Disabled Afghans — particularly women — have been among the hardest hit by the Taliban’s rollback of human rights.
In Afghanistan, obtaining accurate data on the number of persons with disabilities — including gender-disaggregated information — has always been a challenging endeavor. But based on the data we do have, it’s clear that more than four decades of violent conflict have left a considerable portion of the Afghan population grappling with various forms of disabilities, both war-related and otherwise. And the pervasive lack of protective mechanisms, social awareness and empathy surrounding disability continue to pose formidable challenges for individuals with disabilities, with women being disproportionately affected.For years, the prolonged insecurity caused by the Taliban’s insurgency hindered a thorough understanding of the challenges faced by disabled Afghans. And now that the Taliban have returned to power, there are even fewer opportunities to gather accurate assessments regarding disability in the country, particularly regarding women with disabilities.
Attempts to Account for Disabled Individuals in Afghanistan
This hasn’t stopped many from trying, with varying levels of success. In one report released by the Afghan government in 2018, the estimated number of Afghans with disabilities was cited at 1.2 million, with 41 percent being women. However, approximately half of the country’s population resided in areas controlled or disputed by the Taliban at the time, so conducting surveys in those regions was impractical and therefore not pursued.
Meanwhile, the Asia Foundation’s 2019 Model Disability Survey reported that a staggering four-in-five Afghan adults and one-in-five children had a physical, sensory, intellectual or psychosocial disability. And citing a 2005 government report, Human Rights Watch noted that roughly one-in-five Afghan households (equivalent to 1.2 million households) included a family member with a severe disability, while two-in-five households had some form of disability.
The Recent History of Disability in Afghanistan
Despite enormous shortcomings and challenges during the Afghan Republic, initial strides were made toward advancing the rights of persons with disabilities in Afghanistan — including constitutional articles that prohibited discrimination and allowed for the provision of financial aid to disabled people.
The enactment of the National Law of Rights and Benefits of Persons with Disabilities in 2010 marked a pivotal moment, opening doors for their participation in social, political and economic spheres. Furthermore, the ratification of the U.N. Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities, along with its Optional Protocol in 2012, underscored the country’s commitment to recognizing the rights of disabled persons.
However, during the Republic era, there was a distinction made between individuals who acquired disabilities due to war injuries and those who were born with disabilities or developed them unrelated to war. Those with war-related disabilities were entitled to social assistance, while those with non-war-related disabilities often faced marginalization.
Additionally, any support earmarked for the latter group was irregular and heavily reliant on personal connections within the government ministry responsible for distributing disability aid. This led to even more discrepancies and discrimination, as many disabled women in west Afghanistan with non-war-related disabilities were denied government assistance while others with similar disabilities in some northern provinces received consistent social support from the ministry.
Since taking control in 2021, the Taliban have introduced measures aimed at monitoring the distribution of financial aid to disabled individuals irrespective of the origin of their disabilities. While this might seem as though the Taliban have expanded the scope of support for disabled individuals, in truth, the Taliban have simply swapped one bias for another: Resource allocation under the Taliban heavily favors disabled Taliban members above all others.
The Taliban have adjusted the total amount for welfare payments. Currently, a disabled Taliban member receives between 60,000 Afghanis ($820) and 180,000 Afghanis ($2,460) annually. Meanwhile, a non-Taliban disabled person who sustained war-related injuries during the Afghan Republic era is paid between 36,000 Afghanis ($490) to 96,000 Afghanis ($1,315) — roughly 53 to 60 percent less than their Taliban-affiliated counterparts.
These changes fail to sufficiently address the needs of non-Taliban disabled individuals. And while payments are promptly disbursed to disabled Taliban members, the same cannot be said for others.
The Disproportionate Challenges Facing Disabled Afghan Women
Disabled women face particularly egregious discrimination, isolation, insult and humiliation within Afghan society, enduring unfair blame for supposedly bringing shame to their families solely due to their disabilities. This has led to increased anxiety and depression, as every day, disabled Afghan women must grapple with stigma, discrimination and exclusion, leading to a compromised sense of dignity and quality of life.
And for those with disabilities from birth, the challenges are even more pronounced. To protect their disabled family members from societal humiliation and scorn, many families find themselves compelled to conceal their severely disabled family members from the outside world entirely. This predicament is notably prevalent in cases involving girls with mental disabilities.
With the Taliban back in power, the various restrictions and bans on women’s employment have also left disabled women unable to make their own income. A 25-year-old woman from a northern province in Afghanistan shared her story, revealing that she and four of her siblings have been visually impaired since birth. Despite holding a university degree, she struggles to secure employment. She lamented, “My family invested in my education to enable me to lead an independent life and contribute to my sustenance. However, the Taliban’s ban on women’s employment has shattered my dreams and those of my family.”
The ban on women’s employment, combined with the absence of a comprehensive support program for disabled individuals, has forced many disabled women to resort to begging on the streets, enduring deplorable conditions. But Human Rights Watch reports that the Taliban’s requirement for women to be accompanied by a mahram — a close male relative — has further compounded the challenges faced by women and girls with disabilities, as even the harrowing and dangerous act of begging is now no longer an option for many as they are excluded from all public life.
In speaking with a 24-year-old woman that lost her leg in an explosion, she told me that not only is she unable to find employment for a dignified income — she also lacks a male blood relative to accompany her outside the home. This has left her feeling helpless and hopeless, as she expressed: “I am a prisoner at home because I am a woman and have disability. I don’t have a father or brother to accompany me outside.”
Meanwhile, the inconsistency of disability assistance payments under the Taliban has forced many families to borrow money from friends and relatives to cover their living expenses while awaiting the next payment. Borrowing money becomes particularly arduous for women, as they have limited access to employment opportunities and stable income streams to repay such loans.
One woman from western Afghanistan spoke of the challenges of being a single, visually impaired individual in the country. Despite receiving an education and working under the republic government, she now faces unemployment under the Taliban. She currently receives an annual sum of 60,000 Afghanis (equivalent to $820) in two installments at the beginning and middle of the year. She revealed that during the intervals between payments, her family resorts to borrowing money from neighbors and relatives, and often struggle to afford enough food.
Another disabled Afghan woman, a former law student, told a similar story: “Every six months, the de facto government provides me with 18,000 Afghanis ($260), but in between these payments, my family is forced to borrow money. Given the widespread poverty, it is very hard to even borrow money these days.”
Closing the Door on Disabled Women and Girls’ Future
The former law student’s story also touches on another particularly troubling trend under the Taliban: The expulsion of female students with visual and hearing impairments from schools tailored to meet their specific needs, as well as the prohibition on NGOs providing vital awareness-raising and mental health services.
By also cutting off access to education, the Taliban are not just leaving disabled women and girls in a dire and destitute financial situation, they’re closing the door on their future as well. As the former law student told me, her aspiration is simple yet powerful: To earn an income in a dignified manner. She firmly believes in the capabilities of her mind, stating, “I did not choose my disability and I am not entirely without use.”
This goal to provide for oneself was a common refrain among the women I spoke with. One woman who became paraplegic at the age of seven due to polio said she completed her education up to the third grade — but still aspires to attain a higher education and acquire employable skills, envisioning a future where she can support both herself and her family.
Another woman in her late twenties, born with a paralyzed leg, mentioned she’d made it to her second year of university before the Taliban banned university education for female students. Despite this setback, she revealed her dream is to become a physicist.
Given the opportunity to develop their abilities, individuals with disabilities can contribute to the workforce, earn income and support their families. However, the current situation in Afghanistan often makes them feel like a burden on their families, leading to various forms of depression and anxiety, compounded by the uncertainty of having enough food to eat.
Empowering Afghans with Disabilities
But what can be done to help create more opportunities for disabled Afghans, especially women and girls? The mother of a young woman with a physical disability had a message she wanted me to convey to the international community: “I urge the authorities and the international community not to ignore the challenges faced by people with disabilities. Don’t treat them as if they are invisible or devoid of needs and interests,” but instead provide employment opportunities based on the skills and abilities of those with disabilities and acknowledge their capabilities.
Or as another disabled Afghan told me: “We do not want to depend on charity.”
Of course, the Taliban are a major obstacle to this goal — and they are likely to remain so for the foreseeable future. Likewise, the United States, and the international community more broadly, are still debating how to engage with the Taliban regime going forward. But there are actions that can be taken today that can help alleviate the burdens carried by disabled Afghans. These include:
Humanitarian aid organizations can prioritize special programs aimed at providing aid to persons with disabilities, with a particular focus on women and girls who face additional constraints due to their disabilities and Taliban-imposed restrictions.
Ongoing vocational training and income generation projects should be carefully crafted to accommodate the diverse needs and abilities of persons with disabilities.
And as policymakers continue to develop the contours of a relationship with the Taliban regime, it is crucial to effectively advocate for disabled individuals’ basic right to dignified living conditions and ensure that they receive the support they need to thrive. To do so in their dealings with the Taliban, policymakers should keep several key points at the forefront of their mind:
The Taliban have been outspoken about their ability to collect revenue from tax and customs. The Taliban’s confidence in their revenue collection should be leveraged by the international community to pressure the Taliban into providing adequate financial and living conditions for persons with disabilities.
The Taliban must allocate dedicated funds to improve the financial and living conditions of persons with disabilities regardless of their gender or cause of disability. While they have made some gestures toward rectifying past biases regarding non-war-related disabilities, the Taliban must be pushed to put this into practice, expand its scope to include women, and cease its preferential treatment of Taliban-affiliated individuals.
The Taliban should ensure that women with disabilities have unrestricted access to education and vocational training. This is already a point of contention between the Taliban regime and the international community, but its importance to the future of disabled Afghan women and girls should only strengthen policymakers’ resolve on the issue.
Benazir Habibzadeh fought for the right to education in Afghanistan; she writes a letter recounting her experience under the renewed Taliban regime.
The Wilson Center
MIDDLE EAST PROGRAM
MIDDLE EAST WOMEN’S INITIATIVE
My dreams were not much: just to have an Afghanistan where everyone—men and women alike—has equal rights and obligations and where there would be no such thing as violence against women.
I am writing this letter from prison. I am in a prison ruled by the Taliban. I am an Afghan girl, and I have been in prison for more than two years, deprived of all basic rights like education and work. Like hundreds of millions of girls around the world, I had hopes—hopes for a better life and for a better tomorrow. I do not just think of myself but of all the women in this country who suffer similar pain, and I understand their suffering.
My dreams were not much: just to have an Afghanistan where everyone—men and women alike—has equal rights and obligations and where there would be no such thing as violence against women. But with the arrival of the Taliban, everything has been destroyed.
When the Taliban first took control of Herat, I was terrified. I imprisoned myself in my house, and, out of fear, did not even step into my backyard for several weeks. I could not return to my normal state. In shock, I was unable to comprehend how our collective dreams went to hell overnight.
But when I regained my composure, I realized that I could not be silent. In every situation, I had to be a voice for all the girls who could not raise their own. As was expected, after the Taliban entered Afghanistan, girls fell silent and watched. Everyone was waiting, expecting resistance and defiance from the other, but no one took the initiative.
So, I decided to take the lead. I picked up my phone, called several of my classmates, and asked them not to remain silent. We prepared ourselves, trembling with fear. We put on our masks and went outside. Horror was visible in our eyes; we felt everyone watching us.
But later, I felt like a gladiator fighting against the injustice and tyranny of the Roman Empire. I felt like Spartacus, rebelling against slavery and humiliation. I felt unstoppable. Eventually, we reached our school. No one allowed us in, but we did not need anyone’s permission. We went anyway.
We shouted in front of the Taliban, calling for education for Afghan girls, and entered the school courageously like revolutionaries. We returned to our classroom. The Taliban threatened the school administration, recorded our names, and prevented them from sending teachers. The Taliban threatened to imprison us, but we did not give in. We tried to study, but we understood that nothing was like before. Not only was there no effort to improve the lives of Afghan women, but the Taliban actively impeded women’s progress and systematically organized to neutralize the resistance efforts of people like me.
We stayed in school for the entire day and then returned home as usual. The Taliban prepared for our return. They threatened the school administration, our teachers, our families, and every one of us in different ways. My classmates were afraid of being abducted by the Taliban—they did not dare accompany me afterward. I waited, hoping things would get better.
But I came to understand that the Taliban are an affliction, like cancer, that grows stronger with time. Their impact on Afghan society, especially on women, has become more evident. They use the power of the gun, the media, religious ideology, foreign money, and organized diplomatic propaganda to marginalize women and blow away our hopes. I love my dreams and miss them dearly.
The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not express the official position of the Wilson Center.
This piece is part of the “More to Her Story” series with Enheduanna. This series spotlights the voices of women and girls from the Middle East & North Africa region and offers a platform for their rarely told stories.
When the Taliban roared back to power in Afghanistan in 2021, education activist Pashtana Durrani had some 7,000 girls enrolled in her organization. The schools were shuttered and Pashtana was forced to flee. She’s now living in exile in the U.S. and still working to educate girls back home. Amna Nawaz spoke with her about her remarkable story told in her new book, “Last to Eat, Last to Learn.”
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Notice: Transcripts are machine and human generated and lightly edited for accuracy. They may contain errors.
Amna Nawaz:
When the Taliban roared back to power in Afghanistan in 2021, education activist Pashtana Durrani, then just 24 years old, already had some 7,000 girls enrolled in her organization called LEARN Afghanistan.
The schools were shuttered. Pashtana was forced to flee. And she’s now living in exile here in the U.S., still working to educate girls in secret back home.
I spoke with Pashtana earlier today about her remarkable life story told in her new book, “Last to Eat, Last to Learn.”
And I began by asking her about the title.
Pashtana Durrani, Author, “Last to Eat, Last to Learn: My Life in Afghanistan Fighting to Educate Women”: It’s basically about the daughters or the first daughters who are always choosing the last ones to be the ones who eat the last because they have to do all the chores. They have to pick up after everyone and they have to take care of everyone.
And then the same methodology with me and my co-author, we thought about it, and we were like, they’re also chosen the last ones to actually learn, because they have to take care of everyone before they choose themselves to learn. So it’s basically a dedication to all of them, especially girls, young girls, because they’re chosen last to do everything.
So it’s last to eat, last to learn.
Amna Nawaz:
This is your message to all of them out there in Afghanistan.
Pashtana Durrani:
Yes. Yes.
Amna Nawaz:
But that wasn’t how you were raised. Your father made sure you were raised very differently.
Pashtana Durrani:
Yes.
Amna Nawaz:
Why?
Pashtana Durrani:
I mean, because that’s, again, the thing.
I was — the day I was born, my dad was like, oh, no, this is going to be my son. So I had all the privilege as a son. If I was raised as an elder daughter, I would have definitely been one of those girls. So, for me, it was very different. But, then again, I witnessed all of that throughout my life. And, consciously, I had to make that choice to make sure that this is talked about.
But, personally, I was raised in a very privileged life, and I was raised very nicely, and I talked over everyone, and I was pretty loud, yes. I was a very spoiled kid, yes, definitely.
Amna Nawaz:
Even though you spent much of your life growing up in a refugee camp in Pakistan, you made the decision to go back to Afghanistan. Your father had been going back and forth.
And you started an organization so that other girls could learn, the same way you did. Tell me about that organization and why that was important.
Pashtana Durrani:
When I was in high school, that was the first time I realized that we are in a refugee camp. Like, this is not the country that we were supposed to be in, you know?
And the discrimination came with it and everything came with it. And we were seen differently, wearing a scarf, or the way my father used to dress up in a turban or something. That was all seen differently. And then, most importantly, it was probably me following him wanting to go back to Afghanistan.
But, at that point, I was so crazily in love with Afghanistan, I was like, I need to go back. Like, I want to go back. Then, at the same time, when I ended up in Afghanistan, the first thing I saw was like, even in our own country, we didn’t have access to the rights that we are entitled to, that the Constitution entitled us to.
So, for me, the most important thing was with that group that I resonated most with was those young girls, my own cousins. And we say in Pashto or in Islam that charity begins at home. So we had to start at home with all the efforts. And that’s how LEARN came into being, because I really wanted my cousins to go to school.
I wanted my family members to end up accessing the same education that I had or the people in refugee camp had. So that’s why.
