How Can the West Handle the Taliban?

Foreign Policy Magazine

NOVEMBER 14, 2024

Taliban spokesperson Zabihullah Mujahid arrives to attend a press conference in Kabul on July 3, following the third Doha meeting.

With Donald Trump’s return to the U.S. presidency, the United States and the West face renewed opportunities and challenges in their approach to Afghanistan. His former envoy to Afghanistan, Zalmay Khalilzad, saw the election as an opening to fully implement the Doha Agreement, moving toward normalized relations, while the Taliban themselves have urged Trump for a “new chapter” in U.S.-Afghan relations.

Yet Trump’s new national security advisor, Mike Waltz, a decorated Afghanistan veteran, criticized the previous agreement, arguing that Washington had “unconditionally surrendered” and called for renewed U.S. fighting against the Taliban during the 2021 withdrawal. As the U.S. president who brokered the Doha Agreement, which set the stage for the complete withdrawal of all foreign troops from Afghanistan—and who once engaged in the controversial overture of inviting the Taliban to Camp David—Trump in his second term has a unique opportunity to build credibility with the Taliban to avoid past mistakes.

Trump will inherit a nearly deadlocked U.S. relationship with the Taliban, amid a waning Western focus. While Afghanistan’s neighbors are essentially moving toward de facto recognition, the recent closure of Afghan embassies in Europe and the quiet discontinuation of the position of the U.S. special representative for Afghanistan are signaling an increasing diplomatic decoupling between Kabul and the West. This has diminished the importance of formal recognition for the Taliban, eroding one of the West’s key leverage points.

The United States and its European partners have four key interests in Afghanistan: counterterrorism, counternarcotics, migration control, and the safe return of detainees held by the Taliban. Advancing these is fraught with challenges. Complicating matters further is a fifth, overarching concern—a moral obligation to protect human and women’s rights and preserve the gains from NATO’s 20-year intervention. Although promoting human rights was never the original aim of the U.S. intervention, and only part of European engagement, it has now become central to both genuine concerns and domestic political maneuvering.

For both the United States and Europe, the most pressing threat is the growing influence of the Islamic State-Khorasan Province (ISKP), a terrorist group that has established a foothold in Afghanistan and Pakistan. While the potential for this threat to be exaggerated exists, and alarmism should be avoided, ISKP has proved its capabilities, claiming responsibility for attacks that killed more than 200 people in Iran and Russia this year. Western intelligence agencies reported several foiled ISKP plots in Europe, including planned attacks at the Paris Olympic Games and a Taylor Swift concert in Austria—highlighting the group’s ambition and reach.

Navigating these complexities requires committed and coordinated U.S.-European diplomacy outside and inside Afghanistan. Just as they fought together, they must now present a united front in diplomatic efforts. While direct engagement with the Taliban remains controversial, positioning it as part of a broader trans-Atlantic effort makes it more politically viable. Instead of issuing ineffective demarches or hoping to fracture the Taliban from within, the West should accept Afghanistan’s current reality, engage where interests align, and practice strategic patience. The Taliban’s reclusive emir, Hibatullah Akhundzada, won’t live or lead forever, but the United States and Europe haven’t yet built ties with Afghanistan’s other key figures.

Demonstrating respect and granting legitimacy, such as formal recognition, are not the same. Since their first emirate in the late 1990s, the Taliban have sought international recognition, a U.N. seat, and diplomatic engagement, but more crucially, they have sought respect. Today, many senior Taliban leaders have spent years living abroad and have a stronger grasp of diplomacy than in the 1990s, spurred by the experiences, networks, and negotiating skills derived from the long process leading to the Doha Agreement in 2020. For the Taliban, de facto engagement and displays of diplomatic respect—such as Chinese President Xi Jinping personally receiving their ambassador—are far more significant than the de jure legitimacy of an international order they consider illegitimate.

There’s no shortage of engagement with the Taliban by non-Western powers. Aaron Zelin of the Washington Institute has meticulously tracked all Taliban diplomatic meetings since August 2021, nearly 2,000 in their first three years in power, with meetings accelerating year on year. When Uzbek Prime Minister Abdulla Aripov completed a formal visit to Afghanistan in August, it all seemed very “normal,” marking the highest-level visit since the Taliban took power. Hands were shaken, and trade deals were signed—and there was no mention of the Taliban’s policies toward women and girls or lack of inclusivity in government.

Countries such as China, Uzbekistan, and the United Arab Emirates are hosting Taliban ambassadors while avoiding the label of formal recognition or raising human rights concerns—a convenient diplomatic maneuver that the United States and European countries cannot replicate due to their own regulations and domestic politics.

However, while regional engagement enhances the Taliban’s legitimacy, it has yet to influence their behavior or prompt any meaningful compromises. Pakistani officials, for instance, are currently grappling with a surge in Tehrik-i-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) attacks, which have claimed the lives of thousands of soldiers and police. Pakistan should have leverage in its relations with the Afghan Taliban, given that many senior Taliban leaders were educated in Pakistani madrassas, sought refuge in cities such as Quetta and Karachi after the 2001 U.S. invasion, received support during the war, and still have family in Pakistan today. Yet this leverage seems absent.

Pakistan does not need to rely on culturally alien diplomats using translators to engage with the Taliban. It has a direct line through a rotating cast of envoys, both formal and informal, such as political leader Fazlur Rehman—a Pashtun and graduate of the same Darul Uloom Haqqania seminary as many Taliban leaders—and Muhammad Taqi Usmani, the most revered living Deobandi cleric. Usmani has urged them not only to curtail support for the TTP but also to allow girls to attend school. Yet even these pleas from figures within their own tradition have been soundly ignored. If the Taliban are ignoring Usmani, they certainly won’t respond to Western criticism, which is often more performative than practical. Similarly, they are also unlikely to heed Islamic leaders or scholars from traditions far from theirs.

