Starlink and the Risks of Digital Power Politics in the Middle East

By Muad M Zaki.
Senior Fellow, Asia Middle East Center
For more than a decade, U.S. strategy has searched for ways to influence political outcomes abroad without repeating the political and human costs of direct military intervention. Wars are expensive, electorally damaging, and increasingly unpopular across Western societies. In this environment, technology has been elevated as a substitute for force, capable of applying pressure, shaping narratives, and sustaining political movements without crossing the threshold of armed conflict.
The confrontation surrounding Starlink and Iran exposes the limits—and dangers—of that assumption. What began as a non-kinetic experiment in influence has not only failed to deliver decisive outcomes but, has also accelerated military escalation while raising fundamental questions about sovereignty, international law, and the reliability of shared communications infrastructure for allies as well as adversaries.
At its core, this is not a story about satellites or bandwidth. It is about whether privately owned technology can be selectively deployed to advance state objectives without undermining the legal order it claims to support.
The Strategic Appeal of Starlink
From a U.S. strategic perspective, Starlink appeared to offer something unprecedented: a transnational communications layer that does not rely on domestic infrastructure and is therefore difficult for states to control. Satellite terminals operate independently of national networks, creating the perception that connectivity could be sustained even when governments attempted to shut information flows down.
Strategically, this offered three advantages. First, circumvention without invasion. Political pressure could be applied without troops or airstrikes, avoiding escalation and the costs of kinetic force. Second, persistence. Because the infrastructure was external, it was assumed to be resilient to state countermeasures. Third, political insulation. As a privately owned commercial service, Starlink could be presented as neutral technology even when its effects aligned closely with U.S. foreign-policy objectives.
In practice, Starlink functioned as a pressure-sustaining infrastructure, capable of maintaining internal connectivity during periods of unrest while preserving external narrative access. This role reflected operational decisions about where, when, and for whom access would be enabled.
Domestic Constraints and Strategic Incentives
These assumptions cannot be separated from political realities in Washington. For President Donald Trump, the costs of direct confrontation with Iran are not abstract. Military escalation in the Middle East carries clear electoral risks, particularly ahead of midterm elections, when public tolerance for new conflicts is limited.
This has produced a visible split within the U.S. policy establishment. On one side are interventionist factions pressing for decisive action against Iran, even at the risk of regional war. On the other are “America First” voices that view foreign conflict as a political liability and urge concentration on domestic priorities. In this context, technology-driven pressure appeared to offer a compromise: influence outcomes without triggering a war that could destabilize domestic politics.
The Miscalculation
What was underestimated was not Iran’s technical capacity alone, but the breadth of its statecraft, particularly its anticipation that non-kinetic pressure would be paired with covert, intelligence-driven efforts to destabilize its internal security environment.
Rather than attempting to destroy satellites or escalate militarily, Iran focused on denying usability within its territory. States do not need to control infrastructure globally; they need only control the legal, physical, and electromagnetic environment in which it operates domestically.
Iran combined electromagnetic interference, criminal enforcement against unlicensed communications equipment, and physical deterrence through confiscation and penalties. These measures raised the personal cost of reliance on the system and sharply reduced its strategic utility. Importantly, they fall squarely within established principles of international law governing spectrum regulation and telecommunications.
The Neutrality Claim and the Gaza Test
The episode also exposes a deeper inconsistency in claims that Starlink operates as a neutral or humanitarian platform.
If satellite connectivity were genuinely deployed to protect civilians, journalists, and medical workers during crises, Gaza would represent the clearest possible case for its use. For more than two full years, Gaza has endured sustained large-scale civilian destruction, the collapse of medical infrastructure, mass displacement, and prolonged information blackouts, conditions widely recognized as genocide under international law by United Nations investigative mechanisms and reflected in proceedings before international courts under the 1948 Genocide Convention.
Yet during this two-year period, Starlink did not provide unrestricted, civilian-focused access to doctors, hospitals, journalists, or humanitarian organizations operating under siege. This absence is not a technical oversight or logistical delay. After two years, it can only be understood as a deliberate political choice.
Selective deployment across crises transforms a technology from a neutral humanitarian tool into a discretionary instrument aligned with geopolitical priorities.
Alignment With U.S. Policy and the Risks Ahead
It is therefore reasonable to conclude that Starlink has been used selectively in ways that support U.S. foreign-policy objectives, including in contexts where those objectives conflict with international legal obligations. Under international law, particularly the Genocide Convention, states and relevant actors have a duty to prevent genocide where possible. Withholding a capability that could materially assist civilians during a legally recognized genocide, while deploying that same capability elsewhere to sustain political pressure, carries legal and normative significance.
History suggests that escalation rarely begins with overt military strikes. It is more often preceded by covert action, intelligence operations, and proxy dynamics designed to weaken a target state from within. The Syrian war offers a sobering precedent: networks activated for short-term leverage quickly escaped control, producing regional instability that far outlasted their original objectives.
A similar risk now looms in the context of Iran. Such tactics may appear to offer deniability and leverage, but experience suggests they carry profound risks.
Europe and Global Consequences
The most significant danger revealed by the Starlink–Iran episode is not escalation with Iran alone, but the normalization of digital infrastructure as an instrument of geopolitical coercion. When private technology platforms can be selectively enabled or withheld in line with strategic priorities, they cease to function as neutral commercial services and instead become extensions of state power.
For Europe, the implications are acute. European states are deeply exposed to energy volatility, inflationary shocks, misinformation and political fragmentation driven by external crises. Yet they are also increasingly dependent on U.S.-based private infrastructure that operates under American jurisdiction. The Starlink precedent raises an unavoidable question: if such technologies can be used selectively against adversaries today, what guarantees exist that they will not be leveraged tomorrow in moments of transatlantic disagreement?
This is not a hypothetical concern. The selective deployment of Starlink—active in some politically aligned contexts, absent during two years of legally recognized genocide in Gaza—demonstrates that access is shaped by power, not principle. Once that reality is acknowledged, trust in shared infrastructure inevitably erodes.
The danger ahead is not simply escalation with Iran. It is the normalization of a system in which communications infrastructure becomes another instrument of coercion—quiet, deniable, and increasingly difficult to trust—undermining the sovereignty of independent states and destabilizing the international order.
*Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of any organization, institution, or group with which the author is affiliated.