Amna Nawaz:
And when the Taliban reclaimed power in 2021, you had to shut down your schools. They banned most girls from going to school after a certain grade. You had to flee because you yourself were targeted.
But you’re still running the organization from afar. How? How many girls are you still able to teach and how are they able to study?
Pashtana Durrani:
Oh, it’s an effort.
(Laughter)
Pashtana Durrani:
It’s an effort.
I — in the middle of the night, we’re sometimes talking to the students. Sometimes, we have to do meetings at 3:00 a.m. even today. But at the same time, I think it’s so rewarding. It’s so rewarding. We do a lot of our work in person. More than 300 girls go to school every day, walk to school every day. So that’s a big thing. More than 30 teachers every day teach in person. So that’s a big deal for me.
And then more than 40 people are employed right now who are doing something amazing like this, which is banned in Afghanistan, but whatever.
But…
Amna Nawaz:
But it is banned.
Pashtana Durrani:
Yes.
Amna Nawaz:
I mean, are you worried for their safety?
Pashtana Durrani:
Most of the time, yes. I get extremely worried and paranoid sometimes, and I cannot sleep.
But then, other times, like, I just call them and I talk to them, and they have become part of the family. But then, at the same time, it’s important for me because, in the next 10 years, there might be not a person, or even if I am, might not be this young to be able to do everything.
So I would want more girls to get that empowerment and have that sort of access to opportunities and become the people that they are. My goal is, by the end of like 2030, we have more than 3,400 leaders who are all young girls, who are all in those provinces, and they lead a movement that could hopefully rebuild Afghanistan from where it has been destroyed.
Amna Nawaz:
What about your goals for yourself? And then we should disclose here, I was actually part of the team that did help you to evacuate. It took months to get you out of Afghanistan.
Pashtana Durrani:
Yes.
Amna Nawaz:
I met you at the airport in Boston when you arrived, help you get settled at Wellesley College, where you have built a life. You have graduated. You’re getting your master’s degree from Harvard. You continue your work.
I mean, what does the future hold for you?
Pashtana Durrani:
Immediately, I want to get graduated from Harvard immediately.
(Laughter)
Pashtana Durrani:
But also, at the same time, I want to build 34 schools by the end of 2025, which is a personal goal.
Amna Nawaz:
OK.
Pashtana Durrani:
Big personal.
I’m also working on this nonprofit incubator that is supposed to sustain humanitarian efforts and educational efforts in conflict zones in all different regions of the world, especially Middle East and Central Asia and South Asia. So, I have been working with that, at Wellesley on that, especially focusing on women.
And then, hopefully, I will continue doing what I do. And I love what I do, so yes.
Amna Nawaz:
What do you think your father, who I know you lost a few years ago, what do you think he would say if he could see you now?
Pashtana Durrani:
I think he would be extremely proud. Like, I can say that now confidently.
But then, at the same time, I’m like, I hope — I wish he could see it, and I hope he could see it now. But he definitely would be proud, yes.
Amna Nawaz:
The author is Pashtana Durrani. The book is “Last to Eat, Last to Learn.”
Pashtana, always a pleasure to see you. Thank you for being here.
Pashtana Durrani:
Thank you for having me. Thank you.
Afghan activist’s memoir details her inspirational fight to educate women
The central highlands of the Hazarajat are gearing up for a third year of the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan (IEA) managing one of the most polarising land conflicts in the country, that between Hazara villagers and Pashtun nomads, the Kuchis. The re-establishment of the IEA in 2021 allowed the Kuchis to return, after 40 years, to what they regard as their summer pastures and to revive claims to property and land. There began a process of adjudicating claims and ruling on compensation for alleged losses. While major outbreaks of violence were prevented last year, abuses and intimidation of individuals and communities, mostly by Kuchis against Hazaras, still occur. Winter has offered the occasion for Fabrizio Foschini (with Rama Mirzada’s help) to recap the developments of last year and reflect on where Kuchi-Hazara land disputes might go in 2024.
A flock of Hazara sheep in Yakawlang district, 2012 – photo by Fabrizio Foschini
The Kuchi-Hazara dispute flares up every spring when the nomads travel from lower altitude provinces like Khost and Nangrahar to spend the summer in the central highlands, which are inhabited year-round by Hazaras (and also Sadat, more on whom below). This, they have been able to do for the past two years, after having been prevented from accessing most parts of it by the war and the armed opposition of locals almost continuously since 1978. With their newly found access to the region, they have vigorously renewed claims on lands they used to own and pastures they had been granted rights to, historically, helped by the political turnover that Afghanistan experienced, which completely reversed the balance of power in Hazarajat.
Many Pashtun Kuchi households and clans have, throughout the years, supported the Taleban insurgency and have thus found themselves on the ‘winning side’ of the war – unlike the Hazaras. In the 1990s, some of the Hazara mujahedin factions fought the Taleban as part of the Northern Alliance, with the Taleban retaliating with collective punishments against civilians in the Hazarajat. After 2001, Hazaras turned out to be broadly supportive of the new institutions. Hardly a privileged socio-economic group under the Republican government, the Hazara villagers of the central highlands had at least seen members of their community in government and parliament. They had also, largely, been able to prevent the return of their former landlords, the Pashtun Kuchi nomads, who had enjoyed politico-economic superiority over them for eighty years before the Soviet invasion stopped their seasonal transhumance in the late 1970s. If in other parts of the country the Taleban takeover of August 2021 has resembled a return to the mid-1990s, in Hazarajat it has represented a veritable travel even further back in time, to the monarchic Afghanistan of the early 1970s. And, if this is a distant era that only some among the elders can now recall first-hand, most young Hazaras nurture a radically different idea about it from that of a golden age of peace idealised by some other Afghan groups.
The Kuchis, in turn, lost their affluent and socially prominent status because of the Soviet intervention and the following conflict. This resulted in the loss of their wealth of flocks in war or exile and, while the more prominent families had already started to invest in other business ventures and some eventually emerged as Afghanistan’s most prominent businessmen, the majority ended up as an impoverished group, particularly those settling down as returnees in informal settlements around major Afghan cities.
Roughly a year ago, AAN reported on the first summer in the Hazarajat under the new government. We have now taken a look at what changes the second year of the new era has brought, speaking to twelve key informants from the main provinces affected: Bamyan (three Hazara interviewees and two Kuchis), Ghazni (three Hazaras and two Kuchis) and Maidan Wardak (one Hazara and one Kuchi). Summarising, we have noted in particular that:
Already in 2022, Kuchis were able to go to most areas of Hazarajat. Compared to the previous year, it was mostly single men who travelled to the innermost parts of the region in Bamyan province, while their families and livestock, for reasons of security and obeying a government request, stopped their course in parts of Hazarajat which are more accessible and where their claim to the use of pastures had been given the green light by the local authorities.
Episodes of violence were not as widespread as under the Republic, when the Kuchis’ frustrated attempts at pushing into Hazarajat and the polarised political loyalties between the two groups, both of whom had members and supporters in the government and in parliament, caused major casualties and destruction. The IEA has been able to enforce overall security, although this came at the cost of local residents widely perceiving it as supportive of the Kuchis.
Subtler types of violence and foul play are widely employed, however. Kuchis have been able to intimidate and coax Hazaras, both in day-to-day interactions and in the seats of power, while the latter have resorted to non-cooperation tactics, evading or refusing outright to participate in the institutional mechanisms (joint commissions for dispute resolution) set up by the IEA to solve disagreements.
Trust and acceptance of the dispute resolution mechanisms available, such as joint commissions and courts, have varied depending on the area, the type of dispute and the profile of the individuals involved, frequently causing the parties to try and have their cases shifted to a different area.
From a legal point of view, the situation has reached an impasse. While some disputes concerning private land and houses have been adjudicated, implementing the verdicts is proving problematic. More decisions have been made on compensation for past murders and loss of livestock suffered by the Kuchis, putting economic strain on impoverished Hazara communities, while at the same time tempting more destitute Kuchi households to advance further claims. The major issue of the rangeland of inner Hazarajat and the right to its use as pasture is still pending and the Islamic Emirate, despite its reassurances to the Kuchis, seems reluctant to tackle this thorny matter.
Main features of the Kuchi presence in the Hazarajat in 2023
Kuchi access to Hazarajat has changed significantly over the past 50 years. In the 1970s, the nomads enjoyed rights to use the rich summer pastures there as grazing areas for their animals – granted to them from the 1890s onwards after they had helped Afghanistan’s rulers quash Hazaras’ autonomy. Moreover, acting also as an economically and politically prominent class of traders, who supplied the isolated Hazarajat with much of its needed ‘imports’, they had progressively bought up many lands, which they then rented to local labourers for cultivation (for more background on this and subsequent developments, read AAN’s 2022 report and also this longer paper by the author).
Central Afghanistan, showing the main routes used by Kuchis to reach Hazarajat in 2022-23, based on open sources and interviews by the author, by Roger Helms for AAN
Between 1979 and 2021, Kuchis were largely barred from accessing the region, apart from during the few years of the first Islamic Emirate (1999-2001), which, however, saw bitter fighting and widespread destruction. During these four decades, in general, a number of Kuchi landlords were able to receive payments from their tenants in Kabul or by occasionally visiting the region, but for the majority of Kuchis, the region remained off-limits. However, for a number of years between and until the very end of the Republic, they attempted to force their way in, only to clash with the resistance of local Hazara villagers and provoke the intervention of the central government (read AAN reports at the time here and here). Besides deploying security forces, the latter would regularly bribe the respective groups’ leaders to help defuse the conflict.
The failure of the Republican institutions to seek other than temporary solutions for the issue and the long string of violence contributed to raising the stakes of the confrontation, transforming it into a primary marker of identity for Hazaras even beyond those living in the region and affected by the Kuchi claims, a veritable symbol of their struggle as a disadvantaged group for equal affirmation in Afghan society. Many Kuchis too, by now one of the Afghan communities that lag behind in economy, education and other social indicators, attribute all-encompassing importance to regaining their ‘lost rights’ in the Hazarajat. Both in terms of household perspectives and as a communal rallying cry, many Kuchis have come to link what they perceive as the long-delayed redress of their loss with the expectations of a return to their pre-war wealth and status.
Now, the balance of power in Hazarajat has been dramatically overturned: the Hazara communities find themselves vanquished and disarmed while the Kuchis, usually on better terms with IEA security and administrative officials who are often fellow ethnic Pashtuns and, like the Kuchis, also come from outside the region, are allowed to carry weapons in self-defence. In 2022, a large number of Kuchis coming from various provinces of the south and east of Afghanistan (when not from their Pakistani exile) took their chance to travel to Hazarajat in order to find grazing opportunities, inspect or reclaim past family properties and exact the payment of many years of arrears of the ejara (the rent) from their former Hazara tenants or sharecroppers.
2023 saw the continuation of the overall trends of the previous year. Kuchi households started moving to the highlands in springtime, before the start of the month of Saur (hence by mid-April), many retracing their steps only at the end of Sunbula (late September). The number of Kuchis who travelled to Hazarajat has again been significantly high, although compared to the previous year, some areas reported diminished numbers.
In the vast Nawur district of Ghazni province, for example, one Hazara informant reported that the number of Kuchis was less than that of the previous year; it was mostly Kuchi families who did actually have a history in the district during the King’s time who arrived, unlike 2022, when, he said, many ‘alien’ Kuchis from northern Afghanistan or Pakistan came. However, he concurred with other interviewees from the same district in saying that these Kuchis had brought big flocks of animals[1] and that, this year, they let them graze over all the available land in the district, including non-irrigated fields (lalmi) planted by local people and pastures also used by locals. According to the Hazara interviewees from Nawur, no pasture at all was left for villagers to use. Local Hazaras had to use crops to feed their own animals, and those who could not afford to do so were forced to sell them. Though this situation did not lead to serious episodes of violence, this was mostly due to the locals’ feeling forced to accept it, as Kuchi shepherds were allowed to go armed and displayed a very assertive and predatory attitude towards the local resources.
A Hazara member of the High Shia Commission, originally from Behsud of Maidan Wardak, told AAN that only a minority of the Kuchis who travelled to his district in 2022 were members of families or clans who had used to do so in the King’s time. Rather, most were unrelated people who acted as shepherds for livestock they had rented, or which anyway belonged to other people and arrived under the name of ‘Kuchi’ in order to claim the right to graze. He cited their being utterly unfamiliar with the region’s geography as proof. He also said that in Behsud, Kuchi livestock had caused severe shortages of fodder for local livestock.
There is no doubt that, during the warm season, Behsud has come to host a great number of Kuchi households whose original destination would probably have been areas further inside Hazarajat. In the past, it would have been a staging point for many Kuchis on the road to the higher pastures located in the province of Bamyan, particularly in Waras and Panjab districts. However, as Kuchi elders interviewed by AAN related, they were asked by the government not to enter Bamyan province with their families until the issue of the pastures had been solved and so a number of Kuchis aiming to reach Waras and Panjab may have found themselves bottlenecked in neighbouring Behsud.
One of AAN’s Kuchi interviewees, currently a member of the commission for the resolution of disputes in Maidan Wardak, but representing a group of 800 families, many of whom claim rights to areas in Panjab district, complained about the government preventing them enjoying these rights. He claimed that some families had actually travelled to Panjab early in the warm season, but after a few days, had been sent back to Behsud by government officials. Most of his tribe eventually settled in Behsud, Jalrez and other highland areas of Wardak for the summer before travelling back to Logar and then to Khost.
Another Kuchi interviewed by AAN, the head of the Commission for Dispute Resolution in Bamyan, stated that there was some variation in government orders: it had given back to Kuchis the right to the use of pastures for which they had the King’s farman (decree) in some areas, such as Behsud, where they should, in his words, “use pastures jointly with local residents,” However, he said this permission had yet to be given in Bamyan because of “some problems still to be solved” over the use of rangelands there.
All the interviewees concurred that it was mostly single men who travelled furthest, into the central part of Hazarajat, in Bamyan province, and that they brought only a fraction of their livestock with them. In Yakawlang district in 2023, Kuchis had also appeared to be mostly men travelling alone, bringing no animals at all except to two areas, Foladi and Kham. Reportedly, most of those going toYakawlang were mainly interested in ‘reclaiming’ lost properties, not pasturing their livestock.
In 2023, in Waras district, the Kuchis did not bring their families nor any livestock and their number, albeit greater than the previous year, was still comparatively small. Reportedly, a few dozen individuals travelled to each area where they owned some land. Many did not stay throughout the summer, but rather visited the district twice, at the beginning of spring and then again in October, in order to get rent paid from Hazara tenants. Others, who had disputes over private properties to follow, probably commuted between the central areas of Bamyan province and the district.
An initial influx into Panjab district in 2023 of whole families with livestock was stopped. Thereafter, it was single men without flocks who moved into the district. However, given the high incidence of land disputes in this district, their number was larger than in Waras and their presence extended over a longer period.
Many legal cases raised last year are still awaiting adjudication, and the Kuchis involved arguably returned to follow the proceedings. Moreover, this year, new cases arose, with Kuchis who had not shown up last year coming to claim properties or compensation, while some disputes that had apparently been solved had to be reopened when more heirs of the original Kuchi landlord or creditor appeared and claimed their share of the compensation paid out in 2022. During the summer of 2023, the commissions and the courts took several decisions regarding land ownership and compensation, and their implementation was attempted. We will take a closer look at these developments in selected areas of Bamyan and Ghazni provinces.
A follow-up from 2022: Adjudication of cases, attitudes by the conflicting parties and the authorities
Bamyan province
Panjab is arguably the district of Bamyan where Kuchis have claims to the most and best plots of land, as much as one-third of the district’s arable land, according to the claim of a Kuchi elder interviewed by AAN. The amount of property already retaken or still claimed by the Kuchis in the district and the fact that some of them belong to particularly prominent members of the Kuchi community raised the profile of the Kuchi presence and spurred a higher degree of involvement by the provincial authorities. For this purpose, Abdullah Sarhadi, the governor of Bamyan, visited Panjab three times during last year’s warm season. The first was on 20 Saur 1402 (10 May 2023), when he arrived with Salim Naeem, son of the late Naeem Kuchi.[2] As many as 400 armed Kuchis also came, both as delegates of each Kuchi group with interests in the district and as bodyguards to Salim, who, after his father’s death in 2020, has risen to a paramount position among the Kuchis wintering in Logar and Loya Paktia.
