Iran’s internet blockade has entered its 73rd consecutive day on May 12, according to NetBlocks, marking the longest nationwide internet disruption ever recorded in any country. The shutdown has sparked fierce debate both inside and outside Iran: between those who see it as a legitimate wartime security measure and those who view it as an instrument of political repression. That debate has now reached the highest levels of the Iranian government itself, with cabinet ministers, judiciary officials, and security bodies openly disagreeing over the policy’s justification and future.
The current blackout unfolded in two distinct stages. The first began on January 8, 2026, in response to an anti-government protest wave that was sparked by economic grievances on December 28, 2025. The second and far more severe phase was triggered on February 28, 2026, when the United States and Israel struck targets across Iran. Internet traffic dropped by 98 percent on February 28, signaling a near-complete blackout, with state-affiliated media indicating that only pre-approved websites were accessible through the National Information Network. By April 21, the shutdown had surpassed 1,248 consecutive hours, making it the longest nationwide internet disruption recorded in any country.
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Iranian authorities have offered a consistent, if contested, rationale for the shutdown. Officially, the blackout was imposed to protect critical digital infrastructure from foreign cyberattacks during an active military conflict, particularly following reported attacks on Iranian banks and financial platforms attributed to hostile foreign actors. Government spokesperson Fatemeh Mohajerani acknowledged that internet access is “the right of the people,” but argued that the country’s wartime situation warranted exceptional measures. She noted that Internet Pro - a tiered access scheme - carries the formal approval of the Supreme National Security Council, lending it institutional legitimacy under Iranian law.
Communications Minister Sattar Hashemi has similarly framed the restrictions as decisions made by “relevant security authorities,” placing responsibility with the bodies mandated to assess national security threats. Proponents of the shutdown also point to the documented reality of cyberwarfare during the conflict: Iran faced sophisticated attacks on its banking system and digital infrastructure at a time of active military exchange. As a result, the government argues that an open internet would pose genuine operational vulnerabilities to the state. Some Iranian officials and commentators frame the issue in terms of the right of a nation under attack to control its own information environment, which has some historical parallels.
Critics, including voices now within the Iranian establishment, offer a sharply different reading. The most damaging argument against the government’s position is simple timing: a ceasefire brokered by Pakistan took effect on April 8, but the blackout did not end with it. Iran’s own Deputy President for Science Affairs, Hossein Afshin, stated plainly: “Even in wartime, shutting down the internet cannot be a solution - as the continuation of assassinations during the complete internet blackout itself demonstrated.” He added that the shutdown is damaging Iran’s scientific standing and driving down its academic rankings.
Human rights organizations argue that Iranian authorities have a track record of imposing shutdowns to restrict access to information, conceal atrocities, and obstruct independent documentation of violations amid times of unrest. They have described the January phase specifically as an attempt to cover up the violent crackdown on protesters, a charge the government rejects. Reports suggest that a plan for permanent internet isolation was orchestrated by high-level officials. UN experts have affirmed that even in times of conflict, communications “kill switches” can never be justified under human rights law, given the harm inflicted on civilian populations.
Whatever one’s view of the political justifications, the economic damage is not disputed - even by the government. The Communications Minister acknowledged the shutdown was costing the economy $35.7 million a day, while independent analysts place the true figure, including indirect losses, significantly higher. Online sales fell by 80%, and total losses have now surpassed an estimated $2.6 billion, according to NetBlocks. Around 2,000 digital companies are estimated to have only one to two months of survival left, with platform sales down 40–70%.
The most politically divisive dimension of the blackout has been the emergence of “Internet Pro” and the “white SIM card” system, granting privileged international internet access to select individuals while the general population remains cut off. This has divided Iranian society into two distinct classes: a digital elite with fast, unfiltered channels, and ordinary citizens confined within heavy filtering and the black-market VPN economy. The scheme has now triggered a formal judicial investigation.
Chief Justice Mohseni Ejei convened an emergency session with the Attorney General, the head of the National Inspection Organization, and the Communications Minister. With reports of officials selling white SIM cards for large sums, both the Attorney General and the Communications Minister confirmed that violations are “definite and certain.” The Chief Justice warned that such conduct must be prosecuted and that the perception of discrimination “strikes public opinion like a hammer,” cautioning that it could undermine public trust in the state at a critical moment. Defenders of the scheme argue that Internet Pro was designed as a practical mechanism to keep essential businesses and institutions functioning during a genuine crisis, not unlike emergency communications protocols used in other countries. Critics counter that its implementation has been captured by political interests, turning a crisis measure into a vehicle for corruption and class division.
President Masoud Pezeshkian also announced that he had directed First Vice President Mohammad Reza Aref to seek to address public expectations on internet access, factoring in security sensitivities, the Supreme Leader’s position and his prior commitments to end internet filtering and blackouts.
The current standoff reflects a genuine fracture within the Iranian system. Moderate government figures, including the Communications Minister and the Deputy President for Science Affairs, have publicly advocated for restoring access. The judiciary has launched an investigation into its abuses. Yet the security bodies that ordered the blackout have not released their grip and, under Iran’s constitutional structure, they are not required to answer to the ministries pushing for change. The government’s spokesperson has promised that the internet will return to normal conditions. The Communications Ministry says it is working around the clock toward that goal. But the ministry has also acknowledged that normalizing internet access falls within the authority of the security establishment, not elected officials.
Iran’s 73-day internet shutdown is more than a civil liberties controversy. It is a stress test of the Islamic Republic’s internal coherence, pitting security hardliners against economic pragmatists, and raising questions about who, ultimately, governs. Both sides of the debate invoke legitimate concerns, security and sovereignty on one hand, human rights and economic survival on the other. What is harder to dispute is the scale of the damage: to the economy, to public trust, and to the credibility of a government that has promised restoration while another week passes without it.