When a war breaks out, we all look to the sky. We look for any missiles or military aircraft. We strain our ears to hear any explosions. But we forget that war is often not fought through what we can see. Sometimes it begins with what suddenly disappears: the signal, the access, the information.
A global crisis may not start with an explosion. It may simply start with an unresponsive screen. Not just a disconnection from Instagram or TikTok. No sound. No warning. Just silence. The bank app doesn't open. e-Albania doesn't respond. Payments don't go through. Flights stop. Within hours, what seemed like a distant war "taps you on the shoulder" and says "here I am."
This is why we shouldn't worry so much about what the US can destroy inside Iran. The bigger worry is what Iran can destroy outside its borders, when it realizes it has lost this war. According to Reuters, Donald Trump has threatened to hit Iran "extremely hard," destroying civilian infrastructure like power plants, railways, bridges, etc. and taking the conflict to a new level of escalation.
If the United States were to launch a large-scale attack that destroys Iran’s critical infrastructure, it would not simply mean another round of military pressure. It would be an extreme situation. It would mean that the war has gone beyond military objectives and has become about destroying a country’s ability to function normally as a state. At such a moment, the logic of Iran’s response would also change. Tehran would no longer be asking how to achieve a battlefield victory against a superpower. It would be planning an even more drastic move: how to make the whole world feel the cost of this war. This is the moment when fiber-optic cables could be transformed into a geopolitical weapon.
If the situation escalates and civilian infrastructure is attacked, these cables become a real threat to the entire world. They are the invisible roads of the modern world. More than 99% of international data traffic passes through underwater fiber-optic cables. In simple terms, this means that money transfers, banking connections, trading systems, cloud platforms, official communications, business operations, media broadcasts and everyday digital life depend on them. They don't just support social media. They support the nervous system of the modern economy.
This is why, in an extreme scenario, the idea of ??Iran trying to “cut” the fibers cannot be dismissed as fantasy. Before jumping to conclusions, one must first judge what is most beneficial to Iran. Under normal conditions, cyberattacks are more beneficial to Iran for several reasons: they are cheaper, more flexible, hit targets with high precision, and responsibility can be easily denied. Iran has already shown that it knows how to use cyber power. Albania itself has experienced this fact. In 2022, US authorities publicly attributed destructive cyber operations against Albanian government systems to Iranian state actors. This precedent is very important. It shows us that for Tehran, digital attack is not just a theory or a threat. It is part of the instruments of action.
But if Iran faces the destruction of its own national infrastructure, the matter is different. At that point, the goal of retaliation may no longer be to target one country or another. The goal may be to shock the world. So they won’t be defeating the US in the classic military sense, but they may be trying to spread discord on a large scale, enough to be felt by every country in the world. In this scenario, cable sabotage becomes more plausible, because the logic is no longer “how to protect ourselves from collateral damage” but “how to make the world pay a terrible price.” This is the kind of shift that turns a regional war into a global crisis, without a single missile landing in Europe. This conclusion is consistent with the current dynamics of war that Reuters has described, where infrastructure threats, oil shocks, and growing economic fears are already reshaping the conflict far beyond the battlefield.
But what would happen if the fiber were cut? Not necessarily a Hollywood-style moment where the entire world goes dark. The more realistic scenario is more complicated and, in some ways, more dangerous. The world would become slower, more fragmented, more unstable, and unpredictable. International systems would begin to fail asymmetrically. Some services would continue, others would freeze, and still others would only partially function. Banks would exist, but transactions might slow down or become unverifiable or untraceable. Government platforms would remain up and running, but access to them might become insecure. Airlines, ports, customs systems, payments, digital archives, and corporate networks would begin to operate with delays, confusion, and even outages. Markets don’t need total disruptions to panic. They just need a little uncertainty. Reuters has already reported that the Iran war has pushed oil prices sharply higher and roiled global markets, with investors fearing greater damage to energy and supply systems.
This is where the ripple effect begins. When payments slow down, trade slows down. When trade slows down, prices rise. When prices rise, public anxiety rises. When official systems become unstable, rumors spread faster than facts. A fiber-optic outage scenario would not just be a connectivity problem. It would be a crisis of confidence. People would suddenly wonder if their money was safe, if government data was accessible, if flights would resume, if businesses could import or export, if hospitals could access their systems, and if the state was in control.
For Europe, this means disruption, but not necessarily collapse. However, for smaller and highly digitalized countries, the risk is greater. And Albania falls precisely into this category. Albania has moved most of its public services online. According to official information, more than 95% of public services are now accessed only online through e-Albania, which serves as the main gateway between citizens and the state. In normal times, this is an extraordinary achievement, which only a few countries in the world have achieved. But in times of crisis, what is called a strength can turn into a weakness. The more we depend on digital access, the more exposed we become when this access stops working.