At the time of this high-profile visit, the Commission for Dispute Resolution was the sole institutional mechanism working on cases in the district, as Panjab did not have a court. Kuchis had been complaining about their lack of representation on the Panjab commission; all its six members were chosen among Hazara residents, as the Kuchis had no accommodation or were unwilling to stay for longer periods in the district. They had instead been regularly referring cases to the Bamyan court, or even, when unsatisfied by this, to the provincial Commission for Dispute Resolution in Bamyan city. In 2023, according to a former member of the Panjab commission, Salim Naeem impressed this complaint upon Governor Sarhadi and it was decided that a court should be set up in Panjab to rule on cases for it and neighbouring Waras.
The court was established in July and was staffed by four judges, Sunni Tajiks from Kahmard and Saighan districts in northern Bamyan. Soon, the situation from the previous year was overturned: if in 2022 the Kuchis were asking that cases from Panjab be sent to the court in Bamyan, this year, they preferred to have all cases adjudicated by the ad hoc court in Panjab and refused Hazaras’ requests to refer some cases to the Bamyan court. The Commission for Dispute Resolution in Panjab, deemed by the Kuchis too partial to Hazara interests, was eventually disbanded. According to a former member interviewed by AAN, it had at most been able to advocate for a mitigation of the compensation to be paid by Hazaras, for example invoking their past struggles to defend the district, including the lands belonging to the absent Kuchis, during the jihad against the Soviets.
Among the first decisions by the Panjab court were those on the claims by Kuchis to the land in Pushta Ghorghori and a few other areas,[3] which it ruled in the Kuchis’ favour, ordering the eviction of the people living on the land, which had been left vacant by the Kuchis since 1979 and since developed by local Hazaras. The former member of the disbanded commission summed up the court’s decisions:
There are 44 land disputes in Panjab and 16 have been settled. All 16 disputes were resolved by the court. Eight of those were in Pushta Ghorghori, five or six in Dara Mandi and two in Derazqul. The people’s houses and lands were given to Kuchis. The value of the houses was also counted and it was decided to be given to the Kuchis as part-payment for the 43 years of back rent [ejara] due to them.… Fifteen houses have been taken in Pushta Ghorghori, as well as land belonging to eight houses in Dara Mandi and another four in Derazqul.
The people in Dara Mandi, Derazqul and Kerman had built the houses themselves. None could believe that the land belonged to Kuchis when they saw how people were living there, how they had built houses and planted many trees.… The Kuchis did not come to Panjab for 43 years, so some of their tenants were using the lands and some tenants had sold the Kuchi land to other villagers and now the sellers were not here.… The people have no option but to accept the court’s decision because during the kings’ time, the Kuchis were getting the land documents and sharia (ownership) letters from the Hazaras’ fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters, and now they still have those documents.… There was no clash or violence because the government warned that if someone started a fight, the security forces would suppress it.
A small protest organised by locals went largely unheard and some of the residents of Pushta Ghorghori have since left their homes, relocated to Kabul or gone abroad, while those in the other areas retaken by the Kuchis have seen only their lands seized. Those who have left seem to have been mostly tenants, while parts of the families of the Hazara owners were still living in Pushta Ghorghori as of February 2024.
Hazara livestock near Sadbarg, on the road between Yakawlang and Kerman, 2012 – photo by Fabrizio Foschini
Neighbouring districts, such as Waras and Yakawlang, saw an increase in new legal cases where Kuchis claimed private land. In Waras, the outcome of a major land dispute regarding an estate in Band-e Kusa, which includes three schools and a bazaar with around 200 shops, is still unclear at the time of writing: a first ruling in 2023 went in favour of the Kuchis, however, local sources reported to AAN that in February 2024, the district authorities were arguing with the Kuchis that the schools and the bazaar plots were public property. In Yakawlang, a major dispute revolved around plots of lands in Firuz Bahar that were reportedly bought by the Hazaras from the Kuchis some forty years ago, but that the latter claim had simply been usurped. Our Hazara interviewee from Yakawlang, personally involved in this dispute, reported episodes of violence, intimidation and attempted kidnapping suffered by locals at the hands of Kuchis, which he claimed took place in the provincial administrative centre, Bamyan city:
The court in Bamyan decided that the Firuz Bahar case should be sent for investigation to the Yakawlang court. The Kuchis got angry at this decision, so they attacked us in front of the court and wanted to take us with them by force. They didn’t want the case to be sent to Yakawlang because we have documents and witnesses to prove that we bought those lands and they know they will lose the case in Yakawlang.… They attacked us physically in front of the court in Bamyan on 12 September. They attacked us three times. Once it happened in the dispute resolution commission. Then they attacked us in the bazaar and, for a third time, in front of the court.… They wanted to kidnap us and carry us off, so we shouted loudly, the people gathered, the police arrived and they couldn’t [take us] in front of the court in Bamyan city. We were eight people and they wanted to kidnap two of us, me and another.… In the bazaar, I was alone. They slapped me three times and wanted to lock me inside a shop, but I escaped. The day they attacked us in front of the court, the Taleban were unable to control them. The Kuchis were using force, they slapped a police officer and wanted to seize the gun of another, until many people gathered and restrained them. On the day when we had a clash with them inside the commission, they drew guns, but the police of PD1 of Bamyan city came and rescued us.
On 9 September, six Hazara members of the central Bamyan Commission for Dispute Resolution resigned, to protest at the unilateral decisions made by the Kuchi members of the commission and the pressures and threats they had been subjected to. The head of the commission, a Kuchi, gave AAN a different explanation for their resignation:
After we [the commission] had checked the deeds and lease documents and wanted to make a decision about the lands whose claimants were known, those six members left the commission and then they didn’t come to any more meetings.… They said they’d received threats from different directions. They say they’ve been threatened with death by Khalili and Mohaqeq.[4] and other Hazara elders who are out of the country. They were told to leave the commission and not to take part in its meetings, or they would be considered enemies. Therefore, they were forced to leave the commission.… Initially, they didn’t say anything. They participated in meetings, but were hiding when decisions were made. We asked them many times to attend the meetings and, in their absence, we told the governor about it. Finally, they confessed and said they couldn’t attend the meetings because Hazara elders had threatened them.
Whatever the ultimate reason behind the resignation of the Hazara commissioners, it all looked similar to the strategy resorted to by other Hazaras involved in legal suits with Kuchis – absconding.[5] Hazara representatives and defendants have often made themselves absent to avoid being forced to officially sign over lands – in Pushta Ghorghori and other places. Such was eventually the case in Firuz Bahar as well, as related by the interviewee from Yakawlang:
We are eight people who are in dispute with the Kuchis. All have escaped now except for two or three of us. People are escaping because the Kuchis want to get their signatures by force.… They escape because a decision cannot be made in the absence of one of the sides.
The absence of six out of 20 members left the Kuchi head of the dispute resolution commission of Bamyan complaining about decisions not being implemented and the government not giving its support:
Since the beginning of the year, the commission has made approximately 35 decisions.… 14 members of the commission made their decision about those lands, but practically nothing has happened. I mean, the lands have not been given to the Kuchis because the Hazaras don’t accept the decisions and the governor doesn’t push them either. We didn’t have the force to implement the decisions we made. Therefore, we stopped doing our work.
The commission activities had indeed stopped by the end of September 2023, but the local government did actually try to push for the implementation of the decisions made by it and the courts. According to reporting by independent organisations, on 10 September, General Directorate of Intelligence (GDI) officials arrested two Hazaras in Pushta Ghorghori on the grounds that they were preventing Kuchis’ access to their farmland. On 3 October, in the administrative centre of Panjab district, IEA security forces arrested nine Hazaras and subjected some of them to a lashing at the district governor’s office, with the purpose of forcing them to put their fingerprints on a document stating that they handed over their farmland to the Kuchis (also reported by Etilaat-e Roz).
As related to AAN by a Hazara interviewee, governor Sarhadi returned to Panjab shortly after this incident to invite the locals to comply with the decisions about lands and houses to be given up and compensation to be paid. He said that if Hazaras did not comply, their prayers would become invalid and they would stop being considered Muslims. This injunction to abide by the decision of an Islamic court and not breech an earlier commitment arguably represents a much milder form of pressure compared to arrest and torture, but it can become easily charged with a more sinister and threatening meaning to members of a religious minority that has often been subjected to stigmatisation and even open persecution.
Ghazni province
Nawur district of Ghazni province sits on the road that Kuchis use to approach the higher areas of Hazarajat. Because of this, it has frequently witnessed armed confrontations between incoming Kuchis and Hazara villagers during the past two decades. Compared to Bamyan, where the Kuchis hold many claims to land ownership, legal cases adjudicated in these districts include a higher proportion of requests for compensation for alleged losses of lives or property during earlier years. As such, cases can date back several decades, specific perpetrators often cannot be found and relatives or indeed whole village communities have been held responsible.
Many cases were raised in 2022, but most were not brought to a close, often because of the inability or unwillingness of local villagers to pay large amounts of money to Kuchis as compensation. In many instances, groups of Hazara villagers have been detained for long periods in order to force the rest of their community to collect the required sum, in what amounted to the taking of hostages and collective punishment. This continued into 2023.
One of the most serious cases left from the previous year regarded the death ten years ago of two Kuchi shepherds, a man and his son, in the area of Jagashew of Nawur. Already in the summer of 2022, as many as 70 Hazara villagers from the area had been detained in a bid to force locals to pay the blood price to the relatives of the victims. This year, according to a Ghazni resident who owns land in Nawur, another 22 villagers were detained in connection with the case. Negotiations on the compensation involved both the amount of money and who should pay it. As the killing occurred in a deserted area – Jagashew, a rangeland area, which is considered a mel, a gathering point, by the nomads – it was hard to determine who the perpetrators were and until these were found, the residents of the nearby hamlets have all been held responsible. Then the Kuchis introduced the name of five culprits and local Hazaras added six more. These, according to locals interviewed, were local robbers and armed goons and many have fled the country for Iran. At the time of AAN’s field research in November 2023, the agreement stipulated within the parties was that if the culprits did not pay the sum within six weeks, all the local villagers would provide it in the form of a loan, until it could be recovered from the perpetrators. However, local Hazaras wondered why the government did not pressurise the specific individuals indicted or at least their families into paying, by confiscating their assets, and feared the mechanism could be a ruse to extract the money twice, from both the culprits and the other villagers.
As for the sum agreed by the dispute commission, the Kuchis did not accept the 40 lakh afghanis (around USD 53,000) that had been proposed by the Hazara commissioners with the support of local authorities. Eventually, the total amount reached was AFS 55 lakhs (around USD 75,000), 44 lakhs as the blood price for the dead men and another 11 lakhs as compensation for the theft of around 200 sheep the shepherds had with them. Even then, according to a Kuchi member of the commission, the Kuchis accepted this only after much pleading by the Ministry of Border and Tribal Affairs, which argued that the number of past disputes was so great that if nobody accepted a compromise, they would never be solved.
The list of cases is indeed long and only a few seem to have found a durable settlement. While some cases clearly involve serious crimes or acts of violence, though their having happened in the context of a civil war would make one think that they could be included in the amnesty declared by the IEA in the wake of its takeover, other claims for compensation revolve around smaller incidents – some almost trifling – and are nearly impossible to pin down. Nonetheless, the compensation money obtained by (or promised to) the Kuchis bears proof of the effectiveness of such a ‘claim campaign’ in the context of the economic crisis afflicting Afghans. The situation is adding a burden to the economic plight of the affected villagers and is described as an organised racketeering scheme by some observers.[6]
The unregulated use of pasture by Kuchis is also proving a major problem for residents of Nawur. Already in 2022, the district administration promised locals they would have determined the boundaries of pastures to be used by the respective groups, but have yet to do so. Hazaras interviewed said they would like this to be done quickly, as in the meantime, it is Kuchis who are using most of the pasture available in the district.
Locals interviewed by AAN went on to complain that Kuchis damage their crops when moving through the districts, despite an agreement reached last year between them and the nomads through the mediation of the Minister of Tribal and Border Affairs and the court about which route the Kuchis should follow in order to reach their mel without causing damage to crops. Locals claimed that, apart from the central areas close to the district centre, the rule is not enforced by the security forces and added that whenever farmers have tried to prevent damage to their fields, the Kuchis have attacked and beaten them.
The cases of damage to the crops were solved through the Commission for Dispute Resolution and compensation payments ranging from 40,000 and 100,000 Pakistani rupees (USD 143 to 3,575) have been offered to the farmers. However, complained one Hazara from the district, Kuchis have been made to pay compensation only for the damage to the crops, but have never been condemned or fined for the aggression or the injuries caused to farmers. He described the commission as dominated by its Kuchi members. Indeed, Hazara chances to get redress for wrongdoings[7] were probably not enhanced by the fact that, until recently, the head judge of the Nawur court was himself a Kuchi from the Niazi tribe. According to locals, he was very mindful of maintaining good relations with other Kuchis and easily swayed in their favour. He has now been replaced by a new judge from Kandahar, whom locals hope will be more independent.
Timid signs of improvement in relations between residents and local government in Nawur were reported by one of the local Hazaras interviewed. In particular, he singled out two developments. The composition of the Commission for Dispute Resolution has changed and the new Hazara members, albeit still in a weaker position, are not as utterly helpless as the previous ones. Moreover, the newly appointed security commander, a Pashtun from Ghazni, with his focus on targeting the real culprits, and not arresting random villagers, and seeking the involvement of tribal leaders and elders in resolving disputes, had made a good impression on him.
Broadly speaking, however, the morale of local villagers is at a low ebb. According to those interviewed by AAN, the oppression and uncertainty brought by the yearly Kuchi inroads are pushing many residents of Nawur to leave the area. Even the landlord from Ghazni complained that, in 2023, it had become difficult to find sharecroppers or labourers to work his lands in the district.
Tangled up in green: complexities of a seemingly schematic confrontation
The temptation to see the situation in Hazarajat as merely the outcome of ethno-religious fault lines is high. Many elements of these have been present since the inception of the dispute and undoubtedly keep contributing to the development of the Kuchi-Hazara conflict. Some of the factors at play, while true, risk being overemphasised. For example, an aspect of organised collective politics is always present in the narratives of the conflicting parties. Hazaras from both Hazarajat and the diaspora speak of ‘genocide’ and of the continuation of age-old policies aimed at ‘Pashtunisation’ of Afghanistan, while Kuchis clearly count on aspects of their identity shared with the Taleban authorities (Pashtun even if not the same tribal background, and Sunni) and play on political revanchism and hostility against a group, the Hazaras, considered by many Taleban to have been hostile to their insurgency and supportive of the previous government.
At a closer look, this monolithic vision of the confrontation shows some cracks: behind ethnonationalist postures hide more nuanced and opportunistic attitudes, which may, in turn, ease or further complicate the solution of disputes.
Not all sedentary Shia inhabitants of Hazarajat identify as Hazaras. Despite being often counted together and sharing most cultural and socio-political aspects of life, Sadat (singular Sayyed) constitute a recognisable minority group in the Hazarajat (as in other regions inhabited by Shias). Traditionally held in great respect because of their claims of descent from the Prophet’s family, they are interspersed among Hazaras across the whole region and highly integrated into the same communities, of which they traditionally constituted the cultural and economic elite. Decades of war in Afghanistan saw momentous changes in the society of Hazarajat: not only were the Kuchis denied access, but the Sadat lost some of their previous prominence in the face of a new class of mujahedin religious leaders who were Hazara by ethnicity, had been trained or educated in revolutionary Iran and often opposed to Sadat traditionalism and privileges. Despite a great degree of Shia solidarity between the two groups, some of these fault lines may be reappearing nowadays, resulting in different responses to the new situation. As reported by one interviewee:
In Dara Mandi area, which is located between Ghor province and the Panjab district, some aghayun (term of respect for the Sadat) were the tenants of the Pashtuns and the aghayun themselves are now saying to the Kuchis that the land had been grabbed by their fathers by force.
