H. M. Nazmul Alam :
As Bangladesh advances its ambition to become a smart nation, the entry of Starlink-Elon Musk’s satellite-based internet venture-has sparked hope for a long-elusive dream: universal internet access. With the ability to beam broadband-quality internet from low Earth orbit (LEO) to the most remote corners of the world, Starlink seems like the perfect solution for bridging our urban-rural digital divide.
But a deeper look reveals that the arrival of this futuristic infrastructure could be more than just a technological breakthrough-it could be a geopolitical, economic, and regulatory disorder in disguise. In our pursuit of progress, are we also opening a door to foreign control over our digital skies?
Let us first appreciate the magnitude of the technology. Starlink relies on a constellation of thousands of satellites orbiting closer to Earth than traditional geostationary satellites. This proximity reduces latency, allowing for faster, more reliable internet-even in the hills of Bandarban or char areas of Kurigram. It sidesteps the physical limitations of laying fiber-optic cables, making it an attractive solution for a country still grappling with infrastructural gaps.
But as Arthur C. Clarke once said, “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” And magic, unless understood and regulated, can be dangerous.
Starlink does not operate like traditional internet service providers. Instead of routing data through local infrastructure, it uses its satellites and ground stations-often located in other countries, most notably the United States. This means data generated in Bangladesh could easily bypass our jurisdiction entirely, transmitted and stored in foreign data centers, governed by foreign laws.
Herein lies the first major concern: data sovereignty. Who owns the data when it doesn’t even touch Bangladeshi soil? Can our law enforcement agencies access communication logs or user information during a criminal investigation? If militants, money launderers, or transnational actors were to exploit this unregulated, encrypted satellite network, would Bangladesh have any oversight at all?
India, recognizing this risk, acted swiftly. In 2021, its government directed Starlink to cease operations until it acquired proper licenses. This wasn’t mere bureaucracy-it was a matter of national security. There were fears that such an opaque network could be used for encrypted communication in sensitive regions like Kashmir. The move signaled that even technology giants must operate under sovereign rules, not above them.
Similar caution has been observed across Europe. France, the UK, and Germany have demanded regulatory compliance from Starlink before allowing commercial operations. France, in particular, required guarantees on spectrum management and emergency service protocols, while the UK’s Ofcom scrutinized Starlink’s impact on national telecom networks.
Bangladesh is, by comparison, less prepared. Our telecom regulations-still largely designed for terrestrial services-are ill-equipped to handle a globe-spanning network that exists beyond conventional borders. Without strong legal frameworks, we risk becoming a passive consumer of a foreign monopoly, unable to influence how it operates within our own territory.
This vulnerability is not hypothetical. In Latin America and parts of the US, reports have emerged of Starlink being used by organized criminal groups to set up secure, mobile communications in remote areas. These terminals, small enough to fit in a backpack, allow users to establish encrypted networks beyond the reach of local authorities. Cyber security expert Bruce Schneier’s warning rings loudly here: “Complexity is the worst enemy of security.”
The economic concerns are no less critical. Currently, Starlink’s hardware costs between $349 and $599, with a monthly subscription of $120. In a country where the average monthly income is a fraction of that, who is this internet really for? Kenya successfully negotiated a reduced-cost model with Starlink and pushed for mobile-money integration via M-Pesa. Bangladesh must take similar steps-ensuring affordability, not just accessibility, so rural students and entrepreneurs aren’t left watching the stars while others download from them.
There is also the matter of our own telecom ecosystem. Over the past two decades, local ISPs and mobile operators have invested heavily in building networks across the country. Unchecked entry of a global player with no local investment obligations could undercut these businesses, destabilizing the sector and causing job losses. Competition is welcome-but fairness must be enforced. We cannot allow our digital infrastructure to become another casualty of tech imperialism.
On the diplomatic front, the implications are even more delicate. If Bangladesh opens up to a US-based satellite network like Starlink without ensuring strategic balance, how will regional powers respond? China, for instance, is developing its own LEO network, the GuoWang constellation. India, too, has ambitions in this space. Satellite internet is no longer a neutral tool-it is fast becoming an instrument of geopolitical influence. As Edward Snowden pointed out, “The most dangerous government is the one that believes it is exempt from its own laws.” That warning extends doubly to foreign corporations operating in the void between national regulations.
Yet the answer is not to reject Starlink or similar innovations. The benefits-if managed well-can be transformative. Rural clinics could have real-time access to telemedicine. Online education could finally reach students in the haor regions. Farmers could use smart tools powered by reliable, real-time data.
But this requires negotiation-not submission. Bangladesh must assert its sovereignty, mandating that Starlink comply with local licensing, establish ground stations in the country, and route data through domestic infrastructure. Regulatory transparency, emergency compliance protocols, cyber security audits, and fair-pricing mechanisms must be part of any approval deal. We can also take lessons from other nations in integrating satellite internet into national digital strategies, without sacrificing control.
William Gibson once wrote, “The future is already here-it’s just not evenly distributed.” Without strong policy intervention, Starlink could deepen rather than dissolve our digital divide, benefiting only urban elites or global corporations, while rural communities remain locked out by cost, language, or relevance.
Bangladesh’s skies must not become the new Wild West of unregulated technology. Starlink’s arrival is an opportunity-but only if we remain clear-eyed and sovereign in our response. Connectivity without control is a hollow gain. As we look to the stars, we must remember to keep our feet firmly on the ground.
(The writer is an Academic, Journalist, and Political Analyst. He can be reached at nazmulalam.rijohn@gmail.com)
