The Agony of the Presidency
The mask slipped from the face of institutionalized internet apartheid following the public revelation of "white SIM cards"—unrestricted, censorship-free mobile access reserved exclusively for state officials. In this column, Masoudnameh, we confronted President Pezeshkian with a straightforward question: If internet filtering is a protective necessity, why are state elites exempt from its bitter taste? And if unrestricted access is beneficial, why is the nation deprived of it? We suggested that the president surrender his privileged SIM card to experience firsthand the daily digital paralysis endured by ordinary citizens.
To his credit, the president acknowledged the critique. Speaking before students at Shahid Beheshti University, he announced directives to revoke privileged access for officials, conceding that "filtering is the nation’s greatest affliction." Yet he added a disheartening justification: "If this could be resolved by a presidential decree, I would have decreed it on day one."
How can a chief executive be certain of the outcome of a decree he has never issued? Why hesitate to issue an explicit executive order ending internet censorship? This reluctance fosters public suspicion that the administration lacks genuine resolve to dismantle the filtering regime.
The president’s real apprehension appears to be the fear of issuing an order that recalcitrant deep-state bodies might refuse to execute. That is the inherent agony of the Iranian presidency: bearing total public accountability without wielding unconstrained executive authority; having unaccountable factions slam the brakes on reforms while the historical wreckage is billed entirely to your name.
Yet statecraft demands confronting reality rather than evading it. Confronting fears is the foundational cure for political paralysis. The president must issue a formal, unambiguous decree lifting internet filtering. The outcome is binary: either the directive is implemented, ending institutional discrimination in a major victory for the administration; or recalcitrant entities obstruct it, exposing the true bottlenecks to the public and revitalizing the president’s social capital through unvarnished transparency.
Prolonged hesitation carries devastating costs. Foreign powers and tech conglomerates are not waiting for Tehran's bureaucratic consensus. Both the U.S. Congress and the European Parliament are actively crafting frameworks to deploy direct-to-cell satellite broadband and unmediated digital access to Iranian citizens.
When a state fails to meet the basic communicative needs of its populace, citizens inevitably seek external alternatives. Ceding this ground means not only losing the technological contest on the international stage, but forfeiting the trust and loyalty of your own citizenry.
The choice is yours, Mr. President: continue enduring the agony of executive hesitation while external actors determine Iran’s digital destiny, or demonstrate courage, break the spell, and stand resolutely with the people.