What may sound like a self-damaging statement could be aimed at showing a higher degree of cooperativeness with the newly powerful to guarantee the survival of the Sadat community. This has by no means been an unknown attitude among vulnerable minorities throughout history and it is often encouraged by the majorities in power. Indeed, one source from Yakawlang, himself a Sayyed, told AAN that he was approached by a Kuchi leader about a land dispute who sought to gain his support, claiming that the Kuchis wanted to “reclaim what the Hazaras had usurped and give back to the Sadat what had legitimately been theirs.” The Kuchi head of the Bamyan commission also said that the four Hazara members who remained in the commission after the resignation of the other six are in fact Sadat and they accepted all of the commission’s decisions.
Even without invoking these identitarian nuances, in the harsh economic situation of Hazarajat, one of Afghanistan’s poorest regions, competition by people for their very survival can emerge among the Hazaras. Interviewees from Panjab reported how some villagers would offer themselves as tenants to the Kuchis who had just reclaimed some lands in exchange for higher rents than what the Hazara families who had, until recently, been tilling the land had been due to pay:
There are other problems as well as disunity. For example, some people tell the Kuchis that the previous tenant was giving them 20 sers of wheat (one ser equates to around seven kg), while they promised they would give the Kuchis 40 sers as ejara for the land. Disunity exists, and from the time that Kuchis started the dispute, they have been using such disunity among the Hazara people.
Local rivalries inside a community also play a role: some local Hazaras proved ready to testify that other Hazaras had not bought the land from the Kuchis. But are only Hazaras permeable to disunity and cooperation with the ‘enemy’, and are the Kuchis as united as they get portrayed by their opponents? That would definitely go against popular wisdom about Pashtun tribes and indeed a Kuchi elder interviewed by AAN criticised both the IEA and his fellow Kuchis:
The Taleban somehow defend the Hazaras. There is a Hazara who in the past usurped the majority of Kuchi lands in Panjab. He is the closest adviser to the current governor of Bamyan.This person was also in power in the previous government and currently has the support of the governor.… On the other hand, the Taleban always ask us to compromise with the Hazaras.Among the Kuchis, there are some who only consider their own interests. For example, the son of Naeem Kuchi only takes care of his land and the government supports him. The rest of the Kuchis are homeless. We have no representative. There are some people whom no one listens to.Only to solve the problem of Naeem Kuchi’s son, this year the governor travelled to Panjab – Hazaras had burned his wheat harvest. The government only addressed the problem of Naeem Kuchi’s son, and that was it.
Internal competition for resources among the Kuchis has also started to appear. According to an interviewee from Nawur, the Dafdani Kuchis have now been occupying the pastures of the Kharroti Kuchis in the district for two years. The latter, the Hazara said, are more interested in agriculture and own less livestock; hence, they do not damage Hazara crops as much as the Dafdani do. Quite understandably, the Hazaras would support the Kharroti claim to the pastures were the issue to be addressed by the government.
Even the duality between commissions and courts shows inconsistencies in the IEA’s overall political management of the conflict and, sometimes, offers room for manoeuvre to the Hazaras, who typically find themselves on the weaker side. Hazaras interviewed preferred that their cases be sent to a high court (mahkama marafiya) such as that in Bamyan and not be adjudicated by hastily set up primary courts (mahkama ebtedaiya), such as that in Panjab or by commissions reportedly dominated by Kuchis, as one interviewee said:
We’re not happy with the work of the commission. We want the court to solve the disputes. Even the local people who don’t have any disputes believe that the disputes must be settled in court. The marafiya court in Bamyan makes decisions according to the law and based on justice.
The preoccupation of the Emirate with the juridical soundness of its court system – which has in the past earned them some recognition even among non-supportive parts of the Afghan population – emerges in the more impartial attitude ascribed to the high court in Bamyan, as well as in the uneasiness created among the Kuchis by the impossibility to perfect their recent reappropriation of lands by getting the signatures of the absconding Hazara commissioners and disputants.
A recurrent concern of the Hazaras interviewed was the ‘landslide effect’: for each Kuchi claim that gets accepted and satisfied, there will be more or bolder claims in the next year. While possibly not so monolithically united in exploiting their renewed superiority over the Hazaras, it is true that Kuchis are spread far and wide and as news travels, it is probable that more of them will show up year by year. This is adding another layer of complexity to the disputes, even to cases that had apparently been satisfactorily settled, as related by two Hazaras from Bamyan:
(Hazara villagers) had paid the ejara last year, but some other Kuchis came this year and said that the person who was receiving the ejara was only one of the heirs and that they were also heirs, so they should be paid too. Now, one heir has become 30 to 40 heirs.
Last year, some Kuchis had sold the land [they had just successfully reclaimed] to Hazaras, but this year, more [Kuchi] heirs to that land showed up and said the sale was null [because they had not agreed to sell it].
That leads to another issue of fundamental importance: What do the Kuchis mean to do with the land they have reclaimed? Many Hazaras would indeed be interested in buying back some of the lands from which they are being evicted and in 2022, some tried to do so, although this has not proved easy. According to a Kuchi elder who spends his time between Logar and Panjab district, the answer is categorically negative:
Kuchis have made a promise among themselves that they will not sell the land at any price. We just want our lands to be determined and submitted to us. Then, we will rent it to local people again because we Kuchis won’t live in those areas all the time. We’re on the move. We spend two or three months there and then we move to warmer areas.
His words are identical to those of the other Kuchis interviewed by AAN, showing a common position has been agreed upon, at least for the purpose of communication with the outside world. But Kuchis have travelled along a wide range of paths in life over the last 40 years of displacement and not all prospective heirs will be interested in resuming a transhumant life or be in a position to visit Hazarajat twice a year to exact rent from tenants.
However, even if Kuchis, looking for quick money, wanted to sell the land they have just reclaimed in the future, that may be more complicated. As the land has recently been confiscated from other Hazara families, it would be considered disputed land locally and few potential buyers from the area could be expected to step forward.
Conclusion: irreconcilable positions and no real solution in sight
The debate goes on over whether IEA’s management of the Kuchi-Hazara dispute is part of a broader political strategy or simply the result of the attitude of local IEA officials, often sympathising with and in some cases related to the Kuchis. Still, the main trends arising over the past two years are clear:
The IEA has permitted the adjudication of claims related to private property, payment of rent arrears and debts and the redress of other losses sustained by the Kuchis over the decades when they were absent from Hazarajat and the years in which they tried in vain to regain access to it. In general, the authorities have accepted the legal ownership documents from Zahir Shah’s time. Despite the political and economic imbalance inherent in them from that era, that they are weighted against the Hazaras and have been denounced by a number of Afghan Islamist tanzims in the past, they have apparently not been questioned by the IEA.
The IEA has refrained from addressing the highly contentious and symbolically relevant issue of the right to the exclusive use of the higher mountain rangelands, especially those located in Bamyan province. Rights to graze this land were granted to the Kuchis in various decrees from the time of Abdul Rahman onwards. The IEA, stressing that it is state land and does not belong to any group, seems to be postponing a decision over its use.
Proceeding from the previous point and hinting at the need for a ‘shared use’ of those pastures and citing security, the government has prevented the migration of Kuchis en masse to the most prized but also more distant grazing area of inner Hazarajat in Panjab and Waras districts.
Conversely, there has been a strengthening of the seasonal presence and opportunities available for Kuchis in some districts, which form a sort of ‘outer belt’ of Hazara-inhabited areas. Districts such as Nawur or Behsud, despite not being the main focus of Kuchi property claims, have witnessed a major and more prolonged influx of Kuchis over the past two years. The nomads have consumed massive amounts of local resources, such as pastures, non-irrigated cultivated land and water, to the detriment of locals. If this trend continues, it could turn into a seasonal relief valve for dispossessed Pashtun communities across the country, whether or not they belong to the original Kuchi clans and families who moved to Hazarajat in the distant past, while making life for local Hazara villagers intolerable.
The IEA has certainly played a major role in the current direction that the Kuchi-Hazara dispute is taking. The Taleban have a previous history of ethnically and religiously polarised conflict with Hazara militias in the late 1990s and of meddling in Kuchi attempts at gaining access during the Republic. Moreover, the IEA has a strongly connotated identity as a Pashtun-dominated government where Kuchis easily have the upper hand on Hazaras in terms of political and military power and wasita – connections with the powerful. Thanks to this, the Kuchis’ position has been strengthened not only by the active collaboration of local IEA officials related or sympathetic to them but also because they have been able to exploit the feelings of powerlessness and fear among Hazaras that the Taleban takeover has engendered. However, the IEA did not invent the Kuchi-Hazara dispute. Rather, they inherited it from previous Afghan governments all the way back to Abdul Rahman’s campaigns of subjugation in the Hazarajat, achieved with the help of the Kuchis in the 1890s. This is not something that needs to be stressed in order to remove responsibility from the IEA leadership for what it does now, but rather to serve as a reminder about where the roots of the conflict lie.
If a national collective take on the Kuchi-Hazara conflict is of any value, it would have to be tackled in terms of historic experience, not of contingent legal suits. A fundamental problem is the diverging perception of whole periods of recent Afghan history and of the value and significance attributed to them. For most Kuchis, such as the head of the Bamyan resolution commission, the last forty years are, legally speaking, a black hole:
All the deeds and documents reviewed were from before 1357 [1978].… We do not make decisions about the deeds distributed after 1978.And we told the Hazaras that they must bring any kind of [ownership] documents they have from before 1978: those we would check. They don’t have any such documents. They made fake documents after 1978 when it was a time of wars and Kuchis didn’t come to their lands at all.[8]
For Kuchis, the last four decades of war and turmoil saw them traumatically lose not only their hegemony over the Hazarajat, but their nomadic lifestyle. Yet their rejection of what happened in the past forty-five years mirrors the rejection by Hazaras of the decrees and deeds issued by governments that dispossessed their forefathers and, with few exceptions, largely left the Hazara community discriminated against and marginalised over a timespan of eighty years, from 1893 to 1978. For the time being, as one Hazara interviewee described it, the upper hand is with the Kuchis:
We asked them why they hadn’t come in the past years to make their claim. They said that they were afraid of getting killed by us and that: “At that time, power was yours, now it’s the turn for our power.
In the long run, however, without some sort of shared understanding of what has happened in the past, no possible application or interpretation of legal provisions can satisfy both parties. If such a rapprochement does not happen, history will simply keep taking turns of abuse and retaliation in the Hazarajat highlands until they become inhospitable to humans, no matter how rich their beautiful pastures are for the grazing of animals.
Edited by Kate Clark
References
References
↑1
It is difficult to get precise figures about the number of animals, mostly sheep and goats, that Kuchis brought with them. Hazaras from Nawur would estimate between 500 and 1,000 for each family, but one Kuchi source from the district gave much wider variations, saying that, depending on the household wealth, a family could own from 70 to as many as 30,000 animals. Sources in Behsud estimated flocks there to be composed of 4-5,000 animals each.
↑2
Naeem Kuchi, arguably the foremost tribal leader of the nomads during the Republic, had previously been a Taleban commander and Guantanamo inmate. During the brief and bloody Taleban conquest of Hazarajat in 1999-2001, he led Kuchi militias there, before the abuses they committed against Hazara villagers induced the Taleban leadership to recall them.
↑3
In the past, Pushta Ghorghori, near the Shato Pass leading from Panjab to Yakawlang, was a major stopping place for Kuchis, as it was located just above the irrigated areas, which was the limit marking the beginning of state-owned rangeland upon which grazing rights had been granted to the Kuchis by the kings’ decrees. Of the other areas mentioned by the interviewee, Dara Mandi is in western Panjab, Derazqul on the border with Behsud of Maidan Wardak and Kerman is an area split between Ghor’s Lal wa Sarjangal district and Panjab. The dispute over land in Pushta Ghorghori has been frequently reported on by some Afghan media outlets, for example here.
↑4
Karim Khalili, a former vice-President of Afghanistan under Hamid Karzai, is also the leader of one of the factions of Hezb-e Wahdat-e Islami (Party of the Islamic Union), the main Hazara/Shia political organisation in Afghanistan; Muhammad Mohaqeq is the leader of another such faction, labelled Hezb-e Wahdat-e Islami Mardom-e Afghanistan (Party of the Afghan People’s Islamic Union). Both are currently living outside Afghanistan.
↑5
Only occasionally does the tension underlying the new imbalance of power trigger other forms of resistance. Last year, the wheat harvest of Salim Naeem’s lands in Panjab district was burned by a local farmer. According to the Kuchi head of the Bamyan dispute commission, Governor Sarhadi hurried there to resolve the issue and a compensation of AFS 200,000 (around USD 2,700) was eventually paid to the perpetrator.
↑6
A recent report by an Afghan news website, Kabul Now, currently based abroad, gives a comprehensive list of cases across Afghanistan and has attempted to estimate the compensation paid by or required from Hazara villagers. It calculates that, up to August 2023, Hazaras would have paid, only as compensation for harm done to persons or animals, almost 17 million afghanis and 24 million Pakistani rupees, roughly the equivalent of USD 310,000, while an additional 42.7 million afghanis (USD 570,000) had been fixed by the courts and commissions but remained to be paid.
↑7
In 2023, Nawur saw at least one major case where a crime perpetrated by Kuchis against a Hazara was addressed. In the summer of 2022, a Hazara man was murdered by some Kuchis. His body had not been recovered and, not knowing his fate, nobody had filed a complaint for murder, until the issue was disclosed one year later by other Kuchis and the matter was investigated. The commission eventually settled for a blood price of 60 lakh Pakistani rupees (around USD 21,500) to be paid to his family.
↑8
This rejection of all proceedings made by courts during the years of mujaheddin government in Hazarajat can influence land disputes in many ways: one of the Hazara disputants in the case of Poshta Ghorghori claims that some land owned by the Kuchis there was allotted to his family in the 1980s as blood price in compensation for the murder of his grandfather by a group of Kuchis in 1974, which the previous government had failed to prosecute. The IEA, however, has not considered the decision of the mujahedin court valid.
The Pastures of Heaven: An update of Kuchi-Hazara disputes as spring approaches
United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres will host a second meeting of Special Envoys on Afghanistan in the capital of Qatar, Doha, on 18-19 February 2024. Unlike the last gathering in May 2023, the Emirate has also been invited, although it has not yet confirmed that it will send a delegation. The two-day meeting is expected to focus on the UN Security Council-mandated Independent Assessment Report, particularly its recommendation for the appointment of a UN Special Envoy for Afghanistan, something the Emirate has emphatically opposed. Meanwhile, a January meeting of the regional countries in Kabul appears to have signalled a shift in Emirate thinking, that engagement closer to home might yield better outcomes and strengthen its position vis-à-vis its Western interlocutors. AAN’s Roxanna Shapour looks at the debate around the assessment report, especially as it has solidified into the merits of appointing a UN Special Envoy, and what an Emirate tilt to the region might mean for discussions in Doha on international engagement.
Since its re-establishment in August 2021, the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan (IEA) has repeatedly called for international recognition and demanded that the country’s UN seat be given over to its representative (see AAN reporting here). Yet, at the first meeting of special envoys for Afghanistan hosted by the United Nations in Doha in May 2023, the Emirate was not even invited (as AAN reported). Two weeks before that meeting, remarks made by UN Deputy Secretary-General Amina Mohammed, had sparked a media and social media storm by appearing to suggest that recognition of the Emirate might be on the table – and:
We hope that we’ll find those baby steps to put us back on the pathway to recognition [of the Taliban], a principled recognition,” Mohammed said. “Is it possible? I don’t know. [But] that discussion has to happen. The Taliban clearly want recognition, and that’s the leverage we have.
UN Secretary-General’s spokesperson Stephane Dujarric stepped in to clarify Mohammed’s remarks: “She was reaffirming the need for the international community to have a coordinated approach regarding Afghanistan, which includes finding common ground on the longer-term vision of the country.”He went on to tell reporters that the purpose of the May 2023 Doha meeting was to “reinvigorate the international engagement around the common objectives for a durable way forward on the situation in Afghanistan.” Dujarric said he believed that achieving these objectives required “an approach based on pragmatism and principles, combined with strategic patience, and to identify parameters for creative, flexible, principled, and constructive engagement (see AAN’s analysis here).The Emirate’s ban on women working for NGOs (on 24 December 2022) and extended on 4 April (less than a month before the meeting) to the UN, however, loomed large and dominated the agenda.
