Former US diplomat Zalmay Khalilzad has had a front-row seat to relations between Washington and Kabul for decades.
Normal relations between Afghanistan and the United States are not on the horizon after 20 years of war.
Host Steve Clemons speaks with Zalmay Khalilzad, who was born in Afghanistan and has worked with several US administrations on Afghan affairs. Khalilzad has been the US representative to Afghanistan, Iraq and the United Nations. Most recently, he was US special representative for Afghanistan reconciliation under former President Donald Trump.
In this wide-ranging interview, Khalilzad talks about the chances for national reconciliation in Afghanistan, the country’s $7bn reserve fund held by Washington, and US foreign policy.
The earth has only one atmosphere, and the effects of climate change transcend political boundaries. Afghanistan is one of the lowest emitters of greenhouse gases, but among the top ten countries most vulnerable to climate change. The harm is already evident in the increased frequency of droughts, which are causing hunger and distress, and unfortunately, it is now clear that 2022 will be yet another year of drought in most parts of the country. AAN guest author Mohammad Assem Mayar*, a water resource management expert, looks at how the climate crisis is already affecting Afghanistan and at the likely projections for the future. He considers what the Republic did – or did not do – to reduce the harmful effects of global warming and finally discusses how climate change could be tackled under Taleban rule, now that Afghanistan is poorer, more isolated and subject to sanctions.Looking to the skies for rain and snow
Every year, in winter and spring, Afghans look to the sky to see if snow and rain will fall that year. This last winter began well with higher than average snowfall in the end of December and early January.[1] After that, February and March were drier than average; only in the second week of March was there rainfall.
Winter snow is crucial for agriculture in Afghanistan: in the highlands, the snow acts as a reservoir, melting into the summer season and providing water for irrigation – although if the summer or spring is too hot, fast melting can cause disaster downstream, a lack of irrigation water into the summer or even worse, flooding. In the lowlands, snow moistens the soil, but not enough for rainfed crops to flourish. There, it is spring rain which is needed for rainfed agriculture to yield.
The good snowfall in the end of December 2021 and early January 2022 created hope in the hearts of farmers, and in provinces such as Baghlan, Kunduz, Takhar and Balkh, they sowed their rain-fed lands, even the steep, high slopes of hills inaccessible to tractors. Since then, hopes have faded; the growth of wheat cultivated in rainfed areas has been weak and may not yield a harvest this year. Those with livestock are also concerned. At the beginning of April, herders in Dasht-e Gabar in the west of Baghlan-e Jadid district of Baghlan province told a colleague:
The grass is stressed because of the sun and the weather being hotter than in the past. Grass, which previously had grown to above a half-metre at this time of the year is now only about 10 cm high and turning black in the sunshine. Herders are very worried about the situation – if it doesn’t rain in the coming days, we’ll have to sell our cattle.[2]
Those with access to water from snowmelt are faring better in the north of Afghanistan. However, in the south, the situation is already dire: irrigation water is looking scarce. According to discussions with local people in Jaghatu district of Wardak province and Kandahar city, multiple wells have dried up and people are now lacking drinking water. On 5 April 2022, the Taleban announced they would release Dahla reservoir’s water for twenty-two days to enable farmers irrigate pomegranate orchards, but then stopped the water early. The Dahla reservoir in Kandahar, like the Kajaki in Helmand, did not fill fully. In a normal year, at this time, these dams would be overflowing. Recently, Azadi Radio reported that a person was killed in a water dispute between two villages in the Chak district of Wardak province. Such cases are expected across the country in the future if climate change-induced droughts are not handled.
The Taleban government has not yet declared a drought, and may yet do so this month, as the Republic did. However, it is now evident that in most of Afghanistan, 1401/2022 is another drought year. Moreover, Afghans are learning that what is ‘normal’ in their climate and weather patterns has changed, and changed for the worst.
The upward trend in temperatures is not easily discernible to the general public, unlike the changes in rain and snow fall, but they are evident in the long-term data records. The consequences of higher temperatures are serious, as global warming affects the water cycle, intensifies extreme events such as floods, droughts, glacier melt and storms, and is leading to a rise in sea levels.[3] The earth only has one atmosphere and global warming harm transcends political boundaries.
The release of large amounts of greenhouse gases[4] into the earth’s atmosphere that began with the industrial revolution is the primary cause of the ongoing climate crisis. Developed countries still play the major role in the production of these gases, while poorer countries, smaller emitters of greenhouse gases per head of population, are among the most vulnerable to climate change owing to their dependency on natural resources and their limited capacity to cope with climate variability and extremes. Afghanistan is in the latter category. It is one of the lowest contributors of greenhouse gases (179th out of 209 countries), but is in the top ten countries most vulnerable to climate change (see the graphic illustrating this here).
The very specific driver of the recent droughts is the varying temperature of water in the equatorial Pacific Ocean, the so-called El Nino (warmer than usual) and La Nina (cooler than usual) effects, which plays a significant role in the world’s weather conditions. Variation from year to year is natural, but global warming is making these variations more frequent and more intense, with consequences for many countries, including Afghanistan.
2018 was a severe drought year in Afghanistan because there was a La Nina in the Pacific. The following year was extremely wet and good for farmers in Afghanistan, although with flooding, owing to El Nino in the Pacific. Subsequently, 2020 was a normal year for precipitation in Afghanistan, while 2021 again saw an extreme drought due to the reoccurrence of the La Nina. La Nina is still affecting the Pacific Ocean, and together with the fact that cumulative precipitation over the past six months of the current ‘water year’, which runs from October to September (map is available here), is up to 45 per cent less than average, meaning that Afghanistan’s drought is continuing. Drought and flood extremes in four out of five years show the change in the water cycle in Afghanistan. The increased frequency of these extreme conditions in the last five years are a result of climate change.
The effect of climate change on Afghanistan up to now: from temperature to river flow
Comprehensive and up-to-date analysis of climate change and its projections for the future for Afghanistan was carried out by NEPA with the technical support of UNEP and WFP in 2016, and are available here and here. These analyses highlighted that:
Temperatures have been increasing across the country over the past thirty years. According to this UNEP report from 2016, Afghanistan’s mean annual temperature, which had risen by 0.6°C from 1960 to 2008, had since increased significantly and dramatically, by a further 1.2°C. This shift has intensified glacier and snow melt and led to an increase in the number of flash floods, glacial lake outburst floods and river flooding.
Climate change has doubled the number of droughts compared to the previous decades. Statistically, this affects the long-term average of precipitation and indeed, analyses by WFP, UNEP and NEPA showed a decline in annual precipitation in most of the country’s north and centre.
Afghanistan’s glaciers are melting. Over 14 per cent of the total area of glaciers in Afghanistan’s highlands was lost between 1990 and 2015, researchers found. This pace of decline is expected to continue. (For more details about Afghanistan’s melting glaciers, please read AAN’s report here). Glaciers and snow melt provide base flow to the rivers in the summer and their early melting or decline affect river flow in the summer.
The shifts in precipitation pattern and temperature have also affected patterns of river flow. For example, the author’s research findings reported that river flow in the Kabul River basin has changed slightly with an increase in the number of high and low flow days. This means that flood days, as well as low flow or dry days during the summer season have both increased, with obvious repercussions for water management and the utilisation of water in agriculture and other sectors along the year. It is assumed there have been similar changes in Afghanistan’s other river basins.
Projections for future climate change in Afghanistan
Projections for the climate are made using Representative Concentration Pathway (RCP) scenarios, which vary as to the level of greenhouse gases emitted globally up to the end of the 21st century.[5] Four RCP scenarios were used for climate modelling in the period up to the fifth global assessment report in 2014.[6] Since then, new RCPs have been adopted, but as analysis for Afghanistan using the new climate scenarios has yet to be carried out, the older scenarios are cited in this report. All of the scenarios foresee Afghanistan getting hotter and receiving less precipitation, but to a greater or lesser extent. It is worth stressing that the failure of the world to start seriously to tackle greenhouse gas emissions means that models based on the newer RCP scenarios show even more severe harm to the climate, globally.
Projection of mean annual temperature for Afghanistan for a base period (grey: 1975-2005) and a scenario period (2006-2100) showing the effect on temperature of relatively limited greenhouse gas emissions (green, RCP 4.5, emissions peaking in 2040 and then declining) and uncontrolled greenhouse gas emissions (red, RCP 8.5). The spread of the models are depicted as transparent areas and the means as lines. Both trends are statistically significant and depicted as a dashed line. The magnitudes of the trends are plotted in their relative colours. Source: UNEP and NEPA
Modelling of what would happen to Afghanistan’s climate was carried out by WFP, UNEP and NEPA in 2015. The projections using what they called a “moderate” scenario, (RCP 4.5) would see greenhouse gas emission peaking in 2040 (see their report here) included:
Temperatures in Afghanistan would increase by more than the global average and there would be further melting of glaciers and snow cover, a shift in precipitation from snow to rainfall and a rise in demand for water for crops, with plants possibly requiring extra irrigation.
There would be an increase in drought and flood risks. Local droughts would become the norm by 2030, while floods would be a secondary risk.
Snowfall would diminish in the central highlands, potentially leading to reduced spring and summer flows in the Helmand, Harirud-Murghab and Northern River basins, while spring rainfall would decrease across most of the country.
In the northeast and small pockets of the south and east, along the border with Iran, there might be a five per cent or more increase in ‘heavy precipitation events’ that can lead to flash floods. However, these potentially devastating events might actually decrease across most of the south and other parts of the north.
In the medium-term, the frequency of snowmelt-related floods in spring might increase simply due to accelerated melting associated with higher spring temperatures.
Assessing how the effects of climate change would translate into economic impacts is complicated, although some attempts have been made, for example by the World Economic Forum estimated that climate change could wipe off up to 18 per cent of GDP from the world-wide economy by 2050. However, in developing countries, such as Afghanistan, which are more dependent on agriculture and water resources, the losses from climate change will be more severe than the worldwide average and will directly threaten their food security as well as resilience to natural disasters.
What could be done to help Afghans cope with the looming climate crisis
Attempts to limit the impact of climate change can generally be divided into two categories: climate change mitigation and climate change adaptation. Mitigation is adapting the economy to reduce greenhouse emissions and is less of a priority for Afghanistan, given it is such a low emitter of greenhouse gases, just 0.19 per cent of the global total. However, adaptation is crucial and urgent. Afghanistan is in the top ten of countries which will be harmed by climate change, which means it is imperative to adapt the economy, agriculture, water management, energy and environment to reduce the harm, and strengthen communities’ resilience as quickly as possible.
Tackling climate change requires multi-dimensional actions, including: institutional development (administrative frameworks, strategy, policy, planning, and procedures), legalisation, capacity development and investment on physical infrastructures. Therefore, best practice is to design and implement a comprehensive programme which includes all the affected sectors.
However, in the meantime, implementing local and small-scale adaptation measures can also help to reduce the effects of climate change. For example, rainwater could be harvested by constructing small ponds and dams, storing the water for later use, and playing a vital role in reducing flood risk. Constructing such harvesting structures would be useful nationwide, but especially so in the catchment of karezs. A karez, also known as a qanat, is an ancient irrigation system, with long horizontal tunnels and vertical wells, that taps into the groundwater table in the hillsides, using gravity, rather than any external power. It is the only water resource in many remote areas in the south of Afghanistan. Many karezs are reported to be dry, but small investments could replenish this ancient sustainable water resource. In the winter, when there is less work, people could build small ponds and water barriers in the valleys of their villages using stones and local materials, enabling karezs to operate longer and avoiding them from drying up. Such voluntary, communal work, known as hashar, is familiar to most Afghans.
On a bigger scale, the glaciers in the highlands, which are so crucial for providing meltwater for agriculture, but which are thinning and shrinking, could be compensated for by creating new artificial glaciers. These are developed by slowing down the flow of water during the cold season so that it freezes, enabling additional water to be stored and released more gradually. A detailed article by the author about the feasibility of artificial glaciers in Afghanistan is available here in Pashto and a more explanation in English can be read here.
Furthermore, as climate change affects snow accumulation and melting process, mountain snow now plays less role as a natural reservoir of water for the summer season. Thus, the assessment of what and where reservoirs are needed, conducted during Daud Khan’s regime in the 1970s to determine the country’s hydropower and irrigation potential, is out of date. It did not recommend dams in the highlands; a new assessment is required, which would recommend additional reservoir sites for regulating water to meet the new demand. This would help to better implement any drought risk management strategy and would play a considerable role in mitigating the risk of floods.
Avoiding water losses in any irrigation system helps to ensure a greater area can be irrigated. Investment in the rehabilitation of intakes, canals and water conveyance structures is required. New irrigation technology, such as drip or sprinkler irrigation, although expensive to implement, enables farmers to use water effectively and expand their area of cultivation. A policy of subsidisation could help farmers switch from the less effective furrow irrigation method, where small channels are dug to carry water to crops, to the much more effective drip irrigation method. Afghanistan’s neighbours, Iran and Uzbekistan, have already implemented such policies, waiving farmers adopting such new technology, from taxation for several years.
Reforestation is another adaptation measure that reduces the harm of climate change. Local people can avoid deforestation and work toward expanding the forest cover. Applying drip irrigation technology could easily help expand forests on the hillsides, particularly in the major cities, and would also improve air quality and help to reduce ‘heat islands’ which boost temperatures in the summer months. Forestation also improves the stability of the hillsides, helping prevent landslides and also reduces the risk of flooding by slowing water flow.
As to reducing Afghanistan’s own greenhouse gas emissions, there could be a wider adoption of solar, wind and other renewable energies. Afghanistan has a high potential for solar energy across the country and for wind energy in its western provinces. A policy for prioritising and utilising solar energy by government, in the private sector, by international organisations and wealthier Afghans who use generators when mains electricity fails, could considerably reduce carbon emissions. In rural areas, small ‘discretised’ grids could be established using renewables to provide electricity for homes. This technology has been used, but for extracting groundwater, which is unsustainable and should be avoided. To make groundwater extraction using solar energy sustainable, farmers would have to make sure the aquifers were recharged with an equivalent amount of rainwater.
Tackling climate change in Afghanistan during the Republic
Under the Republic, combatting climate change focused on two types of activities: (1) developing institutions, passing legalisation and formulating policies and strategies; and (2) efforts to secure finance to pay for tackling climate change. Each of these activities is discussed separately below.
What will become clear is how, despite 15 years of efforts, the Republic carried out very little climate change adaptation despite resources, including technical support, being relatively plentiful. The opportunity for adaptation, which Afghans need so urgently, may already have been lost, or at the very least delayed. Since August 2021 and the capture of Afghanistan by the Taleban, the country has again become isolated, far poorer, with deep cuts to development aid, and UN and US sanctions applied suddenly not to an armed opposition group, but to the government and therefore the whole country. Finding ways to help Afghanistan cope with the already devastating effects of climate change has become far, far more difficult.
Institutional development and legislation
Afghanistan had to establish various standard mechanisms and laws as a precondition for getting the help it needed – both technical expertise and funding – to first analyse the likely effects of climate change and then try to mitigate the harm. Such a pathway was deemed necessary in the early 2000s after the Republic was established. However, it should be stressed that it was taken with little urgency by the politicians of the Republic, who seemed to view global warming primarily as yet another demand of the donors that needed paying lip service to, or a new opportunity to gain funds.
Although the global warming trend has been identified since the 1930s, it was not until the 1980s that thoughts about combatting it began and, globally, institutions and platforms to address climate change began to be established. The United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) was signed by 154 states at the United Nations Conference on Environment and Development held in Rio de Janeiro from 3 to 14 June 1992. The convention entered into force with a secretariat headquartered in Bonn on 21 March 1994. The first annual United Nations climate change conference (COP1) was held in Berlin in 1995.
Afghanistan signed this framework convention in 1992, but ratified it only in 2002. That decade was one in which war and isolation meant climate change and its harmful consequences were rarely spoken about in Afghanistan. With the establishment of the internationally-backed Republic at the end of 2001, environmental institutions and laws were gradually established. NEPA was established in April 2005. Afghanistan’s first environmental law was promulgated in early 2007. That law defined NEPA’s function, power and position as Afghanistan’s environmental policy-making and regulatory institution. NEPA’s mandate and institutional structure gradually evolved and in 2010 a division devoted to climate change was established, as one of the six key divisions.
To obtain funds for climate change mitigation and adaptation projects, NEPA prepared a nationwide assessment and other documentation for tackling climate change. It developed a National Adaptation Programme of Action in 2009, following consideration of a wide variety of potential adaptation measures across all sectors. Afghanistan submitted its first national report to the UN framework convention on climate change in 2013 with help from the Green Environment Facility (GEF) and the United Nation’s Environment Programme.[7] (By comparison, Afghanistan’s northern neighbour, Tajikistan, submitted its initial communication in 2002). The first report said that “Afghanistan does not have the institutional arrangement to provide information and know-how on the environmental sound technologies to get easy access by private companies and individuals.”
In 2013, Afghanistan ratified the Kyoto Protocol, which serves to implement the UN framework convention on climate change UN framework convention on climate change objective of reducing global greenhouse gas emissions into the atmosphere in order to stop dangerous anthropogenic interference with the climate.
In 2016, NEPA with the technical support of UNEP and WFP and the financial support of GEF completed a comprehensive analysis of already observed climate change in Afghanistan and projections for the future. In the same year, with the technical support of the United Nation’s Development Programme (UNDP), NEPA developed a Climate Change Strategy and Action Plan for Afghanistan (ACCSAP). Following this research and analysis, in 2017, Afghanistan was able to submit its second national communication; it aimed at providing updated information on the country’s steps towards the implementation of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change. It included a greenhouse gas inventory, a list of sources of emissions, quantified using standardised methods, and the systematic collection and analysis of national climate data. There was also information on how national strategies for climate change adaptation and mitigation were being developed and the strengthening of the National Climate Change Committee as the lead inter-ministerial coordination mechanism on climate change. (For more information about the climate change and governance in Afghanistan please read here).
Climate change affects a wide range of sectors and this was reflected in the National Adaptation Programme of Action and Initial National Communication as: i) agriculture; ii) biodiversity and ecosystems; iii) infrastructure and energy; iv) forestry and rangelands; v) natural disasters; and vi) water. It was recognised that climate change would need to be incorporated into the legislative frameworks, sectoral policies and strategies of the ministries of agriculture, energy and water, rural development, public health, urban development and mining, as well as NEPA and the Afghanistan National Disaster Management Authority. The Ministry of Agriculture, with the support of FAO developed a drought risk management strategy that took climate change into account. Other ministries, including energy and water, had yet to finalise their policies and strategies when the Republic fell and have not done so since.
