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The Lessons the Taliban Have Learned

Afghanistan’s leaders haven’t changed ideologically. But five years after returning to power, they have learnt from where the “first emirate” went wrong.

A Taliban checkpoint in Balkh province, Afghanistan.

In the female section of an upscale restaurant in Kabul’s Shar-e Naw, a waiter brings me a menu and a form. Only two lines are filled in: one bears an Italian name, the other a local one. The waiter explains that guests are required to fill it in at the request of the Ministry of Interior. It is for the guests’ own safety, he emphasizes, slightly uneasy. It is hard to tell if he believes it.

I look at the form. It asks for the guest’s name, date of birth, passport number, address in Kabul, as well as when they visited the restaurant. 

“It is for your security,” the waiter repeats. I give him the blank form back. “I feel secure without it,” I say. He doesn’t insist. He takes my order and disappears.

Five years after the withdrawal of NATO troops from Afghanistan, and into the rule of the Taliban, the group’s control over the country is stable. While the Taliban might not have access to the newest surveillance technologies, their infiltration of local communities is high. They had learned their lesson from their first period of rule, the emirate that ended in 2001 with the U.S. invasion, a United Nations official tells me.

“You can say that fundamentally, ideologically, they haven’t really changed. But in terms of control, consolidation, management, messaging, they are far more sophisticated now,” he says. “The first emirate was a brand new experiment. The second emirate is still an experiment, but they have learned a lot of lessons. They are smart.”

Kabul still reminds me of its former self, as if time had stopped. The streets are bustling with life; street vendors cover the pavements, selling products ranging from food and cigarettes to clothes and electronics. The new regime is seen in the details: fewer women walk the streets, less rubbish lies scattered across the city center – a lasting feature of the corrupt rule back in the Republic days – and the streets seem less chaotic. But at first glance, the changes are small, sometimes imperceptible.

A Taliban checkpoint in Balkh province, Afghanistan. Photo by Agnieszka Pikulicka.

Everyone I speak with says that the country has become safer. Twenty years of war and decades of fighting have taken their toll on people. The Taliban, while brutal and devoted to      anti-modern ideas, has nevertheless brought peace. The paradox is that the Taliban were the main perpetrators of violence during the Republic days. It was due to their attacks on cars that traveling between provinces used to be dangerous and caution was advised. Since they took power, traveling between different regions of Afghanistan has suddenly become possible.

Now, Taliban checkpoints cover the whole country. Some of them are stricter, with soldiers standing under the white flag bearing the Shahada, the Islamic declaration of faith, and the Taliban symbol, checking travel permits meticulously. Other checkpoints are more relaxed, and it is enough to slow down and let the Taliban gaze into the car.

There are few roads that the group does not control. To leave their place of residence, drivers need special permits, and so do tourists. A letter from “Afghan Tour,” a unit responsible for travelers, is required to travel and stay in another province. It is unclear what its purpose is, other than surveillance.

In Kabul, the “Afghan Tour” official says that getting a travel letter requires paying for an expensive tour. But it is possible to get it in Bamyan, another province, for a small fee. Most other regions also issue such letters in exchange for booking an inexpensive “tour” with an official guide. It is unclear if its price is official or simply a bribe paid for obtaining the letter. It is also hard to call it a tour.

As part of the “tour” I book to stay in Mazar-i-Sharif, the local guide shows me into the Blue Mosque, the shrine of Imam Ali, first built in the 12th century before Genghis Khan leveled the original building to the ground. But the tour included little in terms of a history lesson. The guide complained about his low earnings, suggesting I pay extra for his time. Then he demanded that I share my local contacts with him. For my own safety, of course.

Today the new Taliban administration is stable. Ministries work, and courts solve disputes without the need to pay bribes, I am told. 96 percent of the poppy fields have been eradicated and hundreds of addicts who formerly squatted on Kabul’s streets and under bridges have been forced into rehabs. This is the kind of “stability” I know all too well from Central Asia’s autocracies, Afghanistan’s neighbors: they are brutal and relentless, but the pavements are clean.

According to a recent report from Human Rights Watch, censorship of local media outlets and restrictions on freedom of expression have intensified, while journalists, activists, academics and other regime critics have faced repression, torture, and arbitrary arrests. 

“The Taliban always accuse us of being spies, it’s hard to work these days,” one local photojournalist told me.

The Blue Mosque, the shrine of Imam Ali, in Mazar-i-Sharif. Photo by Agnieszka Pikulicka.

Women have been denied basic rights, such as the right to education beyond sixth grade. A woman visiting her parental home who does not return to her husband can be deemed a criminal. That includes survivors of domestic violence. A woman accused of touching, shaking hands with, or hugging a man who is not her mahram, a close male relative with whom marriage is prohibited, can spend a year in prison. Two months if a girl or a boy is seen dancing.

A new “Preachers’ law” defines Muslims as followers of the Hanafi school of Islam. Local Hazaras, or Ismaili minority groups, are now officially deemed heretics. 

“Many Ismailis now hide their faith,” one man from the community tells me. He lost his job in a school in Badakhshan due to his faith.

All that in the name of the “peaceful and clear sky above us,” as Uzbekistan’s late President Islam Karimov used to say in........

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