Unlike that first meeting of the special envoys, this time, the UN has extended an invitation to Kabul. The IEA’s anticipated participation was touted by many, including European Union Special Envoy for Afghanistan, Tomas Niklasson, who said it represented a “significant opportunity to meet, to hold meaningful discussions about Afghanistan, and to show, on all sides, readiness to engage on a way forward, based on the [independent assessment] report, in a UN-led process” (see EU statement here).
However, the Emirate has not rushed to confirm its attendance, initially saying it was considering the matter and would announce its decision in due course (see for example Hasht-e Sobh here). Later, it appears to have set two conditions for its participation (more on which below) and a day before the meeting is due to start, we still do not know if the IEA will attend.
In this report, we lay out the background to the meeting, why there was the move to assess international engagement with the IEA, what the Assessment said, responses to it, and the political manoeuvrings ahead of this second Doha meeting, which have focussed on whether or not there should be a UN Special Envoy for Afghanistan, and the balance between regional perspectives on the assessment report, the IEA’s response and the viewpoints of Western countries.
Background to the 18 February meeting – a controversial assessment report
The initiative to assess international engagement with Afghanistan emerged out of weeks of complex negotiations over Afghanistan and the annual renewal of UNAMA mandate in early 2023. Out of this, on 16 March 2023, the UN Security Council (UNSC) passed two resolutions on Afghanistan – one (Resolution S/RES/2678(2023) extended the mandate of the UN Assistance Mission in Afghanistan (UNAMA) until 17 March 2024, while another (Resolution S/RES/2679(2023) asked the Secretary-General to conduct an independent assessment which would provide recommendations for “an integrated and coherent approach among different actors in the international community in order to address the current challenges facing Afghanistan” (see AAN report here which looked at the politics behind this move in detail).
About a month later, Guterres appointed senior Turkish diplomat Feridun Sinirlioğlu as the Special Coordinator for the independent assessment (see 25 April announcement here). The appointment preceded the first meeting of Special Envoys on Afghanistan, which was, by then, long-awaited and which was held in Doha on 1-2 May 2023. The gathering, said host Guterres, was “about developing a common international approach, not about recognition of the de facto Taliban authorities” and that it was important to “understand each other’s concerns and limitations” (see a readout of the press conference here). Participants in this meeting, Guterres said, had agreed on “the need for a strategy of engagement that allows for the stabilisation of Afghanistan but also allows for addressing important concerns” (see also AAN analysis here).
Following the deadline set for him by the Security Council resolution, Sinirlioğlu submitted his independent assessment on Afghanistan to the Council on 10 November 2023. It was not published on the UN website until 6 December (here), although it was leaked and widely distributed soon after Security Council members received it (see, for example, the independent, women-led, non-profit news website Pass Blue here.) It seems that most people, including the IEA, were able to read the leaked report before it was officially circulated – a fact that Emirate officials have commented on with displeasure, according to a source who asked not to be identified because he is not authorised to comment on the issue.
As AAN reported in a detailed breakdown and analysis of the Assessment, it says it has one “overarching goal” – to “advance the objective of a secure, stable, prosperous and inclusive Afghanistan in line with elements set out by the Security Council in previous resolutions.” It does not, however, identify what those elements are. Widespread consultations with Afghans and others, it says, have underlined that “the status quo of international engagement is not working.” It does not “serve the humanitarian, economic, political or social needs of the Afghan people,” nor does it address the concerns and priorities of “international stakeholders, including the neighbouring countries.”
The assessment report identifies five key issues and priorities: human rights, especially of women and girls; counterterrorism, counternarcotics and regional security; economic, humanitarian and development issues; inclusive governance and rule of law and; political representation and implications for regional and international priorities (concerning the lack of recognition of the IEA).
Its recommendations start with the economy and include expanding international assistance, including technical assistance, finalising some near-finished infrastructure projects that were started before August 2021, establishing economic dialogue and financial reforms to reduce the effects of existing sanctions on the banking sector, all with the aim of addressing the basic needs of the Afghan people and strengthening trust through structured engagement. It then has a second set of recommendations addressing international security concerns about terrorism, illegal narcotics and shared water resources. A third set of recommendations lays out a broad and rather vague roadmap for political engagement intended, it says, to fully reintegrate Afghanistan into the international community in line with its international commitments and obligations.
The final set of recommendations suggests three mechanisms designed to coordinate and oversee the recommendations made in the report: a UN-Convened Large Group Format (which already exists – this was the group which met in Doha in May 2023 and will do so again on 18 and 19 February); a smaller and more active International Contact Group and; a UN Special Envoy, complementary to UNAMA which would focus on “diplomacy between Afghanistan and international stakeholders as well as on advancing intra-Afghan dialogue.” It has been that last mechanism, the appointment of a special envoy, which has ended up eclipsing the rest of the Assessment.
The Security Council did take action on the Assessment, but only after a month and a half of meetings, mainly held behind closed doors, and two weeks of intensive negotiations on the text of UNSC Resolution 2721. It was adopted on 29 December, the Council’s last working day in 2023. Although the resolution stopped short of fully endorsing the Sinirlioğlu report, it did, nevertheless encourage “member states and all other relevant stakeholders to consider the independent assessment and implementation of its recommendations” and asked the Secretary-General to “appoint a Special Envoy for Afghanistan” (see AAN analysis here). Importantly, Resolution 2721 was adopted by 13 votes in favour, with China and Russia abstaining, rather than using their power as permanent members of the Council to veto it (see here).
Reactions to the Assessment and the Emirate’s opposition to having a special envoy
There have been widespread reactions to the Sinirlioğlu report among Afghans and others since it was first made public, with some political figures and rights activists calling the report “weak, incomplete, and merely declarative,” according to Hasht-e Sobh. There have been numerous discussion programmes on Afghanistan’s airwaves, with proponents and detractors alike debating the pros and cons of the report’s findings and recommendations (see, for example, ToloNews’ evening discussion programme Farakhabar here and Ariana News’ Tahawol here). Analyses of the Assessment have been published, for example, DROPS’ Shadow Report,[1] which provided a response from the perspective of Afghan women, as well as numerous meetings both public and behind closed doors, including this briefing session at the Security Council on 20 December 2023, at which former head of the Afghanistan Independent Human Rights Commission, Shaharzad Akbar, spoke.[2]
The IEA, for its part, sent an immediate reaction to the assessment report to the Security Council on 21 November, ie before it was officially published. Its response was not officially released, but was widely shared on social media and reported on by the Afghan media (AAN has seen a copy and screenshots were aired and posted on X by AmuTV; see also @JJSchroden’s post on X). While the Emirate said it welcomed “recommendations of the Assessment that supports the strengthening of [the] national economy of Afghanistan, opens pathways to the recognition of the current government and encourages regional connectivity and transit via Afghanistan,” it warned against viewing Afghanistan “as a political vacuum or an ungoverned space.” It voiced strong and unequivocal opposition to both a UN-appointed Special Envoy and to an intra-Afghan dialogue:
Afghanistan should not be viewed as a conflict zone where foreign-imposed political solutions like intra-Afghan dialogue are deemed necessary, and neither should the time of the international community be wasted with such endeavors. It must be understood that stability and security have returned to Afghanistan, and all its affairs are being managed by a central government.
Afghanistan has a strong central government that is perfectly capable of independently managing its internal affairs as well as conducting its own diplomacy, hence the establishment of parallel mechanisms by the United Nations such as a Special Envoy are unacceptable.
The appointment of a special envoy by the UN is, then, for the Emirate a red line. At the same time, Kabul appears happy and has expressed support for the rest of the report.
The IEA turns to the region
If the IEA chooses to go to Doha, it would be the first time its representative had sat at a table with all of Afghanistan’s interlocutors since taking power. That could be seen as going a long way to moving the needle toward its stated goal of international recognition. Yet, in recent months, the Emirate’s focus seems, rather, to have shifted closer to home, with a renewed vigour in its ongoing agenda to engage with Afghanistan’s neighbours to increase economic and political ties. Perhaps the strongest indication of this was a recent meeting hosted in Kabul, which was proposed by Iran’s Special Envoy for Afghanistan Hassan Kazemi Qomi in his discussion with IEA acting Foreign Minister Amir Khan Muttaqi on 9 January 2024 (see Amu TV website and the Iranian Students’ News Agency (ISNA) here). This was part of a more expansive proposal, which was put forward by Iran, to create a regional contact group of special envoys, something Kazemi Qomi has aired on numerous occasions since (see for example ToloNews here and Iran’s state News Agency IRNA here).
On 29 January 2024, three weeks after it was first mooted by Iran, Kabul played host to what was called the Afghanistan Regional Cooperation Initiative. It brought together representatives of 11 countries in the region (and in Indonesia’s case, a little beyond) – China, India, Indonesia, Iran, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Pakistan, Russia, Turkey, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan. While the hastily organised meeting was initially envisioned as a regional envoys’ summit, most countries were represented by their resident representatives in Kabul; only the Russian and Chinese Special Envoys travelled to Kabul to participate. Iran was represented by its special envoy, who is also the ambassador, Hassan Kazemi Qomi, India by the head of its Kabul-based technical team, Rambabu Chellappa (see Indian media outlet The Wire here).
Many have downplayed the importance of the meeting, saying it lacked high-level participation from countries in the region. For example, an Afghan former Deputy State Minister for Peace, Abdullah Khenjani, noted in a 2 February interview with Afghanistan International, that none of the participating countries had allowed its flag to be displayed in the room, which is a normal practice in diplomatic meetings. He interpreted this as underscoring the participants’ position that none had officially recognised the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan as the country’s government. To have the IEA represented by its acting Foreign Minister, but regional countries mostly by resident ambassadors, with only three special representatives, showed that those participants were neither very senior nor empowered “to make commitments or decisions on such important issues.” The ambassadors, he said, communicate all the time; the only unique feature of the meeting was that they were “sitting around the same table.”
It would be rash, however, to dismiss the significance of this meeting. First, it was the first international meeting to take place in Kabul since the fall of the Islamic Republic and the ability of the IEA to convene such a gathering in Kabul at whatever level is significant. Second, it presented an opportunity for the IEA to spell out its foreign policy priorities and put its opposition to a UN-appointed Special Envoy officially on the public record. Finally, the timing of the gathering (about a month before the UN-convened meeting in Doha) sent a strong message to the foreign capitals not only about the Emirate’s intentions but also about sentiment in the region. The calculation seems to have paid off, at least in the short term. The day after the meeting, China accepted the credentials of the IEA representative in Beijing, effectively recognising the Islamic Emirate as the legitimate government of Afghanistan (see VoA here and this AAN report for a more comprehensive discussion on the prospects for the Emirate’s recognition).
The way that countries in the region, led by Tehran and Kabul, were organising to share their views and possibly consolidate their position, may have prompted another pre-Doha II meeting, that of the G7 countries. The little publicised gathering of special envoys from Canada, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, the United Kingdom and the United States in London on 23 January was also attended by representatives from Norway, the UN, and other international organisations, notably the World Bank (see AmuTV here); there was no final statement and little gleaned as to the contents of the discussion.
What did Muttaqi’s speech at the Kabul gathering say about Emirate policies?
It is worth taking a closer look at what acting foreign minister Amir Khan Muttaqi said at the gathering and how it may signify a considered tilt by the Emirate to the region. His government’s primary objective for hosting the meeting, said Muttaqi, was to create a “region-centric narrative aimed at developing regional cooperation for positive and constructive engagement between Afghanistan and the countries of the region” (see a video of his speech here).[3]
Muttaqi’s exceptions that heavily bent on the protection of IEA political interests were set high. He said that besides common regional economic interest, he expected discussions to focus on the creation of “a region-centric narrative for positive and constructive engagement with the Afghan government to confront existing and potential threats in the region” and “speaking with one voice to call for the removal of unilateral sanctions on the region and on Afghanistan in particular.”[4]
He told participants that regional economic cooperation was a top foreign policy goal for the “new Afghanistan.” The end, he said, to 20 years of occupation and 45 years of conflict had paved the way for an “independent central government,” which had already made significant headway in trade and transit with the region. This, he said, had previously been “a dream due to the imposed wars and insecurity.”
He encouraged all actors to reject a “zero-sum” approach in favour of “win-win” policies, which he said was not “merely a slogan” but rooted in the belief that economic dependencies in the region meant progress and development could only be achieved through an “interaction-oriented narrative in all fields, as opposed to an inconsistent and evasive interaction narrative.” This, he said, would allow the region to reduce potential security threats and exploit economic opportunities, especially in “post-war Afghanistan,” for the benefit of the region at large.
Muttaqi did acknowledge that Afghanistan, “like any other country, has problems,” which he said were mostly inherited from the past. While he emphasised his government’s resolve to find solutions, he stressed that it was not possible to solve all problems in the short term in a country that had experienced “foreign invasions and interventions and civil wars” for the past half-century. He made it clear that the IEA’s domestic policies and actions were not up for discussion, and that attempts at ‘meddling’ would not be tolerated.
Our choices shall be respected. Instead of proposing governance models and pointing fingers at the system, it is better to engage on [issues of] mutual interest.… Within the framework of such regional consensus, we usher in incentive mechanisms to reach thematic agreements that serve mutual interests.
However, he saved his strongest words for the widely anticipated appointment of a UN Special Envoy for Afghanistan, saying that the international community’s interventions in Afghanistan and the 20-year “fight for freedom” had proven that “imported prescriptions and the models they offer do not heal what ails the Afghan people.” In particular, Afghanistan’s previous experience with UN-appointed Special Envoys, he said “has led to nothing but war, instability, and occupation for Afghanistan.” Afghanistan was a now sovereign, free, and safe country with a government that represented all Afghans and “stands ready and has the capacity to conduct talks on issues of mutual concern with different regional and international sides.” It was yet another reason why, he said, a UN Special Envoy was unnecessary.
Ahead of the Doha meeting: diplomacy intensifies
The Emirate’s repeated opposition to the appointment of a UN Special Envoy has led to a steady stream of foreign officials and special envoys travelling to Afghanistan, as well as numerous meetings held in various capitals, presumably to discuss common approaches and next steps in what has certainly become an impasse between the West and Kabul. Since December 2023, they have held talks with Emirate officials about the proposal, seemingly to no avail. They have included Feridun Sinirlioğlu, who was in Kabul on 6 February for several days of meetings with senior IEA officials, including acting Deputy Prime Minister Abdul Kabir and acting Foreign Minister Muttaqi (see ToloNews here and Pajhwok here). Commenting on Sinirlioğlu’s meeting with Abdul Kabir a series of posts on the official Arg (Prime Minister’s office) X account noted: “The Emirate supports most parts of the above-mentioned report, but does not agree with the calls for the appointment of a special representative for Afghanistan.”
Speaking to the media on 8 February at the end of a four-day visit to Afghanistan, EU Envoy for Afghanistan Tomas Niklasson said the meeting’s agenda had been set by its organisers, the UN (see ToloNews here and here and this press statement published by the EU on 8 February) and that is aim was to “set realistic expectations and prepare better for a constructive Doha meeting.” He said that those officials he had met had expressed “a positive appreciation of the main findings and recommendations of the report,” but, at the same time:
The only specific question I heard referred to the need for a UN Special Envoy, as requested by the UN Security Council, which I understood as being based on negative experiences from a different historic context and a perceived lack of clarity about the precise function and mandate, also in relation to UNAMA’s future mandate.
The interminable round of diplomacy over the past few weeks seems to have achieved no change in the Emirate’s position. Its unyielding position on the special envoy issue has provoked strong reactions from some, including former US Chargé d’Affaires in Afghanistan, Hugo Llorens who told Voice of America on 8 February (see here):
The Taliban are not in a position to set conditions for the international community. The Taliban need the international community more than vice versa. They should think and act rationally…. Should the Taliban refuse to cooperate with a new U.N. envoy, it could further limit the international community’s capacity to respond to the political and humanitarian crises in Afghanistan.
