Did you know that over 95% of international communications and data transfers depend on global submarine cable networks? At first, this may seem like a small fun fact: what a curiosity! - the most advanced and revolutionary technology of our time is not based on satellites, but rather snakes along the seabed (why do we always associate modernity with space?). But if we take the time to consider the aspects of life that depend on this technology — finance, diplomacy, security, international cooperation — its critical importance becomes clear.
By Ada Ferraresi
This article is part of the Deepmed/ERC (European Research Council) research programme led by Lino Camprubí from the University of Seville.
In today’s tense geopolitical climate, cable breaks are increasingly attributed to acts of sabotage. In 2022, for example, the global web weakened due to intentional cuts to submarine cables in southern France – Marseille is a global hub for submarine data. Accusations of Russian sabotage followed. The vulnerability of this underwater infrastructure is raising alarms among governments, businesses, and the media. As noted in an article in The Guardian, these suspected attacks have put "European countries on high alert."
While this alarmism is not surprising, it is partly misplaced and potentially dangerous. Much of the current discourse implies that this threat is new, fueled by the explosive growth of global Internet traffic since 2013. Yet, submarine cable systems have existed since the 19th century. The first was laid in 1850 between Dover and Calais, followed eight years later by the first transatlantic cable. Within a few decades, much of the globe was connected by underwater lines, most controlled by British private companies.
Sabotage, a Military Strategy
Moreover, these narratives lack recognition that sabotage itself is as old as underwater communication. A recent specialized article states: “Previously unknown activities – such as … using fishing vessels as paramilitary forces; or exploring and patrolling the waters of other nations as a means of expanding sovereign claims - are examples of how Beijing is winning in the gray zone while its adversaries are still trying to diagnose the problem within their neatly categorized laws and norms.”
Historically, however, these activities were not only heard of but widely accepted as legitimate military strategies. During World War I, British, Austrian, German, and Italian forces all targeted submarine cables as a primary military strategy. Italian cable engineer Emanuele Jona described England's telegraphic blockade of Germany as "silenced," like an "unrelenting, inevitable, precise, and certain blockade — like an astronomical phenomenon: a blockade heavy with serious consequences — the blockade of telegraphic communications with the entire world.”
He detailed several incidents of sabotage: the Germans cutting cables from Africa to Australia, the Austrians cutting lines near the Tremiti Islands, and Italian forces targeting Ottoman cables connecting Constantinople to cities across the Eastern Mediterranean. An Italian operator recalls the order to cut the Austrian cable between Trieste and Corfu—"the only cable still operational among our enemies. The German cables to the north had all been cut by the British a few hours after the declaration of war with Germany.” Cable sabotage became an early and widespread military tactic in conflicts following the advent of the submarine telegraph, used by all nations — not just those in the gray zones of modern warfare.
Therefore, concerns about cable sabotage are understandable as today’s geopolitical scene approaches dangerous waters. However, they should not be understood as concerns about a new danger: we have lived under the threat of cable sabotage for 200 years! In fact, sabotage is so old that the International Convention for the Protection of Cables was signed in 1884 and remains the primary legal framework.
Means of Communication as Primary Targets of War
More concerning than the threat itself is the discourse surrounding it: submarine cables are presented as if they developed independently of the societies that created them, driven solely by the growing demand for the Internet. They seem autonomous — vulnerable, yet relentless. And if technology is perceived as independent, the laws governing it are too. To the extent that at the 2024 workshop of the International Cable Protection Committee (ICPC) on the Law of the Sea and submarine cables, when it came to discussing “whether states have the right to cut cables in the event of armed conflict,” it was established that, “due to historical reasons, cables are not considered neutral and could be the first targets of war.” This vulnerability, then, is not inevitable — it reflects legal and political choices made over the past two centuries. Law is made by man and can be changed; the fragility of the network is a matter of will, not fate. The point is that the benefits of the underwater environment have always outweighed the obstacles from the very beginning.
Despite its inaccessibility, the underwater space has long allowed land powers to act discreetly — beneath the waves, so to speak. This is particularly true for a geopolitically and topographically complex space like the Mediterranean Sea.
In the 19th and 20th centuries, British companies held a near-global monopoly on submarine telegraphy and were frequently commissioned to build underwater networks for other states. In the Ottoman Empire, which lacked the technological know-how for underwater cabling, British companies not only installed the infrastructure but also acquired detailed knowledge of its geography. This gave Britain privileged access to highly strategic information.
During the Italo-Turkish War (1911-12), fought for control of Libya, cutting enemy cables was an essential military tactic. Although Britain officially remained neutral, it discreetly aided Italy: as early as 1900, the Italian cable ship Città di Milano received British maps showing the location of Mediterranean cables. An operator of the time notes: "two representatives of the English Cable Company quickly boarded … leaving us in charge of a metal case containing nautical charts with the routes of all the cables that formed their vast Mediterranean network." That this occurred more than a decade before the war suggests strategic foresight. The British Empire appeared neutral on the surface, but beneath, it was drawing borders to its advantage. We should focus on the underwater environment not because it harbors new threats, but because its fluid and often opaque nature has allowed unchecked geopolitical maneuvering for centuries.
A North/South Imbalance
In fact, since the laying of submarine cables has been an active choice of human societies since the 19th century, counter-sabotage measures have also been put in place. Aware of the vulnerability of the environment, companies often install multiple routes to ensure redundancy. Laying cables is expensive, but today’s major players — Google, Meta, etc. — can afford it. Meanwhile, countries in the Global South often rely on fragile networks, lacking resources or strategic appeal.
European networks, on the other hand, are robust and well-connected; they are not under existential threat. If anything, it is Western companies that have contributed to producing global disparities in connectivity. Even if Russia and China engage in sabotage — as others have done — Europe is unlikely to face major disruptions. It is telling that The Guardian article “Is Europe Under Attack?” only cites non-European examples of serious impact:
“The 2023 cut of cable connections between the Matsu Islands and Taiwan in the East China Sea … left 14,000 people without Internet access for several days … In the Red Sea, the cutting of four cables disrupted 25% of data traffic between Asia and Europe.
This imbalance between the well-protected networks of the Global North and precarious access in the Global South leads us to a region where these tensions become particularly visible: the Mediterranean. Today, the Mediterranean Sea is positioned as a digital gateway between Europe and Africa — a strategic hub connecting the continents. But behind the language of innovation and regional integration lies a more complex reality. Much of the infrastructure enabling this transformation — cables like BlueMed and projects like Medusa — is owned or directed by European and Western companies. Even if countries like Libya express ambitions for digital sovereignty, their access to global networks is mediated by systems they do not fully control.
Moving forward, we need to pay closer attention to the history of underwater infrastructures — not to fuel fear, but to raise awareness of how global networks have long reflected and reinforced power imbalances. We should focus on the spaces where unequal actors interact most directly — spaces like the Mediterranean, where global capital, national ambitions, and historical asymmetries converge strikingly. Beneath the sea lie not only technology but also the traces of ancient empires, new dependencies, and the politics of the future.
