What's in my bag? A war survival kit

In recent years, politics has become increasingly social, increasingly resembling so-called content. Influencers are entering politics, campaigns are happening on TikTok—like Kamala Harris’s, who hired U.S. creators to speak (positively, of course) about her and her party in an attempt to win over Gen Z and young voters. Across the ocean, Donald Trump and Elon Musk perfectly embody this trend. Considered meme lords by their supporters, they create catchphrases and use their influence for political gain. Just a few years ago in Italy, Matteo Salvini used to post everything he ate, partly to share his diet in a kind of What I eat in a day format and partly to promote the importance of consuming Italian products. Today, it’s no secret that memes are political, that they engage in politics, and that they often originate from political discourse—sometimes organically, sometimes more strategically, meaning paid. But what if even social media formats considered girly entered the arena?

Hadja Lahbib’s War Survival Kit

Taking this clash between politics and social media formats to its extreme is Hadja Lahbib, European Commissioner for International Cooperation, Humanitarian Aid, and Crisis Response, with a video on X showcasing her war survival kit. With fast, TV-style editing, she announces a What's in my bag - Survival Edition and then begins her list: glasses (if you want to see what’s happening—or not, she jokes as she places them on the table), water, canned food, medicine, flashlight, Swiss army knife, cash, matches, lighter, photocopies of identification documents in a waterproof folder, playing cards, and batteries.

It’s inevitable that a discussion about war, when presented on social media in this way, feels completely hollow and trivialized. The stark contrast between the idea of "preparing for war" as if it were an uncontrollable event that suddenly happens in the middle of the night—akin to an earthquake—clashes violently with the image of the Commissioner in her light blue suit and sneakers, holding a taupe-colored crossbody bag, cheerfully explaining how the EU’s motto should be "Ready for anything." The effect is shocking, just as users found the content itself shocking.

A Tone of Voice Problem?

While it’s certainly important to alert people to a danger—one that now seems closer than we thought—the issue here is the tone. The forced irony and relentless pursuit of relatability, rather than making the message more accessible and engaging—as the European Commission under Ursula von der Leyen likely intended—ends up making us feel mocked. Why must everything be filtered through social media formats? What’s next, a Get Ready With Me - War Edition? Is politics just content creation now? What is this forced irony that seems to have replaced the much-needed sense of institutional dignity—the very thing that should set political leaders apart, yet seems increasingly absent? If there’s a crisis of trust in institutions, a lack of guiding figures that drives people into the arms of social media activists, this transformation of politics into content can only make it worse. Perhaps we are ready to enter a post-content era—one in which communication, especially political communication, must find new paths, new methods, new channels. Instead of blending politicians with influencers, we need to distinguish them, eliminate confusion, and establish clear boundaries and limits. At least, we can hope so.