The UN and the US, meanwhile, have continued to express strong support for the appointment: “The United States strongly supports the resolution’s call for a UN special envoy for Afghanistan,” said US Department of State Spokesperson, Matthew Miller in his 13 February press briefing, “and urges the secretary-general to appoint a special envoy as soon as possible. A special envoy will be well-positioned to coordinate international engagement on Afghanistan to achieve the objectives laid out in this resolution.”
The Emirate’s opposition to a UN Special Envoy seems likely the primary reason it has not confirmed its participation at Doha. However, Afghan media sources have speculated that a major barrier could also be that “the Taliban does not accept the presence of protesting women at this conference, despite women’s participation being one of the major demands of women’s rights activists in this event,” according to Kabul-based news website Khaama Press. Although, a separate meeting with Afghan women representatives was always on the agenda of the Doha event.
There have also been references to the IEA giving two pre-conditions, not publicly specified, for its participation at Doha: “If the conditions are not met,” BBC Persian reported Muttaqi saying on 14 February, the Emirate would prefer not to participate in this meeting. It also reported that foreign ministry spokesman Abdul Qahar Balkhi had confirmed that the issue was discussed in the minister’s meeting with Russian Ambassador to Kabul Dmitry Zhirnov on 15 February (see here the Emirate’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs’ readout of the meeting here).
Finally, the foreign ministry released a statement on X concerning the meeting in Doha, on 17 February, which clarifies the conditions for the Emirate’s participation in the meeting:
The Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan believed that the meeting of Special Envoys for Afghanistan being convened by UN Secretary-General António Guterres in the capital of Qatar, Doha, was a good opportunity to hold frank and productive dialogue on issues of disagreement. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs has clarified to the UN that if the Islamic Emirate is to participate as the sole official representative of Afghanistan and if there exists an opportunity to hold frank talks between the Afghan delegation and the UN about all issues on a very senior level, then participation would be beneficial. Else, ineffective participation by the Emirate due to non-progress in this area was deemed unbeneficial.
…
It should be noted that if the UN takes stock of current realities, rebuffs influence and pressure by a few parties, and takes into consideration the fact that unlike the previous twenty-year regime, this government of Afghanistan cannot be coerced by anyone, then there exists possibility of achieving progress in talks with the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan.
The controversy over the special envoy and the IEA’s reluctance to accept the UN’s invitation to Doha seem to have made the UN less sure-footed about the very idea of a UN Special Envoy. Interestingly, when asked about the matter during his regular daily press briefing on 7 February, Spokesman for the Secretary-General Stéphane Dujarric sounded equivocal and would not be drawn into commenting:
I mean, it’s a lot of hypotheticals. No new envoy has been announced. The Secretary-General will be in Doha in February for the meeting of special envoys on Afghanistan, and these are national envoys. Of course, his Special Representative will be there, but I don’t want to prejudge any decision that the Secretary-General may decide to take.
Also, no doubt, giving pause to many in Western capitals is the possibility of a strong regional bloc emerging with a consensus position on Afghanistan at the Doha meeting. Andrew Watkins from the United States Institute of Peace (USIP) said this could be especially so, given the growing divide and “the tense geopolitical climate” between the United States and Russia and China in the Security Council. In a Q&A piece co-authored with USIP’s Kate Bateman, he compared US support for the appointment of a special envoy with Russian and China’s “lukewarm” position on the issue. He also pointed out another complicating factor, France, another permanent member of the Security Council, “which is strongly critical of the Taliban and suspicious of widening engagement with their regime.” He argues that this may also prove to be a stumbling block for US attempts to “rally allies and partners around a common position” (read the USIP piece here).
As the Doha meeting loomed, a last chance at some pre-gathering talk came at the fifth meeting of Special Representatives and Envoys of the European Union and Central Asia on Afghanistan, held on 14 February in Bishkek. EU Special Envoy Niklasson and head of the UN Assistance Mission in Afghanistan (UNAMA) Roza Otunbayeva (who herself served as the president of Kyrgyzstan from 7 April 2010 until 1 December 2011) travelled to the Kyrgyz capital for the meeting, which Kyrgyzstan’s Foreign Ministry said focused on “the current situation in Afghanistan and the process under UN disguise [sic] in run up to the second international meeting in Doha,” (reporting by AkiPress).
Little information has been released about the two-day meeting in Doha, neither the agenda, nor the format, although we know it will bring together special envoys from 28 nations as well as representatives from several international organisations.[5] However, according to several sources who are familiar with plans, three separate sessions are scheduled one between the special envoys, chaired by the UN Secretary-General; another between IEA representatives and the UN Secretary-General (with the possible participation of some, if not all, special envoys); and a third meeting between the special envoys and six, as yet unidentified, representatives from Afghan civil society from both inside and outside Afghanistan, including women, chaired by UN Under-Secretary-General for Political and Peacebuilding Affairs, Rosemary Dicarlo.
“The objective is to discuss how to approach increasing international engagement in a more coherent, coordinated and structured manner, including through consideration of the recommendations of the independent assessment on Afghanistan,” said UN Secretary-General spokesperson, Stephane Dujarric in his press briefing on 15 February. , with discussion expected to focus on the appointment of a UN Special Envoy and the practicability of convening a smaller contact group:
Looking ahead
As the representatives of some 28 countries and international organisations prepare to deliberate the course of future international engagement with Afghanistan, a shared vision seems as elusive as ever. The verdict over the fact of an impasse, as the assessment report points out, “that the status quo of international engagement is not working” – led to its commissioning, intended to find a new method of engagement “that learns from previous efforts, focuses on the needs of the Afghan people, and acknowledges the political realities in Afghanistan today.”
If a new method of engagement was indeed to take “political realities in Afghanistan today” into account, then surely the Emirate’s adamantine opposition to the appointment of a UN Special Envoy would have made it a non-starter. Intended to be a mechanism to coordinate an intra-Afghan dialogue and the international response to Afghanistan, it is a path that the Emirate persistently refuses to take.
On the other side of the argument is the Emirate, whose repeated calls for recognition have reverberated across the globe for nearly three years. If it indeed coveted recognition and the international legitimacy it affords so strongly, then surely an invitation to sit at the same table with the world’s special envoys to discuss a roadmap for the future could be expected to have been accepted without pre-conditions. After all, going to Doha did not mean accepting the appointment of a special envoy.
Instead, the conversation seems to have stalled at its first hurdle and all the many outstanding issues seem to have fallen by the wayside. The Assessment makes recommendations which, depending on your point of view, need to be supported as benefiting the Afghan people, or strongly opposed as they would help the Emirate consolidate power. Yet, with the different parties so deeply embedded in their own positions on the issue of the special envoy, the prospects that the Doha meeting on 18-19 February might yield a change to the status quo and open the way to a new form of engagement do not look great.
Edited by Kate Clark and Jelena Bjelica
References
References
↑1
DROPS, the Organization for Policy Research and Development Studies, in its shadow report, it describes itself as:
… an Afghan think tank founded in Afghanistan, now based in Canada. It has a long track record of informing policymakers and other stakeholders through evidence-based research. Its ongoing BISHNAW-WAWRA (which means listen in Dari and Pashto) initiative has been conducting regular surveys with women in Afghanistan to increase the number and diversity of women’s voices feeding into the decisions and programs designed by the international community to mitigate the current political, humanitarian, economic and security crisis faced in Afghanistan. Since August 2021, DROPS has continued its work conducting remote surveys and virtual interviews, roundtables and focus group discussions.
↑2
Shaharzad Akbar is currently the Executive Director of the Afghan civil society organisation, Rawadari (tolerance).
↑3
Translation of Muttaqi’s speech by Ariana News here; in text by Afghanistan Analysts Network.
↑4
Muttaqi identified five key discussion points for the regional meeting:
Exploring region-centric and engagement pathways based on common regional interests;
Creating a region-centric narrative for positive and constructive engagement with the Afghan government to confront existing and potential threats in the region;
Exploring ways for soft and hard connectivity which would lead to regional economic development for the benefit of all the people of our region;
Speaking with one voice to call for the removal of unilateral sanctions on the region and on Afghanistan in particular; and
Respecting one another’s indigenous and traditional development models and governance mechanisms.
↑5
28 special envoys from the following countries and organisations are set to participate in the meeting: Canada, China, France, Germany, India, Indonesia, Iran, Italy, Japan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Norway, Pakistan, Qatar, the Republic of Korea, Russia, Saudi Arabia, Switzerland, Tajikistan, Turkey, Turkmenistan, the United Arab Emirates, the United Kingdom, the United States and Uzbekistan, in addition to the European Union (EU), the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation (OIC) and the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO).
REVISIONS:
This article was last updated on 19 Feb 2024
The Contest for a Special Envoy: Will the meeting in Doha yield a shift in the world’s engagement with the Emirate?
Lecturer of Transitional Justice at the American University in Afghanistan
Al Jazeera
Published On 17 Feb 2024
The Taliban does not want to share power with warlords and corrupt former officials and neither does the Afghan population
On February 18, UN Secretary-General António Guterres will host a meeting of special envoys for Afghanistan in Doha, Qatar. The Taliban had earlier confirmed it will be sending a delegation to the event, which will also be attended by other Afghan political stakeholders and representatives of the Afghan civil society.
This gathering is being held to accommodate one of the recommendations presented by the UN Special Coordinator for Afghanistan Feridun Sinirlioğlu in his November report (PDF) on the state of affairs in the country.
Although the report highlighted the need to focus on confidence-building measures between the international community and Afghan stakeholders, which would imply identifying areas of possible cooperation that are not politically sensitive, some difficult issues are bound to be brought up at the meeting. Prime among them would be the matter of the formation of an inclusive government in Afghanistan. This demand has been reiterated by regional and international actors as one of the key preconditions for the recognition of the Taliban government.
Seeking inclusive governance after a conflict is a routine diplomatic intervention. The idea is that inclusion is vital in peace-building, as it can resolve grievances produced by exclusion and prevent the re-emergence of violence.
However, the term evokes unpleasant memories for the Afghan people because it reminds them of the Bonn Conference that followed the US invasion of Afghanistan where the exiled and reviled warlords of the country were given a clean slate and an opportunity to participate in the subsequent power-sharing arrangement.
This inclusion of the warlords effectively meant impunity for crimes and played a vital role in the failure of the subsequent attempts at state-building in Afghanistan. The warlords were also spoilers of the peace process with the Taliban, the failure of which led to the eventual fall of Kabul to Taliban forces in August 2021.
The Taliban has used the negative sentiment the term invokes in the population to its advantage, refusing to succumb to international pressure to include other Afghan political forces in its government. It has made clear that it considers such pressure an attempt to repeat the experience of the Bonn Conference. This is not an unpopular move, as the Afghan people dread the return of warlordism to Afghanistan.
Some of these exiled warlords who still have eyes on power include Abdul Rashid Dostum who has been accused of sexually assaulting political opponents and of committing war crimes during the US invasion and Abdul Rasul Sayyaf who was one of the warlords responsible for the Afshar massacre of 1993 in which up to 1,000 people were butchered in a western district of Kabul.
Ahmad Massoud, the son of the late Ahmad Shah Massoud, who was also involved in the Afshar massacre and the Afghan civil war, has also recently emerged as a political player. He is currently attempting to rally exiled warlords and allies of his father to fight against the Taliban while seeking funding from foreign governments.
Apart from the warlords, there is a great number of former Afghan officials of the previous government who have expressed a desire to come back to power. Many of them are being included in conversations on the future of Afghanistan despite standing accused of large-scale corruption and even drug trafficking.
It is not clear if any of the warlords or other problematic political players will participate in the meeting in Doha. The invitation process has not been transparent and it seems attempts were made to include some controversial figures, as the Taliban warned it would not attend if the selection of the Afghan participants was not agreeable to its leadership.
If the meeting in Doha is meant to find ways to build bridges with the Taliban, then it should not be a venue where the inclusion of warlords and former Afghan officials of ill repute is pushed. Such a move would be counterproductive as it would make the Taliban more reluctant to engage. The issue of larger participation in the Taliban government can be brought up when enough trust has been built and momentum generated.
While it is clear who should not be part of a future government, finding qualified and trusted figures from non-Taliban political forces can be a challenge. That is because, between 2001 and 2021, the elections in the country were repeatedly rigged, making it unclear who represents the will of the Afghan people.
Ultimately, the Taliban should be allowed to choose who beyond its movement to include in government. This is not an ideal outcome but it would be an improvement on the current status quo.
The demand for the Taliban to break its current monopoly on power should be framed differently if it is ever to be realised. The term inclusivity not only is a non-starter for the Taliban but also evokes bad memories in Afghanistan’s general population.
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.
Obaidullah Baheer is a lecturer of Transitional Justice at the American University in Afghanistan. He holds a postgraduate degree in International Relations from the University of New South Wales, Australia. His research was titled “A Study of the Ideational and Structural Factors Hindering Negotiations with the Taliban”.
The ‘inclusive’ Afghan government Afghans do not want
United Nations meeting of special envoys aims to seek a way out of humanitarian and human rights crises in a Taliban-led Afghanistan.
On February 18-19, United Nations Secretary-General Antonio Guterres will convene a meeting on Afghanistan in Doha to discuss the ongoing humanitarian and human rights crises and the recent report on a way forward by U.N. Special Coordinator for Afghanistan Feridun Sinirlioğlu. Special envoys from U.N. member states and international organizations will attend; representatives from Afghan civil society, women’s groups and Taliban officials have also been invited. The conference is a critical, high-level opportunity for donors and the region to chart next steps on how to improve the situation in Afghanistan and engage with the Taliban regime.
USIP’s Kate Bateman and Andrew Watkins discuss the significance of the meeting, its implications for U.S. interests and obstacles to broader international coordination on Afghanistan.
Why is the U.N. organizing this conference on Afghanistan and why now?
Watkins: U.N. Secretary-General Guterres convened an initial conference of the world’s special envoys to Afghanistan in May 2023 (also in Doha) to address the potentially destabilizing conditions in Afghanistan, including a failing economy and increasingly restrictive Taliban policies on women’s rights. At that point — 21 months into the Taliban’s rule — the international community was grappling with the reality that the Taliban were effectively consolidating their rule and had proven unwilling to yield to international pressure that the country follow international obligations to combat terrorism, protect human rights and practice inclusive governance. These concerns began to impact the U.N. directly, in late 2022 and into 2023, when Taliban authorities issued restrictions on Afghan women working to deliver aid and assistance with nongovernmental organizations, and even as U.N. staff.
Last spring, the U.N. Security Council also called for an independent assessment of international engagement with Afghanistan. A special coordinator was appointed and tasked to report back to the council by November 2023 with forward-looking recommendations for how the international community can engage with Afghanistan in more coordinated, more effective ways.
U.N. Special Coordinator for Afghanistan Feridun Sinirlioğlu’s report called on donors to continue and strengthen engagement, development assistance and economic integration with Afghanistan — for the benefit of the Afghan people, in spite of the challenges of dealing with the Taliban. The assessment recommended a road map for reintegrating Afghanistan back into international economic and political systems, contingent on the Taliban meeting Afghanistan’s international legal and treaty obligations. This process would incrementally expand engagement and assistance in tandem with steps by the Taliban to implement and enforce women’s rights, human rights and key commitments on security and other concerns. The assessment also recommended that a U.N. special envoy be appointed to shepherd international engagement and link various processes and platforms.
The Security Council endorsed the report’s recommendations in a resolution just before the new year (but without support from Russia and China). Guterres and many donors hope the Doha conference will help build consensus on a process or road map for collective engagement, as proposed in the assessment.
How does this conference, and the process it seeks to build toward, address U.S. policy interests relating to Afghanistan?
Bateman: U.S. interests in Afghanistan are countering terrorism, obtaining the release of detained U.S. citizens, addressing the country’s humanitarian and economic crisis, enabling the departure of Afghans eligible to immigrate to the United States, advancing human rights and ensuring instability in Afghanistan doesn’t threaten regional stability.
In his January testimony to Congress, U.S. Special Representative for Afghanistan Thomas West said the Taliban were taking sufficient efforts against al-Qaeda and ISIS-K, and described engaging with the Taliban for the release of wrongfully detained U.S. citizens. However, he also underscored the “reprehensible Taliban policies” that continue to repress women and girls, more so than in any other country in the world.
