DUBAI: “It’s costing me money talking to you” said Mona — not her real name — as she chuckled over a voice note she managed to send. “It’ll cost me a lot more if the boogey men find out too,” she said, referring to the Revolutionary Guards.
Like millions of Iranians, Mona’s life has been upended by Iran’s internet blackout, the longest in the republic’s history.
The latest shutdown came after American and Israeli airstrikes in February, weeks after authorities partially restored internet access following a brutal crackdown on nationwide protests.
While Iranian officials insist the restrictions are necessary to prevent espionage and surveillance operations during the war, critics say the country is moving toward something far deeper than temporary wartime controls: an internet no longer equally accessible to everyone.
To defend the measures, the Iranian regime has regularly cited Article 79 of Iran’s constitution, arguing that exceptional restrictions are permitted during war or emergency conditions.
The provision has been used to justify tighter controls over messaging apps, social media platforms and access to foreign websites under the banner of national security.
Iranian historian and author Arash Azizi said the authorities have used the war as an opportunity to impose martial law on Iranian society.
“Some in the regime might want to further the restrictions and repression to make Iran turn into a North Korea” Azizi told Arab News.
Internet shutdowns are not new in Iran. Authorities have repeatedly cut or severely restricted access during periods of unrest, often keeping parts of the domestic network running for banking, government services and local platforms while blocking much of the outside world. Foreign websites and apps become unreachable, leaving people in the country connected only on the state’s terms.
For years, ordinary citizens have relied on VPNs to get around restrictions on social media platforms and foreign websites.
Access, however, deteriorated during the war.
Sarah, an Iranian based in America, said she found it increasingly hard to check on her loved ones back home.
“They can buy calling cards, but they are very, very expensive. During the war, they would use them to call us and let us know they were safe,” she told Arab News.
“People go through long stretches of time without internet there, one of my cousin’s kids is a doctor and recently doctors and pharmacists have been allowed to connect to the internet, the family relies on her hotspot and so are able to contact us.”
Since early April, lawyers, doctors, teachers and business owners have reportedly been able to apply for broader internet access through a program known as “Internet Pro,” with approvals believed to involve intelligence and security bodies.
Officials said the initiative is meant to help businesses and professionals continue operating during the conflict, particularly as millions of Iranians face mounting financial pressure from the shutdown.
But even for those granted expanded access, the cost of subscribing to “Internet Pro” has become another burden at a time of deepening economic hardship. Iran’s economy, already battered by years of sanctions, has deteriorated further since the outbreak of the war, with living costs continuing to rise sharply.
The added cost is especially harsh for people whose income depends on the internet. Online shops, freelancers and virtual businesses have been left in a dire situation, with many cut off from customers and payment channels almost overnight. The strain is sharper in a country where the average monthly wage is about 20 million to 35 million tomans, about $240 to $420.
For many Iranians, the anger is not only about censorship, but inequality. At a time when the government is trying to present unity in the face of the US and Israeli onslaught, the question of who gets to be online and who does not has opened a visible divide in society. Many say “Internet Pro” only widens the gap between those with money, status or connections and those already struggling to get by.
The idea itself is not entirely new. Since at least 2013, authorities have quietly distributed so-called “white SIM cards” to a small circle of officials, journalists and figures close to the regime, allowing them direct access to the global internet while most Iranians were blocked from major platforms.
“Iranians usually learn how to circumvent the regime’s restrictions, and they’ve already learnt enough to be able to connect to those of us outside Iran. But this often comes at a high financial price and is thus not equally available to everyone. Unbelievably, internet has now become something of a status symbol which only some Iranians can afford” Azizi said.
For many, staying connected now means turning to expensive black-market VPNs or banned Starlink satellite equipment, often at considerable financial and legal risk. State media has reported numerous arrests linked to the sale and distribution of Starlink terminals, including a recent detention of four people, among them two foreign citizens, accused of importing satellite internet equipment into the country
“I believe the government, to an extent, that they’re doing this to protect themselves against Mossad agents in Iran, as there are plenty, they have been outing the government and communicating to let Israel and the US know where some weaponry was being moved. That was the government’s excuse to shut off the internet,” Sarah said.
“They can justify cutting off the Wi-Fi to punish citizens as they’ve got a strong internet two-tiered system.”
“Some people use Starlink but it’s very risky, it’s extremely dangerous. So, a lot of them keep it turned off and only turn it on during certain hours.”
“During the war, a contact of mine had Starlink, he would use it to allow folk to communicate with the diaspora in Canada, Europe, and the US; they’d call their families, conversations that would only last a few minutes, to tell them they love them. I found it really moving he’d risk his life to do that.”