After fifteen years of institution-building, law-making and fact-finding, a generous conclusion would be that the former Afghan republic had been on the path to incorporating efforts to mitigate the harm of climate change into its policies and strategies. A less generous assessment would be to point to how little it actually achieved. As to the Taleban, on the first day of the COP26 international conference in Glasgow in November 2021, senior Taleban official in Doha, Suhail Shahin, called for the resumption of climate change-related projects which had “already been approved and were funded by Green Climate Fund, UNDP, Afghan Aid” (see his tweets here). Since then, to the best knowledge of this author, climate change risks have not been discussed in any of numerous discussions conducted between the Taleban and representatives of the donor countries in Doha. However, the Taleban have spoken about the need for better water management, which is one of the key components of climate change adaptation.
Efforts to secure financing to tackle the climate crisis
Despite all the documentation and information on funding needs, which are detailed below, the Republic itself did not allocate any specific budget for responding to climate change. The Ministry of Finance in its national budget narrative for the year 2021/1400 claimed that risks due to climate change were not measurable. Thus, it recommended all sectors to finance the consequences of climate change from their available financial resources. The same text was copy-pasted in multiple years’ budgets with no addition or further details, suggesting how little importance was attached to climate change. The one partial exception was the Ministry of Energy and Water which constructed some check dams, small structures built across waterways to store water and reduce erosion, prior to the collapse of the Republic, which could be seen as an action to mitigate the harm of climate change.
Instead, with regard to climate change caused largely by developed-country gas emissions, major efforts focused on securing international financing for addressing the effects of the climate crisis. According to Afghanistan’s Intended Nationally Determined Contribution (INDC)[8] submitted to the UN framework convention on climate change in 2015, the Republic estimated that it would need more than one billion USD per year from donors during the following decade to “overcome the existing gaps and barriers toward sufficiently addressing its climate change adaptation needs.” The government planned to allocate 70 per cent of the 10.7 billion USD expected as financial support for climate change adaptation (until 2030) to watershed management and the expansion of irrigated agriculture. Furthermore, it said that 6.6 billion USD would be needed to reduce greenhouse gases emission in order to meet 2030 goals.[9]
The Global Environment Facility (GEF) has funded most of the climate change-related projects in Afghanistan after 2002. Since the establishment of NEPA, GEF funded various projects through third-party implementers, such as UNDP and UNEP. GEF also funded several projects regarding climate adaptation under the framework of the Ministry of Agriculture, Irrigation and Livestock and other ministries. Third-party implementers (UNEP, UNDP) also secured funds from GEF’s Least Developed Countries Fund programme, established in 2001 in recognition that delays in addressing adaptation needs could increase vulnerability or costs in the future. Those funds supported the preparation of Afghanistan’s National Communications to the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change, the National Adaptation Programme of Action and the execution of three full-size climate change adaptation projects (LDCF-1 from 2013-2016 , LDCF-2 from 2014-2019, and LDCF-3, undated in literature).
More funds became available to developing countries to promote low-emission and climate-resilient development pathways after the Green Climate Fund (GCF) was set up in 2011 under the UN framework convention on climate change. Afghanistan, however, has not yet received funds from the GCF directly as the government administrations tackling climate change (ministries of energy and water, agriculture, irrigation and livestock, rural rehabilitation and development, and NEPA) still lack the capacity (this was even before the Taleban takeover). NEPA established an inter-ministerial board to facilitate development of proposals to the GCF in 2016, but has yet to be accredited for applying for funds.
During COP21 in 2015, a new international climate agreement (the Paris Agreement), applicable to all countries, was signed, aiming to keep global warming at between 1.5°C and 2°C, in accordance with the recommendations of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC). The agreement said that 100 billion US Dollars in public and private resources will need to be raised each year from 2020 onwards to finance projects that enable countries to adapt to the impacts of climate change (rise in sea level, droughts, etc) or reduce greenhouse gas emissions. This funding will gradually increase and some developing countries will also be able to become donors, on a voluntary basis, to help the poorest countries.
Afghanistan does not have an accredited national implementing entity for applying directly to the GEF or GCF for funds. Besides, owing to the low-institutional capacity, even under the Republic, the government could not directly secure the required funds. Therefore agencies like the Asian Development Bank, UNDP, UNEP, the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organisation (UNESCO), the WFP, and the World Bank, which are all accredited for securing this funding, are brokering the process.[10]
The Adaptation Fund is another funding agency that finances adaptation projects and programmes aimed at reducing the adverse effects of climate change on communities, countries, and sectors. The UNDP, on behalf of Afghanistan, submitted a proposal in 2019 to the Adaptation Fund for 9.4 million USD grant in order to rehabilitate karezs. This project was planned to be jointly implemented by UNDP and Ministry of Rural Rehabilitation and Development before the Taleban takeover. Furthermore, the International Fund for Agriculture Development also supported projects under the ministry of agriculture, and of rural development in Afghanistan.
Afghanistan gained the approval for a 17.2 million USD grant of GCF and 4.2 million co-financing of other organizations through UNDP in August 2020 to initiate renewable energy in rural areas of Afghanistan. As of January 2021, 4 million USD of the total 21.4 million USD earmarked for the project had been disbursed, but, since the Taleban takeover, the programme has been suspended.
Under the Republic, considerable technical support and resources were also available to Afghanistan, including the Climate Technology Centre and Network hosted by UNEP which aims to enhance the transfer of climate smart technologies in order to promote adaptive capacity and climate change mitigation efforts in developing countries.[11]
Recent research found that only six per cent of nations had managed to obtain climate change-related funds through their national institutions. Others relied on international bodies to broker the process. According to Carbon Brief, Afghanistan has been among the countries which did not receive funding directly from the UN’s Green Climate Fund. This was the case before and after the fall of the Republic. “Unfortunately, most climate vulnerable, least-developed and developing countries have found it a bit difficult to access,” Dr Emmanuel Tachie-Obeng of the Ghana Environmental Protection Agency and the Climate Vulnerable Forum, told Carbon Brief in January 2022.
After the Taleban takeover
The rupture between Afghanistan and its erstwhile donors and the international system in general, that followed the Taleban’s takeover on 15 August 2021 has hit many activities aimed at mitigating the harm of climate change. The Taleban government has not been recognised by any state, meaning Afghanistan had no delegates at COP26 in Glasgow – although some climate activists tried to independently represent Afghanistan in COP26, they were unable to secure visas. However, the repercussions go much further than this.
The significance of UN sanctions, which targeted named individuals in the Taleban and the Haqqani network, and US sanctions, which targeted the group as a whole expanded suddenly when the Taleban were no longer an armed opposition group but the government of Afghanistan. Programmes which built up government agencies or worked through them were suspended, as was development aid. UN Security Council Resolution 2615 issued in December 2021, provided a more permissive environment, making humanitarian and basic human needs aid much easier to implement, while the US Treasury’s General license 20 (GL-20), issued in late February 2022, loosened up that country’s sanctions “for commercial and financial transactions in Afghanistan, including with its governing institutions” said the press release. The aim, it said, was to ensure US sanctions “do not prevent or inhibit transactions and activities needed to provide aid to and support the basic human needs of the people of Afghanistan and underscores the United States’ commitment to working with the private sector, international partners and allies, and international organizations to support the people of Afghanistan.”
However, the August 2021 rupture also meant that donors have been more careful about funding anything that involves the Taleban administration. Some climate change mitigation measures such as flood protection or drought resilience are classed as humanitarian. However, the major climate crisis programmes that had already been agreed or that were in the pipeline have been suspended. They include:
Funding for significant drought prevention and water management projects such as the 222.50 million USD World Bank project to develop early warning and response systems, the Asian Development Bank’s Arghandab Integrated Water Resources Development project and the Afghanistan Drought Early Warning Decision Support Tool, which was in a test phase.
The 21.4 million USD project for initiating renewable energy in rural areas of Afghanistan implemented by UNDP and the Ministry of rural development has also been halted and faces an uncertain future.
The karez rehabilitation project funded by the International Fund for Agriculture Development and implemented by UNDP and MRRD has been suspended.
A 9.9 million USD-funded irrigation project implemented by FAO and the Ministry of Energy and Water and funded by the Japan International Cooperation Agency was suspended.
Without the now-suspended technical assistance of UNEP and other supporting agencies, NEPA on behalf of Afghanistan will not be able to submit the next national communication reports to the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change. This will also suspend understanding of the climate change effect and monitoring of any progress achieved.[12]
It should be noted that most funding sources would anyway have demanded a full re-appraisal of a programme if the main executing agency had changed as it is the case after the Taleban takeover, ie even in the absence of sanctions.
What can be done to tackle the climate crisis in Afghanistan now?
The potential actions to help Afghans adapt to the looming ravages of climate change are already known. They include: schemes to harvest rainwater, including from small check dams to much larger reservoirs; rehabilitating karezes; changing from furrow to drip irrigation and tillage adaptation; projects that replenish groundwater to support water extraction during drought; introducing crops and trees that require less water; seeding and improving rangeland; constructing artificial glaciers to reduce the variability of meltwater flow and improve water storage; stopping deforestation and; supporting Afghan technical and scientific capacity. They range from community-level projects to major engineering works to social and educational action.
Many questions could be asked about why more was not done during the Republic when funds and technical expert help was plentiful. Now, following the Taleban takeover, far less support is on offer. Some small-scale, community-level improvements are being carried out via UN agencies and NGOs, including aspects even of some of the GEF-funded programmes, especially following the UN resolution of December 2021 and US Treasury waiver of February 2022 eased restrictions. Finding even small ways through the political impasse is still tricky. Generally, work that does not involve the Taleban government and is not aimed at building up government capabilities is the simplest to continue, or to begin. Nationwide, the work going ahead on climate change adaptation is patchy and absolutely inadequate to the scale or urgency of the crisis. Whatever activities are going on could be described, at best, as pathways to be expanded when and if the political situation improves. Adaptation at scale, though, needs government.
It should be significant that adaptation to climate change is not controversial for the Taleban, nor for donors, nor the wider population. Unlike, for example, education, there is the potential for a broad consensus that action is necessary and urgent. Afghanistan also has a strong tradition of communal work so there are grassroots structures and traditions to draw on. Given the political impasse, however, for more donor-funded programmes to get approval, the Taleban would need to accept that state involvement is currently anathema to donors, so if they want climate change adaptations to go ahead, even thought they are the ‘de facto authorities’, they could not expect too much involvement in programmes. For a group determined to emphasise its sovereignty in the land, this is difficult.
And/or, donors would need to reconsider their absolute ban on working with the Taleban government. For example, there could be some re-engagement with those parts of the administration where there are still competent and experienced, politically neutral, technical staff, such as in the Ministry of Rural Development, with possibly a step-by-step engagement that involved monitoring while those ministries proved their bona fides and capability. The donor decision to implement aid programmes via UN agencies without recourse to the Afghan state necessarily diminishes the slowly built-up capacity of Afghan state agencies such as NEPA and ministries such as agriculture, energy and water and rural development. Also, while UN agencies might be the safe choice of donors, reluctant to sustain the Taleban in power, they are exorbitantly expensive, less efficient and tend to know the country less well than Afghanistan’s own civil society. However, working at anything scaled-up needs some state involvement.
The Earth’s climate crisis has been caused by developed countries. The Paris Climate Agreement recognises this and requires them to compensate poor countries for the effects of climate change through sponsoring adaptation initiatives. That agreement recognises that countries like Afghanistan are suffering out of all proportion to the contribution they have made to damaging the planet’s atmosphere and climate. For Afghans, it is additionally unfair that the change of government means programmes backed by global funds are largely blocked when the climate emergency is already hitting the country hard, causing hunger and distress. The need for adaptation is urgent, yet the political impasse over aid and recognition looks to be enduring, and consequently also, the block on most aspects of the major, globally-funded, already-agreed programmes. However, unlike all the other causes of crises facing Afghanistan, the climate change emergency will continue to worsen, regardless of whatever and whenever a political settlement eventually materialises.
* Dr Mohammad Assem Mayar is a water resource management expert and former lecturer at Kabul Polytechnic University in Kabul, Afghanistan. This year, he completed his doctorate at the Institute for Modelling Hydraulics and Environmental Systems at the University of Stuttgart, Germany. He tweets via @assemmayar1.
References
References
↑1
The cause was what is called a Madden–Julian Oscillation event in December 2021. This is an eastward moving disturbance of clouds, rainfall, winds and pressure that traverses the planet in the tropics and returns to its initial starting point after an average of 30 to 60 days. According to one study, it can result in a 23% increase in daily precipitation relative to the mean in Afghanistan.
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A recent follow-up call to Baghlan indicates that rainfed agriculture failed. A Normalized Difference Vegetation Index (NDVI) map backs this up and also shows the failure of rainfed crops in Kunduz. Crops in Badghis, Faryab and Jawzjan provinces are faring better than last year.
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The continuous movement of water in atmosphere (from vapour to liquid and solid phases) is called the water cycle. Water exists in the atmosphere as cloud vapours, and precipitate as rain and snow. Consequently, water flows on the earth before evaporating back into the atmosphere.
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Gases that are emitted from the earth into the atmosphere and trap heat resulting in global temperature rises. Carbon dioxide and chlorofluorocarbons are examples of greenhouse gases.
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RCP pathways are adopted by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change to help modellers work out different climate futures, all of which are considered possible, but vary according to the volume of greenhouse gases emitted in the years to come. RCPs are labelled after their ‘radiative forcing value’, ie the size of the energy imbalance in the atmosphere – more incoming energy from sunlight than the earth radiates to space – as measured in watts per square metre, so RCP2.6 is a scenario with an imbalance of 2.6 W/m2, RCP4.5 an imbalance of 4.5 W/m2, and so on.
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The four scenarios assume that: greenhouse gas emissions peak between 2010-2020 and then decline (RCP2.6); greenhouse gas emissions peak around 2040 and then decline (RCP4.5); greenhouse gas emissions peak around 2080 and then decline (RCP6) and; greenhouse gas emissions continue to rise throughout the 21st century (RCP8.5).
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The regular reports, called National Communication are a requirement made by the fund called Green Climate Facility from all parties to the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change.
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The INDC represents a country’s steps to decrease national emissions and adapt to the impacts of climate change.
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As one example of climate change mitigation during the years of the Republic, under the Montreal Protocol, which sets binding progressive phase-out obligations for developed and developing countries for all the major ozone-depleting substances, including chlorofluorocarbons, halons and less damaging transitional chemicals such as hydrochlorofluorocarbons (HCFCs). Afghanistan is committed to reducing its use of HCFCs, chemicals that are used in refrigeration and air conditions that destroy ozone layer and contribute to climate change, by 35 per cent of by 2020 and 67.5 per cent by 2025. To achieve this milestone, the Afghan republic’s cabinet in 2018 banned imports of HCFC-based equipment, which came into effect in November 2018. Following that, the United Nations Industrial Development Organisation was supporting the Afghan republic in training technicians for customs to implement ban on HCFC equipment. In addition, Afghanistan once restricted importing vehicles more than a decade old , but then abandoned the rule because of the protests from traders, claiming they had placed orders for old cars and Afghans could not afford newer models.
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For example, FAO and the Green Climate Fund joined forces in 2019 to implement the first-ever GCF-funded project in Afghanistan. It had focused on building the capacity of NEPA. Later, another proposal was submitted to extend this project for two more years. The implementation of these projects aimed at enabling NEPA to independently handle GCF-funding projects and lead government coordination on GCF projects. A list of the small projects implemented in Afghanistan and sponsored by various donors is available here.
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In addition, the Asian Development Bank funded a joint master degree programme of integrated water management implemented by the Kabul Polytechnic University and Griffith University of Australia for the employees of the ministry of Energy and Water. Funds for this project were transferred to the Kabul Polytechnic University’s account from ADB at the start of the project, which meant that, after a three-month break following the takeover of the country by Taleban, the programme could resume as normal.
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As UNEP was assisting NEPA in preparing the national communication report for the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change, it could continue this task without the Taleban government’s involvement in order to avoid a pause in climate change monitoring and fill the gap of submitting regular reports to the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change.
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This article was last updated on 6 Jun 2022
The Climate Change Crisis in Afghanistan: The catastrophe worsens – what hope for action?
It has been three weeks since the Taleban announced a new order, prescribing a strict dress code for women, that they should not leave the house without real need and if they do, should wear what is termed ‘sharia hijab’, with face covered entirely, or except for the eyes. The order made a woman’s ‘guardian’ – her father, husband or brother – legally responsible for policing her clothing, with the threat to punish him if she goes outside bare-faced. In this report, we hear from women about how they and their families have responded to the order and to what extent the new rules or guidelines have been enforced. Dress codes may seem less consequential than other changes, such as sending women workers home from government offices, hindering women’s travel or stopping older girls from going to school. Still, instructing women to cover their faces in public seems symbolic of the Emirate’s apparent desire to turn Afghan women into entirely invisible, private citizens again, argues Kate Clark, with input from Sayeda Rahimi.
What women wear outside the home varies across Afghanistan – from the burqa, known in Afghanistan as a chadori,to a more recent introduction, the Gulf-Arab style abaya (alsoknown as a chapan siah), to big, baggy dresses with pleated trousers, to tight jeans and long shirts or coats. It has been extremely rare for Afghan woman, even in recent years, to choose to be seen in public bare-headed, but the style of a headscarf can vary from a very long, full, Iranian-style scarf which covers the head and clothes (often called chador namaz, as many women also wear it to pray) to much shorter and colourful scarves. Scarves can be worn to cover or almost cover the hair, or be tied to leave just the eyes exposed (niqab). The black scarves typically worn with an abaya often come with integral niqab and full face veil options, which can be adopted depending on how ‘exposed’ a woman wants to be – she may feel differently about revealing her face at work, for example, or in the bazaar, or in a shared taxi or bus, or in her own neighbourhood. In Herat, some women wear a magna, which is made-to-fit and pulls on over the head. It may show some or no hair, and may cover the chin, but not the rest of the face.What women wear tends to differ with age, how conservative she, her family or her neighbours are, whether she works in paid employment and how safe or exposed she feels, and of course personal style. As a general rule, in times and places where women and girls feel safer, where they are in greater numbers outside and in the workplace and where probably also, their income is higher,[1] clothing has tended to be more varied and more colourful, with some individuals wearing tighter-fitting clothing and smaller scarves, and more women showing their faces in public.
The Taleban’s new order has boiled all this variation down to two versions of what the Taleban consider to be ‘sharia hijab’ – either a burqa or “customary black clothing and shawl,” that is not too thin or too tight, which is presumed to be a reference to the abaya and which should be worn with a niqab.[2] In doing this, the Taleban have taken to the state the right to make decisions about people’s personal lives which, in Afghanistan, would normally be the preserve of the family.
The best option for women, says the order, a translation of which can be read in an appendix to this report, is the burqa, which has been “part of Afghanistan’s dignified culture for centuries.” This is normal dress for most women in the rural south where most Taleban are from and where women typically live in purdah, ie secluded from all men, except close relatives. The order specifies that clothing should not be tight-fitting, and the material should not be so thin as to allow the body to be seen through it, nor so tight as to highlight “parts of the body.” Women are further obliged to cover their faces, except for their eyes, when face-to-face with men who are not their mahram. The very best ‘hijab’, it says, is for women not to leave their homes, unless there is a need.