Overall progress to improve the situation in Afghanistan will require more intensive multilateral cooperation and coordination. The United States and like-minded partners want to see the Taliban rescind their oppressive policies against women and girls, and be more politically inclusive. Meanwhile, China, Russia, Iran, Pakistan and other regional states are more concerned about Afghanistan’s economic crisis that could destabilize the Taliban’s hold on power, exacerbating cross-border threats like terrorism, crime, drug trafficking and migration.
The withholding of formal recognition is one of the international community’s main tools of leverage to address any of these concerns. That consensus has held for two and a half years, but it looks increasingly fragile — as signaled by Chinese leader Xi Jinping’s acceptance last month of ambassador credentials from a Taliban representative, amid other stepstoward normalization by regional actors.
The region, less troubled by human rights violations, appears readier to normalize relations with the Taliban than does the United States/West. For the latter, the risk is that the Taliban get what they want from the region (economic and trade ties, the appearance of legitimacy), weakening collective international leverage to push for improved protection of women’s and human rights, political inclusion and shared security interests. And yet regional neighbors also argue that several potential levers to address the economic crisis lie in the hands of the United States and other Western states: continued aid, removal of sanctions and unfreezing Afghan central bank assets. But the West is highly unlikely to make concessions on sanctions or assets, a difficult and messy process both politically and bureaucratically, unless the Taliban take significant steps to reverse restrictions on women and girls and protect human rights. This is highly unlikely under the status quo of Taliban leadership, hence the current impasse. Ultimately, U.S. leverage remains weak.
A U.N. special envoy and a multilateral mechanism for a potential road map to normalized relations with the Taliban (as recommended in Sinirlioğlu’s report), can help align these various interests and levers, and perhaps chart a path to break the impasse. A U.N. envoy may have more credibility with and ability to talk to regional states, as well as U.S. rivals Russia, China and Iran; an envoy can thus be a force multiplier for the United States vis-à-vis Afghanistan.
How will Afghanistan be represented in this conference?
Watkins: In the lead-up to last year’s meeting, there was no representation from Afghanistan.
For next week’s meeting, the U.N. formally invited the Taliban, and reportedly plans to also invite an equal number of other, non-Taliban Afghan participants, to include women and civil society leaders living in Afghanistan. Numerous Afghan activists have publicly called for the participation of Afghan women in this conference and other international forums. Last year’s U.N. assessment explicitly cited the need for women’s participation in both international and domestic political decision-making about Afghanistan.
But how, exactly, Afghan participation will play out remains up in the air. The Taliban have publicly spoken about the conference in vaguely positive terms, but have also quietly conveyed concerns about attending. The Taliban seem to seek assurances that if they attend they will be treated, at least de facto, as the government of Afghanistan. The Taliban perceive the invitation of other, independent Afghan voices as a slight against their legitimacy.
Sources say that the U.N.’s invitation to independent Afghans includes an equal number of men and women, though the details will likely depend on if and how the Taliban attend — this element of the conference is in flux, and may remain so until just before it begins.
What could impede broader international coordination on Afghanistan?
Watkins: The broadest hurdle facing the envoys’ gathering is the tense geopolitical climate: the divide between the United States and Russia and China in the Security Council continues to grow.
China’s steps to normalize diplomatic relations with the Taliban are significant gains in the Taliban’s quest for international legitimacy. China insists that it has not technically recognized the government in Kabul. Nevertheless, warming relations with China are likely to only further entrench Taliban perceptions that they can continue to safely ignore Western demands on human rights and inclusive governance. Russia, for its part, has kept the Taliban at arm’s length, continuing to warn about the threats their regime poses to the global terrorism landscape, but also seeks to stymie any U.S.-led or U.S.-friendly efforts and initiatives in the region.
Even among Western allies, there is a wide range of opinions on how to engage with challenges in Afghanistan — and with the Taliban. France’s position, which is strongly critical of the Taliban and suspicious of widening engagement with their regime, is especially relevant given its permanent seat (and veto vote) on the Security Council. It may prove difficult for the United States to even rally allies and partners around a common position.
Finally, the recommendation for a U.N. special envoy is highly contentious. While the United States has voiced its support for the swift appointment of an envoy, the Taliban have been emphatic in their opposition to such an appointment. Russia and China have been lukewarm on the idea. The envoy is likely to be a key topic of discussion — and could turn into a stumbling block.
In public messaging, the Taliban’s chief complaint is that U.N. envoys are appointed to help resolve conflicts — and they forcefully reject the insinuation that they have not brought peace and stability to Afghanistan. Broadly, the Taliban appear to be averse to the very idea underpinning the envoys’ gathering: that the international community adopt a collective, coordinated approach. As advancing relations with China and other regional countries seem to demonstrate, the Taliban have much more to gain from differing, bilateral engagements — and hope to avoid any chance of being ganged up against.
What would be a successful outcome from the U.S. government’s perspective? What is feasible/likely?
Bateman: The United States would like to see greater consensus on the appointment of a U.N. special envoy and their mandate to shepherd a broader process or road map. But the Taliban are unlikely to drop their opposition to an envoy. Thus, an acceptable outcome might be a quiet concession that an envoy will not be fully blocked from traveling to Afghanistan, or a title change like “coordinator,” which implies a function more concerned with corralling international actors than taking the Taliban regime to task. The United States will want to avoid an outcome that appears to dramatically weaken an envoy’s mandate, or scratches the idea altogether.
Another important outcome would be to maintain, at least for a while longer, the consensus on nonrecognition of the Taliban government (for instance, as conveyed in public statements by the U.N. or individual envoys).
The Doha II conference is not where concrete policy decisions on aid will be made. Nevertheless, a “win” from the U.S. perspective would be to bolster envoys’ commitment to advocate in their state capitals for continued humanitarian aid for Afghanistan — to at least slow the precipitous decline in aid.
It will be important that the voices of Afghan women and advocates of women and girls’ rights have a strong platform at Doha II. The U.S. delegation may also look to individual envoys from a diverse range of countries to underscore human rights issues and Afghanistan’s obligations under international law, to demonstrate a united front to the Taliban delegation. The conference could help reinforce the consensus that normalization will not happen without huge improvements on women’s rights.
Finally, the United States may aim to shore up support for the U.N. Assistance Mission to Afghanistan (UNAMA), whose mandate will be up for renewal by the Security Council next month. If a U.N. envoy is appointed, there will also be a need to clarify the relationship and modalities between the envoy and UNAMA.
What to Expect from the Doha Conference on Afghanistan
Two more Afghan former inmates of the United States’ Guantanamo detention camp have finally returned home after more than two decades incarcerated or in exile. Abdul Zahir from Logar was detained by US forces and rendered to Guantanamo in July 2002, while Bostan Karim from Paktia was arrested by Pakistan a month later and handed over to the US, which took him to Guantanamo in March 2003. In 2017, after the US deemed the two men not to be a risk to its national security, it transferred them, not to Afghanistan, but to Oman. Finally, they are now back on home soil. As Kate Clark reports, the cases against them were among the flimsiest she has looked into of the Afghans who were rendered to Guantanamo.
As they stepped off a plane from Oman at Kabul International Airport on 12 February 2024, Abdul Zahir and Bostan Karim were given a hero’s welcome.[1] There were garlands and flowers, hugs from officials and uniformed members of the security forces kissed their hands. See this video released by the Ministry of Interior, with its celebratory nashid (Islamic anthem) soundtrack, which praises those who defend Afghanistan, the ghazis (fighters of jihad). Billboards showing the two men had been put up at the airport and all along the main route towards the city centre.
A statement from the Emirate’s interior ministry on X said the two men’s return had come about as a “result of the continuous efforts [made by] the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan,” while another post by Ministry of Foreign Affairs Spokesperson, Abdul Qahar Balkhi, expressed the Emirate’s gratitude and appreciation to the fraternal Sultanate of Oman for hosting and taking care of the two individuals.”
Abdul Zahir and Bostan Karim both featured in an in-depth study by the author into the cases of the last eight Afghans held in Guantanamo, which was published in 2016, ‘Kafka in Cuba: The Afghan Experience in Guantanamo’.[2] Each had been caught up in the wave of mass arrests carried out by the US as it sought information about the whereabouts of al-Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden and to hunt down what it referred to at the time as ‘Taleban remnants’. There was little or no actual Taleban resistance at this time – most in the ranks had melted back to their villages, while senior figures who had slipped across the border to Pakistan were often trying to get security guarantees to come home. Even so, the US was determined to detain those ‘remnants’ and its willingness to accept tip-offs and pay for intelligence led to many Afghans being falsely accused by their personal enemies or informed on for money, either by individuals or by the Pakistani state. [3] Zahir appears to have been one such person, as well as Karim.
The cases of Zahir and Karim
Abdul Zahir’s official Guantanamo photo taken from his Joint Task Force Guantanamo Detainee Assessment, dated 19 November 2008, and subsequently published by Wikileaks, available here https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a0/ISN_00753%2C_Abdul_Sahir%27s_Guantanamo_detainee_assessment.pdf.
Abdul Zahir, born in Hesarak district of Logar province in 1972, was detained by US forces in a house raid after an anonymous tip-off that he had chemical weapons stored at his house. This turned out to be untrue: the suspicious substances found at his house turned out to be salt, sugar, and petroleum jelly[4] However, during his interrogation, he told his captors that, before 9/11, he had worked as a choki dar (doorman) and occasional translator for an Arab commander, Abdul Hadi al-Iraqi (real name Nashwan al-Tamir), who was also taken to Guantanamo. During the first emirate, this would have been an uncontroversial job – times were hard, work was scarce and working either for the Taleban’s ‘Arab guests’ or their ‘foreign guests’ (in NGOs) was no indication in itself of ideological persuasion. Even so, the US military accused Zahir of having been a “trusted member” of al-Qaeda.
Years later, in 2016, the body set up by President Barak Obama to assess the threat posed by Guantanamo detainees, the Periodic Review Board, ruled that Zahir had “probably [been] misidentified as the individual who had ties to al-Qaeda weapons facilitation” and had had only “a limited role in Taliban structure and activities.” It deemed him safe to transfer out of Guantanamo.
Bostan Karim’s official Guantanamo photo taken from his Joint Task Force Guantanamo Detainee Assessment, dated 5 June 2008, and subsequently published by Wikileaks, available here https://int.nyt.com/data/documenttools/82387-isn-975-bostan-karim-jtf-gtmo-detainee-assessment/2944f0abe6fdb320/full.pdf.
The other Afghan who has returned home from Oman, Bostan Karim, was a businessman who had been born in Paktia in 1970. He had a shop in Khost selling plastic flowers and was arrested by Pakistan as he crossed the border by bus in August 2002 and handed over to the US in February 2003. He alleged he was tortured with sleep deprivation at Bagram before being rendered to Guantanamo on 6 March 2003. Of all the eight cases of Afghans which the author has looked into, Karim’s file contains some of the most glaring mistakes and muddled accusations.[5]
The evidence handed over to the Americans by Pakistan alleging he was a terrorist consisted of him possessing a satellite phone and some US dollars. Yet both were normal for a trader from Khost province to carry at that time. Unfortunately for Karim, his former business partner (with whom he had fallen out), Obaidullah, had also been detained in Afghanistan a month earlier after an anonymous tip-off accusing him of being an al-Qaeda bomb-maker. During his interrogation, Obaidullah named a ‘Karim’ as his co-conspirator; the US assumed this was Bostan Karim, even though Karim is a common name and that Obaidullah had a brother called Faizal Karim. Moreover, it looks likely that the name had been revealed under torture – at least, evidence for Obaidullah’s having been tortured was presented to the US courts as part of his habeas petition and the government chose to drop allegations based on his ‘confession’ rather than contest his claims of torture. The US decided Karim was the leader of Obaidullah’s bomb-making cell.
Problematic for Karim as well is that he was an active member of the quietist, apolitical missionary organisation, Jamat al-Tabligh, along with millions of other South Asians. US intelligence had decided it was a front for al-Qaeda and that a detainee’s membership automatically pointed to terrorist involvement. Jamat al-Tabligh was not on the US government’s list of terrorist organisations. Indeed, during the first Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan, as Karim testified, he had been targeted by the authorities because of his membership of Jamat al-Tabligh and indeed, the group has regularly come under fire from violent jihadists because of its quietist approach to politics.
Such gross misunderstandings, outlandish errors and fantastical assertions litter the classified intelligence files of the Afghan detainees; they came to light after they were published by Wikileaks in 2011.[6] As evidence of Karim being “a veteran extremist,” for example, one file said he had an uncle who had fought in the “Afghan-Russian war” with Hezb-e Islami, which it described as “one of the seven Al Qaida terrorist groups operating in Pakistan.” Hezb-e Islami was, of course, one of the seven Afghan mujahedin groups, which the US had supported and helped fund, and which was fighting the Soviet army, seven years before al-Qaeda was even established. More examples of the US’ general dearth of knowledge about Afghanistan or apparent ability to find out even basic information can be read about in the author’s 2016 report.
Karim’s perplexity at being in Guantanamo and at the accusations against him was revealed in his statement to an early review body, the Combatant Status Review Tribunal, in 2004:
First of all, I am not a member of the Taleban and I’m not a member of al-Qaida. I’m a business man. I have two stores. In one store, I sell plastic flowers. In the other store, I rent furniture and dishes for special occasions. I am a missionary; I go house-to-house, village-to village, spreading my religion.
Also concerning was how the US courts treated Karim in his long-running petition for habeas corpus. There was some evidence that his supposed ‘co-conspirator’, Obaidullah, may have been a low-level insurgent, although most of the US government’s contentions against him were found to be false during his petition. However, there was no evidence that Karim had been involved in the insurgency. Nevertheless, the judge in each case used the assumed guilt of the other petitioner to incriminate the man whose case they were examining. The judge in Obaidullah’s case said his “long-standing personal and business relationship with at least one al Qaida operative [ie Boston Karim]” was one reason why he must also have been an al-Qaeda member. The judge in Karim’s case quoted that fellow judge, saying that Obaidullah was more likely than not “a member of an al Qaeda bomb cell committed to the destruction of [US] and Allied forces” as evidence against Karim.
In June 2016, his Periodic Review Board, while still believing he presented “some level of threat in light of his past activities and associations,” decided to transfer him anyway, noting that he had been “highly compliant while in detention, has not expressed any intent to reengage in extremist activity or espoused any anti-US sentiment that would indicate he views the US as an enemy.” These were the last months of Barak Obama’s presidency, and after he had failed on his campaign promise to close the camp, his administration did strive to clear as many detainees out of Guantanamo as possible before the end of his second and final term. However, escaping Guantanamo did not mean getting home.
Leaving Guantanamo … but only eventually reaching Afghanistan
In 2017, the US organised for Zahir and Karim to be sent to Oman and for four other Afghans, who had also been cleared for transfer, to the United Arab Emirates (UAE). The Republican-controlled Congress had blocked any Afghan returning home (despite not blocking more than 200 transfers during President Bush’s time in office). The four men sent to the UAE were immediately detained and only finally brought home during President Ashraf Ghani’s tenure; one was from a prominent Hezb-e Islami family and a Hezbi minister had pushed for his repatriation. (For more on their incarceration in the UAE and final homecoming, see the author’s December 2019 report, Freed at Last: Three Afghans sent to Guantanamo in 2002 and 2003 are finally home.) Zahir and Karim, sent to Oman, were treated far better, allowed to settle in the country and for their families to join them. (For more on this, see pages 19-20 of the author’s 2021 report.) Only now, however, have they been allowed to come back to Afghanistan.
On the day of his homecoming, Karim said in a short video tweeted by Hurriyat Radio that returning home meant he felt “I have not travelled at all, nor spent any time in any prison.” Zahir said his joy was such that he had not “the words for expressing my happiness.” Both men thanked God and the ‘mujahedin’ (the Emirate) for getting them home.
