As Bangladesh stands at the edge of an ambitious digital transformation, the introduction of Starlink -- SpaceX’s satellite-based internet constellation -- has ignited both immense promise and mounting concern.
Elon Musk’s low Earth orbit (LEO) internet network, often addressed as a marvel of modern engineering, is designed to deliver high-speed, low-latency connectivity to the most remote corners of the globe. While this innovation aligns with Bangladesh’s aspirations of inclusive digital growth, especially in rural and underserved areas, it simultaneously introduces a complex lattice of risks that go far beyond bandwidth and signal reach.
In a time when digital sovereignty has become inextricable from national sovereignty, the deeper issues surrounding data security, surveillance, regulatory frameworks, and geopolitical balance demand urgent and critical examination.
There is no doubt that the technology behind Starlink is revolutionary. It bypasses traditional infrastructure constraints by using a swarm of small satellites orbiting closer to Earth than traditional geostationary ones, thus enabling faster data transmission.
In countries like Bangladesh, where terrain, bureaucracy, and infrastructural disparity impede widespread fibre-optic deployment, this could offer an almost magical leap forward. But every technological miracle comes with its shadow.
The fundamental question Bangladesh faces is not whether Starlink can work here -- it can. The question is, at what cost, and under whose control?
Unlike terrestrial ISPs, which are subject to national licensing, monitoring, and legal jurisdiction, Starlink operates independently through a global satellite network and proprietary data routing. Data from users in Bangladesh, under Starlink’s current model, would likely be transmitted through satellite nodes and ground stations outside the country's borders -- possibly routed through the United States or other allied locations.
This creates an invisible but critical rupture in the chain of national data custody. It no longer matters who owns the wires or towers on the ground if the packets of information never touch Bangladeshi soil.
This breach of data sovereignty raises critical issues. Who governs the privacy of user data in such a system? Can Bangladesh’s government compel Starlink to surrender records during criminal investigations or national security inquiries? If Starlink were used to facilitate secure communications for actors operating beyond the bounds of law -- from transnational drug cartels to extremist groups -- how would law enforcement respond, given their lack of jurisdiction over the satellite operators?
International scrutiny
In India, such anxieties prompted swift regulatory intervention. In 2021, the Indian government ordered Starlink to stop taking pre-orders and marketing their service until proper licenses were secured. This followed intelligence concerns that encrypted, satellite-based communications could be used in conflict-prone regions like Kashmir, bypassing national monitoring mechanisms.
India is not alone in this skepticism. Despite their advanced digital ecosystems, France, the UK, and Germany have introduced layered regulatory approvals for Starlink’s operations.
In France, regulatory bodies demanded technical compliance with spectrum management and emergency service protocols before allowing Starlink to function commercially. In the United Kingdom, Ofcom -- Britain’s communications regulator -- approved Starlink only after assessing the network’s impact on national infrastructure and security, emphasizing the need for transparency and cooperation.
Local ISPs and mobile operators have invested heavily in fibre-optic networks, mobile towers, and 4G infrastructure. A sudden influx of unregulated satellite competition could upend this ecosystem, leading to job losses, capital flight, and erosion of local innovation
Security concerns and control
In contrast, Bangladesh’s regulatory landscape is still in its infancy when it comes to satellite internet. The Bangladesh Telecommunication Regulatory Commission (BTRC) has made attempts to draft policy frameworks for non-geostationary operators, but the pace of technological development has outstripped legislative readiness.
The risk here is not merely bureaucratic lag but institutional vulnerability. As cybersecurity expert Bruce Schneier once noted, “Complexity is the worst enemy of security.” The more intricate and foreign-controlled a system becomes, the harder it is for national agencies to detect breaches, prevent misuse, or enact effective countermeasures.
Cybersecurity, in this context, is not a matter of speculative fiction. It is a lived reality. In 2023 alone, there were multiple reports from India and parts of Latin America that narco-traffickers and militant networks were exploiting Starlink’s portable terminals. These groups, equipped with Starlink dishes, were able to establish secure, mobile communication hubs in areas where traditional signals were either blocked or monitored. Such misuse is not a failing of the technology itself but of its governance. Elon Musk’s vision may be global, but state authority remains bounded by geography.