The order rules that a woman’s male guardian (wali) should ensure she wears sharia hijab and it is he who will be punished for any violation, with an escalation of response: advice and warning at the first violation, then being summoned to the “relevant department,” then three days imprisonment, and finally, on a fourth violation, a court appearance and judicial punishment.
The new rule speaks of hijab as the noble Muslim woman’s “privilege,” something that gives her “dignity” and protects her from “being led astray or committing sin” and from “the evil and corruption of those who are [morally] corrupt” so that women “cannot easily fall prey to the intrigue of immoral circles.” The dress code prevents her appearance causing social disorder or fitna (the same word can also mean rebellion against a lawful ruler). The order casts women as responsible for men’s behaviour and implicitly blames them for any sexual harassment or worse that they suffer if their clothing reveals the face or shape of their bodies.
Up till now the Islamic Emirate had been giving mixed messages as to whether it intended to police women’s clothing and appearance, leaving the door open, apparently, for local variation. Now the Emirate, or at least the high-ranking commission responsible for the new rule, appears to have chosen almost the most rigid option of all – only slightly more ‘lenient’ than the code during the first Emirate, when women and adolescent girls had to wear burqas.[3]
The nature of the order
The order was announced at a ceremony on 7 May 2022 in Kabul by Muhammad Khaled Hanafi, acting Minister for the Invitation and Guidance on Promoting Virtue and Preventing Vice, (Dawat wa Ershad amr bil maruf wa nahi al-munkir), usually shortened to Vice and Virtue or Amr bil Maruf (media report here). This is the Taleban ministry tasked with policing morality. The document is entitled, “Explanatory and implementation note [proposal, plan ordraft]for sharia hijab”. It is signed by an ad hoc commission of senior Taleban, including the acting ministers of education, hajj and awqaf, and justice, and the deputy director of the Office of Administrative Affairs (the director holds a cabinet-equivalent post), which was chaired by Hanafi. Despite the ceremony, the status of the new rule is not completely clear.
Screen shot of the hijab ruling posted by The Jurist on Twitter.
The order is stamped with the seal of the Administrative Affairs Office director, suggesting it has the authority of Supreme Leader Hibatullah’s representative in Kabul, but there are no other stamps or notes detailing the registration of this order, nor a date. This might indicate the order was issued without the involvement of the bureaucratic machinery, and possibly was not registered or, because there is no consistency yet in this field, this may not be significant at all.[4]
In the absence of a constitution, or clarity on the different types of official documents used by the Taleban, the status of the order is not completely clear. Drawing on traditions of Afghan statehood, it can be said that this is not a decree (farman), which is signed off by the head of state and carries the force of law. The text does contain a hukm, which is an order or command – weaker than a decree, but still with the weight of executive authority. A hukm would typically be used, for example, to grant a petition or appoint an official. However, in this case, the actual order in the document is an explicit, but very general, religious command: “Adherence to sharia hijab is obligatory for [all] noble Muslim females from adolescence onwards.” The rest of the document contains a definition of hijab, describes the different types of hijab, details whom the order applies to, and how it should be implemented. Some Taleban, including the influential Minister of Interior Sirajuddin Haqqani, have insisted the order is advisory only. However, the text leaves considerable room for interpretation on the ground, as AAN’s legal expert, Ehsan Qaane, points out:
Analysing this hukm, based on its provisions, only the part which deals with the punishments of the guardian of a woman deemed to be without hijab could be said to rise to the level of criminal procedures. The larger part of its provisions read as recommendations and guidance and do not fit the legal standards normally found in a legislative order (hukm). However, when it comes to the execution of orders like this one, it is a matter of how individual Taleban officials interpret the order and whether and indeed how they decide to execute it.
The commission’s proposal follows other moves by the state to restrict the actions of women and girls – banning most women from government offices, making it a legal requirement for women to travel only with a mahram (close male relative: either a husband, or a male relative whom she cannot marry, such as a brother, father, son or uncle), gender-segregating universities and keeping schools for older girls closed.
It has been noticeable that the Taleban have introduced rules and restrictions gradually since they took power and that they have recently become much harsher than in August and September 2021. This may be due to the Taleban in general consolidating their power and feeling increasingly able to impose their views on the population. There are also indications that the less ultra-conservative elements (often called ‘moderates’ or ‘pragmatists’) have been sidelined in policy decisions.[5] In the case of public morality, however, even the ‘moderates’ within the Taleban, who generally favour less restrictive rules, believe in the state’s duty to impose norms of behaviour on the population, and many still focus their attention on what women do. Indeed, they may feel that not making the burqa, as it was in the 1990s, the only choice is a concession. (For an exploration of why the Taleban emphasise behaviour, outward appearance and ritual, our 2017 special report Ideology in the Afghan Taleban by Anand Gopal and Alex Strick van Linschoten is enlightening.)
The major question, now, is what the status of this order will turn out to be in practice, how it is received by the population and how assiduously the Taleban seek to enforce it.
To get an idea of what has been happening across the country since the release of the proposal, AAN has spoken to 14 women in 10 of Afghanistan’s 34 provinces. Interviews were conducted in the week of 9 May (ie a few days after the order was circulated on the media). We asked interviewees what they and other local women were wearing before the order, how the order has been greeted locally, and whether the Taleban were moving to enforce it. We made a second round of calls just before publication to check if there had been any developments. The women are from the provincial capitals of Balkh, Badghis, Baghlan, Bamyan, Farah, Herat, Jawzjan, Kabul, Kandahar and Panjshir and are largely young and unmarried. Older women and those living in rural areas may have different perspectives, but even this small sample gives a flavour of the variety of pre-existing norms on what women wear in Afghanistan, the local mores and the concerns – or, in some cases, the relative lack of concern – of women and their families with regard to the Taleban’s enforcement of their dress code.
The impact of the order on how women dress in ten provinces
In Herat, a high-school graduate who works as a graphic designer said that in her city, most women tended to wear chador namaz (Iranian-style chador), a manteau (which could be short or long) or an abaya, and that burqas were worn only rarely. “The order,” she said, “has made no difference to what women are wearing in Herat. Some women are wearing face masks [of the type used to protect people from coronavirus infection], maybe out of fear of the Taleban. I myself wear a long manteau and don’t cover my face.” At the checkposts, she said, Taleban were not checking women’s clothing and Amr bil Maruf, the Taleban charged with ensuring public morality, were not active around the city. She doubted the Taleban could change what she and other women wore.
Herati people are very sensitive in what they will adapt to. The current clothing style is considered hijab in Herat, so no one can force us to change it. If the Taleban forced the people [to change their clothing], they will stand up and organise protests and campaigns – when the schools were closed after reopening, the people and schoolteachers protested. [After the protests, the schools did briefly re-open, before again being closed, the interviewee said.]
Her father, she said, had told her that her hijab was already “perfect” and the Taleban were attempting to impose their ideology on them.
Another interviewee,[6] who is employed at the municipality and who goes into work once a week to sign an attendance form, said they had been ordered to cover their faces at work. She had not done so and had, as yet faced no trouble. She also thought there had been little change in women’s clothing in Herat city, although the number of women and girls now covering their faces with a face mask or a scarf had increased. For herself, she said: “I do not want to quickly obey the rules because if people do that, the Taleban will get used to [their obedience].” As yet, she said, she had not seen Amr bil Maruf inside the city.[7]
A health worker in neighbouring Badghis, described a different situation in her province where most women already wore conservative clothing:
The order has made no difference to what women are wearing in Badghis. We were restricted in the past and we are restricted now. Before the Taleban, almost 70 per cent of older women in Badghis were wearing burqas, while younger women wore white chador namaz, which, in Badghis, women use a part of to cover their faces with. This chador is in our culture and even a 12-year-old girl doesn’t go outside without it. The women in Badghis are still following this style.
She described Amr bil Maruf officials visiting her office the previous week and telling women workers to wear either a burqa or an abaya with niqab. The following day, she said, when they were again at the office, they said her chador namaz did not break their hijab rules, and she could continue wearing it.
The Taleban at checkposts were not bothering women, she said, but were “serious” in their behaviour towards men; her 12-year old brother had returned home weeping the previous day after they had searched him. She thought families might now force their female relatives to start wearing burqas. “So, for instance in my family, even if I don’t want to wear a burqa, my father and brothers will force me to wear it. We Pashtuns are like this,” she said. “My father supports the order.” She said her mother, a school teacher who had herself always worn a burqa outside the house, was also happy with the order. “Afghan women have never lived,” the health worker said. “We have just been alive. Now, we are struggling just to stay alive.”
In another conservative province in the west, Farah, a student at a private university said women there already wore abayas and headscarves, and some wore the face-covering niqab or a face mask. She herself did not cover her face in public, except at the government university, where she said this was now mandatory for female students, as was wearing a black abaya. Her father and brothers, she said, did not agree with the Taleban keeping older girls out of school or compelling women to change their clothing. She said her father, who has seven daughters, was “really sad for us” and told them that everyone has the right to wear their favourite clothes. As a general rule, though, she thought most other people in Farah would have no problem with the order.
Farah is a province that has been restricted for a long time and people have not been free like in Herat and Kabul… Though educated girls might not accept the order and might stand against it, their families will never allow them to [protest].
In Panjshir, a young, now unemployed, woman said she had always worn “proper clothing,” but now her father had said she should get an abaya and her older brother had said she should start wearing a burqa outside the house She said that most of her friends who came to her house were now wearing abayas and “longer clothes,” while she had seen some women locally wearing burqas. It seems that not all of the impetus for change has come from the order itself. She said that due to the large numbers of Taleban fighters in the province, even in the more liberal provincial capital, girls started wearing burqas and abayas “just to be safe from the Taleban because they are so dangerous. Some families have even sent their daughters to Kabul due to fear of the Taleban.” When Afghan women feel unsafe, they typically go out less, and cover up more when they do, to try to attract the least attention from men they do not trust.
In Kandahar, a midwife with ten years’ experience working in private and government hospitals, said the Taleban did not need to enforce the order in her province because women were already following their dress code. “All men agree with the burqa because it has been part of their tradition for a long time,” while “the women who are a little bit freer and who live in Kandahar city are wearing abayas.” She said her female colleagues generally wore black abayas with niqab, as they had done previously, as did most of the women who visited the hospitals, while she herself wore a burqa, and felt “very comfortable with it.” There were times, she said, “when I’ve been speaking as the only woman in front of 70 men including foreigners, wearing a burqa.” Security was better now than under the previous government, she said, and because of that “women have become freer.”
In Baghlan a young woman said that before the Taleban takeover, women had been wearing a mix of clothing, some “clothes like women in Kabul” (presumably manteau, with trousers and a headscarf), while others “wore burqas or abayas.” So far, she said, nothing had changed and Amr bil Maruf had yet to appear in her city of Pul-e Khumri. The Taleban at checkposts had also not sought to impose the order. She said she was already wearing “long clothes” and had previously worn a burqa to go to many places, such as the bazaar, so the order might not make much difference to her life. However, if the Taleban forced her to wear it everywhere, “I’d feel bad because no one likes to be forced to do something.”
In Balkh, the choice facing women is complicated by the fact that secondary schools for girls have remained open since Nawruz, even after the Taleban nationally decided they should be closed. As a result, many women do not want to threaten one hard-won freedom by insisting on another. Our interviewee, who is a teacher, said:
Women are obeying the Taleban order because they don’t want to give them an excuse to close the schools… I think they will be able to enforce this order in Mazar because people don’t want the schools to close.
She said that, given the choice on offer, women preferred to adopt the niqab, rather than the burqa. She herself had worn a burqa for one day following the takeover and found it difficult to breathe: “I couldn’t wear the burqa, but I think I would be able to adapt to it [if I really had to].” Wearing a burqa in hot weather in Mazar, she said, was “heroic.”
As for secondary-aged girls such as her sister, they were now wearing burqas so that they could go to school. The previous day in her street, she had seen Taleban stop two girls from attending class because they were not wearing burqas. She stressed that in her family, the men believed that a woman should not cover her face: “The burqa is not in Islam,” she said, “It is in Afghan culture.” She reported that since the order, the price of burqas in Mazar had gone up.
“I think the order was aimed at the women in Kabul,” said a bank employee in neighbouring Jowzjan. In the past, she said, some women in her province had been wearing “short clothes,” but after the Taleban takeover, that stopped and about 90 per cent of women were covering their faces – wearing a niqab, or a medical mask, or a burqa. Following the order, she said, the ten per cent who had been going outside bare-faced had dwindled further. “Only the elderly and those who have allergies don’t cover their faces,” she said. In her office, she wore a headscarf, in the city an abaya and when she went out into the districts for her work, a burqa. It was more “comfortable” in one aspect because “No one can recognise or disturb me,” but on the other hand, “It is difficult to wear in the hot weather, as I have allergies and become breathless.”
She said Amr bil Maruf were visiting offices and educational establishments offering courses:
They advise women that they must not wear tight, short clothes and must cover their faces, and they tell men and women that they must not see each other, and must study in separate classes… There are so many checkpoints, and, at these checkpoints, they advise the men to have beards and sometimes they even take the men out of the cars for advice. I have not been advised by them yet because I wear a burqa.
She said there had also been an announcement that if women do not wear hijab, they would be fired from their jobs, and their families would be “asked” (to ensure they wore it) and, as a final step, the Taleban would imprison the woman.
Her male customers at the bank had told her the order was making life very difficult for their female relatives. From her own family, she said she had received sympathy and support. Her brother, after walking home from school one day wearing a black medical mask, said he ‘saluted’ the girls who were now wearing black scarves, abayas and niqab to and from school, course or office. Her father was also not happy with the order. She should wear an abaya, her family had said, but it was the up to her whether she covered her face or not:
My family said that if the Taleban came to make me and my sisters’ cover our faces, they would answer them and tell them that our clothing is Islamic, that we don’t wear makeup, and that it is a women’s own choice to cover her face or not.
In Bamyan, a high school graduate said that older women there tended to wear either a chador namaz or a burqa and that girls wore “normal clothes” (presumably manteau, trousers and headscarf). Girls in the provincial capital were “very brave and confident; they wear what they think is suitable for them. The girls neither care what the Taleban think, nor are they afraid of the Taleban.” However, because the order made male relatives responsible for their clothing and the threat was directed towards their fathers and brothers, “many girls,” she said, “are obeying it.” However, in Bamyan, ‘obeying the order’ appears to mean wearing longer clothes and looser trousers than before, with more women and girls wearing an abaya and black headscarf (as our interviewee is now doing), but not covering their faces.
Our interviewee said her own brother had joined Amr bil Maruf, very reluctantly and only because there were no other jobs. He had had to tell her to be careful about her hijab, she said, because of his new role, but his heart was not in the new job. Local men, especially in Bamyan city, were supportive of women, she said. That included her father who had tried to reassure her: “He tells me to be relaxed because the Taleban will only be in power for a short time.”
In recent days, she said, the Taleban have put up several banners in Bamyan city’s bazaar and square, showing a woman with only her eyes visible and with the order: “My sister: Observe your hijab.” She also said Amr bil Maruf had put up notices on schools gates, shops and other places in the provincial capital reinforcing the order, threatening that “anyone who does not follow the Islamic hijab and the guidance of the Islamic Emirate will be dealt with by the law; the responsibility will lie with them.”[8]
It is an irony that during the first Emirate, the banners and notices would themselves have been illegal. The Taleban then condemned all depictions of people, animals and birds as shirk – idolatry – and Amr bil Maruf punished people who violated this order.
In Kabul, known among Afghan women living outside the capital for its relative freedom when it comes to women’s clothing, we spoke to three women in this vast city, to give a flavour of the variety of experiences there.
A woman in charge of monitoring and evaluation for an NGO who lives in Dar ul-Aman and works in Qala-ye Fathullah, said: “A month ago, I was wearing normal clothes to the office, but now the environment is so restricted, I don’t have the confidence to go out without an abaya.” She had had a nasty encounter with a Taleb on a checkpost who shouted at her and two colleagues about their clothing. “Since that day,” she said, “we all are so afraid, we have face masks with us and put them on at checkpoints so the Taleban won’t say something or stop us.” Many more women were now wearing abayas, she said, and some even niqabs and black gloves:
In the past, women were not like this at all and this clothing style is absolutely what they do not want to wear. It is one hundred per cent forced and imposed on women, as it is on me and my family members. No one likes to be covered up this much in hot weather. Women are also human. We need to breathe.
She said most of those enforcing the ban were Taleban at checkposts, whose responsibilities were not clear to her as they have “no specific uniform,” but, she said, they were “the worst”: “[They] are on the roads and have nothing to think about, other than that women must be covered.”
Contrary to the “many people” who had said that, as a Pashtun, she should welcome the order, she said her father had made no comments about what she should wear. She herself had chosen to wear an abaya, she said, to protect her male relatives from the Taleban and she would even wear a niqab if forced to, in order to protect them. She questioned the Islamic validity of the order:
Parents and guardians were Muslims before the Taleban and were careful of their daughters’ clothing in the past and women were observing hijab. My father has no issue with my clothing and has said nothing about it. If the Taleban question him, he’ll say that his daughter’s body is covered. If he has no problem with [what she’s wearing], then who are the Taleban to talk about his daughter’s clothes?
Another woman in Kabul, a teacher-training studentwho lives in Dasht-e Barchi, the Hazara-majority western neighbourhood, said people in her area were open-minded, which was why the clothing style had been “free” there: girls were wearing jeans, shirts (sometimes short), and long or short manteaux. In the first days of the Taleban takeover, she said women and girls were afraid, so had put on longer clothes or abayas, but slowly, as they observed that the Taleban were not restricting them, they began again to wear the clothes they had worn in the past. Many though, she said, put on an abaya or chador namaz when going outside Barchi, to university or work.
The Taleban’s Amr bil Maruf has not come to Barchi yet [this had changed by the time of the follow-up interview when Amr bil Maruf was present in the neighbourhood], but they stand at Pul-e Sukhta because most women are crossing there when they go to university and office. Many days in the morning I saw Amr bil Maruf questioning girls about why their faces were not covered or their hair not [properly] covered. Amr bil Maruf, in their white coats and white cars,[9]are the ones enforcing this order; the ordinary Talebs and the Taleban police don’t say anything about women’s clothing.
As for her, she said her family was a little religious, so she never had worn very short clothes, but after the Taleban took power, she had bought an abaya despite her father not being happy about it. “He said that in this hot weather, it is hard to wear black clothing.” As for wearing a burqa or niqab, she said that was just “excessive – what I am wearing now is hijab enough.”
A third woman we spoke to in Kabul is one of the small band of women still holding public protests. She said she was already wearing an abaya and covering her face:
I wear the niqab, not to obey the Taleban’s order, but to fight against their rules. In resistance, there are some tactics that we can use to achieve the desired aim. I wear the niqab so that I’m not recognised or arrested by the Taleban, because if they arrest me and my friends, there would be no [women’s rights] movement.
