A digital security expert warns that Iran is replacing the right to internet access with a class-based system of privileged connectivity.
Amir Rashidi, a digital security expert, warns in this conversation with Zamaneh that the internet in Iran is changing in its very nature. He argues that military attacks and political tensions have given the authorities a golden opportunity to finalize the old plan of “classified access”; a system in which access to the free world is no longer a right, but a privilege distributed according to occupation, age, and social standing. Rashidi believes we must prepare ourselves for the worst-case scenarios.
The prolonged disruption of the internet in Iran, as NetBlocks data show, has become a stable and structural condition; a condition that, having now passed 55 days, ranks among the longest cases of “digital blackout” in countries connected to the global internet. The recording of more than 1,272 hours of outage or severe disruption is not merely a quantitative indicator of this crisis, but also a sign of a shift in the state’s approach to the internet as a public infrastructure.
Under such conditions, what matters even more than the disruption itself are its multilayered consequences: from the economy to the social structure and even the public perception of the country’s condition. Reports published by outlets such as Reuters show that internet restrictions have directly intensified livelihood anxieties and deepened the sense of uncertainty in society. This concern does not stem only from the disruption of communications, but from the reality that in recent years the internet has become one of the main pillars of the economy and employment, and that removing or restricting it brings with it a chain of economic dislocations.
At the micro level, businesses dependent on international markets or even social media have faced the loss of foreign customers and the interruption of foreign-currency income streams. For startups and small businesses in particular, this means suspension or even the complete destruction of their activity. At the macro level as well, some estimates speak of multi-billion-dollar losses.
Alongside this, the social and human rights consequences are also significant. Restricting internet access disrupts the free flow of information and reduces the possibility of tracking the condition of detainees or carrying out independent reporting. This becomes especially serious in conditions where official transparency is limited, and can leave families and public opinion in a state of ambiguity and uncertainty.
Yet perhaps the most important transformation here is the gradual consolidation of a pattern of “selective access” to the internet; a pattern now being implemented through schemes such as “Internet Pro.” In this framework, the internet is no longer defined as a universal right, but is being turned into a permission-based service whose availability depends on people’s occupational, economic, or institutional position. Current reporting suggests that “Internet Pro” is not simply a technical support package for commerce, but a whitelisted access regime in which approved sectors receive more stable and less-filtered global connectivity through chambers of commerce, licensing structures, and telecom operators. State-linked media have described it as a specialized option for “professional activity,” while digital-rights monitors trace it to a longer policy trajectory aimed at carving out privileged channels for selected groups rather than restoring open access for everyone.
On Monday, April 20, 2026, reports emerged that the Secretariat of the Supreme National Security Council, in a decision that formed the basis for implementing the “Internet Pro” scheme, had set a new framework for selective access to the international internet for businesses. On the same day, Reza Alizadeh, head of the Parliament’s Industries and Mines Commission, announced that in the first phase, holders of commercial cards had gained stable access to the international internet through the Chamber of Commerce; in the next phase, organizations and institutions connected to production and trade were also connected to this network, subject to “security considerations.” He emphasized that any decision regarding the expansion or restriction of these forms of access ultimately rests with the Supreme National Security Council. Within this same framework, mobile phone operators have also been required to implement the “Internet Pro” scheme.
Statements by officials such as Reza Alizadeh suggest that this process is likely not temporary, but part of a structural policy decided at the security level. The practical outcome of this approach is the emergence of a form of class-based internet: a system in which one part of society has access to stable, international internet, while the majority of users are left with severe restrictions, high costs, and unsafe tools for connection. It is class-based because connectivity is no longer distributed on the basis of equal citizenship, but according to institutional standing, purchasing power, and proximity to approved sectors. Holders of commercial cards, licensed businesses, and those tied to recognized institutions receive superior access, while ordinary users are pushed toward degraded service, expensive circumvention tools, and opaque markets. In this sense, the state is not simply restricting the internet; it is stratifying it.
This gap not only deepens digital inequality, but also fuels the growth of opaque markets, such as the market for selling VPNs, and even increases security risks for users.
Overall, it appears that what has taken place over these 55 days and up to now is a sign of a paradigm shift in internet governance in Iran. If consolidated, this paradigm could have consequences far beyond communications, affecting the economy, society, and even the relationship between citizens and the structure of power.
In our conversation with Amir Rashidi, a digital security expert, we explored these transformations. He points out that one of the key issues is that what is today being discussed under names such as “Internet Pro,” “legal VPN,” or “class-based internet” is not in fact a new phenomenon, but a project that, in his words, has existed in official policymaking for at least seven or eight years, with its infrastructure gradually prepared over time. In Rashidi’s view, the recent war has merely acted as an “accelerator,” providing the political will necessary for the full implementation of this scheme.
Rashidi explains that the main shift has occurred not merely at the technical level, but at the level of the definition of “right” and “privilege.” In this new model, he says, the internet has become a privilege that can be selectively allocated; a privilege granted according to individuals’ personal or occupational characteristics. This means that some users may have access to parts of the internet that remain blocked to others, while broad segments of society are effectively deprived of free access to information.
