‘Dry Fruit Diplomacy’ at BRICS: The Images Are Real, the Viral Narrative Only Half True

Muna Chand

Two scenes from the 18th BRICS Summit in New Delhi have become the focus of widespread international discussion. In one, Russian President Vladimir Putin is delivering a serious address while India’s National Security Adviser Ajit Doval, seated behind him, appears to be eating something. In another, Indian Ministry of External Affairs spokesperson Randhir Jaiswal repeatedly reaches for dry fruits placed on the table while Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian is speaking.

At first glance, these may appear to be ordinary moments from a lengthy international conference. But when such behaviour is captured on camera at one of the world’s most important diplomatic gatherings, a few seconds can quickly become a larger debate about etiquette, professional discipline and the visual culture of modern diplomacy.

The facts should first be separated from the outrage. The original footage is not fabricated. Both Doval and Jaiswal were present at the BRICS summit, and the images showing them taking food are genuine. The scenes were recorded while Putin and Pezeshkian were addressing the gathering. It is therefore inaccurate to dismiss the entire episode as fake or digitally manufactured.

But the viral narrative is less straightforward than it appears. One of the most widely circulated clips featuring Jaiswal was reportedly accelerated to around three times its original speed. That manipulation made his hand movements, eating and repeated reaching for food appear much faster, more continuous and more comical than they actually were. The dry fruits on the table were also part of the conference arrangements rather than food privately brought into the hall.

That context matters. But it does not erase the underlying question.

The footage may have been accelerated, but Jaiswal was indeed eating. Doval was also seen taking food during Putin’s address. The real issue is therefore not whether senior officials were legally or formally permitted to eat. The sharper question is whether officials of the host country, seated directly within the camera frame behind world leaders delivering formal speeches, should have exercised greater restraint and awareness of how their conduct would be perceived.

There is no universal diplomatic rule declaring that no participant may drink water, have tea or take a light snack while a head of state is speaking. Long international meetings routinely provide refreshments. Eating a dry fruit is not, by itself, a serious breach of diplomatic protocol.

But protocol is not merely a collection of written regulations. Much of diplomacy depends on judgement, timing, restraint, situational awareness and an understanding of what one’s behaviour communicates to others.

On that standard, the images of the Indian officials were not ideal.

Repeatedly reaching for food, moving one’s hands toward the mouth or appearing distracted while a visiting head of state is making a formal intervention does not create a strong professional image, particularly when the individuals involved represent the host country. At a summit of this level, senior diplomats and security officials are not merely people sitting in a hall. They are also visual representatives of their state’s institutional culture and discipline.

The Jaiswal footage attracted greater attention for precisely this reason. He is not an ordinary official. As the spokesperson of India’s Ministry of External Affairs, he is one of the country’s most visible diplomatic communicators. Public presentation, international messaging and institutional image are central to his professional responsibilities.

The fact that the viral clip was speeded up certainly exaggerated his behaviour. But the unaltered footage still raises a legitimate question about camera awareness and professional presentation.

Doval’s case appears somewhat different. He is seen taking food, but the public footage does not show the same prolonged or repetitive sequence associated with Jaiswal. Treating both episodes as identical examples of outrageous conduct would therefore be an overstatement. Diplomatic analysis should distinguish between a brief human action and behaviour that repeatedly becomes visually conspicuous.

There is another exaggeration that deserves correction. The claim that the officials had “stopped listening and were interested only in eating” cannot be established from a video clip. A person can eat while still listening to a speaker. Short footage cannot reveal whether someone was following an interpretation feed, mentally processing a speech or simply reaching for a snack.

The camera proves that they ate. It does not prove what was happening inside their minds.

That distinction between visible fact and inferred intention is precisely where professional journalism must differ from social-media outrage.

Yet the episode raises a larger and more consequential issue. Modern diplomacy is no longer judged solely by what leaders say. It is increasingly shaped by what cameras capture.

At major summits, cameras do not record only the speaker at the podium. They also capture the official sitting behind him, the adviser checking a phone, the diplomat whispering to a colleague, the delegate appearing to sleep, the facial expression, the laughter, the apparent boredom or the hand repeatedly reaching for food.

Any of those moments can be extracted within minutes and transformed into a political symbol.

This is the new reality of camera diplomacy.

Behaviour that might once have passed unnoticed inside a conference hall can now be clipped, accelerated, replayed, captioned and circulated to millions of people around the world. Context disappears faster than the image itself. A minor lapse can become attached to the reputation of an institution or even a country. In that environment, even something as ordinary as eating a dry fruit can become a diplomatic controversy.

The manipulation of Jaiswal’s video is therefore important, but it is not a complete defence. If anything, it offers a second lesson for senior officials. They must assume that every visible movement can be isolated, edited and repackaged. Participation in a summit today means sitting not simply in a conference room but inside a global broadcast.

Body language has become part of diplomatic communication.

Sometimes silent discipline sends a stronger message than a formal statement.

There is also a legitimate organizational question for the host. If food is openly placed on delegates’ tables while heads of state are delivering televised formal statements, similar images are almost inevitable. Long meetings require refreshments, but high-level event management can provide scheduled breaks, discreet service or arrangements that minimize distracting visual scenes during major speeches.

Protocol at a summit is not only about flags, seating order, security and ceremonial greetings. Visual discipline is now part of the equation.

At the same time, it would be unfair to use several seconds of footage as a measure of India’s entire diplomatic culture. India has a large and experienced foreign service, a substantial foreign-policy establishment and considerable experience in hosting major multilateral events. Two officials eating during a summit cannot logically establish that Indian diplomacy as a whole lacks “civic sense.”

But that institutional sophistication is precisely why expectations of senior Indian officials are higher. Experienced diplomatic systems are expected to understand not only formal protocol but also the symbolism of small gestures.

There is a useful lesson here for Nepal as well. Ministers, secretaries, diplomats and security officials attending international meetings must understand that they are not merely participants. They are visual representatives of their country.

Using a phone unnecessarily, laughing at an inappropriate moment, whispering, appearing asleep, eating conspicuously or simply failing to appreciate the camera angle can become a national-image issue within seconds.

There is an equally important lesson for journalists and audiences. A viral video may contain truth, but it rarely contains the entire truth. Before drawing conclusions, one should ask whether the footage has been accelerated, where it originated, what happened before and after the clip, whether the people shown have been correctly identified, and whether the accompanying caption reports a fact or merely imposes an interpretation.

The final assessment is therefore straightforward.

The footage showing Ajit Doval and Randhir Jaiswal eating dry fruits at the BRICS summit is real. It cannot honestly be dismissed as fabricated. But at least one widely circulated version of the Jaiswal video was accelerated, making his behaviour appear more exaggerated than it was. The popular narrative that Indian officials simply ignored world leaders and devoted themselves to eating is therefore only half true.

Still, the optics were poor.

Senior officials representing the host country at such a high-level gathering should have displayed greater restraint, situational awareness and camera consciousness. The episode does not amount to a major diplomatic offence, but neither should it be dismissed as meaningless.

Modern diplomacy carries a harsh lesson: the head of state may be speaking from the centre of the stage, but sometimes the world is watching the person sitting behind him.