In Vietnam, a country where digital life hums beneath layers of regulation, the decision to block the messaging app Telegram wasn’t just another bureaucratic act—it was a signal flare in the growing global contest between state control and digital freedom. On May 21, 2025, Vietnam’s Ministry of Science and Technology instructed telecom operators to block Telegram’s operations nationwide, demanding compliance within ten days. The directive followed a sobering report by the Ministry of Public Security: more than 68% of Vietnamese Telegram channels were allegedly tied to criminal activities.
To the Vietnamese authorities, the numbers spoke for themselves. Of the roughly 9,600 Telegram-based groups and channels in the country, most were reportedly being used to orchestrate fraud, coordinate drug trafficking, and spread what the state deems “anti-regime” content. Encryption, a cornerstone of Telegram’s appeal, had become an enabler—not just of privacy, but, they argued, of impunity.
This wasn’t the first time Vietnam moved to tighten its grip on digital platforms. In recent years, Facebook and TikTok have faced their own reckonings with the Vietnamese government, pressured to scrub "toxic" content and submit to domestic content moderation rules. But Telegram, with its layered security and decentralized operations, posed a different kind of challenge—one that’s harder to regulate, harder to trace, and much harder to tame.
Telegram’s response came swiftly and carefully. The company expressed surprise and stated that it had fulfilled all requests for cooperation from Vietnamese authorities. Still, it confirmed receipt of the directive and committed to replying formally before the May 27 deadline. As with similar bans in other nations, the move highlights the frictions that arise when a government’s imperative for control clashes with a tech company’s ethos of open, encrypted communication.
But beneath the official statements and press releases lies something deeper: a quiet struggle over who gets to shape the future of communication in a digital world. In Vietnam, as in much of Southeast Asia, the internet is not simply a marketplace of ideas—it is a contested space, where control equals power and power determines narrative.

For Vietnam’s ruling party, national security is a non-negotiable. Officials argue that unfettered online communication, especially via encrypted platforms, offers fertile ground for misinformation, extremism, and organized crime. This is not paranoia, they insist, but pragmatism.
Yet critics of the ban raise alarms about its implications for freedom of speech and access to information. The broader concern isn’t just about one app being blocked—it’s about a pattern of digital authoritarianism taking hold under the guise of national interest. As Vietnam’s internet penetration deepens, especially among its youth, the tension between civic expression and state oversight becomes ever more pronounced.
The Telegram ban also comes at a time when Vietnam is striving to become a major player in digital transformation and AI governance. The irony is not lost on observers: even as the country hosts conferences on innovation and artificial intelligence, it is also building firewalls and tightening digital surveillance.
Still, this is not a story unique to Vietnam. From India’s temporary bans on Twitter to Russia’s clampdown on Western tech, the push-and-pull between state power and digital platforms is now a defining feature of our era. Telegram’s fate in Vietnam is simply another chapter in a much larger, global narrative.
In the coming weeks, the ban will take effect—or perhaps negotiations will shift its trajectory. But what’s certain is this: Vietnam’s move to block Telegram is not just about law enforcement. It is a declaration of intent, a statement about who gets to decide how—and by whom—the future of communication will be written.
And in this digital age, that decision may shape more than just our messages. It may shape our societies.