She thought the Taleban’s tactic of making a woman’s guardian responsible for her clothing would ensure greater compliance: “Normally, women accept any kind of violence to keep their family, their father and brothers safe from disrespect and insult.” Because of this, she said, many women would feel forced to obey an order which they had had no part in making, nor any desire to uphold. She said, however, that she had the support of her family in her activism:
Even though my father and brothers are under serious threat, still they will never agree to the Taleban’s rules, not one of them. They also are against this order. It makes them worried about my security, but they do support me in the fight for the next generation of women. If today we don’t stand, tomorrow our children will not have the right to go to school or live freely.
How the women we spoke to feel about the order
The interviews indicate that the impact of the Taleban’s new order, if strictly implemented, will be felt differently across Afghanistan. In places like Kandahar and Badghis, women’s local dress already largely complies with the new code. In other provinces and places, where women have been used to greater freedom and variety, many women have felt forced to amend what they wear, but are loathe to go all the way and cover their faces when they go outside.
Many of our interviewees spoke about feeling frightened, either directly of the Taleban, or of what the Taleban might do to their fathers and brothers if they judged them in violation of the new rules. Some spoke about the psychological impact of the order on their confidence, others of feeling they would not want to leave the house, if forced to wear the burqa or abaya and niqab. It was notable that in many cases their unhappiness was not just about the type of clothing they would have to wear, but the fact that they would be forced to wear it and would have no say of their own and, for those with supportive fathers and brothers, that their family’s autonomy to make decisions had been taken away.
In Mazar, our interviewee said that wearing a burqa or abaya with niqab felt like a necessary sacrifice so that older girls had the best chance of being allowed to keep going to school. In Panjshir, our interviewee described it as a necessary protection against hostile men, in this case Taleban. This matches the experience of those interviewees who were already wearing a burqa when they went to places where they expected to feel exposed, for example, rural districts, or the bazaar. For the women’s rights activist in Kabul, the niqab is a sort of necessary camouflage.
For those women and girls not used to wearing a burqa the thought of it, or the brief experience of trying it out, is nightmarish. The bank worker in Jowzjan said:
At the beginning of the takeover, I wore a burqa for a day. It was so difficult to bear the weight of it and to breathe…. If I have to wear it, I will feel like a free bird being caged. It would be like losing all my freedom to work, my choice, my movement.
The bank worker from Jowzjan who wears a burqa when she goes to the field, also said it was like being a caged bird:
We must wear a burqa because most of the people are staring and the Taleban themselves are also staring. But when I wear a burqa, it gives me a feeling like I am a prisoner, a person who is unable to defend herself, a helpless human being.
The health worker from Badghis said she also already wore a burqa when travelling to the districts, but, “It was my own choice; it would be difficult for me to accept it being forced on me.” She added:
[Being forced to wear it] would be like [the Taleban] were disappearing us completely from the world.
In particular, the enforcement of face coverings, especially the burqa, is viewed by many of our interviewees not only as a physical imposition, but symbolic of the wider restrictions on them as women. As the NGO monitor from Kabul said: “Wearing a burqa or niqab would make me feel like forgetting my all and last hope as a woman.”
The women’s rights protester expressed a similar sentiment:
Human beings are created free, to be able to breathe, to be comfortable. [Choosing one’s] style of clothingis everyone’s basic right. All in all, the burqa is a cage, a chain and an insult. It would be difficult to work, study and move in a burqa, [but that is not all]; it would also be an insult to me. [Wearing] a burqa would be the start of me having no plans, no potential for development or aims because it would imprison not only my body, but also my professional identity and my talents.
Like some of the other interviews, she also defined the issue as not about hijab per se: “Our people have no problem with hijab because hijab has always been valued in Afghanistan. Our protest is against obligatory clothing.” She classed forcing women to wear certain clothing as an act as shocking as removing women workers from government and non-government offices, closing schools for older girls and arresting women protestors; acts that were “anti-woman and violent,” intended to “roll back society.”
Many of our interviewees also disagreed with the Taleban’s contention that the order was about religion. “This clothing style is not in Islam,” said the NGO monitor in Kabul, while the health worker from Badghis argued:
Sin and clothing are personal. The government is not responsible for guiding us to jannah [heaven]. It is responsible for providing livelihoods, work, and other necessities for the people.
If more women do follow the Taleban’s dress code, according to the bank worker from Jowzjan it will be because they have to; it will not be “from the heart.”
Concluding remarks
It is not clear where it all goes from here. This may be an interim period before universal enforcement, as in Iran after the Islamic revolution. The order could be part of negotiations within the movement surrounding school opening and possibly women working. Amr bil Maruf may be trying to test the water to see if it has enough backing within the movement and whether the population seems acquiescent enough for it to clamp down harder on women’s clothing and possibly other rights. The order could also still be quietly treated as advisory.
For now, however, everywhere where the burqa or something similar was not already universally worn, interviewees reported that the order has had an impact on what women wear, as they amend their clothing, primarily in order to avoid potential trouble for themselves or their male relatives. In many places, there have been moves by Amr bil Maruf and/or Taleban at checkpoints to impose the order, usually phrasing it as ‘advice’, although, in Kabul, reported one of our interviewees, by shouting at women to obey it.
Our second round of calls, made in the last few days, showed the Taleban are still mainly disseminating messages about the hijab. In addition to the notices threatening legal action against violators in Bamyan, AAN also heard that in Daikundi’s provincial capital, Nili, Amr bil Maruf had mounted a speaker on top of a car and had driven round the city, advising women to observe Islamic hijab. In Kabul city, as well, a resident in west Kabul reported that the Taleban had put up a notice at the entrance of apartment blocks in her neighbourhood again telling women to observe hijab.[10] There have been no reports of guardians of ‘hijabless’ women being contacted or punished. Nor have there been the sort of public beatings of women deemed to be breaking the Taleban’s dress code, or their guardians, that were seen in the 1990s.
Amr bil Maruf’s usefulness for the Taleban during the first Emirate, as the enforcer of rules on behaviour and appearance, always went beyond ensuring Afghans followed the Taleban’s idea of how good Muslim men and women should behave and dress in public. They were a key element of how the state controlled the population, especially in the cities, an effective means of keeping people frightened. The ministry’s intrusive role may well have helped the state gather intelligence and monitor for potential trouble-makers. It is not clear from the interviews conducted for this report if the role of Amr bil Maruf will turn out to be the same this time round. Interviewees spoke of them visiting mosques, offices and universities, but only a few spoke of them being present at checkposts and none had seen them patrolling the streets, as they did in the 1990s. This may change, of course.
During their first Emirate, the Taleban encountered little public protest against their rulings on behaviour and dress. The country had suffered the horrors of civil war; in Kabul, for example, which the group captured in 1996, tens of thousands of people had been killed and a third of the buildings destroyed. The defeated and demoralised population was relatively easy to control. There was disobedience to Taleban laws – some girls were taught and some women managed to do paid work, people watched videos and listened to music at home – but rule-breaking was done quietly, in secret and in fear, knowing that punishments could be severe. As to clothing, some women pushed at the boundaries: if they could afford it, some women in Kabul wore fashionable shoes, and ‘nice’ clothes under their burqas, which they allowed to billow as they walked to show off what they were wearing underneath.
Twenty years on, the population of cities like Kabul and Herat is far larger. Afghan women and girls and their families, in general, have become used to a much greater degree of freedom and autonomy to make their own decisions. The Taleban may face opposition to this new order, as they try to erase women’s lived experiences of greater freedom, and put their aspirations to be public citizens back in a box. Although, it may seem as if clothing is at the minor end of freedoms, what people wear is both personal and symbolic – and has political implications that are linked to the demonstration of power.[11]
It is significant that the main thrust of the new order is about women covering their faces. The ruling follows two decades in which many women have had public faces and public voices, including as ministers, MPs, judges, professors, street cleaners, TV presenters, police and office workers. Of course, not every girl or woman has had the choice to go to school or get paid work or travel during the Republic – the enjoyment of legal rights was patchy, and corruption, incompetence and poverty meant education and other services did not reach everyone. However, as our special report Between Hope and Fear. Rural Afghan women talk about peace and war, published in July 2021, revealed, many women, even those living in very conservative areas, hoped that peace would bring more freedom when it came to education, travel and playing a greater role in their society. Yet, the end of the conflict has in practice enabled a clamping down on the freedoms that at least some women and girls had enjoyed, and a diminishing of the hopes of others.
Since the takeover, public protest has dwindled as it has become more dangerous. Women’s rights activists have proven the bravest of all, but the Taleban’s response has been harsh – detaining and, reportedly, beating women protesters. Still, the Taleban may find that pushing the state back into people’s lives will be more difficult, and less universally backed within the movement during their second Emirate than it was in the first.
Annex: Translation of the text of the sharia hijab order[12]
A brief descriptive and practical note [proposal, plan or draft] regarding sharia hijab
In the name of God, the most gracious, the most merciful
Although there were constant and systematic countrywide efforts to make women ‘hijabless’ [bi-hijab], fortunately 99 per cent of the proud women of [our] jihad-loving nation still adhered to hijab as sharia and a proud Afghan tradition. The remaining [one per cent] should also follow this obligatory sharia ruling [hukm] as there are no excuses and obstacles [preventing them].
Hijab ruling [hukm]:
Adherence to sharia hijab is obligatory for [all] noble Muslim females from adolescence onwards.
Definition of Hijab:
Any clothing covering the body is considered hijab, providing it is not so thin the body could be visible through it, nor so tight as to highlight body parts.
Hijab types:
The burqa, which has remained part of the dignified Afghan culture for centuries, is the best form of sharia hijab.
Customary black clothing and shawl called ‘hijab’ is also sharia hijab, provided it is not thin or tight.
Not venturing out without cause is the first and best type of adherence to Sharia hijab.
Hijab observance classifications:
According to sharia guidance, females who are not too young or too old are obliged to cover their faces, except for their eyes, when face-to-face with men who are not their mahram [husband or other close male relative whom a woman cannot marry]. This is in order to prevent [social or sexual] disorder [fitna].
Benefits of observing hijab:
Sharia hijab is the command of God Almighty, and its observance is obedience to his command.
Hijab is the privilege of noble Muslim women.
Women wearing hijab are safe from being led astray or committing sins.
[Hijab makes them] dignified and honourable.
[Hijab] protects them from the evil and corruption of those who are [morally] corrupt.
[With hijab] they cannot easily fall prey to the intrigue of immoral circles.
Methods and steps of hijab implementation
Encouragement:
Explaining the importance and benefits of the hijab ruling and the harms of being without hijab through media and mosques.
Displaying hijab-promoting texts and related stickers in markets, parks, and public places.
Warning andthreats:
For the first time, after identifying the home of a hijabless woman, her guardian should be issued with advice and warning.
In the second instance, her guardian should be summoned to the relevant department.
In the third instance, the guardian should be detained for three days.
In the fourth instance, the guardian should be handed over to the Courts for appropriate punishment.
Women not adhering to hijab while working in the Emirate administration, should be dismissed.
If wives and daughters of government employees and civil servants do not adhere to hijab, their jobs should be suspended.
Assigned Team:
Sheikh Mawlawi Muhammad Khaled Hanafi, head [Acting Minister Amr bil Maruf]
Sheikh Mawlawi Abdul Hakim, member [assumed to be the Acting Minister of Justice]
Sheikh Mawlawi Nur Mohammad Saqeb, member [Acting Minister of Hajj and Awqaf]
Sheikh Mawlawi Shahabuddin Delawar, member [Acting Minister Mines and Petroleum and former member of Taleban negotiating team in Qatar]
Sheikh Mawlawi Nurullah Munir, member [Acting Minister of Education]
Sheikh Mawlawi Fariduddin Mahmud, member [Head of the Academy of Sciences]
Sheikh Mawlawi Nurulhaq Anwari, member [Deputy Director of Administrative Affairs and former member of Taleban negotiating team in Qatar]
References
References
↑1
Even in places where some women generally wear less conservative clothing, like Kabul, poorer women may prefer a burqa because it hides clothes they may not feel proud of. Additionally, during the Republic, some women who were working and who had previously worn burqas said they felt the abaya and headscarf, and possibly niqab, or even a full face-veil were ‘smarter’ and more fitting for someone earning an income, while still protecting their modesty.
↑2
Whereas in much of the Arab and wider Muslim world, ‘hijab’ refers to a woman covering her head, ie a headscarf, in Afghanistan, hijab tends to be used for clothing that covers the head and body more fully. In parts of Afghanistan – as in the Taleban’s order – a woman may be considered ‘bi-hijab’, ie without hijab, if wearing, for example, a long Iranian-style manteau and headscarf, or shalwar chemise (piran wa tomban or punjabi) and headscarf.
↑3
There were then extremely few exemptions: the Taleban never forced Kuchi women to cover their faces, even when their caravans travelled through Kabul and other cities, and were never able, or perhaps did not want to police women in remote rural areas where the burqa had never been customary. The author recalls just two other women who were allowed to be bare-faced in public: General Suhaila Sidiq, then-director of the 400-bed military hospital in Kabul, and her sister, Shafiqa, who had been a professor at Kabul Polytechnic when it was open. According to a 2002 Guardian interview quoted in this AAN obituary, a precondition laid down by Suhaila for her to return to work as a surgeon after the Taleban captured Kabul in 1996 was that neither sister would be forced to wear the burqa; her skills were much needed given the ongoing war and the Taleban’s war-wounded.
↑4
Even during the Republic, it was only in the latter years that a law on legislative documents formally defined different types of order (hukm) and decree (farman).
↑5
The pronouncement, for example, that secondary schools for girls would remain closed after the start of the new Afghan school year after Nawruz, in late March, after the Ministry of Education had planned and prepared their re-opening, appeared to have come about because of the weight of conservative, rural mullahs within leadership circles – see our report here.
↑6
Our first interviewee was not available for the follow-up call, so we spoke to a second woman in Herat.
↑7
Our second interviewee said that at Herat University, the Taleban had attached banners with a famous poem quoting a saying attributed to Fatima Zahra, daughter of the Prophet Muhammad (used also by the Islamic Republic and Iran and Afghanistan’s Shia mujahedin militias):
Oh woman, this is how Fatimah addresses you:
The highest value of a woman [lies in her] observing the hijab.
↑8
For the attention of the dear fellow citizens of Bamyan
This is to notify all Muslim and pious sisters and mothers that from now on, they should observe the Islamic hijab seriously [and] avoid any kind of clothes that are short, tight or leave the face open [uncovered]. From now on, anyone who does not follow the Islamic hijab and the guidance of the Islamic Emirate will be dealt with by the law; the responsibility will lie with them.
With respect
The Department for the Protection of Virtue and Prevention of Vice
The Complaints Registration Office of Bamyan province
8 Jawza 1401 [29 May 2022]
↑9
“White coats” refers to the new uniform for Amr bil Maruf, ie white piran wa tomban and sometimes white lab coats.
↑10
In the follow-up calls, only the interviewees in Herat and Bamyan reported further changes in how women dressed since we first spoke to them shortly after the ruling was circulated; in Bamyan, our interviewee reported that more women were now wearing abayas and black headscarves, but no one was covering their face, while our second interviewee in Herat said she had seen increasing numbers of women and girls covering their faces with a scarf or face mask.
↑11
In Afghanistan’s history, as elsewhere in the Muslim world, forced veiling or unveiling has marked out various changes of regime. Imposing conformity of clothing can also be a vehicle for achieving political ends, for example, as described by Rema Hammami in Gaza in the late 1980s. At that time, the forerunners of the Islamist group, Hamas, the Mujamma, “through a mixture of consent and coercion” and the failure of secular Palestinian men to defend a woman’s right not to cover their heads, managed to transform how Gaza ‘looked,’ thus establishing “a kind of cultural dominance” that belied the group’s actual popularity or strength. Changing what almost all women wore in a matter of months succeeded in bolstering the actual political strength of the Mujamma immeasurably. Rema Hammami, Women, the Hijab and the Intifada, MERIP, 164-165, May/June 1990.
↑12
With thanks to Daud Junbish for the translation from the original Pashto.
REVISIONS:
This article was last updated on 2 Jun 2022
Women across Afghanistan navigate the Taleban’s hijab ruling
Afghan analysts suggest that commitments made by the Islamic Emirate in Doha during their talks with the United States need to be fulfilled.
US-based research organization, RAND Corporation, has offered three options for Washington’s policy on Afghanistan, suggesting the United States should either come up with engagement, isolation, or opposition.
Explaining its suggested options, RAND says in a 28-page research paper that a “policy of engagement with the Taliban regime offers the prospect of advancing US interests to the degree that the Taliban show some willingness to engage constructively in return.”
It suggests that cutting ties with the al-Qaeda network, and observing human rights, particularly girls’ access to education, are the main conditions that need to be considered by Kabul.
About its second option, isolation, it says that such a policy “would seek to punish and weaken the Taliban regime and change its behavior while signaling the US and broader international disapproval of that regime.”
As a third option, the research organization suggests a policy of opposition to remove the Islamic Emirate from power, but it adds that “there are two fundamental problems with a regime change strategy: First, it is not feasible under current conditions… and second, even if it were feasible and would succeed, the US would find itself once again supporting a dependent government in Kabul against local resistance with no better prospects of ultimate success than its last such effort.”
However, the research organization says that although engagement offers the only possibility of actually advancing American interests in Afghanistan even marginally, isolation remains the default choice.
“It is the proverbial alternative B nestled between alternative A, surrender, and alternative C, nuclear war, in the classic caricature of a Washington options memo,” the research organization concludes.
This comes as concerns are growing by the international community about the humanitarian situation in Afghanistan along with other matters, including the future of girls’ education and women’s role in society.
An Islamic Emirate spokesman, Inamullah Samangani, said that relations between Afghanistan and the US “will benefit other countries too.”
“There is no other option but engagement for any side and there should be an official engagement between the Islamic Emirate and the international community,” he added.
Meanwhile, the Russian special envoy for Afghanistan, Zamir Kabulov, in an interview with ET said that respecting human rights, women’s access to work and girls’ access to education are the main preconditions for recognition of the Islamic Emirate.
“While Russia has allowed a Taliban representative at the Afghan diplomatic mission in Moscow, we have not officially recognized the Taliban government. The Taliban flag is not flying atop the Afghan Embassy in Moscow. The ball is in the Taliban’s court. They have to create a politically inclusive government in Kabul. Russia is also not happy in the way the Taliban is treating the women and girls,” Kabulov said in the ET interview.
Afghan analysts suggest that commitments made by the Islamic Emirate in Doha during their talks with the United States need to be fulfilled.
“They (Islamic Emirate) should fulfill the decision and pledges they made in Doha. This can be the only option to prevent the US from criticism; otherwise, there will be no engagement” said Sayed Ishaq Gailani, head of the National Solidarity Movement of Afghanistan.
