Voices from the blackout: Iranians cross to Turkey for internet access

Iran’s near-total internet blackout has deepened a humanitarian and informational crisis, compelling many citizens to make perilous trips to the Turkish border city of Van to access basic connectivity, interviews with those travelling and expert analyses indicate. National internet traffic has plunged to a fraction of ordinary levels after authorities severely restricted access across most of the country, leaving residents disconnected from each other and from the outside world.

Since the government first imposed sweeping communications restrictions in early January amid widespread civil unrest, efforts to suppress dissent and control information have crippled domestic and international internet access. Monitoring groups report connectivity at about 4 per cent of normal levels, largely due to targeted shutdowns and sophisticated jamming of satellite services, eroding the ability of families, businesses and activists to communicate or share firsthand accounts.

For Iranians near the northeastern border, crossing into Türkiye offers a fleeting lifeline. Van’s Kapikoy border gate, though not a major asylum point, has become a waypoint for those needing a Wi-Fi signal to conduct business, contact relatives or pursue education opportunities. Citizens enter without visas for short stays to upload content or reconnect with the digital world, then return home to see if domestic connectivity has eased. Individuals interviewed at the crossing said their work and studies depend on stable internet and that periodic trips to Van have become an unspoken necessity.

An e-commerce worker from Tehran described staying in Van for several days to catch up on business critical to his livelihood, before heading back across the border to his family. Another man, travelling with his brother, said he used his days in Türkiye to handle university applications that were impossible to complete inside Iran’s digital blackout. Both expressed reluctance to remain abroad long term, citing family ties and obligations at home.

While the border workaround provides temporary connectivity, it underscores the broader socioeconomic toll of the shutdown. Entire sectors reliant on digital platforms — from online commerce to education and freelance work — have been disrupted. Experts point to prolonged economic losses as businesses struggle to operate without reliable internet, compounding pressures from inflation and political instability.

The Iranian regime has defended the widespread restrictions as necessary for national security, framing them as protective measures amid external threats and internal unrest. Authorities have also deployed military-grade jammers that interfere with satellite internet services such as Starlink, making alternative access channels unreliable or dangerous to use. Some analysts contend these efforts reflect a broader strategy to control narratives and limit public organising during periods of heightened political tension.

Human rights advocates argue the blackout functions as a tool of repression. By cutting off civilian access to communication networks, they say, authorities aim to prevent the documentation and dissemination of evidence of abuses, including lethal force used during demonstrations. Reports from rights groups and exiles suggest that information blackouts have obscured the scale of state violence, making independent verification difficult and leaving outside observers reliant on testimony from those who find ways to bridge the digital divide.

Journalists covering the developments face formidable obstacles. With connectivity reduced to a sliver of typical levels inside Iran, reporters have resorted to encrypted messaging, satellite imagery and coordinated efforts with contacts abroad to piece together accurate narratives. These methods, fraught with risk, reflect the challenges of reporting from or about a country that is largely offline and effectively sealed from external scrutiny.

The continuing blackout has also strained personal relationships and community networks. Families separated by geography struggle to maintain contact, while social media platforms and messaging apps — once lifelines for diasporic communication — remain largely inaccessible without elaborate circumvention tools. Some expatriate networks supply anti-censorship software to users inside Iran, allowing limited access when possible, but these solutions are slow and unstable, and in some cases carry legal risks for those who employ them.