In a move that has sent shockwaves through Afghanistan’s digital landscape, the Taliban leadership has imposed a sweeping ban on fibre optic internet in the northern province of Balkh, cutting off Wi-Fi access for homes, businesses, government offices, and public institutions. The decision, announced on September 16, 2025, marks the first time such a restriction has been enacted since the Taliban seized power in August 2021, and has raised urgent questions about the future of connectivity, commerce, and civil liberties under Taliban rule.
According to multiple reports from the Associated Press and corroborated by provincial officials, the ban was ordered directly by Taliban supreme leader Hibatullah Akhundzada. Haji Attaullah Zaid, the spokesman for the Balkh provincial administration, confirmed the shutdown and explained the rationale: “This measure was taken to prevent immorality, and an alternative will be built within the country for necessities.” While Zaid did not elaborate on what constitutes “immorality” or why Balkh was singled out, he made clear that the cable internet blackout is a “complete ban.”
For residents in Balkh, the sudden loss of Wi-Fi has been both bewildering and disruptive. One local, who requested anonymity out of fear of Taliban reprisals, described the abrupt onset of connectivity issues at home. Initially told by his service provider that it was a technical glitch, he soon learned the truth as the blackout persisted. “Blocking the internet is beyond my comprehension in such an advanced era,” he told the Associated Press. The resident’s household includes six people, among them a student, all of whom rely on Wi-Fi for work and education. Mobile internet remains technically available, but the resident noted it is often “slow and expensive.”
The impact goes far beyond personal inconvenience. The resident, whose work involves dealing with clients and companies outside Afghanistan, warned, “If this ban continues, it will not only be detrimental to my business but also to others because all our business is done on the internet. We do business with people in the outside world and maintain relationships through it. I might have to move from Mazar-e-Sharif (the capital of Balkh) to another province because I cannot afford the loss.”
For now, mobile internet services remain operational in Balkh, providing a lifeline—albeit a tenuous one—for those who can afford the higher costs and slower speeds. Yet, the future of even this limited connectivity remains uncertain. Afghan authorities have a history of suspending mobile phone networks, particularly during religious festivals, typically citing security concerns and the risk of militants detonating explosive devices remotely. However, as AP notes, a permanent shutdown of broadband fibre internet is unprecedented under the current regime.
The Taliban’s move comes against a backdrop of steadily increasing restrictions on information, entertainment, and personal freedoms since their return to power. Rights groups and international observers have repeatedly warned that such measures are entrenching Afghanistan’s isolation and exacerbating an already dire humanitarian situation. The ban on fibre optic internet, in particular, is seen as a significant escalation in the Taliban’s efforts to control the flow of information and enforce their interpretation of Islamic values.
Since August 2021, the Taliban have rolled back many civil liberties, with women and girls bearing the brunt of new rules limiting access to education, employment, and public life. The crackdown on internet access is widely interpreted as part of a broader campaign to suppress dissent, monitor communications, and restrict exposure to outside influences. As one rights group noted, such restrictions “worsen Afghanistan’s isolation and humanitarian situation,” underscoring the high stakes for ordinary citizens and the country’s struggling economy.
Despite the sweeping nature of the ban, key questions remain unanswered. Neither Zaid nor other Taliban officials have clarified why Balkh province was chosen for this pilot restriction, nor whether the ban will be extended to other regions. The promise of an “alternative” for internet necessities has also gone unexplained, leaving residents and businesses in the dark about what, if anything, might replace the lost connectivity.
For the private sector, the implications are grim. Afghanistan’s business community, already battered by years of conflict and instability, has come to depend on reliable internet connections to maintain ties with international partners, process transactions, and access global markets. The sudden loss of Wi-Fi is poised to disrupt everything from import-export operations to remote work, with ripple effects likely to be felt far beyond Balkh’s borders. As the anonymous resident pointed out, “All our business is done on the internet.”
Government offices and public institutions are also reeling from the blackout. With no cable internet, officials are forced to rely on mobile data—if available—to conduct essential functions, communicate with Kabul, and access digital resources. For students and educators, the loss of Wi-Fi is a major blow, especially in an era when online learning and research have become vital tools for advancement.
Public reaction has been swift and, in many cases, quietly outraged. While few are willing to speak on the record due to fears of reprisal, the sentiment is clear: the ban is widely viewed as a step backward, out of step with the needs of a modern society. “Blocking the internet is beyond my comprehension in such an advanced era,” the Balkh resident lamented, echoing the frustration of many who see connectivity as a basic right and a lifeline to the outside world.
The Taliban’s stated intent to prevent immorality by cutting off fibre optic internet raises broader questions about the group’s vision for Afghanistan’s future. Critics argue that such measures are less about morality and more about consolidating control—limiting access to news, entertainment, social media, and independent sources of information that might challenge the Taliban’s authority. In the absence of clear guidelines or a transparent process, many fear that further restrictions could follow, deepening Afghanistan’s digital divide and isolating its people even further from the global community.
As the dust settles in Balkh, the rest of Afghanistan—and indeed the world—watches closely. Will this ban remain an isolated incident, or is it a harbinger of more sweeping controls to come? For now, the people of Balkh are left to grapple with the consequences, forced to adapt to a new reality in which the simple act of going online has become fraught with uncertainty, expense, and risk.
The Taliban’s fibre optic internet ban in Balkh stands as a stark reminder of the fragile balance between security, morality, and freedom in Afghanistan today—one that, for many, feels increasingly out of reach.
