Regime-run media accidentally expose the secretive power structure behind nationwide censorship and the discriminatory “white internet.”

The regime’s own media has inadvertently revealed the depth of hypocrisy and secrecy behind Iran’s internet censorship machine. As public anger over the discriminatory “white internet” grows, insiders and state-run outlets have begun exposing internal conflicts, contradictory postures, and a desperate attempt by authorities to hide responsibility for a policy that has crippled the lives of millions.

Reports from outlets such as KhabarOnline and Shargh reveal that decisions affecting the online freedoms of more than eighty million Iranians are concentrated in the unelected Supreme Council of Cyberspace, a body dominated by security, military, judiciary and propaganda figures loyal to the regime’s command structure.

While the government’s representatives publicly posture against filtering and claim to support open access, their colleagues behind closed doors align with entrenched interests determined to preserve the regime’s censorship apparatus.

Even regime newspapers now admit that members sitting at the highest level of decision-making either refuse to take responsibility or hide behind abstentions to avoid accountability, a reflection of the deep fear of public backlash over years of digital repression.

Bahār News highlighted this hypocrisy through the remarks of former parliamentarian Gholamali Jafarzadeh, who condemned the discriminatory privilege system that gives regime insiders unrestricted “white internet” access while ordinary people suffer under suffocating censorship.

He warned that these blatant inequalities have pushed much of society toward distrust and resentment. In his words, the regime has behaved as if “people are captives and servants,” destroying the livelihoods of women heads of households, disabled workers and home-based earners who relied on online platforms.

Jafarzadeh described how millions were driven into dependency on VPNs while regime elites enjoyed unrestricted internet access. He even noted that if it were not for global technologies such as Starlink, the extent of the regime’s information blockade would have been far worse.

In another striking admission, Abbas Abdi acknowledged in Bahār News that filtering serves no purpose other than “harassing the people.” He questioned the very legitimacy of allowing political elites, officials and well-connected media figures to access the unrestricted digital sphere while denying it to the population.

Even he admitted that the so-called “journalist internet,” created during the Rouhani administration, was never a privilege but merely an exemption from a punishment that should not exist in the first place. His remarks confirmed that the censorship regime is built not on law or ethics, but on selective favoritism designed to keep critical voices under control while protecting the privileged.

KhabarOnline further exposed contradictions in the regime’s narrative. While the current administration claims to support opening access to global platforms, it has simultaneously reduced the number of unrestricted SIM cards by half during the past year.

Even as officials boast of lifting technical restrictions on foreign platforms, they tighten discrimination mechanisms that ensure full access remains the preserve of those linked to state institutions. This contradiction illustrates the core strategy of the regime: cosmetic promises of openness to appease public anger while quietly reinforcing the system of surveillance and control.

These revelations show that the regime’s internet policy is not shaped by law, public need or technological rationality, but by a political obsession with controlling information and preventing dissent.

The ruling establishment maintains censorship not because it protects society, but because it protects the regime. Even insiders now acknowledge what millions of Iranians have long known: filtering is a tool of oppression, privilege is reserved for the loyal, and the cost of this discriminatory system is paid entirely by ordinary citizens whose rights and livelihoods are sacrificed for the survival of the ruling elite.

As state media voices inadvertently expose the corruption and contradictions at the heart of Iran’s digital repression, the regime’s attempts to disguise its intentions grow weaker.

The divide between the rulers with unrestricted access and the nation forced into digital darkness has become too vast to ignore, signaling a broader crisis that no propaganda campaign can conceal.