Access to internet as a fundamental right: Political, socio-economic, and legal perspectives

In July 2024, Bangladesh experienced one of the most consequential internet shutdowns in its history. What began as a state response to escalating student protests quickly spiraled into a nationwide blackout that lasted days, paralysing communication, commerce, education, and emergency services. 

It was a stark reminder that in the 21st century, the internet is no longer a luxury, rather it is the backbone of the modern daily life. The shutdown disrupted livelihoods, endangered lives, and exposed the fragility of rights in a digital society resulting in financial loss of hundreds of millions of dollars.

This moment has forced us to confront an urgent question: Should access to the internet be recognised as a fundamental right? The answer, convincingly, is yes.

The internet has evolved far beyond its origins as a communication tool. Today, it is the primary enabler of political, socio economic, and legal rights.

Citizens rely on the internet to engage in democratic processes, like accessing information, participating in public debate, monitoring government actions, and utilising e government services. During the July 2024 shutdown, Bangladeshis were cut off from real time updates, unable to verify information, and deprived of the transparency essential for democratic accountability. When political rights depend on digital infrastructure, denying access becomes a form of political disenfranchisement.

From online classes to mobile banking, job applications to telemedicine, the internet is the gateway to opportunities. Bangladesh has built a thriving ecosystem of freelancers, entrepreneurs, and small businesses dependent on connectivity. The shutdown froze mobile financial services, halted online marketplaces, and left students stranded mid semester. When the economy is digital, shutting down the internet is akin to shutting down the country.

Freedom of expression and the right to information are meaningless without access to the platforms where modern discourse occurs. The blackout silenced millions, not through censorship of content but through the elimination of the medium itself. In a digital-first world, the absence of connectivity becomes a direct assault on fundamental freedoms.

Several philosophical and legal frameworks support the argument that internet access must be elevated to the status of a fundamental right. From a utilitarian perspective, universal internet access maximises societal welfare. Studies consistently show that connectivity boosts GDP, enhances labour productivity, and expands access to essential services. Last year’s shutdown demonstrated the opposite: economic losses ran into millions, supply chains were disrupted, and digital services collapsed. If the “greatest good for the greatest number” is the goal, then ensuring uninterrupted access is a moral imperative.

In the modern public sphere, citizenship is increasingly digital. One must be connected to participating in society politically, economically, and culturally. Without internet access, individuals are effectively excluded from national conversation. Legal scholars argue that when the absence of an enabler (such as the internet) prevents the exercise of fundamental freedoms, that enabler itself becomes a right. Just as education is recognised as a right because it enables participation in society, internet access now plays the same role. Bangladesh’s experience illustrates this evolution vividly: without connectivity, rights that exist on paper become hollow.

The shutdown also exposed the unevenness of Bangladesh’s digital landscape. Urban elites found workarounds, like VPNs, alternative networks, or travel to connected zones, while rural and marginalised communities were left completely cut off. This mirrors the digital divide seen in under-developed nations where lack of access entrenches structural disadvantages.

Governments often adopt a “wait and see” approach, treating connectivity as a market-driven service rather than a public good. But the digital divide will not close on its own. States have a positive obligation to build infrastructure, ensure affordability, and protect access. In Bangladesh, where digital services underpin everything from remittances to education, this obligation is even more pressing.

International bodies, like the UN, have affirmed that internet access is essential for the enjoyment of human rights. Yet these declarations remain “soft law”, normative but unenforceable. Without binding legal frameworks, states can shut down the internet with impunity, as was done in Bangladesh in 2024. If states claim sovereignty over digital spaces, such as, regulating platforms, taxing digital services, policing online content, they must also guarantee access to those spaces. Sovereignty without responsibility becomes authoritarianism.

Some critics argue that the internet is a technology, not a right. But this view ignores the reality of a digital-first world. Electricity is also a technology, yet access to it is treated as essential because modern life depends on it. The consequences of disconnection are too severe to ignore.

Bangladesh’s July 2024 shutdown should be remembered not only as a moment of crisis but as a turning point. It revealed the profound dependence of modern society on digital connectivity and the vulnerability of rights when access is treated as optional. Recognising internet access as a fundamental right is not a symbolic gesture, it is a practical necessity. It demands that states treat connectivity as essential infrastructure, like water or electricity, protected by law and insulated from political manipulation. A rights based approach to internet governance is the only way to ensure that every citizen, regardless of geography, class, or political context, can participate fully in the digital age. The future of democracy, development, and dignity depends on it.

The author is chairman, Bangladesh ICT & Innovation Network (BIIN)