When Jordan cryptocurrency ban, a 2024 regulatory move by the Central Bank of Jordan that prohibited financial institutions from processing crypto-related transactions. Also known as crypto transaction restrictions in Jordan, it didn’t make owning Bitcoin or Ethereum illegal—but it did cut off the main pathways to buy, sell, or trade them through banks. This wasn’t a full crypto outlawing. It was a banking blockade. People can still hold crypto in their wallets, but they can’t use local banks to convert Jordanian dinars into USDT, Bitcoin, or any other token. The move was meant to protect the financial system from volatility, money laundering, and unregulated capital flows. But for everyday users, it meant losing access to fast, low-cost cross-border payments and stablecoin-based savings.
What makes Jordan’s case different from countries like Nigeria or Vietnam is that it didn’t go after individuals. It went after institutions. Banks, payment processors, and fintech apps were ordered to block all crypto transactions. That’s why you won’t see Binance or Coinbase offering direct dinar deposits in Jordan anymore. But crypto isn’t gone—it’s just underground. People use peer-to-peer platforms, foreign exchanges, and crypto ATMs in neighboring countries to keep trading. Meanwhile, the government is pushing its own digital currency, the Digital Jordanian Dinar, as the official future of money. This creates a strange split: crypto is banned for banks, but the state is building its own blockchain-based currency. It’s not a war on crypto—it’s a power play.
Related to this are crypto regulation Jordan, the legal framework that defines how digital assets can be used within Jordan’s borders, and Middle East crypto laws, a patchwork of policies across Gulf nations, from Saudi Arabia’s cautious openness to Egypt’s outright bans. Jordan sits in the middle: not as strict as Iran, not as progressive as the UAE. The ban reflects a broader regional fear—losing control over monetary policy. When people use USDT to pay rent or send remittances, they bypass the central bank. That’s why governments react, even if it hurts their own citizens.
What you’ll find in the posts below are real stories from people who live with this ban every day. You’ll see how Venezuelans use crypto to survive hyperinflation, how Pakistan’s 2025 legalization changed the game, and how fake airdrops like BSC AMP or SCIX prey on users trying to find loopholes. There’s no sugarcoating here: if you’re in Jordan, crypto isn’t dead—it’s just harder. And if you’re watching from outside, this is a warning. Regulation doesn’t always mean protection. Sometimes, it just means moving the risk from banks to users.
Jordan lifted its decade-long crypto ban in 2025 with a new law that lets banks handle crypto under strict rules. Here’s what changed, who’s in charge, and what it means for users and businesses.
