By: Sayed Mohammad Zia Musavi
Five years have passed since the day the Taliban entered the Afghan capital without firing a single shot, bringing down the republican system after two decades. For many Afghans, August 15 this year is not a reminder of a victory, but of the beginning of a period in which the initial promises have gradually faded before their eyes.
Before returning to power, the Taliban had stated in one of its statements that the group was “not seeking a monopoly on power” and that “all ethnic groups and segments of society, as brothers, would have a share in the future system.” Now, five years after their return to power, that promise remains little more than a slogan, while the cabinet governing in Kabul presents a limited and closed picture of Afghanistan’s ethnic and political diversity.
The Taliban’s return was initially accompanied by a degree of cautious optimism. People who had endured four decades of war had placed their hopes in security and an end to violence. But that optimism did not last long. Afghanistan’s political isolation on the international stage deepened, foreign aid—which had formed the backbone of the country’s economy—declined sharply, and a new wave of Afghan migration, this time toward neighboring countries and beyond, began once again.
Inside the country, the picture is clearer. Afghan girls have been barred from attending school beyond the sixth grade for the fifth consecutive year, a restriction that has made Afghanistan the only country in the world with such a ban. The participation of non-Pashtun ethnic groups in the power structure has been reduced to a minimum, while poverty and unemployment rates, according to international organizations, remain among the highest in the region. These figures not only fail to indicate an improvement in people’s livelihoods but also point to a deepening crisis under a government that accepts the least amount of accountability to its citizens.
The stark contradiction between the slogan of “stability and security” and the reality of everyday life for the Afghan people may be the most prominent feature of these five years. Military security, in the sense of reduced fighting on the ground, has undoubtedly been established in many areas. Yet this form of security remains fundamentally different from lasting social and political stability, whose prerequisites are public acceptance and participation.
If we look at Afghanistan’s political history over the past half-century, a familiar pattern emerges. The People’s Democratic Party of Afghanistan, despite the unconditional support of the Soviet Union, was unable to maintain its exclusive rule in the face of resistance from a diverse society. The Taliban’s first government in the 1990s also failed to endure without an inclusive structure that enjoyed broad public acceptance. The experience of the past five years shows that the Taliban’s current leadership, despite having access to the historical experience of the previous two governments, has followed the same path of monopolizing power—as though no lessons had been learned from the past.
Afghanistan, in more realistic terms, is a country that no single group or political party has ever been able to govern on its own. It is a shared home for ethnic groups and segments of society, each of which, at different points in history, has paid a price for its survival.
Therefore, the broader and more participatory the foundation of a government is, the greater the hope for its durability and stability. Conversely, the narrower and more exclusive that foundation becomes, the more Afghanistan’s historical experience suggests that collapse will eventually become inevitable.
Now that five years have passed since the beginning of this period, the main question is not how long the Taliban will remain in power, but whether this government has the will and capacity to reconsider its policies. Until the answer to that question becomes clear, Afghanistan will remain trapped in the same deadlock in which it found itself five years ago.
