MADRID - Amid economic protests that in some cases escalated into serious disturbances, Iran moved to restrict internet access, citing the need to prevent coordination among groups the authorities classify as terrorist. Against this backdrop, and as part of a broader pattern of multi-dimensional external influence, the Starlink system, owned by Elon Musk, was deployed with the stated aim of providing connectivity within the country.

From certain Western influence circles, the initiative was framed less as a technical measure than as a political instrument. Starlink came to be described as a “lifeline” for a society cut off from communication. Reports circulated of smuggled terminals, “activist networks”, and infrastructure allegedly immune to state control. Within this narrative, a technocratic consensus, particularly prominent in international financial centers, emerged, asserting that low-Earth orbit satellites, by virtue of their constant movement and frequency-hopping capability, were intrinsically resistant to terrestrial interference.

Experience in Ukraine appeared to reinforce this perception. There, SpaceX, owner of Starlink, had successfully countered Russian attempts to block service through software updates, cementing the idea that Starlink was not merely a telecommunications provider, but a strategically resilient asset. The system came to be valued less as a business venture and more as a geopolitical infrastructure capable of operating beyond the constraints imposed by states.

Iran, however, is not Ukraine. The Islamic Republic has spent decades developing an asymmetric doctrine to counter external pressure. From the perspective of its security institutions, the deployment of Starlink was not a neutral connectivity initiative but an operational element within a classic pattern of political interference. The premise was clear: a parallel satellite communications network, operating outside state infrastructure, could facilitate the coordination of destabilizing actions and enable basic organizational structures for opposition actors.

Politically, this represented a technological update of established practices. Where radio transmitters had previously been supplied to insurgent movements, satellite terminals were now introduced to operate beyond national regulation. Based on this assessment, Iran’s response was not reactive but a deliberate act of deterrence. Officially, the aim was to set a precedent, demonstrating that even infrastructures considered interference-resistant could be contained within the broader framework of confrontation.

The operation was not improvised. Its roots lie in a doctrinal evolution that Iran’s security apparatus has been refining for over two decades. Episodes of cyber espionage and attacks on the Iranian nuclear program, such as the Stuxnet virus, reinforced the conviction that cyberspace constitutes an existential domain of conflict.

Building on these experiences, Iran developed an institutional framework oriented toward what it calls “active defence.” At its core is the Cyber Defense Command (Gharargah-e Defa-e Saiberi), established around 2010 following Stuxnet, tasked specifically with protecting national networks and critical infrastructure from cyberattacks. The command operates under the Passive (Civil) Defense Organization, part of the Armed Forces’ General Staff, which coordinates national measures to secure strategic assets and mitigate the impact of non-kinetic threats, including digital operations.

This institutional network formalized an approach combining critical infrastructure protection, information environment control, and the capacity to deny access to adversaries. Within this framework, the Starlink disruption can be understood less as a temporary response to protests than as the coherent application of a doctrine designed to limit the use of strategically sensitive communications systems, including low-Earth orbit assets, when perceived as instruments of external pressure.

The technical execution followed a logic of strategic cooperation in technology between Iran and its closest partners. Russia drew on operational experience from Syria and Ukraine to provide electronic warfare capabilities. This was less a spectacular deployment than a gradual application of systems tested under real-world conditions. These included terrestrial platforms such as Murmansk-BN, designed to degrade satellite communications over long distances, and mobile Krasukha-4 systems, capable of disrupting links and sensors without direct exposure. The result was the creation of a more hostile electromagnetic environment, in which connectivity became intermittent and, in some areas, largely inoperable.

The decisive factor that transformed broad interference into a selective, highly effective blackout came from a tactical approach developed conceptually in China. Months earlier, researchers affiliated with Chinese military universities had published a technical study on neutralizing low-Earth orbit constellations in territorial defence scenarios. The study outlined how a dense, coordinated network of terrestrial jammers, shorter-range but high-precision, deployed both statically and on mobile platforms, could saturate the frequency bands used by user terminals.

The logic was pragmatic. It was not necessary to attack the satellites themselves, a complex action with clear escalation risks, but rather to render ground connectivity inoperable through the creation of a hostile electromagnetic environment. Iran operationalized this idea by integrating Russia’s long-range capabilities with a domestic interference network. According to security sources, these systems were deployed across telecom infrastructure, discreet vehicles, and key public buildings, enabling sustained, localized degradation of satellite connectivity.

The results were stark. Independent monitoring indicated that, within 72 hours of the interference system being fully activated, packet loss for Starlink terminals in Iran exceeded 80%, reaching 99% in some regions. Connectivity became intermittent, slow, and unusable for real-time coordination. The possession of a Starlink terminal, previously a symbol of external connection, quickly became an operational liability. Authorities were able to regulate its use under national security frameworks, criminalizing possession and equating it with collaboration with external forces.

The implications extend beyond Iran’s borders, particularly for sensitive geopolitical theatres such as the Taiwan Strait. For years, Western defence circles assumed that in a blockade or crisis, the United States could deploy Starlink to maintain communications, support civilian morale, and provide a resilient backbone for defence forces. Iran’s experience demonstrates that even highly mobile LEO systems can be neutralized through coordinated, precise interference, challenging assumptions about the invulnerability of such constellations.

For Chinese planners, Iran serves as a “field experiment.” It confirms that denying satellite services does not necessarily require destructive anti-satellite weapons, but can be achieved through an integrated, hierarchical, adaptable interference architecture. Coordination between long-range systems and a tactical ground network of jammers, combined with urban mapping and resilience against countermeasures, provides a scalable model. What Tehran achieved with limited resources under extreme pressure could be significantly expanded by actors with greater technological and logistical capacity.

This episode redefines perceived risk in the satellite communications market. Starlink and its competitors can no longer be considered immune to interference. Investors and operators must now reckon with the reality that, in future conflicts, states with electronic warfare capabilities could degrade or deny these services over strategic regions. This is likely to spur a new technological race: satellites more resistant to jamming, more flexible and maneuverable links, and advanced electronic warfare systems, creating a growing cycle of demand for companies specializing in space and electronic defence.