In Bangladesh, where unrest has periodically erupted and where digital surveillance has been employed as a tool of national security, Starlink’s autonomous operation could disrupt the balance of internal control.
If citizens in remote areas gain unrestricted internet access through an unregulated, foreign-managed network, the government may find it harder to impose legal curbs during emergencies.
This is not an abstract concern. During the Rohingya crisis and various periods of political unrest, Bangladesh has previously throttled or restricted mobile internet in sensitive zones to contain the spread of misinformation and unrest. Such a measure would be technically unfeasible with Starlink, unless Bangladesh gained full regulatory authority over its local deployments.
In this market?
Then comes the economic dilemma. Starlink’s hardware currently costs between $349 and $599, with a monthly subscription fee of about $120. For a nation with a per capita GDP around $2,500, this pricing model is unfeasible for the vast majority.
Kenya recently succeeded in negotiating lower-cost Starlink packages, following public demand and state-level advocacy. The Kenyan government’s strategic pressure forced the provider to introduce more affordable plans and integrate with mobile money platforms like M-Pesa.
Bangladesh must learn from this model if it is to ensure that the digital divide is not simply refashioned into a new form of elitism, where rural students, farmers, and entrepreneurs are locked out of connectivity due to cost.
Science fiction writer William Gibson once said, “The future is already here -- it’s just not evenly distributed.” Starlink, if left unchecked, could become the perfect embodiment of this paradox. Wealthy urban enclaves and international corporations could enjoy blazing speeds and uninterrupted access, while rural citizens remain tethered to slow, unreliable alternatives, or worse, entirely disconnected.
There is also a domestic industry to consider. Bangladesh’s telecom sector has grown steadily over the past two decades. Local ISPs and mobile operators have invested heavily in fibre-optic networks, mobile towers, and 4G infrastructure. A sudden influx of unregulated satellite competition could upend this ecosystem, leading to job losses, capital flight, and erosion of local innovation.
While competition often drives progress, a level playing field is essential. Unfettered access for a foreign monopolistic service could cripple local enterprises unless carefully regulated and balanced.
Bangladesh must craft laws that reflect the realities of space-age technology, not just terrestrial assumptions
International alignment
Equally troubling is the geopolitical dimension. If Bangladesh fully opens its skies to Starlink, how will regional powers respond?
China, with its own satellite ambitions under the “GuoWang” project, could view such a move as a tilt toward US-led digital dominance in South Asia. India may respond with heightened scrutiny or demands for reciprocal access.
Digital infrastructure is now a battleground for influence, and every decision has diplomatic reverberations. As Edward Snowden reminded the world, "The greatest danger to national security is the government that refuses to abide by its own laws." It is a sobering thought, particularly when the governing authority over critical communications infrastructure is no longer even located within national borders.
In such a scenario, Bangladesh must not fall into the trap of digital dependency. Instead of choosing between isolation and surrender, the country can pursue a hybrid model -- one that welcomes innovation but on sovereign terms. This would involve licensing conditions, local data routing, mandatory transparency agreements, and equitable pricing schemes. Satellite internet can indeed be a tool for empowerment, but only if it operates within a framework of accountability.
The challenge now is to act -- not react -- before decisions are made by default, by momentum, or by external pressure. We must engage Starlink as an equal negotiator, not a passive market. Bangladesh must craft laws that reflect the realities of space-age technology, not just terrestrial assumptions. It must invest in cybersecurity capacity and public awareness to ensure that the tools of connection do not become instruments of exploitation.
The future of Starlink in Bangladesh is not about access alone -- it is about autonomy. Connectivity without control is a hollow promise. To truly harness the benefits of this new frontier, Bangladesh must ensure that its digital skies remain just that -- its own.
HM Nazmul Alam is an academic, journalist, and political analyst. Email: [email protected]