After all, the Taliban are victors, and victors are not inclined to listen. They are also ideologues, which sets clear limits on their pragmatism. In September, during a ceremony in Peshawar, the Taliban’s consul general theres refused to stand for the Pakistani national anthem because it featured music. This act of defiance sparked more outrage in Pakistan than the countless TTP attacks that the Taliban have enabled. This highlights a point often overlooked in U.S. and European diplomacy, not just in Afghanistan but across the region: Perceptions of respect—or disrespect—carry immense weight, even in the face of deep-seated conflicts. The Taliban’s refusal to stand was more than a snub; it was a reminder of their ideological intransigence, even toward their former hosts.

If regional engagement is yielding few results, why shouldn’t the United States and Europe keep their distance? Because disengagement offers even less. Up until now, the Biden administration has maintained an international consensus on withholding formal recognition of the Taliban, leveraging it as a potential bargaining chip. However, as regional players are prioritizing realpolitik over ideology, with increased regional engagement—approaching de facto recognition—a Western strategy of nonrecognition is no longer an effective coercive tool. More importantly, the illusory promise of recognition does not offer a meaningful way to compel the Taliban. Instead, it has led to a prolonged stalemate between the international community’s principles and the Taliban’s rigid, exclusionary policies, leaving the Afghan people trapped in the middle of this impasse.

In Western diplomacy, engagement is often viewed as a form of leverage, a key component of transactional negotiations. In Afghanistan, sitting with your adversary is simply the necessary starting point, not a sign of concession. By being present in Afghanistan, regional countries have leveraged aspects of the Taliban’s own values—rooted in its specific version of Pashtun culture, ideas around hosting outsiders, and religious sensibilities—to their advantage. If the West were to adopt a similar approach, it could help secure the release of detainees and address more difficult issues, such as terrorism or migration.

As Pakistan has learned, engagement is not a cure-all for the challenges posed by the Taliban. The West’s predicament is different, and its interests in Afghanistan are more straightforward and less entangled. Abandoning Afghanistan completely may be tempting, but it would echo the mistakes of the 1990s, which ultimately led to the events of 9/11. Rather than sticking to value-based or transactional diplomacy, clinging to ideals it cannot enforce on the Taliban, the West must adapt its approach to protect its interests. Disengagement or inaction risks losing influence and the ability to advocate for a more inclusive and stable Afghanistan.

For NATO states involved in the Afghanistan war, the legacy of two decades of conflict, compounded by the Taliban’s resurgence, has made it a “toxic issue” to revisit. Proactively and directly engaging with the Taliban is a serious political liability for Western leaders. As a result, meaningful diplomatic efforts have been stifled by domestic political concerns and the fear of legitimizing the Taliban government.

In October, Tom West stepped down as the U.S. special representative for Afghanistan without a successor. His responsibilities now fall on John Mark Pommersheim, the deputy assistant secretary of state for Central Asia, and Chargé d’Affaires Karen Decker in Doha. The lower-profile Afghanistan Affairs Unit in Doha could adopt a quietly proactive approach, out of the spotlight. Any meaningful progress will require political and bureaucratic backing, as well as strong leadership from whoever eventually takes over these roles. At some point, U.S. engagement with the Taliban will need to be conducted openly and within Afghanistan itself. Despite the fears of another Benghazi, Washington must find a way to deploy its diplomats, as it did in Cuba in the 1970s and in dangerous outposts today. Without a cohesive approach, it is likely that U.S. engagement with Afghanistan will become fragmented, with various agencies acting independently and ineffectively.

The West still has real interests in Afghanistan, with the growing threat of ISKP, which has proved its capacity for global reach. While the Taliban cannot be fully trusted, they can serve as limited counterterrorism partners against this shared threat. Afghanistan’s migration crisis poses a pressing issue for Europe. More than 100,000 Afghans made first-time claims for protection in the European Union in 2023 alone, making them the second-largest group of asylum-seekers. Driven by rising right-wing populism, even once welcoming nations such as Germany have adopted harsher migration policies.

The West cannot meaningfully influence Afghanistan’s future from a distance. This makes Western diplomacy inherently transactional when it needs to be personal and pragmatic, especially with a group such as the Taliban. Maintaining an arm’s-length approach will breed distrust and suspicion toward any Western efforts to benefit from future changes in the Taliban’s power structure or leadership. This distance also alienates Western countries from the Afghans who live within Afghanistan. Relying on a U.N. envoy is unlikely to change that.

Instead, the United States and Europe could move beyond occasional engagement in Doha and sporadic meetings in Kabul to take a long-term approach by meeting with the Taliban and the Afghan people inside Afghanistan. This approach must be coordinated, coherent, and grounded in personal diplomacy. Having a presence in Kabul is not a mere gesture of goodwill; it is a diplomatic necessity. By following the example of regional states in demonstrating respect through dialogue, Western diplomats can leverage the power of face-to-face interactions, recognizing that effective diplomacy is rooted in building personal relationships.

For the West, being present in Afghanistan could eventually pave the way for pragmatic progress, whereas maintaining distance only ensures failure. Trump should leverage his unique credibility with the Taliban, as the architect of the Doha Agreement, to pursue a forward-looking diplomacy, rather than return to the mistakes of the past.