Download full RAND report: https://www.rand.org/pubs/perspectives/PEA1540-1.html
RAND Offers Three Options for US Policy on Afghanistan
(CNN) Whether it’s providing a safe haven for terrorist groups like al Qaeda or installing officials who face United Nations sanctions in cabinet positions, the Taliban is up to its old ways, according to a new report issued by the UN on Friday. While the report does not mention former President Donald Trump or President Joe Biden by name, it is an indictment of their administrations’ failed policies in Afghanistan. The 25-page report says that the Taliban “remains close” with al Qaeda, which now has “increased freedom of action” in Afghanistan.
Underlining that increased freedom of action, the leader of al Qaeda, Ayman al-Zawahiri, “has issued more frequent recorded messages,” appearing in eight videos since the Taliban took over Afghanistan last August, according to the UN report. And al Qaeda has renewed its pledge of allegiance to the leader of the Taliban.
The UN also points out that an astonishing 41 members of the Taliban who are on the UN sanctions list have been appointed to the cabinet and other senior-level positions in Afghanistan. Among them is Sirajuddin Haqqani, the leader of the Taliban Haqqani Network, which the UN says now controls key Afghan ministries such as the interior ministry and the departments of intelligence, passports and migration.
A previous UN report identified Haqqani, Afghanistan’s acting interior minister, as being part of the leadership of al Qaeda, marking the first time that the terrorist group has had a member in a senior cabinet position anywhere in the world. Haqqani is also on the FBI’s most-wanted list.
All of this demonstrates how deeply flawed a strategy it was for the Trump administration to negotiate a “peace” agreement with the Taliban — and how misguided it was for Biden to abide by that agreement once he assumed office.
In 2018, the Trump administration started negotiating directly with the Taliban, eventually coming to an agreement that the United States would withdraw from Afghanistan providing that the Taliban would not let the country become a haven for terrorists and agree to enter into genuine peace negotiations with the Afghan government.
The Trump team signed the agreement with the Taliban in 2020 and Biden, who said he was forced to either abide by that deal or escalate the fighting in Afghanistan, chose to pull out all US troops in August last year.
It’s worth noting this agreement wasn’t ratified by the US Senate, and instead was a deal negotiated with a terrorist/insurgent group that failed to stick to their end of the agreement. It was also a deal that had been struck without any substantive involvement of the elected Afghan government.
As the new UN report makes clear, the Taliban did not break with al Qaeda, noting that the terrorist group has instead “used the Taliban’s takeover to attract new recruits and funding” while the core al Qaeda leadership “is reported to remain in Afghanistan: more specifically, the eastern region from Zabul Province north towards Kunar and along the border with Pakistan.”
And of course, the Taliban didn’t come to a peace agreement with the Afghan government. As the Americans hastily withdrew from Afghanistan, the Taliban instead overthrew the elected Afghan government.
After they seized power in Afghanistan in August, Taliban leaders gave their first press conference and told the assembled journalists bald-faced lies about how they respected women’s rights. Taliban spokesman Zabihullah Mujahid said, “Our sisters, our men have the same rights; they will be able to benefit from their rights.”
This was, of course, nonsense, but some wishful thinkers had bought into the fantasy of some kind of “Taliban 2.0.”
Instead, we now have just the same old Taliban. They have banned girls from school above the sixth grade; they have insisted that women need a close male relative to escort them if they travel long distances; they have declared that women need to be covered from head to toe and have instituted punishments for male “guardians” who don’t enforce this; more than 200 media outlets have closed in Afghanistan, and the Taliban have presided over an economy that is in free fall.
The UN report states that the Taliban “are, in large part, the same Taliban movement that was deposed in 2001.” The UN also notes that the top posts in the Taliban government “have been given to the Taliban’s ‘old guard.'”
Meanwhile, the Taliban continue to allow foreign terrorist groups to use Afghanistan as a base. The largest such group is the Pakistani Taliban, which numbers several thousand fighters, according to the UN.
For the past six months, the Taliban have also imprisoned without charge five British citizens, including businessman Peter Jouvenal, a friend of mine who once worked with CNN as a cameraman. The Taliban have also held American contractor Mark Frerichs for more than two years.
The UN report does have some qualified good news, concluding that the Afghanistan branch of ISIS and al Qaeda are not believed to be “capable of mounting international attacks until 2023 at the earliest.”
This is a more optimistic projection than the one delivered by a top Pentagon official, Colin Kahl, in October 2021. Kahl testified before a US congressional committee that ISIS’s affiliate in Afghanistan could mount external operations “somewhere between six and 12 months” while “al Qaeda would take a year or two to reconstitute that capability.”
That said, the Taliban is in a stronger position today than the last time it was in power. That was before the 9/11 attacks, when it was fighting the Northern Alliance, a not insignificant opposition force.
The Taliban today hasn’t significantly changed any of its social policies, nor has it abandoned its alliance with al-Qaeda. We have seen how this movie plays out in the past. To paraphrase an observation attributed to Mark Twain, while history may not repeat itself, it certainly may rhyme.
Peter Bergen is CNN’s national security analyst, a vice president at New America, and a professor of practice at Arizona State University. His forthcoming paperback is “The Cost of Chaos: The Trump Administration and the World.” The views expressed in this commentary are the author’s own. View more opinion on CNN.
Opinion: Trump and Biden were both foolish about Afghanistan. Now we’re all paying the price
A major focus of the international humanitarian response to Afghanistan’s economic collapse has been a ramped-up distribution of food aid, as large parts of the population no longer have the income to buy enough food for their families. In this fourth instalment of our economic research based on interviews conducted across Afghanistan, we look at the reach, scope and implications of food aid distribution at the community and household levels. In our sample, we found that around half of the families had, by mid-February, received some form of food assistance at least once, although the quantity, food items and methods varied. Interviewees were grateful for the much-needed help and hoped it would continue, but there was also a recurring concern that those who needed aid the most may not be receiving it. Interviewees in particular described favouritism and interference in the selection of beneficiaries and, to a lesser extent, corruption and capture. And while the aid had provided relief and allowed the interviewees to feed their families, many were acutely aware that it did little to address their long-term need for employment, livelihoods and a revived economy.
Afghanistan’s economic collapse following the Taleban takeover in August 2021 led to widespread poverty, precariousness and food insecurity. The United Nations responded with a wide-ranging Humanitarian Response Plan (HRP) to the tune of USD 4.4 billion – its largest single-country appeal to date. Around half of the requested funds were earmarked for food security and agriculture, and aimed to reach 22.1 million Afghans, which is around, or over, half of the country’s total population.[1] The programme, however, has had to readjust its ambitions due to underfunding and may need to contract even more in the future.[2] Whereas the UN had intended to increase the size of the food aid basket to accommodate 100 per cent of an average household’s needs, it has had to downscale to a smaller size of 50 or 75 per cent. It had also intended to increase the duration of aid per household, from four, to eight or twelve months, depending on the severity of the food insecurity.
According to the World Food Programme’s (WFP) 2021 annual country report, a total of 12.3 million people received WFP food aid in 2021 (15 million, if also counting nutritional aid) – a 67 per cent increase compared to 2020, and 14 per cent more than initially planned. In the month of December 2021, around 7.9 million people received food assistance, compared to 1.5 million people in August (when numbers were probably particularly low, due to the conflict and political upheaval of the Taleban takeover). Since then, WPF has significantly scaled up its assistance, reaching more than 17.5 million people in 2022 so far, and hoping to assist 18 million people in May.
In June, however, WFP will begin to scale down its assistance, to reach around 10 million people – almost halving the number of people who will receive food and nutritional aid. After that, the assistance will be scaled up again in October, in line with the onset of the ‘lean season’ –resources permitting. The scaling down in June will, according to WFP, be in line with the harvest season. However, it also reflects the impact of significant funding shortfalls, as indicated in the sombre warnings of the latest IPC, or Integrated Food Security Classification, report, which foresees the possibility of an even greater reduction in assistance:
With below average prospects for the harvest in most of the country, several factors are further expected to hamper the foreseeable seasonal improvement.… More specifically, at household level, the situation is compounded by the forecasted reduction of Humanitarian Food Assistance after the month of May.
HFA is expected to decrease from 38% of the population receiving on average two third food ration in the current period, to 8% in the June-November projection due to lack of funding.[3]
The funding gap WFP currently faces is USD 1.4 billion for the 2022 response. It is beginning preparations for the much-needed prepositioning of food stock in hard-to-reach areas ahead of the 2023 winter season, but will require USD 150 million to do so.
Humanitarian programmes in Afghanistan had to scale up quickly, given the immense needs, and under difficult circumstances. They have, according to the 2022 HRP, been faced with impeded access, decreased operational capacity of partner organisations on the ground, ambiguities on the role of local Taleban authorities, a lack of clarity surrounding new rules, including around the employment of women, logistical problems and the difficulties posed by the country’s struggling banking system (see also this AAN primer). The lack of sufficient funding, moreover, means that difficult choices have needed to be made on where and how to focus resources. It is against this background that Afghans across the country spoke to AAN about their experiences of food aid, whether they had received any yet, and what they knew and thought about the distribution process.
AAN’s research
This report is part of AAN’s ongoing research on what it is like for Afghans to live in a country where the economy has collapsed. In our first round of interviews, carried out in November and December 2021, we found that some households had already received food aid. We then added a series of new questions to our second round of interviews, specifically focusing on people’s experiences and perception of the delivery of aid. The findings of this piece of qualitative research are based on thirty-six in-depth, semi-structured interviews, conducted between 24 January and 16 February, by phone or in person. The research sample includes men and women in twenty-two provinces across Afghanistan and represents a wide range of ethnic and socio-economic backgrounds. The findings are complemented by general information about the humanitarian food assistance programme provided by WFP.
In the interviews, we found that food aid distributions had indeed been taking place, including in remote areas. Almost all interviewees said there had been recent food aid provided in their village, district or neighbourhood and a little over half of the interviewees had themselves received aid at least once since August 2021. The few who said they did not know whether aid had been provided in their area, tended to be, sometimes previously, wealthy people who lived in a large city.[4] The report focuses on the aid provided and administered by WFP, since this was what most of the interviewees had experience or knowledge about (although in a few cases other organisations were also mentioned).[5]
The interview questions did not explicitly focus on problems with the aid distribution or beneficiary selection[6] so it was striking how many interviewees told us that they thought the process was unfair and subject to manipulation. Many believed that the beneficiary selection was marred by favouritism and interference, and that the delivery of aid was vulnerable to corruption, capture and abuse. Several interviewees called on the UN and the NGOs who manage the food distribution programmes on the ground, to tighten local management and step up verification and monitoring efforts.
It is not always easy to determine from the interviewees whether the allegations may be true, or if they are mainly based on misunderstandings, or generalised perceptions of unfairness and abuse, but it was striking that it made very little difference whether interviewees were thankful that they had received aid, or frustrated that they had not been given any. Even people who said they had not pursued assistance because they believed they were better off than most, expressed misgivings about the fairness of the process. There was, in particular, a general sense that those in charge of the beneficiary selection favoured the people they knew, and/or were unable (or unwilling) to withstand the pressures to include those who were actually undeserving of aid.
In the report below, we will first look at who received aid, who did not, and what was received. Then we will look into the process of beneficiary selection, in urban and rural areas, and the allegations of favouritism, corruption and abuse. We will discuss how some communities have tried to sidestep these problems by redistributing the aid they received, as well as the slippery line between Taleban involvement and interference. We will then, finally, look at what humanitarian food aid can and cannot alleviate.
I. Who was selected to receive food aid and what did they get?
In terms of who had received food aid in our sample we found that:
More than half of the interviewees – 20 out of 36 – reported that, by mid-February 2022, their household had received food aid at least once.
Nine interviewees, or a quarter of the sample, indicated that they had not tried to receive aid or had even declined it when offered. They said they believed the aid was not meant for them, since they were not as poor as most others.
Seven interviewees, or close to a fifth of the sample, had not received food aid by mid-February, even though their situations seemed dire as well. Three had been registered or surveyed in some manner, but had yet to be given actual aid distribution cards. Four others had not been surveyed or listed, even though they had tried a lot.
Interestingly, we found that in some cases the food assistance had been redistributed among a much larger group of people than it was intended for. At least three interviewees explicitly described the process, while two or three others also seemed to imply this is what happened in their area (see below, for more details). This means that more people reported to us that they had received aid than the NGOs providing the aid are likely to have counted. It also means that each person receiving aid in this way, received a lot less than WFP and its partners considered they were, nutritionally, in need of.
According to WFP, The contents of a standard food assistance package are calculated based on the daily caloric needs of an average household of seven and the IPC categorisations of the provinces. A 100 per cent daily kcal for people is 2100. In IPC-3 provinces – with a food security crisis – people receive 50 per cent rations, and in IPC-4 provinces – where they have a food security emergency – this is a 75 per cent ration size. In IPC 4 provinces, this translates to approximately 75 kg of wheat flour (or other cereals), 7 kg cooking oil, 9 kg of pulses (yellow split peas, red beans, lentils) and 0.75 kg of salt. In IPC 3 provinces this translates to approximately 50 kg of wheat flour (or other cereals), 4.5 kg of cooking oil, 6 kg of pulses and 0.5 kg of salt.
This package, however, may vary. In some cases, commodities may be substituted according to local availability or community preferences, while maintaining the kcal requirements – for example, by providing rice instead of fortified wheat flour. Access to funds and the timing of resources can also impact the availability of food. Procurement begins after the funds arrive and it takes on average 4-6 months from the time the funds arrive to deliver the assistance on the ground, especially when commodities are sourced regionally or internationally. Unforeseen supply chain disruptions can cause additional delays.
This largely matches what the interviewees told us. Out of the twenty families who had received food aid at least once, most of them had received a sack of flour and some bottles of cooking oil, with one or two, sometimes more, other items added.[7]
I received aid four times in the past months. The first and second time, they gave me a sack of flour and a sack of wheat. The third time, I received a sack of flour and some yellow peas. This month, I received a sack of flour, yellow peas and five one-litre bottles of cooking oil. – Homemaker from Jawzjan (five children, husband is away)
We received aid from WFP three times, with the same [aid distribution] card. The first time we received flour and salt, and the other two times they gave us flour, oil and 20 small packets of something that prevents malnutrition in children. – Former government employee from Badakhshan (extended family of twelve)
I received aid from WFP twice. Both times, they gave us a sack of flour and a five-litre bottle of oil. The first time they also gave us something for the children, to prevent malnutrition. – Teacher from Laghman (family of ten, with one son in Turkey)
We received aid once. In total, around 70 families in our area received [aid distribution] cards. They all received flour, oil and beans.– Muezzin from Balkh (household of four)
We received aid twice, a sack of flour and a bottle of oil. All the people [in our village] received it. – Teacher from Nuristan (household of nine)
I received aid twice. The first time I received a sack of wheat and some oil. The second time I received oil, a sack of flour and a small amount of lentils. – Labourer from Ghor (household of eight)
We received aid from WFP twice. Both times they gave us a sack of flour, 24 kg rice, a five-litre can of oil and 3.5 kg salt. – Former government employee from Paktika (extended family of fourteen)
The starting point of the assistance may vary per household, since WFP has been adding new beneficiaries each month. In terms of the duration, WFP had planned to provide monthly assistance to food insecure households for a period of eight or twelve months. This may, in practice, not materialise, due to funding shortfalls, issues with the availability or timing of resources, or possible reprioritisation based on overall levels of vulnerability.
Out of the twenty families in our sample who had received food aid between August 2021 and mid-February 2022, eight families had received aid once; seven families had received aid twice; four families had received aid three times and one family had received aid four times.
The woman who had received aid four times, had however been told that she had come to the end of the validity of her distribution aid card:
I received aid four times, once every month. But now my card’s expired.They told me my turn was finished and they’d given the new cards to our neighbours, even though some of them are rich and have big houses.… My other neighbour and I went to the provincial administration office recently to submit an aid request letter [arizeh], but they returned the paper and said it wasn’t possible. Now my name is not listed for any other future aid. I don’t know what to do.– Homemaker from Jawzjan (five children, husband is away)[8]
Another interviewee seemed to believe that people were listed – or possibly vetted – for each separate distribution:
I received aid from WFP, flour and oil, twice. WFP has again listed our name, but they haven’t contacted us yet. – Teacher from Laghman (household of ten)
Most households we spoke to, who had received aid cards, did not know how long the card would be valid for, or how often they would receive aid. This can probably be largely explained by the fact that funding uncertainties make it difficult for NGOs to make firm commitments to local communities, but it does add to a sense of insecurity and possibly a perceived lack of transparency.
Who had not received any food aid (yet)?
The sixteen interviewees who had not received any food aid (yet) could be divided into two groups:
those who needed aid and often had proactively, but so far unsuccessfully, tried to get it – seven interviewees, or close to a fifth of the sample;
those who indicated that the aid was not meant for them because they were better off than other people (or who simply had not commented on whether they needed the aid or not) – nine interviewees, or a quarter of the sample.
A former NGO cook in Kabul city, who had not been included in the neighbourhood’s food distribution (but whose family had received some food from an NGO that supported former government officials) blamed the system of beneficiary selection:
It is mostly NGOs and private [charity] organisations that distribute the aid. There is no problem with them; the problem is with the people who make the lists. For example, the wakil-e guzars don’t work honestly. They misuse their position and write the names of their relatives and people they know. There are families who are really needy, but who don’t get anything. And there are people who aren’t in need, who’ve received aid twice. It’s not done fairly. – Former NGO cook from Kabul city (extended family of fourteen)
A former mullah from Helmand described how in the end, all families in his area had been registered after the people had vehemently complained, but said that none of them had received any aid yet:
The staff of the NGO, together with the Taleban, came to our area once, but they registered only two families from four villages. When the people criticised the registration, saying: You registered only two families out of a total of 40! they promised to come back and register each family. And they did, but I haven’t seen any of these forty families receive any aid yet. I think aid is important. It’s very important, for those who can get it. But it’s useless for those who are only registered and who don’t receive it, or for those who aren’t registered at all. – Former mullah from Helmand (household now of six, after the recent death of his two-year old son)
Despite the fact that many of the interviewees believed the Taleban interfered in the process in favour of their own members and relatives, the one Taleb in our sample had not received any aid yet and had not even been able to register (his status within the movement is unclear). He told us:
So far, the NGOs have distributed oil, flour and lentils, but my family hasn’t received any. The commanders, area and village elders introduce people to the NGOs, but they haven’t introduced us yet. No one listed our name or surveyed our house. I went [to the NGO] and asked them to include us, but they told me to go and ask our local representative.… Out of ten beneficiaries who received aid, I think only one might be really needy. The rest are people who have wasita [connections] and most of them are already rich enough. Of course, the government plays a role in this corruption too.– Taleb from Logar (household of twelve)
A landlord from Kabul city told us he had voluntarily opted out of receiving aid. He was as critical of the process as those who had so far been involuntarily left out – something we also found in other interviews, as we shall explore below.