Those like Zaher and Karim who have experienced such long-term arbitrary detention, and often torture as well, and the people who have supported former inmates of Guantanamo all say the road to full recovery after such trauma is long and uncertain. Symptoms, wrote Katie Taylor and Polly Rossdale, who have both worked on Reprieve’s programme to help former detainees adjust to life outside Guantanamo typically include persistent insomnia, memory loss, inability to concentrate, confusion, anger, fear and an inability to trust. The particular harm done by conditions in Guantanamo, they say, goes even further:
In Guantánamo mistrust and paranoia have also arisen as a result of specific circumstances: sensory deprivation, isolation, inhumane treatment, humiliation and attacks to identity, the indefinite nature of the detention, administrative and legal practices that exert psychological control, a profound sense of personal injustice, opacity and deception. A lack of confidence is especially noteworthy. According to Reprieve clients, interrogators often pretended to be a doctor or the Red Cross (ICRC) or a detainee’s defence lawyer. … Paranoia and mistrust after many years of experiencing such practices are logical responses to illogical events.[7]
Taylor told the author that three factors could help ex-detainees recover from Guantanamo.
Family support is huge…. Secondly, time. It really is a matter of time and that has to be safe time – not under threat of prison, deportation or other arbitrary things…It takes time for men to recover. [I’ve seen men that] when they first got out, I honestly felt quite pessimistic about their prospects, but after three to four years, such a transformation can happen, it’s really heartening. Thirdly, adaptability or capabilities. This is to do with them as individuals. All of us have our own pockets of resiliency.
These two men, who were wrenched from their homes more than twenty years ago, will find much has changed in their absence. There will be personal losses. Abul Zahir’s mother, for example, died just a year before his transfer to Oman. “She was very anxious,” his brother told AAN in 2018, “and she had a heart problem because of the grief [over her son’s absence].” At least the US army is no longer in Afghanistan. That was a source of dread for earlier released detainees.
Zahir and Karim are almost the last of the 225 Afghans rendered by the US to Guantanamo who are able to come home. Three Afghans died in the camp, but one remains: Muhammad Rahim from Nangrahar, was detained by Pakistan in 2007, rendered first to Afghanistan where he was tortured by the CIA and then to Guantanamo, where he has spent much of the last almost two decades in solitary confinement. As AAN reported in December 2023, the US continues to insist he would be a threat to its national security if released. The “horrors and harms” of Guantanamo[8] for that one Afghan continue, even as his two newly-returned compatriots try to restart their lives back in their homeland.
References
References
↑1
The Islamic Emirate released their names as Mullah Abdul Zahir Saber and Haji Abdul Karim, for example, here.
↑2
AAN’s reports and special reports about the Afghan experience in Guantanamo (the first from 2012) were gathered together in a dossier published in October 2023.
↑3
The mass arbitrary detentions, often accompanied by forced nudity, use of dogs in people’s homes and torture, during this period, were one driver of the insurgency. For more, see the author’s 2013 report, ‘Talking to the Taliban: A British perspective’.
↑4
This was according to Zahir’s Guantanamo Detainee Profile released by the Periodic Review Board from 3 February 2015, the link to which no longer works. However, more details about this and Zahir’s case in general can be read in the author’s 2016 report, pp30-33.
↑5
For more on Karim, see pages 42-45 of the author’s 2016 report. The closely linked case of Obaidullah can be read about on pages 32-42.
↑6
The Joint Task Force Guantanamo Detainee Assessments came to light after they were published by Wikileaks in 2011. The assessments contained background information on the detainees and something of their version of events, as well as allegations against them and the threat they were deemed to pose. There is information about each person’s capture and the reasons for his transfer to Guantanamo and continuing detention. Detainees’ behaviour at Guantanamo and mental and physical health are also detailed. The allegations made are usually very serious, but the Assessments are littered with factual errors, gross misunderstandings and hearsay.
Much of the sourcing is raw intelligence, defined by the FBI as “unevaluated intelligence information, generally from a single source, that has not fully been… integrated with other information, or interpreted and analysed.” An analysis of the sourcing by Tom Lasseter and Carol Rosenberg also revealed dependence on a handful of ‘supergrasses’, eight detainees whose testimony formed the basis of accusations against 225 other detainees, roughly a third of the camp’s population. The reporters noted that such testimony found its way into government evidence presented in court. Because the Assessments were unlawfully disclosed, they cannot be cited in court by defendants or habeas petitioners.
↑7
See Polly Rossdale and Katie Taylor, ‘An Account of ‘Life after Guantánamo’: a rehabilitation project for former Guantánamo detainees across continents’, in Torture, vol 37, no 3, 2017, 44-58.
↑8
The quote is from the now former Special Rapporteur on the promotion and protection of human rights and fundamental freedoms while countering terrorism, Fionnuala Ní Aoláin. In 2023, she became the first independent United Nations investigator to visit the camp. Read her report here, and AAN analysis here.
Home at Last: After more than 20 years, two former inmates of Guantanamo reach Afghanistan
Amid the hard times my country is going through, I have left behind despair and embraced hope.
These days, Afghanistan makes international headlines more and more rarely and when it does, it is always about yet another tragedy. A humanitarian crisis, an earthquake, a deadly attack, a drought, expelled and suffering refugees.
I used to work for Daily Outlook Afghanistan, the first English-language media outlet in the country. In our small newsroom, we recognised the negative psychological impact that the constant stream of bad news had. So we set out to look for positive stories to print side-by-side with our regular coverage and try to counter this decades-old tendency to paint Afghanistan in all-dark colours.
Daily Outlook Afghanistan is no more. The newspaper, like many other media outlets, had to shut down shortly after the Taliban takeover of Kabul in 2021. Most of my colleagues fled to neighbouring Iran and Pakistan; one of them, Alireza Ahmadi, tragically died in the bombing of Kabul airport on August 26 that year. So now there are even fewer journalists in the world looking for the positive Afghan story.
I, myself, fell into the dark trap of fatalism. From a writer, who always viewed and analysed political issues from the positive side and tried to give hope to the readers amid two decades of war and violence, I turned into a man full of chagrin. Life became extremely hard overnight. I was unemployed, struggling to provide for my family. Everything seemed meaningless to me.
I often heard complaints from female relatives about their struggles under the Taliban regime and the ban on secondary and university education. This saddened me and just added to my anguish.
As the months passed, I slowly started to realise that I could offer a lot more than words of consolation. As a Chinese proverb goes: “It is better to light a candle than curse the darkness”.
So I decided to light the candle of literacy and education. I had years of experience as an English-language teacher, having worked with various educational institutions and initiatives throughout Afghanistan. It was time to put it into use.
I found like-minded people who had also decided to start playing a positive role for the younger generation in these hard times. Together, we founded a private academy to teach English in Dasht-e-Barchi, a western neighbourhood of Kabul.
None of us had any extra money, so we had to borrow from friends to cover the expenses of renting a space and equipping it with chairs and desks, whiteboards, solar panels, MP3 players and screens. We put together a syllabus ourselves and passed the registration process with the Ministry of Education.
Despite the ban on secondary and university education, girls are still allowed to study in private education centres. So we have welcomed them as our students, along with boys.
We abide by the legal requirements and keep the girls and boys in separate rooms; we also ensure all female students wear the Islamic hijab in the class as prescribed by the authorities.
We have set a low tuition fee that is relatively affordable and we also offer waivers. Of the 200 students currently studying with us, 15 are not paying and 40 are paying half of the fee. The payments we collect are just about enough to cover the rent.
We teach for free, but we are still rewarded. The daily encounter with so many young girls and boys who want to study and achieve is inspiring.
We have one male student, for example, who recently got into a road accident. A rickshaw hit his motorbike and hurt his fingers seriously. He sent us a message, saying, “I had an accident and going to have a surgical operation. Please pray for me so that my fingers do not be chopped off.” To our surprise, he showed up for class right after he had the surgery.
Another student who inspires us with her determination is a 16-year-old girl who works at a tailor shop where she receives little pay to support her family. She is highly keen on learning English but cannot afford to study, so we gave her the opportunity to join our academy without payment. To cover the cost of books and stationery, she sets aside 10 Afghanis ($0.14) every day from her pay.
I look back at the past few months in which the academy has been open and I feel regret for losing the previous two years to depression and hopelessness. If we had started earlier, we would have helped many boys and girls pursue their education dreams.
Some of the students I taught a few years ago are now studying in foreign countries such as India, Bangladesh, Kyrgyzstan, France and the United States.
But I am also happy that I have left behind the paralysis of despair and embraced hope. I try to help my students fight depression and despair, as well. I try to inspire enthusiasm and optimism and motivate them to be active in their communities and create the positive stories Afghanistan so dearly needs.
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.
Hujjatullah Zia is a journalist and senior writer in Daily Outlook Afghanistan Newspaper
Afghans who got onto evacuation lists may have the chance to go to Europe or North America, if they can get passports and visas for Pakistan. Their first dilemma is whether to go; it is not easy leaving one’s homeland. But there is a second dilemma – whether to spend savings or go into debt to get the necessary travel documents. Many families have faced repeated disappointments and staggering costs trying to get those documents. In this instalment of the Daily Hustle, AAN hears from one Afghan about his painful decision to emigrate and then his, so far unsuccessful, efforts to get passports and visas for all the family.
I’m 46 years old. My wife and I have four children – three sons, aged 16, 14 and 11, and a five-year-old daughter, who’s the apple of my eye. I’ve been working for an international NGO for about 13 years, working my way up the ranks until I was a programme manager. My family and I had a good life. I had a good job and a steady income, which allowed me to provide for my family, put the kids in private school and lend a helping hand to our extended family and people back in our village when they needed it. The future looked bright.But in spring 2021, as the Taleban were capturing district after district across Afghanistan, everything changed. In the weeks and days before the Taleban took over, the atmosphere in Kabul was tense. All over the city, people who were worried about the coming changes were making preparations to leave Afghanistan. Families were selling up everything they owned to pay for their move abroad. The shops that traded in used goods were bursting with household goods – furniture, appliances, kitchen utensils, clothes – their wares spilling onto sidewalks. Driving through the city, you could see people rummaging through what was on offer, looking to pick up bargains. Traffickers were doing a booming business smuggling people to Pakistan, Iran and further afield to Turkey and on to Europe.
Finally, on 15 August 2021, the Republic fell and the Taleban took over the country. They would soon re-establish the second Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan. I was concerned about the future. I’m old enough to remember what it was like during the first Islamic Emirate and I didn’t want that life for my children. I considered leaving the country, but I didn’t think my family and I were at any particular risk. I’d never worked for the government or the Afghan security forces. I still had a job and was earning a good income. I thought my NGO job would also offer me a measure of protection from any ill effects that the change in government might bring. The Taleban fighters who were now everywhere in the city were nice enough, even helpful and, at times, good-humoured. So, I thought we should wait and see what happens. After all, Afghanistan was home.
The decision to leave
Things, however, were not looking great. The economy went into freefall almost immediately after the takeover. For a time, my NGO had trouble paying salaries because of the banking crisis and the cost of basic goods was rising at a dizzying rate. Luckily, we had some savings that helped us through the difficult days and enough money to help our siblings and parents, who were in dire financial circumstances.
The announcement of a general amnesty by Supreme Leader Hibatullah Akhundzada that offered protection to members of the former government and security forces gave me hope. And, to be honest, the security situation was much better. The conflict had ended and people were travelling around the country. They were going back to their villages, some of them for the first time in years, or to places they had always wanted to visit. I thought maybe this time it would be different. Maybe the new Emirate would have space for all Afghans to live in peace and prosperity.
Meanwhile, the NGO I worked for had submitted the names of all staff members to a European country for evacuation. My managers weren’t sure if they could continue operating in the new environment and were very concerned about the safety of the people working here. They asked if I wanted my family to be put forward for evacuation. I said that I did, thinking that I could make a final decision later when the time came. Things were still uncertain both on the ground and in my head and heart. I kept having conversations in my head weighing up the pros and cons of staying versus leaving.
The pull of home was strong, and the idea of leaving my parents and siblings behind was unbearable. There were days when I felt the need to leave and secure a future for my family with a sense of urgency. On other days, I thought I should stay home in Afghanistan. It’s true things were getting more difficult and so many things were uncertain, but the boys could go to school and, as for my daughter, she’s only five years old. She could still go to primary school in Afghanistan and maybe by the time she was ready to go to high school, the Emirate would have re-opened them for girls. And I still had a job.
Finally, the NGO I worked for told me that we had been accepted for evacuation by a European country. A few days later, I received an email from that country asking me to resubmit all our identity documents and start preparing to be evacuated. We had to settle our affairs, obtain passports and gather all the documents we would need in our new home in Europe.
It was time to make a decision. I talked things over with a friend and told him that I was thinking of staying in Afghanistan. He said I was being short-sighted. This, he said, was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to secure a good future for my family. If I passed it up, I might never have the chance to immigrate again and I owed it to my children, especially my daughter, to take it.
That evening, as I watched my daughter play with her doll in the living room, I thought about her future in the new Afghanistan. One of the first things the Emirate had done was to close girls’ high schools, and while they had been promising that this was only temporary, there had been no movement on this front. Eventually, they would bar women from attending university.
Would the Emirate make good on its promise to reopen girls’ high schools and allow women back into universities? Or would she be sentenced to a life of illiteracy and dependence? There was too much at stake. My friend was right. I owed it to my little girl to give her every chance at a better future.
The trials and tribulations of getting a passport in Afghanistan
Getting passports for myself and my family proved to be a difficult task. I tried unsuccessfully for more than six months to get them using the official process. The lines at the passport office were long and the process arduous. When we didn’t hear back, I went to the passport office several times and queued up on the street overnight, but the answer was always the same: We are very busy, there are a large number of passport requests to process and you must wait your turn. Finally, after several months of waiting, I gave up on the idea of getting a passport through the normal channels and started looking for a wasetaI (contact) at the passport office. My friend told me he knew someone who worked there and arranged for a meeting at a teahouse in central Kabul. The wasetal asked for 500 USD for each passport. It was a lot of money, 3,000 USD for six passports, but it seemed to be the only way for us to get them. I agreed to pay and he delivered the passports, as promised, two weeks later.
Time to get visas
Once we had our passports, I contacted the EU country which had agreed to take us for further instructions. They told me to apply for visas to Pakistan, which I did at the Pakistani embassy in Kabul. The visa applications were affordable (180 USD for the six of us or 30 USD per person), but our applications were denied. I then went to a travel agency which acts as a broker for visas to Pakistan and charges 300 USD per visa after it has successfully obtained them. But the visa broker was only able to get one visa. I had to find a way to get the other five visas. I contacted another person who said he could get the visas, again for 300 USD per person. We agreed that I would pay him 300 USD in advance and the remaining 1,200 USD when the visas were secured. This man never came through with the visas. I waited for a month for him to contact me, but he never did, nor would he answer my many phone calls. In the end, I lost the 300 USD I had given him.
Finally, I emailed the European country and explained my difficulties in getting a Pakistani visa. They wrote back quickly and told me that I should get an Iranian visa. It took three weeks to get our visas from the Iranian embassy, which cost 300 USD per person (1,800 USD for my family of six). After that, I was instructed to proceed to Iran’s capital, Tehran, but as we were making the final preparations to leave, they emailed me to say that they were having some issues with processing evacuation applications at their embassy in Tehran. They told me to wait for further instructions. About two weeks later, they wrote again to tell me that the only option was for us to travel to Pakistan.
We were back where we started. I applied again for Pakistani visas for the five of us. I decided to try my luck with the embassy again rather than pay the hefty fees of a visa broker. I paid 30 USD per visa and waited. It took three months for the embassy to issue only two visas, which are valid for 90 days, but the other four applications were rejected. The race is on now. I have no choice but to pay a visa broker 1,050 USD per visa (4,020 USD in total) and hope against hope that these visas arrive before the other ones expire.
Today, the future seems as uncertain as it did that fateful night when I made the decision to leave Afghanistan. Over the months, I’ve spent nearly 10,000 USD from our savings to get passports and visas for us to leave. I try to manage my expectations; we’ve had so many setbacks, and things could still go wrong. But still, I’m hopeful that this time everything will work out. If the Pakistani visas come through, and if the European country is still willing to take us, then hopefully we will soon be on our way to Islamabad and then onwards to our new home in Europe – hopefully.
Edited by Roxanna Shapour
The Daily Hustle: Mission impossible – the quest for passports and visas in Afghanistan
Afghanistan Peace Campaign
A flock of Hazara sheep in Yakawlang district, 2012 – photo by Fabrizio Foschini
