Questions by Ben Noble, responses by Nikolai Petrov.
Internet restrictions in Russia have become increasingly routine, including those affecting mobile networks. What are the different reasons for these mobile internet shutdowns in Russia? And what mitigations have been made?
Given the importance of internet access for day-to-day life, the authorities have developed a system of website ‘whitelists’ – online resources approved by the security services that are expected to remain accessible during mobile internet outages. Testing began in autumn 2025, and by March 2026 the authorities had begun implementing this system of ‘whitelists’, which have reportedly now been introduced in around 70 regions. A key requirement for inclusion on ‘whitelists’ is that all servers used by a service must be physically located within Russia.
From 6 March, shutdowns began to significantly affect Moscow as well – a notable shift, as the capital had previously been largely spared. For nearly three weeks, particularly in central districts of the Russian capital, users experienced disruptions to mobile internet services and communications. In some areas, access was restricted to a Ministry of Digital Development-approved ‘whitelist’ of websites; in others, connectivity was effectively cut off altogether.
Beyond official justifications for the shutdowns, which focus on security considerations, a number of conspiracy theories have circulated.
One such theory links the large-scale shutdown in Moscow to Vladimir Putin’s personal safety concerns following highly precise strikes by the United States and Israel at the outset of the war in Iran, in which the location of Iranian leaders was reportedly identified through analysis of their bodyguards’ communications.
How have Russians responded to the shutdowns?
Disruptions to mobile internet services are causing significant economic losses for businesses and are undermining the everyday lives of urban populations.
In major cities, these outages erode the image of advanced, efficient digital urbanism – particularly the model developed under Moscow Mayor Sergei Sobyanin.
According to Levada Center data, by the end of March 2026, roughly three-quarters of the Russian population had experienced problems with messaging services or mobile internet access. At the same time, the growing number of online restrictions has significantly complicated daily life for around 20 per cent of people.
What about the state blocking of Telegram?
In late February 2026, several Russian media outlets reported that the authorities were planning a complete block on Telegram – the popular messaging app, created in Russia in 2013, but now based in Dubai – by 1 April. While this did not materialise, many users in Russia found that the messaging platform had become inaccessible without using a VPN as early as March.
Since late February, an investigation has reportedly been underway against Telegram’s founder, Pavel Durov, under charges related to facilitating terrorist activity. Media outlets, citing materials attributed to the FSB, claim that the platform failed to remove a number of channels allegedly containing extremist content.
In early April, Durov publicly commented on attempts to restrict access to the platform in Russia. In a post on his Telegram channel, he framed the situation as a renewed phase of resistance to online censorship: ‘Welcome back to the Digital Resistance, my Russian brothers and sisters. The entire country is now mobilised to circumvent these absurd restrictions. Thousands of people are setting up VPNs and proxy servers.’ He added that ‘more than 50 million people in Russia have now joined the 50 million members of the Digital Resistance in Iran.’
A large-scale shift is underway from foreign messaging platforms to domestic alternatives, most notably the state-promoted app Max.
In just over six months, WhatsApp’s user base in Russia has reportedly fallen by more than half – from 70 per cent of the adult population in August last year to 28 per cent by the end of March. The share of Russians who use Telegram declined by roughly a quarter over the same period, from 62 per cent to 47 per cent. By contrast, the user base of Max increased sevenfold – from 6 per cent to 42 per cent of the adult population – bringing it close to Telegram in terms of reach.
Is the Presidential Administration worried that irritation and anger might grow?
The Kremlin closely monitors public sentiment, particularly in the run-up to federal elections; State Duma elections will take place in September.
Disruptions to mobile connectivity and restrictions affecting Telegram have generated widespread dissatisfaction – not only among the general public, but also among segments of the bureaucracy and officially sanctioned political parties. Social media platforms are filled with complaints and expressions of frustration. While some citizens have signalled a willingness to protest – including the somewhat mysterious ‘Scarlet Swan’ movement – such demonstrations have not been authorised by the authorities. Others have voiced their dissatisfaction by submitting petitions to the Presidential Administration.
The domestic political team in the Kremlin – led by Sergei Kiriyenko, First Deputy Chief of Staff of the Presidential Administration – is limited in how it can respond.
Just as the government’s economic managers have been compelled to adapt to military and political decisions taken with limited regard for their economic consequences, the Kremlin’s political team appears similarly constrained. In this case, it can do little more than attempt to mitigate the fallout from decisions driven primarily by the security services and the president himself.
Is this all a sign, as one recent piece in The Bell has put it, of the ‘system crumbling from within’?
The ‘sovereign internet’ agenda is being implemented in a somewhat dysfunctional and ad hoc way. But this likely reflects an attempt at accelerated implementation, rather than signalling a fundamentally incoherent policy.
For an authoritarian regime, all efforts to minimise external and potentially destabilising influences are strategically rational.
But two questions remain. First, what is driving the apparent urgency of these measures? It remains unclear whether the current push reflects a reactive response to perceived immediate threats – such as wartime vulnerabilities – or a proactive effort to establish a more tightly controlled information environment ahead of a politically sensitive electoral cycle. In practice, the distinction may be blurred: reactive security concerns can easily merge with longer-term ambitions to institutionalise digital sovereignty.
Second, there is the question of political risk. The cumulative effect of disruptions, restrictions, and forced technological substitution is generating broad-based public frustration, which cuts across social groups, including segments of the bureaucracy and politically loyal constituencies.
While authoritarian systems can tolerate a significant degree of public discontent, the current trajectory raises the possibility of a more diffuse form of resistance – less overtly political, but nonetheless corrosive.
The risk for the authorities lies not in immediate protest mobilisation, which remains overwhelmingly constrained, but in the gradual erosion of compliance and trust among ordinary citizens, who increasingly experience state policy as intrusive, disruptive, and an imposition ‘from above’.