For Albania, there is no risk that we could disappear from the digital map overnight. The damage is different: partial paralysis. The state is still there, but slower. Citizens may still have rights in the system, but they have a harder time exercising them. The data may exist, but it will become harder to recover. Online applications, tax services, customs procedures, the health system, permits, registries, the border system and other public functions may begin to be dragged down by delays or interruptions, precisely when citizens need security the most. In a country where physical counters have been replaced by digital access, an internet outage is no longer just another concern. The state's capacities are put to the test.
This is why Albania needs to think about national security on a broader scale than military. National security today means whether the state can continue to function when its digital arteries are under increasing pressure. This includes not only cyberattacks from abroad, but also a broader international disruption that disrupts the normal rhythm of public administration. Albania already knows that it is a target for Iranian cyber activity. So if the world enters a more extreme phase of the Iran conflict, distance can no longer be called protection. In this case, geography matters less, because the most effective weapons travel through networks, systems, and the fear they can inspire.
Prandaj, është mirë që qeveria të veprojë me mentalitetin e vazhdimësisë dhe jo atë të panikut. Detyrimi i parë është të sigurojë që shërbimet më të rëndësishme publike të mund të funksionojnë edhe kur mjedisi dixhital është i dëmtuar apo mund të mos funksionojë për një kohë të gjatë. Për këtë është e rëndësishme të bëhet i qartë dallimi midis shërbimeve që janë të rëndësishme dhe atyre që janë thelbësore. Në një krizë, shteti nuk ka nevojë që çdo portal të funksionojë në mënyrë të përsosur. Atij i duhet identiteti, kufijtë, doganat, sistemi shëndetësor dhe i emergjencës, koordinimi i policisë, të dhënat e regjistrit të gjendjes civile, funksionimi i thesarit dhe komunikimet themelore për të vazhduar pa konfuzion. Nëse Shqipëria e ka dixhitalizuar portën hyrëse të shtetit, tani duhet të ndërtojë edhe një derë të pasme për emergjencën.
Detyrimi i dytë është rivendosja e kapaciteteve të vjetra që shumë qeveri e kanë harruar: aftësia për të punuar manualisht kur sistemet nuk punojnë. Një vend bëhet i brishtë kur e merr për të mirëqenë se interneti do të jetë gjithmonë aty. Ministritë, bashkitë, portet, pikat kufitare, spitalet dhe zyrat e emergjencës civile duhet të dinë saktësisht se çfarë të bëjnë nëse sistemet janë të ngadalta, të ndërprera ose përkohësisht të paarritshme. Qytetarët nuk duhet të vihen në dijeni në mes të një krize se shteti nuk ka asnjë alternativë të shkruar në letër apo asnjë plan emergjence për raste të tilla. Shqipëria nuk ka nevojë të lërë pas dore reformën dixhitale. Ajo duhet ta bëjë atë reform, duke marrë parasysh që mund të përballojë strese të tilla.
Detyrimi i tretë është komunikimi me publikun. Në Shqipëri, çdo ndërprerje e internetit, sulm kibernetikm, sikur edhe në tentativë, kthehet menjëherë në spekullim. Në një krizë të tillë, thashethemet do të bëheshin një front i dytë problem për qeverinë. Prandaj, ajo duhet të jetë në gjendje të flaës më herët, më qartë dhe në mënyrë të përsëritur. Duhet të sqarojë se çfarë preket, çfarë nuk preket, cilat janë alternativat dhe çfarë duhet të bëjnë qytetarët. Në këtë rast, heshtja do të ishte e rrezikshme. Në një vend ku besimi është shpesh i brishtë, një boshllëk komunikimi mund të shkaktojë pothuajse aq dëme sa ndërprerja e internetit. Mësimi nga kjo luftë është se sulmet në infrastrukturë nuk krijojnë vetëm dëme fizike. Ato krijojnë një chaos narrative (sindroma që gjithçka është jashtë kontrollit).
And finally, Albania must treat this not as an isolated domestic problem, but as a matter of alliance. No small country can protect international digital lines alone. The answer lies in coordination with NATO partners, European states, telecommunications operators, and the companies on which digital governance increasingly depends. The more connected Albania becomes to digital systems, the more it depends on the sustainability of the broader system around it. This is the inconvenient truth of the digital age: sovereignty is no longer just about territory. It is also about continuity.
So if America destroys Iran’s civilian infrastructure on a large scale, Tehran may no longer care about winning in the sense of conventional warfare. It may care more about spreading the cost, confusion, and pressure beyond its borders. In such a scenario, “cutting” fiber optics becomes a real reckoning, not because it guarantees victory, but because it causes pain. And pain, in the logic of desperate states, could become a strategy in its own right. For the world, this would mean slower systems, financial stress, and growing instability. For Albania, this would mean something even more direct: a test that if a state that has been moved almost entirely online, can it still function when the screen no longer works?
It's true that we've built systems that make life faster, easier, and more efficient. We've also become more dependent on them than ever before.
So the question is not whether Iran can win a war against the United States. That is impossible. The question is, if Iran is pushed to the point of existential threat, how many of us can take it on ourselves. Because the next global crisis may not start with an explosion. It may start when everything just stops working.