They distributed aid several times in my area: food items, like flour, cooking oil and beans, and also money. Someone, probably the representative of our area, came to my door one day and asked for my ID and phone number. My son called me and said they wanted to provide us with assistance, so I told him to thank them and tell them we weren’t deserving of it and that they should give it to the poor people instead. It’s the right of the poor people, but in reality those who don’t deserve it often get even more than the poor. – Landlord in Kabul city (household of seven)
Interestingly, one of the interviewees who in an earlier round of interviews in December 2021 had also told us he had opted out of aid, now said he had relented and received the aid that was offered, after all.[9] This is a reminder that people’s situations, and perceptions of how much they can handle, can change over time.
II. The tension-ridden process of beneficiary selection and aid allocation
The part of the process that elicited the most consistent criticism was that of the beneficiary selection and, to a lesser extent, the aid allocation per district and village. The interviewees described a process in which the beneficiary selection was done by the NGOs with the help of local representatives, in particular the wakil-e guzars and wakil-e kuchas (heads of city neighbourhoods and street representatives) in cities and towns, village councils and village heads (qarya dars), and possibly also local mullahs, elders and commanders. In some areas, there also appeared to be a role for government officials, either directly in the beneficiary selection or in a more general capacity. Several interviewees described visiting delegations of local government officials that accompanied the NGO‘s staff. Others described how they had petitioned the governor’s office or other government departments in the hope of being added to an aid distribution list.
The interviewees’ complaints included favouritism and an unfair selection on the part of the local representatives, interference and corruption by Taleban officials and other members of the movement, and a failure to prevent, report or stand up to these practices by NGO staff. Several interviewees called for tighter monitoring and better management of the allocation, selection and distribution processes.
Because the interviewees may be describing processes that they do not have full visibility on, we asked WFP to describe the beneficiary selection and aid allocation processes to us. They are, in short, as follows:
At the central level, WFP draws up initial plans, including its provincial targets, based on the resources available, with the aim of assisting all those facing IPC (emergency) 4 and a percentage of people facing IPC 3 (crisis). Actual distribution plans are made based on vulnerability analyses at the district level which draw on WFP’s Integrated Context Analysis (taking into account the factors such as the impact of drought, mass unemployment, conflict, remoteness, lack of services, historical poverty and marginalisation). WFP uses this same process at the community level with the help of local stakeholders and partners who are considered to have knowledge and experience of the specific contexts and conditions of the area.
The individual household selection is done by a committee of key community stakeholders, that aims to be inclusive and representative, based on 13 vulnerability criteria.[10] The vulnerability criteria for households include: headed by a woman or child; no adult male; dependency ratio of 9 or more; no adult male of working age or adult working women; headed by a person with disability, chronic illness, or elderly; poor asset holdings; residing with or hosting other households; living in emergency or makeshift shelter; relying only on borrowing, begging, or zakat; relying on casual labour by one member; no source of livelihood or income generating activities; one or more members having disability or chronic illness; referred by protection agencies; a pregnant breastfeeding mother and/or child under 5.
Cooperating partners, usually an NGO, are obliged to provide a list of committee members so that WFP monitors can verify that these people exist and have fulfilled the roles they were selected for. The committee’s preliminary beneficiaries list is verified by the cooperating partner, usually an NGO, through individual interviews and/or household visits. The process is followed by WFP staff who carry out spot checks, as well as a network of third-party monitors.
The beneficiary selection process as described by the interviewees
The interviewees’ description of the beneficiary selection process largely centred around the role of what WFP calls the local stakeholders and, to a lesser extent, the cooperating partners, or implementing NGOs.
In urban areas, many interviewees described a beneficiary selection process that seemed to hinge on the role of the wakil-e guzars (neighbourhood representative), who in a tiered system collected the relevant information from wakil-e kuchas (street representative) and passed it on to the NGO responsible for the distributions. Views on the exact role of NGOs in the beneficiary selection tended to vary. Several interviewees, like for instance this woman from Sheberghan, described how NGO staff carried out home visits to ascertain eligibility:
Our wakil-e kucha provided me with the aid card. He brought the observers to my home. They came and saw my house and kitchen. … Each month the [NGO] office gives out five new cards. They distribute the aid in turn, one village per day. – Homemaker from Jawzjan (five children, husband is away)
Others, however, indicated that they believed the NGO staff simply let the wakil-e guzar decide the beneficiary list – for instance, this man from Kabul, who had not received any aid and had not been surveyed:
Since the international aid began, it has been given through the wakil-e guzar and the charity organisations. The local representatives each make a list of the people, with their phone numbers and ID card numbers, and give it to the wakil-e guzar, who gives it to the relevant municipal district and to the NGO that distributes the aid. Then the representative of the NGO contacts the people and asks them about their situation. Sometimes they check and survey their homes, but most of the time, they just call and then the wakil-e guzar selects the people. – Former gardener and taxi driver from Kabul city (household of ten)
Like many others, he believed that those selecting the beneficiaries favoured their own relatives.
Our family and the people who live close to us haven’t received any aid…. Out of 50 families, five were selected by the wakil-e guzar to receive aid. Then, in turn, another five families were selected. However, the wakil-e guzar and the street or area representatives try to select their own relatives and people who come from their own area. Those who are really in need don’t get anything. They’re even not on the list. – Former gardener and taxi driver from Kabul city
A student from Farah city told us that, although their home had been surveyed, the family had not yet received an aid distribution card.
They came and surveyed our house, several times, but we still haven’t been given anything. The last time they came was two weeks ago. They didn’t give us a card and they didn’t call us. They just took [the details of] our tazkeras. – Student from Farah city (extended family of fifteen)
She described her frustration that they had not been able to receive any aid, despite trying, while others who did not need it, were getting aid more than once.
I know the process is based on wasita because I’ve seen neighbours receive aid, even though they’re rich and aren’t vulnerable. No, they’re not with the Taleban; they’re just well off. My father talked with the wakil-e kucha many times and each time, the man told my father: “Just wait, we’ll give it to you.” But whenever the aid arrives, he tells us it’s already finished. Each time the aid comes, it’s supposed to be for five needy families on our street, but it’s given to the same families each time. And the cash donations that are meant for widows are given to girls who are still single or to women whose husbands are alive. The distribution process should be transparent and clear and aid should be given to the vulnerable, not to those who will only sell it in the market. But it’s not transparent, nor clear. They come and survey our houses and then give the aid to others. But what can we do? Even if we raise our voices, no one listens.– Student from Farah city
One of the interviewees, who himself was not in need of aid, described the problem in a more round-about way, by saying that he had talked to the wakil-e guzar in his own area in an effort to persuade him to act honestly and to direct the aid to those who need it (implying that the man is not doing that now).
In general, of the aid and donations that UNICEF and other international organisations distribute, at least 50 per cent isn’t given to the poor and needy. It is the wakil-e guzar and wakil-e kucha who have the responsibility to introduce people to the NGOs or to divide the aid themselves. In our area, the wakil-e guzar has a list of people according to their different economic levels.… I talked with our wakil-e kucha, because the situation is extremely bad. We have to act honestly according to what our religion has ordered. So I told him, it’s not good to include rich people in the list of the poor and needy. I think he’ll now try his best to divide the donations among the needy people. – University professor from Herat (extended family of twenty)
Others described the tensions within the community and the pressures the wakil-e guzars were under, and how that sometimes meant that poor people who did not advocate their case forcefully were left out.
Those who don’t deserve it also get assistance and they often get even more than the poor people. They quarrel with the wakil-e guzar and because he doesn’t want to stand up to them, he just registers anyone who quarrels. There are poor people who haven’t received any assistance, because they don’t want to quarrel. Actually, the assistance has spread violence and tension among the people. Sometimes people argue with the wakil-e guzars and sometimes they argue among themselves.– Landlord from Kabul city (household of seven)
One of the interviewees was a wakil-e guzar himself. He first described the process in general terms and then explained the difficulties he faced, since not enough aid was arriving in his community and many families would complain to him about the selection process. He clearly found his responsibility testing:
When the organisation came, they called me to come. They asked one tribal elder and one mullah from each mosque in our area. We all gathered in a mosque and shared the [details of the] population of our villages with them. I helped them and took them to see my area; they met the poor face-to-face and interviewed them. First, they listed the disabled, widows and orphans, and then they listed the other needy people.
In my guzar (area), where I prepared the list, we have 800 families and 11 mosques. So far, they gave aid to almost 60 families. When the distribution happened, the Taleban sent their observers to monitor the process. The NGO is still surveying and selecting beneficiaries. A few days ago, they called the people and took their biometric data for the next round. No one knows what they will distribute, because they don’t disclose that to anyone.
The way the NGOs distribute aid is problematic because they only help 10 per cent of the people. So when they leave, the people come to me and complain and say: “Why didn’t you give aid to us too?” All the people are poor and hungry, but the NGOs give aid to only a few families and then they leave. When the others complain, I have to tell them that I have no solution and can’t help them. It’s like that: if one person receives aid, the others will complain and be sad.
It has created a lot of discord. Some people link the process to ethnicity. They think the wakil-e guzars give aid to their own tribe and relatives, but in reality the NGOs do the distribution and the wakil-e guzar has no role or interference. It’s very difficult for us to make all these people understand how the NGOs operate. – Businessman from Baghlan (household of ten)
Elsewhere in the interview, he had described how his own economic situation had been steadily deteriorating, as prices rose and his business floundered. The one distribution of food aid he had received had helped, but he would apparently not be given any again – precisely because he was a wakil-e guzar:
We received aid once: a sack of flour, oil and lentils, from WFP. It was good because it was at a time when we really needed it and it lasted for at least a few days. But they didn’t put me on the list for future aid because I am a wakil-e guzar. I told them to take my name, because I’m not rich and I need the aid, but they said it was their rule that they couldn’t do this for me. – Businessman from Baghlan (household of ten)
In the rural areas, interviewees described a similar process, with lists of the village populations and vulnerable families drawn up by the village council and passed on to the NGO by the village council head. Several interviewees described how the staff of the NGO travelled to the area to survey the village:
We received the donation from an organisation that mainly works in the east of Afghanistan, I don’t remember the name, but they implement the WFP projects. They travel to different areas and villages to find needy people. When they came here, I told them that I needed help. They saw our house and gave us the card with which we could get the aid. – Teacher from Laghman(household of ten)
Although the selection process in the rural areas was sometimes described as more communal than in the urban areas, the criticism was similar. See for instance this former government employee from Paktika, who blamed those in charge for ensuring their own relatives benefited (even though he had also received aid twice):
The lists are drawn up by the local [village] council, in cooperation with the elders of each village, and handed over to the UN representative. Each village selects their families, depending on the number of people that live there. After they are selected, a card is made for them. Then, the organisation calls the people, in turns, to come to the district and receive the aid.
But the people who need it most haven’t been helped; in our area, we have ten families who are really starving [and who didn’t receive aid]. Aid is mostly given to the relatives of the Taleban and the local council and the village elders. They lie to the media and say: we helped the people who deserve it, but in reality it doesn’t reach them. People are living under the poverty line and are dying. We thank the countries of the world who are helping, but unfortunately the aid hasn’t reached the people who need it. – Former government employee from Paktika (extended family of fourteen)
Interviewees said they believed the amount of aid allocated per village or area was determined by population size, but the overall process was opaque to them and some of the interviewees alluded to controversies over possible manipulation, or bias.
Representatives of the institutions say: we take the list of your councils from the district and the province and divide the aid according to the population of the council. Based on that, the share of each council is determined, but I don’t know if this is exactly how it happens, or not. And sometimes there are controversies that this or that council was given a greater share. – Disabled shopkeeper from Daikundi (household of nine)
Others said they feared that the more remote areas were being overlooked, either due to discrimination or because it was simply a greater hassle to get there. A man from a remote village in Ghor’s Hazara-majority area, for instance, told us:
There have been other distributions in the district, but our village received help only once because it’s very far from the district centre. The aid is very good for the people, but the distribution is not fair. Employees of the NGOs do their own thing (khodsari mikonad) and don’t go to the remote areas. The local authorities are also not interested in a fair distribution and there’s no monitoring body. The NGOs always give good and excellent reports to their headquarters and donors, while the reality is different. If they had a monitoring section for the aid distribution process, I think the distribution would be more transparent. – Truck driver from Ghor (household of ten)
Several interviewees, like the truck driver from Ghor, said they believed that better monitoring mechanisms could make the distributions fairer and more transparent. We checked back with WFP to see what mechanisms were currently in place. They said that, in addition to the verification steps in the selection process described above, and the presence of monitors at distribution sites, there were several complaints mechanisms that allowed WFP to triangulate complaints about a particular targeting and selection exercise with the communities and cooperating partners. Families who feel unfairly excluded can, for instance, use community feedback mechanisms and the interagency AWAAZ call centre to complain.
However, not all people will know where to complain, not all complaints will be passed on, and in a programme this vast, with suspicions so widespread and access often precarious, it is unlikely that all complaints, or even most of them, can be followed up.
Community redistribution
In our interviews, we came across a specific practice of a community-level redistribution of aid. The interviewees who described the practice to us were all from remote Hazara-majority areas, but it is possible something similar may be happening in other tightly-knit communities as well.
Initially, the interviewees described the same beneficiary selection process as elsewhere.
It’s like this: representatives of the NGOs come and tell the chairman and members of the village council, “Based on the population and the list of your village council, we will give you so many aid distribution cards; you should introduce the most deserving people of your village.” Then the council gives them the ID card [details], according to the number of cards that were allocated. This is how the survey and identification of the poor is done. – Disabled shopkeeper from Daikundi
The difference however is that, in the end, everyone receives something, not just the people who were selected:
The village council had prepared the list of people who were in dire need of help. Whenever aid comes, the village council meets and divides the village residents into three parts: the poorest families who are put on every aid list; the families who are [also] deserving of help and; the families who are better off than the others. But in the end, they try to make it so that everyone receives some aid. Because everyone is poor, only the degree of poverty differs. – Former police guard from Daikundi (household of four)
The shopkeeper from Daikundi, who was quoted above, gave more details:
In our village council, we have a rule that if, for example, an NGO helps 30 people in the village, but we have 60 families, we will divide the aid for the 30 families among the 60. Whenever the aid is handed over and brought into the village, it is distributed among [all] the people of the village. Even though the NGO says that the card is the share of one family and nobody else has the right to that aid, the other residents don’t listen to them. Because the aid doesn’t reach everyone and there is always controversy over the distribution. – Disabled shopkeeper from Daikundi
Another interviewee from Daikundi told us that, although the redistribution was not fair to the poorest in the community, it was necessary to avoid tension and maintain village cohesion. This would, in turn, ensure that all villagers were able, and willing, to pay the new Taleban taxes, so that the village could avoid unwanted government attention and possible retribution.
After we receive the aid, regardless of how many poor people there are, it is equally distributed among all the families of the village. Of course, this is very cruel towards the poor, but they have no choice but to accept it. It was not like this before; it has only become like this in the last few months. Under the previous government, if someone was considered eligible and received aid, they wouldn’t have been willing to share it with anyone else. Now they have to, because if the aid is not divided, villagers may stop paying the government taxes and people are afraid of a quarrel with the government. So they have to come to terms among themselves. In my village, we have 30 families and whenever aid comes, everyone gets some of it, according to the general agreement. But it’s not a lot. I just got some flour. – School principal from Daikundi (household of five)
Such arrangements are most likely to take place, and be considered fair, within relatively homogenous or well-integrated communities that have a tradition of relative self-governance. There were allusions in other interviews to similar forms of community solidarity, but it was not clear whether this involved a similar systematic redistribution of aid.[11]
III. Taleban involvement and interference
In the period shortly after the Taleban takeover in Afghanistan, discussions within donor countries often revolved around the question of whether it was possible to deliver aid to Afghanistan without dealing with the Taleban and how to ensure that the movement would not benefit from or be able to redirect the assistance. In practice, humanitarian agencies and NGOs need to, at the very least, engage with local authorities to coordinate activities and/or negotiate access, while upholding the humanitarian principles (impartiality, neutrality, operational independence and eligibility of assistance based solely on need). This is often a difficult balancing act.
The Humanitarian Response Plan has as one of the caveats to ramping up aid delivery that partners, usually NGOs, need to “have access to the affected population without any interference by the authorities.” At the same time, it mentions several incidents, including interference in the beneficiary selection “most likely as a result of attempts of de facto authorities to direct humanitarian aid to areas they deem to be more critical.”
What interviewees described to us ranged from the, possibly unproblematic, involvement of local government employees in aid allocation processes, beneficiary selection and aid distribution, to attempts or instances of outright interference and misdirection, as well as situations where the lines seemed blurred.
In some cases, interviewees seemed to indicate that the government employees were part of the aid allocation or community-based targeting process, as for instance described by a former NGO worker from Zabul, who himself had opted out of receiving aid because he said others needed it more.
The government, together with the NGOs, made a selection committee. The committee has representatives from the Provincial Disaster Management Authority (ANDMA), the refugees’ department, different [technical] sectors, the provincial governor’s office and also from the community, such as the wakil-e guzar. – Former NGO staff from Zabul
A businessman from Baghlan told us:
Almost two months ago we received a sack of flour, oil and lentils from WFP. Their team came to the village and surveyed the needy and disabled; those who were vulnerable received coal, cash, and foodstuff. They coordinated with the department of rural development and the municipality, and were helped by the development councils. They took the list of the needy people from the department of rural development. – Businessman from Baghlan (household of ten)
A teacher from Laghman described a similar process:
Seven people select the beneficiaries in the different villages. One person is from the organisation that distributes the aid, one from the national security service, one from the department of rural development, one from the department of agriculture and irrigation, and a few others. Together they travel to different areas to find the needy people. When they came here, I told them I needed help. They saw our house and gave us a card with which we could get the aid.
The Taleban are checking the organisation’s distribution process to see if it’s done honestly and correctly. Out of the seven people who are selecting the beneficiaries, six of them are Taleban government employees and only one of them is a WFP [NGO] worker. – Teacher from Laghman (household of ten)
Although he did not object, in principle, to the involvement of local Taleban/government officials, he criticised the fact that, in his view, the members of the selection committee manipulated the lists to make sure their own constituents were prioritised:
In villages where the families or relatives of the Taleban live, they call them first and include them in the list. For instance, if there are five families, they’ll say we have 20 families here, so that the five families are included in the list with the help of the Taleban who are there as observers. Then they also include five to seven other families from the village, so they won’t be questioned by anyone. – Teacher from Laghman (household of ten)
A farmer from Paktia blamed both the Taleban and the village maliks (heads) for favouring their own people. He suggested that a larger, more varied selection committee might be able to keep its members honest.