Rashidi says:
We are entering a domain in which the internet is no longer recognized in Iran as a “right,” but rather as a “privilege.” Put simply, this approach means that people’s access to online content will be classified on the basis of occupational status and, probably in the future, according to factors such as gender, age, educational level, and similar criteria; in such a way that some groups will only be permitted to view specific parts of internet content and will be barred from accessing other parts. What was once predicted as “the future of the internet in Iran” has now become the present reality. In short, the consequence of this process is that the very notion of a “right to internet access” will no longer exist in Iran, and will be replaced by an “access privilege.”
Rashidi goes on to point to the practical consequences of this shift, saying that even under conditions in which people imagine the internet has been “restored,” traffic indicators show that real access has sharply declined. Referring to the period after the January 2026 uprising, he explains that although VPNs were active, the overall volume of the country’s internet traffic had fallen by about 50 percent; a sign that a large share of users had in practice been pushed out of the access cycle. In his view, even if the internet returns in relative terms in the near future, it is unlikely that conditions will return to the previous state, and this same pattern of limited and unequal access will most likely continue.
The Future of VPNs and the Access Divide
We asked him whether censorship-circumvention tools can still guarantee free access. He says that in the short term these tools may still retain some relative effectiveness, but in the long term, as the infrastructures for control and traffic management are completed, even this limited level of access could disappear. In other words, the scenario in which only one segment of society has access to the global internet could gradually become entrenched. As Rashidi notes
I believe that in the not-too-distant future communications will be cut off, though we may not witness this in the immediate future. For example, we saw that after the events of the January 2026 uprising, while the general perception was that the internet had been restored and many VPNs were active and being used by users, an examination of Iran’s total incoming and outgoing traffic showed a 50 percent drop. In other words, despite the internet having been reconnected and VPNs functioning, half of the network traffic had been lost. This situation belonged to the period before the U.S. and Israeli attack on Iran. If we imagine that tomorrow an agreement is reached in Pakistan or anywhere else, the war ends, and the internet is restored, then at best we will see conditions similar to those after the January 2026 uprising; meaning that we will probably face a 50 percent traffic drop. Under such conditions, VPNs will probably still work, but as I mentioned, I believe that in the long term we must prepare for a situation in which even that remaining 50 percent of traffic may no longer exist.
In our conversation with Amir Rashidi, we also addressed one of the terms much discussed these days: “configuration selling.” Rashidi explains that a “configuration” is in fact a file or set of settings that tells a VPN application how to connect to a specific server. But the crucial point is that, under current conditions, these services are being provided from inside Iran, and according to him, this is practically impossible without special access or possession of Starlink. He raises two main scenarios: either the providers of these services have some form of access to official and “whitelisted” infrastructure, or they are using tools such as satellite internet. In both cases, what has taken shape is an opaque market with high financial turnover, in which access to the internet has itself become a commodity that can be bought and sold. As Rashidi remarks:
Usually there are only two possibilities. One is people who, in one way or another, have connections to the structure and apparatus behind internet shutdowns and filtering, and in fact their servers have been cleared, whitelisted. The other group consists of those who have Starlink, or who are operating on Starlink and using it to create and sell these VPNs. Or there are people who have Starlink and simply want to help, and make these tools available to people for free. Broadly speaking, it does not fall outside these two possibilities: either you are connected in some way to a place from which you can benefit from corruption and discrimination and make money, or you have taken that risk, you have Starlink, and you are providing these services through the Starlink connection you have.
As for the security of these tools, Rashidi emphasizes that there is no definitive answer. According to him, the level of security depends on a range of factors, including the degree of trust in the provider, the technical implementation, and the type of attacks that may be carried out. In the simplest case, the provider can see which services the user connects to, but in more complex scenarios it may also be possible to access or manipulate the content of communications.
In response to the question of whether this situation can continue, Rashidi believes that the Iranian government has been preparing for such a scenario for years, and that economic costs alone are unlikely to be enough to stop this policy; especially under conditions in which larger crises, such as military tensions or international pressure, are already underway.
In his view, hoping that economic pressure alone will lead to the reopening of the internet is not particularly realistic. Instead, he emphasizes that users and activists must prepare themselves for the “worst-case scenarios”; a scenario in which free internet is no longer a default condition, but a limited, unstable, and unequal possibility. As Rashidi states:
They have been preparing for such conditions for years, and unfortunately the warnings we gave did not prove very effective. That is why I do not think that simply hoping it creates economic costs can be enough to stop such a system. Right now you are in a wartime situation. If the closure of the Strait of Hormuz and U.S. policies continue, I doubt that the country’s economic situation can remain stable for more than one or two months. As a result, you are in a position where you are dealing with far greater problems. If we are talking about the economy, I do not think this can provide much hope that economic pressure might reduce the restrictions. I am not very hopeful about such a scenario, and I think it is absolutely urgent that we change our strategies and, based on the new conditions, consider new methods and new strategies and prepare for the worst-case scenarios.
