While internet memes are often dismissed as harmless entertainment, their humorous nature frequently masks a more troubling reality: they are constructed from symbolic forms — language, images, gestures, and sounds — that are deeply embedded in cultural systems of domination. These symbols are far from neutral; they carry historical and social weight, often rooted in hierarchies of race, gender, class, and coloniality. When memes repurpose these symbols, they can unwittingly reproduce existing power dynamics, allowing forms of cultural oppression to persist under the guise of humour.
Internet memes are a digital communication phenomenon that has gained prominence in recent decades. They now play an essential role in various social contexts due to their virality and rapid diffusion across online platforms. Richard Dawkins introduced the concept of the “meme” as a gene-like cultural unit — such as a catchphrase or behavior — that reproduces itself through imitation. With the rise of online platforms and a shift from passive content consumption to active “produsage”, the meme entered a new phase of its evolution. This transformation has been amplified by online anonymity and global connectivity, making memes a key element of participatory digital cultures worldwide.
The viral nature of memes has contributed to their intense use across a wide spectrum of social practices — from identity-building and public mobilization, to challenging or reinforcing hegemonic historical narratives, to coping with collective tensions and anxiety. However, this same virality has also made memes valuable tools for extremist actors. Memes facilitate the dissemination of hate speech by using humor to mask, soften, and normalize extreme messages.
One widely recognized example is the evolution of Pepe the Frog. Pepe’s journey began on 4chan message boards, where users embraced the cartoon frog as a relatable meme. As its popularity grew, alt-right groups began using Pepe in racist and anti-Semitic contexts. The character became associated with white nationalist ideologies and neo-Nazi imagery. By 2016, Pepe had become a prominent fixture in alt-right social media circles. The meme gained further notoriety when Donald Trump Jr. shared an image featuring Pepe during the presidential campaign. In September 2016, the Anti-Defamation League officially declared Pepe the Frog a hate symbol. This designation recognized the character’s widespread use in promoting bigotry and racism online.
What started as niche internet jokes increasingly influenced real-world events and discourse. Political campaigns co-opted memes to reach younger voters. News outlets began reporting on memes as cultural phenomena. This crossover had significant consequences. Memes became vehicles for political messaging and propaganda, simplifying complex issues into easily digestible, shareable content. This reductionism often led to the spread of disinformation and the reinforcement of harmful ideologies.
During times of war or crisis, this trend becomes especially alarming. Mediatized hate speech has the potential to dehumanize perceived opponents and amplify hostilities, shaping how the causes and solutions of conflicts are understood by the public. In such contexts, memes are often repurposed as instruments of digital propaganda. “Viral agitprop” — the strategic use of viral creative content to advance political messaging. Social media has become a battleground. Where the war is not only waged with conventional military tactics but also through digital content. News, updates, and first-hand accounts flooded social media platforms, along with a proliferation of memes.
In the context of the Russian war against Ukraine, meme-based hate speech demonstrates how humor can serve violent ideologies. Many memes have targeted Ukrainians by depicting them as non-human entities — most commonly animals or insects — as a way to justify or trivialize the violence against them. One meme shows an anthropomorphic pig with a traditional Ukrainian oseledets haircut being attacked by a human arm symbolizing a Russian media outlet. Another combines the imagery of pigs and Colorado potato beetles with derogatory language like “khohol” (a slur) and “fascist.” These memes do not simply insult; they carry out symbolic dehumanization, priming audiences to accept violence against an entire group.
What makes this even more concerning is the expansion of the meme’s target group. Earlier in the conflict, hate memes mostly focused on Ukrainian soldiers or nationalist groups. However, with the full-scale Russian invasion in 2022, the scope widened to all Ukrainians, making the dehumanization general and totalizing.
This shift in meme targeting is particularly troubling considering that dehumanization is a recognized early warning sign of genocidal violence. When large populations are portrayed as subhuman, violence against them becomes easier to justify in the public eye.
In contrast, other memes emerging from the same war glorify the Russian army rather than attack an enemy. These memes focus on boosting the army’s image and elevating specific figures, such as General Sergey Surovikin, who became commander of Russian forces in Ukraine in October 2022. Here, memes are not used for mockery or hate, but for mobilizing patriotism and legitimizing the war effort. For example, one meme adopts the classic Anakin and Padmé 4-part format: Anakin claims that each Russian tank army includes a mixed air division and a brigade of military aviation. Padmé replies with “there’s only one tank army,” then begins to question this belief. The meme humorously promotes the idea of Russian military superiority, far beyond what is publicly known.
This contrast — between memes that dehumanize and memes that glorify — shows the flexibility of the format, but also its ideological stakes. Memes are not neutral vessels. Even when they entertain, they rely on visual and linguistic shortcuts shaped by dominant cultural frameworks. And in times of crisis, these shortcuts can carry consequential and real implications.
A recent report from Eurofound on support for Ukraine highlights how the media landscape — increasingly shaped by social media and user-generated content — has catalyzed fragmentation and polarization among EU citizens regarding their stance on aid to Ukraine. In this environment, memes do more than entertain; they serve as potent tools of persuasion, subtly shaping how people interpret complex geopolitical events like the war in Ukraine. Because memes rely on commentary cloaked in humor, they can easily be used to promote specific agendas while avoiding direct scrutiny. And since humor often draws on cultural biases and shared assumptions, it bypasses rational critique — especially when it aligns with the viewer’s pre-existing beliefs. For users who primarily consume news via social media, memes can reinforce skepticism or even hostility toward foreign aid and military intervention. Data from Eurofound’s e-survey suggests that individuals who rely on social media as their main news source are significantly less supportive of housing refugees, providing humanitarian aid, or delivering military assistance to Ukraine. This pattern reflects not only the polarizing nature of online discourse, but also the subtle influence of memetic content that may portray Ukrainians as undeserving, corrupt, or even aggressors. In this way, memes do not merely reflect public opinion — they actively shape it, drawing on and amplifying cultural narratives that can influence whether, and how, aid is received.
If humour allows us to cope, it also allows us to hide. But what are we hiding when we laugh at a meme during wartime? Perhaps we are laughing at symbols that have long done the work of oppression — only now, in viral form.
Edited by Alexandra MacNaughton
Nina Soula is a third-year student at McGill University, double majoring in Political Science and International Development. Passionate about the intersection of technology and diplomacy, she is exploring how emerging technologies shape global governance, international security, and human rights.