The UN provides the aid with the help of the Taleban and the village malik. There’s a survey going on now; they’re distributing cards to people. The head of the village prepares the list and gives it to the aid organisation. Then, a representative of the organisation, with a Taleb, goes from house to house to select the needy people. But they mostly select the people who are introduced by the Taleban and the head of the village. The people who are affiliated to them receive the largest share, because when the aid comes, the Taleban distributes it to their men and to the families who have lost members in the war. Poor people wait in line all day and don’t get help. Instead, we see people and vehicles belonging to the Islamic Emirate come and receive aid.
In my opinion, to identify the needy people, specific teams should go with the help of the elders. For example, a representative of the aid organisation, a representative of the Taleban and a representative of the village should go from house to house, in the presence of the imam of the mosque to correctly identify the needy and write down their names. It’s not fair when the malik makes a list, but then the aid is given based on the order of the Taleban. –Farmer from Paktia (household of twelve)
Several interviewees mentioned that they believed the Taleban was redirecting aid to their own people, however without providing details. For instance:
The humanitarian aid of the international community has been given to people who consider religion, region, tribe and ethnicity when distributing the aid. And some of them have committed corruption. … For the Taleban, the people who cooperated with them in the past 20 years are the most important. So they distribute the aid to their relatives and the people they know. Whether someone is a khan (landowner) or a poor man isn’t important to them. So the aid hasn’t been given to the needy, particularly not to the displaced people who came from other provinces to Khost. – Journalist from Khost (household of sixteen)
A few interviewees, from the more remote areas, mentioned instances of direct interference by local Taleban officials, including demands for money or aid, and attempts to influence which villages would receive assistance from NGOs. For instance, two interviewees from Daikundi said:
Very little aid arrives in our village, which is at the farthest point of the district, about 90 km away from the district centre. The aid that was distributed was very valuable to the people, but unfortunately, there was a lot of abuse in our district by those who were locally responsible. The Taleban gathered money from the shuras [councils] where aid was distributed for the second and third time, and kept it for themselves. They also took a share from the total aid, which they openly sold in the market. Nobody can say anything against it.– Teacher from Daikundi (household of three)
Of course, distribution of aid is very good if it’s well-managed, but unfortunately, it isn’t. Local employees of the Islamic Emirate interfere in the work of the NGOs and actively collect money from the people for themselves. Local employees of the NGOs, who are often Wardaki and Jalalabadi Pashtuns, don’t go to the remote villages very much, unless villagers bribe the district government officials. Then the officials force them to go to the remote villages. The NGOs are aware of this, but they keep silent and the local staff don’t report it to the foreign officials.
Corruption in the distribution of aid has become widespread. There is no authority to control the situation and people can go nowhere to complain; no one dares to say this Taleban official demanded or took a bribe from me. It’s as if the local officials of the Islamic Emirate are trying to devour the money of the Hazara people. It has become normal for them to take money under all kinds of pretexts. – Former government employee from Daikundi (household of ten)
On the other hand, one of the interviewees who described corruption in the distribution process said that not much had changed compared to the previous regime; the only thing that was new were the actors:
Both the government and NGOs provide aid in my area. But people say that if the Taleban distribute the donations, they don’t give it to everyone who needs it. For example, when the district governor receives cash to distribute among the people, he gives the money to his favourite people – his friends and followers. He doesn’t give it to the people who were in the previous government or army. I heard that one month ago he distributed cash donations of 15,000 or 20,000 AFS (170-200 USD) among his own people.
In the past, we [also] didn’t receive any aid or donations. During the previous regime, the aid distribution was the same as it is now; nothing has changed. The previous government also distributed aid among their own relatives and friends, just like the Taleban is doing now. There is so much aid and most of it isn’t distributed correctly. When the Taleban can access it, they even sell aid items because they don’t need them. Both now and before, during the previous regime, when the aid falls into the hands of a specific group, they never distribute it honestly. But if the people who need the aid actually receive it, of course a huge change can take place in their lives. – Teacher from Nuristan (household of nine)[12]
A common refrain was the call for closer monitoring:
The international community should ensure that the donations are divided fairly, in a transparent way, in the presence of media representatives and civil society activists, so they can reach those in need. I think the international community should have full and direct control over the distribution of humanitarian aid to distribute it fairly to all provinces and not just to a particular class. – Journalist from Khost (household of sixteen)
IV. What the aid alleviates – and what it does not
It was clear from the interviews that the aid had alleviated real stress and suffering. For many, it had addressed the fear of or actual experience of hunger, at least for a short while, and several interviewees expressed gratitude and sense of relief.
I received aid four times, once every month. It was very helpful for me. I prayed a lot for those who gave me the aid. My husband is not here with us, and the aid enabled me to give some food to my children. – Homemaker from Jawzjan (five children, husband was unsuccessfully trying to enter Iran in search of work)
I think these donations are the best thing in the current situation when most families don’t have food to eat. May God bless those who help the people because they have saved many lives. – Shopkeeper from Kunduz city (household of six)
I think the aid reached the people well and on time. Many families that I know in our village would not have had any food at all, if the aid hadn’t arrived.– Former police guard from Daikundi (household of four)
Two to three months ago, the situation was much worse. Everyone had lost their optimism and hope for the future because no one was receiving a salary. Now that the salaries are paid, people’s situations are better. And the aid that was distributed in the last three months changed people and had a positive impact on their morale. I can’t imagine what people might have done if the salaries hadn’t been paid and the aid hadn’t been distributed. The situation was so bad and was getting worse every day. – Former government employee from Badakhshan (extended family of twelve)
But even interviewees who clearly wanted to say something positive, probably for fear of sounding ungrateful or in hopes it might prevent the aid from stopping, often still hinted at tensions and problems:
The distribution of aid was very useful and important for the people and it reached them in a very good and timely manner. Although there are reports that the distribution of aid had its problems, the spirit of the aid was very good. – Local doctor from Daikundi (extended household of twenty-one people)
I didn’t receive aid from NGOs or the government because the aid is for the poor and vulnerable. In my area, I know 18 families that received aid; some received cash, others received food. Three of them were really poor; the other 15 families were rich people, some of them even had several shops. I think the distribution process is transparent, to some extent. Although rich people are also getting assistance, [at least] the poor are not left out. – Factory owner from Kandahar (extended family of ten)
Most of all, many interviewees commented on how the aid, though briefly helpful, was only a fraction of what was really needed, since it could only help some, and only for a while.
If we are speaking about emergencies, then yes, the aid helps. But overall, I don’t think this assistance will change the lives of poor people. It can save them from hunger for a few days, but it won’t benefit them longer than that. – Landlord from Kabul city (household of seven)
The people in the villages of Afghanistan are all in need. We could survey the people with our eyes closed and add all of them to the list because they’re all poor. They have no money, no shops and no businesses. They’re just waiting for spring and summer, hoping someone will ask them to work. The aid isn’t enough, both what they give to each family and the number of families that are listed. In my area of 800 families, only 60 received aid, which means that 740 families remain. Out of these 800 families, maybe 40 of them are rich, the rest are all needy. – Businessman from Baghlan (household of ten)
Almost all people are poor here; if someone can pay for their winter food, he is the richest among us. If there was no aid, people could really die of hunger. So the aid helped everyone a lot. Some people had nothing to eat and now they at least have some food for one or two months. On the other hand, it’s not really enough. Families are big and there’s no income or work at this time of year. – Labourer from Ghor (household of eight)
Almost 95 per cent of people are poor in Afghanistan, so if the aid increased and each family received some, it would be so helpful. But it shouldn’t be corrupt, with one family receiving multiple times and another family not even once. I hope it’s done honestly, but I don’t think it’s transparent enough. And also, in general, it’s not enough: one bottle of oil and one sack of flour is not enough for a large family. – Teacher from Laghman (household of ten)
Finally, many of the interviewees hoped for the kind of aid that could create sustainable solutions, through jobs and livelihood opportunities, so they would no longer need to depend on donations.
I think the aid could be distributed in a better way. Now, the NGOs and international organisations buy the food from other countries for a high price and then distribute it here. They could create employment instead and provide salaries, or give people the aid in cash. Someone who is poor and needy will work for the money, but the way they’re doing it now the aid will be given to commanders and others. – Taleb from Logar (family of four)
I think the aid is not enough. And it’s not good that it makes people dependent. In the past 20 years, people received aid and they became used to it. Suddenly it stopped and now they’re in a bad condition. We shouldn’t wait for others to help us. If today they receive oil, wheat and flour, what will they do tomorrow, when it’s finished? We shouldn’t rely on short-term benefits. We should work on long-term solutions for our economic problems. – University professor from Herat (extended family of twenty)
If employment opportunities are provided, so people can earn money themselves, I think that’s better than this aid. Because the aid will make people into spongers, who will always have to wait for the help of others. – Psychosocial councillor from Sar-e Pul (family of seven)
Concluding remarks
This report, taking its cue from the people it interviewed, has explored the concerns that current processes may not ensure that food assistance is indeed reaching the people who need it most. At the same time, we don’t want to ignore the fact that over half of the interviewees had received aid – even in remote areas, and before the post-winter scale up – and that food aid is arriving in people’s homes in a significant way. This is a testament to the determination and hard work of countless NGO employees, community members, government civil servants and UN staff, often under extremely difficult circumstances.
The aid has clearly been important to the families and communities who received it. Many interviewees said they did not know how they would have managed without it. So it is concerning that the level of aid, in terms of quantity, duration and number of people reached, looks likely to be reduced as a result of funding shortfalls.
The findings of this report also point to problems, particularly with the beneficiary selection and, to a lesser extent, the aid allocation and the potential for capture, redirection and manipulation. It was striking how many interviewees talked about this without us asking. The aid distribution system is, in general, largely the same as it was before the Taleban takeover (even many of the actual individuals involved may still be the same, including some of the NGO staff, many of the local points of contact with the communities, and possibly even some of the local government officials, particularly the more junior and technical staff). What seems to have changed most of all is the size and scope of the operation and the fact that access has to be renegotiated and coordinated with the new authorities.
The implementation and monitoring of large-scale humanitarian aid in Afghanistan has always been difficult, even under the best of circumstances, but that does not mean that concerns can be ignored or set aside as minor issues of perception. Particularly, with a programme this size that had to be scaled up as fast as it was, it is likely that the monitoring and follow-up mechanisms have been unable to sufficiently keep up with the rollout.
The fact that the beneficiary selection leans heavily on local representatives – in particular the wakil-e guzars and village heads – seems to be both a strength and a potential vulnerability. While their close community relations provide local knowledge and a form of accountability, these ties can also leave them open to immense pressures and allegations of bias, favouritism and abuse.
It is, of course, not easy to determine from the interviewees to what extent the allegations are true. Distribution processes are often fraught and riddled with suspicion, especially when needs are so acute and widespread. Some of the complaints may be based on misunderstandings or generalised perceptions of unfairness and abuse, but in that case, it appears that greater transparency and clearer messaging, at both the local and central level – including on what people are supposed to receive, for how long and based on which criteria – could lessen the doubts and tensions.
It is also interesting to note how the reputation the Taleban may have had when they were still an insurgent movement, of being less corrupt than the then government, is now under pressure, as the movement seems to struggle – or is uninterested – to enforce discipline and accountability across its ranks.
At the national level, the Taleban government is seeking to formally increase its control over the aid delivery. In early May 2022, the Ministry of Economy announced the establishment of a committee to oversee the distribution of humanitarian aid, although it provided few details of what it would do. According to a prime-ministerial decree, dated 15 January 2022, provincial governors are now “barred from [allowing] aid distributions without coordination with the provincial ANDMA [Afghan National Disaster Management Agency].”[13] Although coordination with ANDMA and other technical departments is in itself not an unreasonable request, the decree may embolden provincial governors and local officials to try to redirect or strong-arm the aid to their liking. It will probably continue to be a struggle for NGOs on the ground to stop engagement with and involvement by local authorities from veering into outright interference.
Fortunately, the fears of widespread famine that were raised last year did not materialise, at least not yet (although there are pockets, for instance in Ghor). The humanitarian food assistance definitely helped, as did the fact that the payment of government salaries restarted again, but it will in itself not be enough. Most of the people who received food aid continue to struggle to feed their families and meet their basic needs (see, in particular, this AAN report from March, where we discuss in greater detail how all the interviewees were doing economically when we spoke to them).
Afghans are resilient, determined and inventive, and they work hard to help themselves, and each other, but most communities are currently stretched far beyond their usual coping mechanisms and many people have depleted what reserves or options to borrow or sell they may have had. The current food aid allows them to feed their families, something at least, even if only for a short time, but Afghans desperately need their economy to restart, the government and its salaries to become dependable, and conditions for small businesses to improve.[14]
References
References
↑1
The UN’s Humanitarian Response Plan (HRP) uses a population estimate for Afghanistan of 41.7 million. This differs significantly from the figure of 33.5 million used by the National Statistics and Information Agency of Afghanistan (NSIA); see explanatory note in this IPC report.
↑2
According to UNOCHA’s latest HPR overview, aid delivery in early 2022 was enabled by USD 542 million carried over from the previous year and 600 million in new funding. By 20 May 2022, the UN HRP had received USD 1.34 billion in new funding, of which WFP had received USD 573 million, or 42 per cent.
↑3
Since IPC uses a total population figure of 41.7 million, the worst-case reduction in assistance would be from the current reach of 15.8 million people in April to less than 3.5 million people in summer, if the current funding shortfall continues.
↑4
For an example of a previously wealthy interviewee who had no information about aid, see for instance this factory owner from Kabul city, who told us:
We didn’t receive any aid and I don’t know if aid that was distributed in my area, but in the past and during COVID, the government distributed aid through the wakil-e guzar. I think there’s a real need for it now. I see long queues in front of the bakeries in my area [waiting to be given some without paying]; many people can’t even afford to buy bread.
About his own situation and that of other people, he said: “I think I’m still in a better situation than many other people, even though some [other] people still have a good income; they either receive cash from abroad or have well running businesses. But to be honest, I don’t really know. In the past, I knew about my relatives and friends’ income, but now people don’t talk about it. Actually, everyone complains.”
↑5
Other sources of aid that interviewees mentioned included an “Iranian organisation” (most probably the Imam Khomeini Relief Foundation) that had provided support to victims of the mosque blast in Kunduz; the office of the representative of Grand Ayatollah Fayyaz (also spelled al-Fayadh) that provided support to widows with children, for instance in Daikundi and Ghor; the ulema council (in Baghlan, with no further details given), the Afghan Red Crescent and a few smaller international NGOs or local Afghan charities, for instance in Paktika and Paktia.
↑6
After a series of questions exploring the economic situation of the household – focusing on recent changes, sources of income, large expenses and loans – we asked:
Has anyone in your family received any aid or donations? What did they receive?
Who gave the aid or donation? How did they know about your situation? (Note: Get many details about the system of selection and distribution)
Have you received aid or a donation in the past, or was this the first time? (Note: If they received aid before: When? How often? What did you receive?)
Has any other aid been distributed in your street/village/area/district that you know about? Do you know how many people received aid? Do you know what they received and how they were selected?
What do you think about the aid that is being given?
↑7
One interviewee in Khost described a more substantial package: 50 kg flour, 24 kg rice, 10 litres cooking oil, 7 kg pulses, 2 kg salt and 1 kg green tea. However, he had not received the aid himself (his family was relatively well off), so he may well have been describing a planned, announced or rumoured package, possibly in different tranches, rather than one that had actually been handed out in a single go.
↑8
Several other interviewees also indicated that they believed people were given turns to receive food aid, for instance a former gardener and taxi driver from Kabul (quoted more extensively later on in the report), who said that “Out of 50 families, five were selected by the wakil-e guzar to receive aid. Then, in turn, another five families were selected.” According to WFP, however, their beneficiary selection is not about ‘turns’, but about who is the most in need of food assistance.
↑9
In December, the interviewee told us he had not accepted the aid that was meant for the victims of the Kunduz mosque bombing because he had been only lightly wounded. Then in February 2022, he told us:
We received aid from an Iranian organisation. They were distributing aid to families of those who were killed and injured in the bomb explosion in the mosque in Kunduz. I had a small injury; that’s why they listed my name too. Almost 80 per cent of the people in our area received this aid. We received one sack of flour, one 5-litre bottle of oil and 10 kg of rice. We also received aid on behalf of the family of my uncle, who was killed in the explosion. We sold the food and sent the money to his wife and daughter in Iran.
He had not received any WFP-administered aid at the time of the interview, but his household had recently been surveyed.
↑10
The vulnerability criteria have, according to WPF, been quantitatively validated against years of large scale joint national food security assessments in Afghanistan, endorsed and used by the Food Security and Agriculture Cluster and other food security actors in the country, confirmed to correlate to the likelihood of severe food insecurity and are generally observable.
↑11
For instance, a teacher from Nuristan told us: “We received aid twice, a sack of flour and a bottle of oil. All the people [in the village] received it.”
The labourer from Ghor told us: “We went and brought the aid to our village and distributed it among the people. We paid the rent of the vehicle that carried it here. Then the village leaders distributed the aid to us. … All the people in my area have received aid.”
Not quite the same, but possibly similar, an interviewee from Panjshir said that the families in her village received aid in turn, like in other areas, but also that all families had been included in the list, since “everyone needs help nowadays.” She additionally described a system whereby relatives who lived abroad sent money to the bank accounts of the village councils for redistribution within the village.
Another interviewee from Kabul (who had not received any aid yet) told us that the families in his area who had received aid, and who were not related to the wakil-e guzar, had been told by the wakil to share their food items with five other families.
↑12
This was not the only mention of cash being distributed by, or through, Taleban authorities. Another teacher, from Panjshir, told us: “We didn’t receive any aid or donations, although aid was distributed in our area: flour, oil and rice. There was also aid given by the Taleban for IDPs. The Taleban paid them 250 [US] dollars, two months ago.”
A psychosocial councillor from Sar-e Pul told us: “When I was in Mazar, some of my friends who are teachers said they’d received winter aid from the Islamic Emirate – oil and flour, for six months – instead of the money they would normally get for doing extra tasks. They weren’t paid for this work under the previous government either, but [now] the Emirate is giving them aid instead of money.”
↑13
AAN has seen a copy of the decree, which was sent to provincial governors and relevant provincial departments. The underlying decree consists of a pishnehad (proposal) and a hokm (decision). The proposal, signed by Al-Haj Mulla Muhammad Abbas Akhund, Acting Head of ANDMA, states that: Aid is being distributed to individuals without considering standards, which is contrary to accountability and transparency norms. It is therefore proposed that aid distributions should be carried out by the provincial governors’ office to stop arbitrary distributions and ensure that those in need receive aid in line with a proper work plan.
The decision, dated 15 January 2022 and signed by Prime Minister Mullah Hassan Akhund, states that: Provincial governors are barred from [allowing] aid distributions without coordination with provincial ANDMA as per written text. In a subsequent letter from the local authorities in Bamyan province, dated 27 March 2022, which AAN has seen, all foreign and domestic NGOs in the province were informed that they should “seriously consider the guidance of the provincial governor and coordinate all projects with the provincial ANDMA.”
The worst-case scenario for Afghan women is playing out before our eyes. The international community cannot sit by idly.
