. However, as bombs fell, the blackout intensified, limiting information flow but not stopping the regime's outward propaganda machine.
Early in the conflict, Iranian state media disseminated high-definition videos capturing the carnage: grieving parents burying children in Minab, aerial shots of mass graves being dug for the young victims, and scenes of destruction in urban centers. These images, which spread virally on platforms like X despite the restrictions, became rallying cries for the regime. The Minab school strike, one of the first bombings on February 28, symbolized the war's human cost, with drone footage showing rows of graves that some online users initially accused of being AI-generated fakes.
Yet, by mid-March 2026, the tone of Iranian propaganda shifted dramatically toward what observers dubbed "AI slop." Videos depicted little Lego soldiers and burning Lego helicopters in AI-rendered deserts, crammed with references to dead Iranian schoolgirls, guns, and explosions. Groups like Explosive Media, behind some of these Lego clips, claimed independence from the regime. A representative told The New Yorker, "Is there any way to prove that you are not connected to Jennifer Lawrence?!" The group also informed The Associated Press that they were operating from inside Iran as "just a group of friends working voluntarily—paying for our own internet, using our own laptops and computers, and doing all of this ourselves."
Despite these denials, Iranian embassy accounts worldwide amplified the content. The embassy in Tunis posted, "American soldiers, you’re fighting for JEFFREY EPSTEIN," over deepfaked clips of U.S. troops. In The Hague, officials mocked President Donald Trump with Pixar-style AI animations, while the South African embassy repurposed a 2020 TikTok meme featuring IRGC spokesperson Ebrahim Zolfaghari. State media also shared Ghibli-inspired tributes to Minab's victims and deepfakes like a bloodied child's backpack from the Austrian embassy, later confirmed as fake by Google SynthID watermarking.
Experts suggest this bizarre content was tailored for international audiences, not Iranians enduring the blackout. Afsaneh Rigot, a scholar on human rights in the Middle East and North Africa, noted that with limited VPN access inside Iran, locals wouldn't waste bandwidth on such videos. "There’s a really, really deep understanding of the social media sentiment right now, and the global sentiment," Rigot said. She argued the propaganda countered the White House's memes—such as Call of Duty references and dancing bowling pins—by tapping into desires for resistance against perceived oppression.
The U.S. response included its own social media efforts, with the White House posting SpongeBob SquarePants memes aimed at its base. President Trump, facing soaring gas prices from Iran's control of the Strait of Hormuz, vented on Truth Social, issuing an "apocalyptic ultimatum" demanding the strait be opened or Iran would "live in hell." He later admitted, "The Iranians are better at handling the Fake News Media, and ‘Public Relations,’ than they are at fighting!" This economic pressure, combined with the propaganda war, led to a conditional ceasefire by late March, where Iran's demands formed the negotiation baseline.
Background on Iran's media apparatus reveals a long investment in digital warfare. Narges Bajoghli, writing in New York magazine, explained that over the past 15 years, Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei directed resources toward content creation. The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps funds or operates at least 50 production houses, including small, internet-savvy studios run by a younger generation. "These freelance studios are not ‘official’ IRGC channels but rather produce media for the broader media arms of the state, and they receive funding from both the IRGC and other coffers of the state and military establishments," Bajoghli wrote. She described how these teams, previously dismissed for their irreverent style, found an opportunity in the war to showcase faster-cut videos amid the deaths of elder leaders.
Mahsa Alimardani, associate director of the Technology Threats & Opportunities program at WITNESS, highlighted the international resonance. During a recent visit to Morocco, she recounted how locals thanked her for the Islamic Republic's stance, a stark contrast to her own criticism of the regime. "International solidarity with the regime has never been higher," Alimardani said. She added that Iran has "clearly been winning" the meme warfare, creating a "perfect propaganda moment" as the attacked party, aligning with its decades-long narrative of victimization by the U.S. and Israel.
The conflict's information environment was muddied by deepfakes from all sides. Accusations of AI manipulation buried authentic footage, echoing patterns in the Ukraine invasion and a prior 12-day Israel-Iran war in June 2025. In that earlier clash, a viral deepfake showed an Israeli strike freeing prisoners from Tehran's Evin Prison, but the reality was dead inmates. Alimardani's team at WITNESS struggled to verify content amid an "unprecedented" AI surge, fueled by accessible tools and Iran's history as a hub for disinformation operations.
Iran's playbook includes strategic blackouts and influence campaigns, dating back to partnerships with Russia in the Syrian civil war and the 2018 takedown of thousands of fake accounts on Facebook and Twitter. Platforms like Telegram and Instagram have been throttled during dissent spikes. Even as state media mixed real atrocity videos with fakes early on, later posts emphasized regime strength, showing downed Black Hawks and alleged strikes on Tel Aviv—shifting from humanitarian appeals to posturing.
Rigot emphasized the regime's need to project power: "They’re trying to maintain an image of strength, that the regime is still standing." This mirrored U.S. tactics, speaking in a language of dominance that Trump recognized. While the Lego videos and memes weren't solely responsible for the ceasefire, they amplified Iran's position, exploiting the MAGA base's online insularity against geopolitical realities like the Strait of Hormuz crisis.
The war's propaganda battles underscore broader challenges in discerning truth amid AI proliferation. In Iran, a nation balancing authoritarian control with historical grievances against Western interference, the lines between fact and fabrication blurred further. As negotiations proceed under the ceasefire, questions linger about Explosive Media's true ties and the long-term impact of such digital slop on global perceptions.
Looking ahead, the conflict highlights how authoritarian states adapt to information warfare, potentially reshaping future ceasefires through viral vibes rather than verified facts. With gas prices still elevated and international solidarity shifting, the fragile peace may hinge on who controls the narrative next.