Lebanon is once again at the center of a heated debate, this time over the government’s recent decision to grant Elon Musk’s Starlink a license to provide satellite internet services throughout the country. The move, announced by Information Minister Paul Morcos during the week of September 13, 2025, has drawn both celebration and sharp criticism, reflecting the nation’s deep divisions over technology, security, and sovereignty.
For years, Lebanon has struggled with crumbling infrastructure, frequent electricity cuts, and an economic crisis that the World Bank has called one of the world’s worst since the 1850s. The situation worsened after the economic meltdown that began in late 2019 and was further exacerbated by the 14-month Israel-Hezbollah war, which ended in November 2024, leaving much of the country’s infrastructure in tatters. Against this backdrop, Starlink’s arrival promises to revolutionize internet access for millions of Lebanese who have long endured unreliable connectivity.
According to the Associated Press, the licensing of Starlink comes nearly three months after Elon Musk spoke by telephone with Lebanon’s President Joseph Aoun, expressing his interest in Lebanon’s telecommunications and internet sectors. The government’s decision also coincided with the appointment of new regulatory authorities for the country’s electricity and telecommunications sectors—a move long demanded by international organizations as a key reform.
Yet, not everyone is convinced that the Starlink deal is a step forward. As reported by Tehran Times, critics have accused the Lebanese government of disregarding security reports warning that allowing Starlink to operate could mean internet access is diverted outside the oversight of the Ministry of Telecommunications. Some fear this could facilitate espionage and unauthorized communication with Israel, given that Starlink is owned by Elon Musk, who is described by some local voices as a major supporter of Israel.
These concerns are not merely hypothetical. Sayyed Ibrahim al-Moussawi, head of the Parliamentary Communications Committee, has been a vocal opponent of the contract, warning that “contracting with this company, or any other company, in this manner is a concession that requires a law unanimously passed by the House of Representatives, ensuring the public interest and the treasury.” He has repeatedly criticized Telecommunications Minister Charles Hajj for pushing forward with what he calls a “consensual contract” without adequate legislative oversight, especially given the security concerns flagged by specialized agencies.
Adding to the controversy, some Lebanese media outlets allege that the deal violates both the Public Procurement Law and the Telecommunications Law (No. 431/2002). The critics argue that the government’s move undermines the principles of digital sovereignty and could open the door to foreign surveillance. According to Tehran Times, “Starlink will be able to divert internet access from abroad without any security oversight, facilitating espionage and communication with the Israeli enemy.”
Financial concerns also loom large. Estimates suggest that the public sector could lose approximately $5.9 million in treasury revenue during the first year of the contract, while private internet companies might face losses of about $1.1 million per month. Critics contend that the privatization of the telecommunications sector, as pushed by Minister Hajj, is being done “without any real return to the national treasury.”
At the same time, the government’s supporters argue that such drastic measures are necessary to address Lebanon’s decades-old infrastructure failures. State-run Electricite du Liban (EDL), for example, has been described as one of the country’s most wasteful institutions, plagued by political interference and inefficiency. According to AP, EDL has cost the state about $40 billion since the end of the civil war in 1990, and the naming of a regulatory authority for the sector—a move delayed for over 20 years—is seen as crucial to addressing the annual waste of over $1 billion.
Since taking office earlier this year, President Joseph Aoun and Prime Minister Nawaf Salam have pledged to implement reforms and fight corruption to pull Lebanon out of its economic quagmire. The recent Cabinet session that approved the Starlink license also saw the appointment of new regulatory bodies, a step that international lenders and organizations have long demanded as a precondition for aid. In April 2025, the World Bank announced a $250 million loan to Lebanon to help ease the chronic electricity cuts that have long plagued the country.
But the Starlink deal has become a lightning rod for broader anxieties about Lebanon’s future. Some see it as a necessary leap into the digital age, while others view it as a reckless concession that endangers national security and the public interest. The issue has even become entangled with Lebanon’s ongoing regional conflicts. Critics point to more than 4,000 violations of Lebanese sovereignty and around 260 martyrs since the October agreement last year, arguing that the government’s focus should be on protecting the nation rather than opening its digital doors to foreign companies.
The debate has also been colored by recent events, such as the release of Mohieddine Hasna, who was convicted by a military court for allegedly handing over pager data to Israel. His case has been widely discussed in the media, with some Gulf-backed channels airing extended segments on his alleged innocence. For critics, Hasna’s release is yet another sign of the government’s lax approach to security, while supporters argue that Lebanon must move forward and embrace modernization if it is to survive.
For ordinary Lebanese citizens, the stakes are high. The promise of reliable, high-speed internet could transform everything from education to business, offering hope in a time of deep economic despair. But the fears of surveillance, loss of control, and financial instability are equally real. As one observer put it, “The government has achieved nothing but stubbornness, neglecting Lebanon’s interests, and showing no mercy to the pleas of the people of the South and the Bekaa, who are suffering under the series of aggression, nor to the voices of the families of the prisoners held by the enemy.”
As Lebanon stands at this crossroads, the Starlink saga encapsulates the country’s broader struggle: how to balance the urgent need for progress with the imperative to safeguard its sovereignty and public interest. The coming months will reveal whether the gamble pays off—or whether it deepens the divisions in a nation already stretched to its limits.