The Taliban continued this week to roll back Afghan women’s rights by decreeing women must be fully covered from head to toe — including their faces — to appear in public. This follows decrees limiting women’s ability to work, women’s and girls’ access to education and even limiting their freedom of movement. Afghan women are rapidly facing the worst-case scenario many feared when the Taliban took over last summer. While the Taliban justify these moves as in accordance with Islam, they are, in fact, contradicting Islamic tradition and Afghan culture as the group looks to resurrect the full control they had over women and girls when they ruled in the 1990s.The two-page order says that because “99 percent of Afghan women are already observing Islamic hijab there is no reason for the remaining one percent not to follow the Shariah-prescribed hijab.” The order further states that black clothes and scarves that are not tight-fitting are an acceptable type of hijab along with the preferred burqa. But the first and best form of “obeying hijab” for women — meaning covering their faces — is to “not leave home without necessity.”Domestic violence in Afghanistan is already high: A 2021 poll of over 200 women’s rights experts ranked Afghanistan as the worst place in the world to be a woman. Before the Taliban’s takeover, there were laws and policies, and governmental and non-governmental institutions mandated to protect women’s rights. Since their takeover in August, the Taliban have suspended Afghanistan’s constitution and other laws protecting women’s rights. Additionally, the Ministry of Women’s Affairs, independent commissions such as the Afghan Independent Human Rights Commission and the Commission to Eliminate Violence Against Women, and women’s rights organizations have all been suspended.In the absence of protection mechanisms for women, violence against women at home and other forms of abuse perpetrated against Afghan women and girls are on the rise and can be expected to increase more due to this decree.
The Taliban Prove They Haven’t Changed
Rather than changing their reviled policies from the 1990s, the Taliban are reverting to form as they seek to demonstrate their hardline credentials over groups like Islamic State-Khorasan Province and Hizb-ut-Tahrir. The Taliban have even called on Afghan media to explain the importance of the hijab for women.
The second part of the Taliban’s order lists punishments for violators: First a warning to the (male) head of the household, then a summons to a government office, followed by three days in jail for the male guardian and ultimately a court case with even harsher punishments to follow. The order is silent on whether women who do not cover properly will be beaten as they were in the 1990s, but it does specify that “women who conduct activities within organs related to the Emirate and do not observe hijab are to be dismissed from their positions.”
The Taliban say the decrees is based on Islam although the vast majority of Muslims — outside Iran and Saudi Arabia — do not follow the type of dress code the Taliban are prescribing for Afghan women. Given that Afghanistan is an overwhelmingly Muslim, traditional and patriarchal society, a significant number of conservative Afghan men will not object to the Taliban’s decision.
The Taliban are reinforcing Afghanistan’s patriarchal system, where men decide for and on behalf of women. The order legitimizes men’s control over women and the humiliation of women in public, paving the way for increased domestic violence, harassment and oppression of Afghan women and girls. Further, the decree gives ammunition to conservative Afghan men who aim to prevent women from exercising their right to participate in public life. It essentially encourages harassment and oppression of women and girls. Fundamentally, it shows that the Taliban’s policies concerning women have not changed.
The Taliban’s hijab decree not only runs counter to Afghanistan’s history and culture, but it also demonstrates their narrow understanding of Islam.
An Affront to Afghan history
While the exact time when the burqa was introduced as a cover for women in Afghanistan is unknown, Afghans believe that the burqa — or chadari as Afghans refer to it — was imported from Persia and later in the 20th century from India. It is therefore a relatively modern and foreign phenomenon. Over the past several decades Afghan women have categorically rejected the narrative that the burqa is a part of an Afghan traditional dress code for women.
Afghanistan is an agriculture-centered country, where women have been active in farming. Loose clothing and head scarves have been and continue to be worn by women throughout the country to allow them to work on farms, forests and livestock.
The Taliban are undermining Afghan culture and imposing a type of hijab that was foreign to a majority of Afghan women before the 1990s. Some Afghan women have made the personal choice to wear a burqa in a public setting. But it wasn’t until fundamentalist mujahedeen groups took control of the country in 1992 that many women were forced to wear a burqa to disguise their identity and avoid being harassed by mujahedeen fighters and criminals. Despite the mujahedeen’s decision that women must be fully covered while in public, the vast majority did not submit to this requirement.
In 1996, when the Taliban took control of the country they enforced the state-imposed burqa on women. It wasn’t only the type of cover they imposed on women, but the color of the burqa itself and the clothing underneath was also prescribed. Women found to wear stylish and bright color clothes under the burqa were publicly beaten, whipped and humiliated. There was no way around it.
A Narrow Understanding of Islam
The Taliban’s justification for imposing the hijab in the name of Islam and Shariah is contradictory to the spirit of Islam. The Taliban use “hijab” as a synonym for women’s clothing and cover. However, Quranic references to the hijab are not necessarily about women’s clothes. Islam ordained a perdah, or “curtain,” for the wives of the Prophet, not for all Muslim women. A majority of Islamic scholars agree that hijab refers to the curtain in the front a door of a home that women in the Prophet Muhammad’s household were obliged to use. According to the Quran and other important Islamic texts and traditions, the face, hands and the feet are not included as part of required forms of Islamic dress.
The Taliban’s proposed penalties for violating their dress code are another point of dubious Islamic legality, stating that the male guardian of any woman who does not follow the obligations in this order will be punished. Yet according to basic legal principles and Shariah norms one cannot be arrested or punished for the action of others — not to mention the implication that women are under the control of the men who would be punished for their alleged transgressions.
Perhaps the most troubling point about the Taliban’s order, however, is that essentially calls on woman to avoid public life: “The best way to obey the hijab for women is to not go out of the home.” Again, to stay at home was an option for women in the Prophet’s household not for all Muslim women, as the Quran clearly states in Chapter 33:33.
By ordering women to stay at home, the Taliban are throwing more obstacles in front of women to prevent them from taking part in public life. This seemingly ignores the vital role Muslim women have played in social, political, economic and cultural life throughout the history of Islam. For example, one of the Prophet’s wives, Khadija, was a successful businesswoman who managed and employed men as her subordinates and partners, including the Prophet. Women have held positions as mayors, judges, military commanders, teachers, architects and so on throughout the Muslim world. Justifying restrictions on women’s mobility and access to rights has nothing to do with Islam. If anything, it proves the Taliban’s ignorance of Islam — and the ignorance of others who have employed Islam to suppress women.
Now What?
In response to the hijab decree, U.S. State Department Spokesperson Ned Price said Monday, “We’ve addressed it directly with the Taliban … There are steps that we will continue to take to increase pressure on the Taliban to reverse some of these decisions, to make good on the promises that they have made.”
Since taking power, the Taliban have shown that they are largely immune to pressure. Despite harsh sanctions and the withholding of diplomatic recognition, they have remained unbowed and unwilling to concede. While the international community has predicated diplomatic recognition on maintaining Afghan girls’ access to education, the Taliban have made moves to limit such access. After 20 years of hard-won gains, Afghan women and girls are watching their rights evaporate before their eyes.
“What is happening right now in Afghanistan is the most serious women’s rights crisis in the world today,” Heather Barr, the associate women’s rights director at Human Rights Watch, recently wrote. The international community cannot sit by idly. The U.N. Security Council is meeting today to discuss the Taliban’s decree. Closed door conversations and statements of condemnation are not enough — urgent action is needed now.
Afghanistan is also in the midst of a massive humanitarian and hunger crisis. The Taliban need financial assistance and sanctions relief to address these humanitarian challenges. They also want formal diplomatic recognition. The United States and concerned partners should leverage financial assistance and sanctions relief to incentivize the Taliban to respect women’s rights. It is the least that can be done for the brave Afghan women who have and continue to stand up against the Taliban and their repression.
Mohammad Osman Tariq is a senior advisor for the Religion and Inclusive Societies program at USIP.
Afghanistan may have fallen out of international headlines, but violent trends are once again on the rise. Our team at Afghan Peace Watch (APW), alongside colleagues at the Armed Conflict Location & Event Data Project (ACLED), have been tracking violent trends based on hundreds of incident reports recorded between September 2021 and March 2022. The report, Tracking Disorder During Taliban Rule in Afghanistan, provides one of the only comprehensive data-backed glimpses into the changing threat environment, based on 238 sources in all 34 provinces of Afghanistan.
The data is clear: While violence overall has decreased from the height of armed clashes between former Afghan government forces and the Taliban between May and August 2021, there has been a marked shift in violence against women, journalists, and educators that was simply not there under the previous government’s rule. Women have been forced to cover their faces and all but forbidden from public space. The Islamic State affiliate in Afghanistan (ISKP) has launched several high-profile terrorist attacks, fueling ethnic and religious tensions. Other trends in the data reveal a worrying rise in violence against former Afghan government forces, recently confirmed by the New York Times, and intense infighting between various Taliban factions and interests.
These factors present significant risks for renewed conflict in Afghanistan and the region, and underscore two important points. First, it is critical to continue data collection efforts despite the risks in order to accurately and independently assess violent trends under Taliban rule. Second, tracking trends on terrorist threats in Afghanistan may provide one of the only sources of credible information on resurgent terrorist activity, particularly transnational terrorist groups that already have an established foothold in the region, such as al-Qaida, the Pakistani Taliban (TTP), and Central Asian terrorist groups.
During the reporting period, APW recorded hundreds of incidents related to bombings, assassinations, abductions, and other forms of violence perpetrated by the Taliban and other terrorist groups. Using its exhaustive local networks and social media monitoring, APW is also working to map the leadership and interlinkages between these terrorist groups as they swap loyalties and engage in intense infighting, leading to new terrorist agendas and greater risks for the entire region.
Between August 2021 and March 2022, APW and ACLED recorded 33 incidents of Taliban infighting. Highly successful efforts made by the Taliban during their campaign last year to co-opt key actors in the north and other non-traditional Taliban strongholds seem particularly tenuous now, as there are inadequate spoils of war to placate these actors and their patronage networks. The Taliban government has coalesced around its real centers of gravity — the southern Kandahari leadership, the notorious eastern Haqqani network, and the emerging Ghazni-led intelligence apparatus — leaving little space for other ethnic and minority groups.
In the last few months alone, at least six new armed opposition groups have been announced opposing Taliban rule, many made up of former Afghan security forces (ANDSF) left behind and continually targeted for retribution by the Taliban, despite the general amnesty announced last year.
While the National Resistance Front (NRF) was the first group to engage in armed resistance against the Taliban under the leadership of the son of Ahmad Shah Massoud in Panjshir, several former ANDSF groups have also been more recently announced, including the Afghanistan Freedom Front (AFF) and the Pashtun-led Afghanistan Liberation Movement (ALM), demonstrating wide ranging and multiethnic opposition to the Taliban, including from within the Pashtun majority.
Between Taliban infighting, the plethora of emerging armed opposition groups, and the ever-changing terrorist landscape, violence in Afghanistan is set to rise with the fast-approaching summer fighting season. As the Taliban fail to placate their rank and file, or deliver on basic governance, the façade of a strong and united Taliban that governed effectively from the shadows is likely to dissipate. The reduction in violence visible in the data between September and December last year, interpreted by some as implicit evidence of local support for the Taliban, may be short lived.
Afghanistan fatigue remains high among international donors as fraught evacuation efforts and an impasse over girls’ access to education continue to dominate diplomatic overtures to the Taliban. The horrific events unfolding in Ukraine, which pose a direct and immediate threat to NATO, have also, understandably, diverted attention away from Afghanistan.
But just like the U.S. invasion of Iraq, and the collapse of the Soviet Union before that, history suggests that when the international community abandons Afghanistan, violence and extremism tend to simmer before they explode onto the international stage. The question now is has the international community learned its lesson or are we doomed to repeat the same mistake in Afghanistan again?
As the World Looks Away, Violence Is on the Rise Again in Afghanistan
Kabul, Afghanistan, May 12, 2022 — A new IRC report confirms that the economic crisis that has engulfed Afghanistan since August 2021 is now the primary driver of persistent food insecurity threatening the survival of nearly 20 million Afghans, who are experiencing extreme hunger in the face of continuing political uncertainty and economic calamity.
Unemployment and poverty are now the greatest drivers of internal displacement. The International Rescue Committee (IRC) sees firsthand that humanitarian aid cannot replace a functioning economy and state. In Afghanistan, the collapse of both is driving 97 per cent of the population into poverty. The current humanitarian crisis could kill far more Afghans than the past 20 years of war.
For the first time in almost a decade, some Afghans are experiencing famine. New analysis from the Integrated Phase Classification (IPC) shows that 20,000 people are experiencing IPC 5 – the most extreme level of food insecurity. New assessment findings show that economic shocks, not conflict, COVID or drought, are the most common challenge facing households and the most common driver of needs.
In response to these trends Afghans are forced to turn to increasingly desperate coping mechanisms. 43% of Afghanistan’s population is living on less than one meal a day, levels of household debt are rising driven by the need to buy food, and reports of child marriage and labour as well as organ sales are rising.
Meanwhile, the escalating conflict in Ukraine is having a devastating impact on global food supplies. As the price of grain increases and seed oil imports are jeopardised, countries like Afghanistan are being pushed further towards famine.
Vicki Aken, IRC Afghanistan Director, said, “The fact that Afghanistan is facing record high figures of food insecurity is an indictment of the policies adopted by the international community towards Afghanistan. Although we are nearing the end of the lean season, the country is still in the grips of one the worst droughts in decades, which has severely hampered food production and left millions without a source of income. But it is the economic crisis that has pushed Afghans to the brink.
“The crisis in Afghanistan is evolving into a catastrophe of choice as the policies of international donors designed to economically isolate the Taliban are simultaneously collapsing the Afghan economy and pushing nearly 20 million Afghans into a state of acute food insecurity. The freezing of Afghanistan’s foreign reserves, the grounding of the banking system, and halting of development assistance, which financed most government services, have had swift and catastrophic impacts for ordinary Afghans. Today 90% of Afghans surveyed report food as their primary need. Between 2021 and 2022 the number of households reporting debt has risen from 78 to 82. The cause of rising family debt is easy to identify – the need to buy food.
“At the same time, the role of women in society is continually called into question and it is becoming more difficult for them to access work. With over thirty years of experience in delivering humanitarian assistance in Afghanistan, the IRC knows that women play a vital role in accessing the communities who need it most as they are the only people who can reach the most vulnerable, particularly women and children. Recent decrees on girls’ education and other restrictions are making it increasingly difficult for them to do so, and we are profoundly fearful that the situation could continue to deteriorate.
“This is a pivotal moment for Afghanistan; the world cannot afford to look away as its economy teeters on the brink of collapse and the progress of the last twenty years is lost. The international community can and should do much more to safeguard the lives and livelihoods of innocent Afghans, with action to avert Afghanistan’s slide into total economic collapse urgently needed.”
To date, the US and other Western governments have focused on providing humanitarian funding based on a famine prevention strategy, putting in place important humanitarian exemptions and offering much-needed clarity on sanctions regimes at the bilateral and multilateral levels. However, the severity of the situation facing ordinary Afghans requires more than humanitarian solutions.
The report outlines key recommendations for immediate actions to support public service delivery and the humanitarian response, such as:
Fully fund the humanitarian appeal and quickly translate humanitarian donor pledges into funding for frontline responders and support their ability to operate.
Launch the UN’s Humanitarian Exchange Facility (HEF) as a temporary mechanism to provide liquidity.
Disperse the Afghanistan Reconstruction Trust Fund (ARTF) immediately to support critical service delivery, including health, livelihoods, agriculture and education services which remain available; commit to replenish the ARTF.
Steps needed towards international engagement in support of the Afghan economy include:
Urgently convene key stakeholders including IFIs, UN and key donors on the Afghan economy.
Deploy technical assistance to Da Afghanistan Bank (DAB).
Provide guidance and reassurance to the private and banking sector.
To read more detailed recommendations, view the report here.
The IRC began work in Afghanistan in 1988, and now works with thousands of villages across ten provinces, with Afghans making up more than 99% of IRC staff in the country. As Afghanistan struggles to recover from ongoing conflict and natural disasters, the IRC: works with local communities to identify, plan and manage their own development projects, provides safe learning spaces in rural areas, community-based education, cash distribution provides uprooted families with tents, clean water, sanitation and other basic necessities, and helps people find livelihood opportunities as well as extensive resilience programming.
New IRC report calls for specific actions to avert growing needs in Afghanistan, as almost half the population lives on less than one meal a day
Panicked Afghans by the thousands tried to escape their country as the United States evacuated last year. They feared that a victorious Taliban would offer no more respect for basic rights, especially those of women, than the movement did when it ruled Afghanistan between 1996 and 2001. For its part, the Taliban issued soothing promises of an “inclusive” government that would eschew the executions, persecution and forced veiling of women that marked its first reign.
Those who fled distrusted the Taliban, and evidence is mounting that they were right. Having announced in March that it would break a promise to reopen secondary schools to girls, the Taliban on May 7 ordered almost all Afghan women to wear clothing that covers them from head to toe, preferably the shapeless garment known as a burqa. The decree further urged women to stay home except when necessary, and made their male relatives — “guardians” — legally responsible for violations of the dress code. It amounts to quasi-house arrest for half the country’s people.
Small but courageous groups of women staged protest marches in Kabul on Tuesday. In at least one instance, they were met by Taliban operatives, who threatened to shoot them, according to Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty — though there were apparently no casualties or reported arrests. Other women in Kabul appear to be resisting the new edict passively, refusing to don a burqa and continuing to travel through the city unaccompanied, according to a May 8 Associated Press report. The Taliban has not yet enforced the rule strictly, though whether because of some unofficial grace period or because of policy disagreements within the ruling group is impossible to say.
What is clear is that women must fear enforcement, because hard-line opposition to their freedom is now the Taliban’s official declared position. “Islamic principles and Islamic ideology are more important to us than anything else,” said Shir Mohammad, a spokesman for the Taliban Ministry for the Suppression of Vice and Promotion of Virtue. Theocracy of this stripe is wrong in principle. In this case, moreover, the Taliban appears to be articulating its own extreme traditions rather than any religious consensus. Of course, there is no opportunity for democratic discussion on such matters in Afghanistan, since the ultimate decision-maker is the Taliban’s leader, Haibatullah Akhundzada, who is not only unelected but also — almost literally — invisible. He has appeared in public only twice since 2016; subordinates issued the new decree in his name.
The Taliban’s reversion to repressive type presents a challenge for the United States and other democratic countries, which — laudably — decried this latest broken promise. The U.N. Security Council took up the matter Thursday at the request of Norway, but at a closed session. The Biden administration has conditioned diplomatic recognition and economic aid on Taliban respect for human rights. Though a difficult line to draw, given the Afghan people’s desperate humanitarian needs, the United States has been right to draw it; this country and its allies cannot bankroll a regime that so blatantly subjugates women. We, too, have basic principles to uphold.
Afghanistan Peace Campaign
