Five years of personal experience since the fall of the Republic, and repeated conversations with European policymakers, have led me to the conclusion that the future of Afghanistan cannot be left waiting for others to decide. Afghanistan is not a priority of European policy today. It sits on the margins of Europe’s interests and is mostly regarded as a crisis to be contained. The absence of a clear, shared policy, limited capacity and tools for action, chronic fatigue with the Afghanistan issue, and Europe’s own domestic and security challenges have deepened this marginalization. Even if these challenges were resolved tomorrow, returning Afghanistan to the agenda, forming political will and allocating the necessary resources would take a long time, with no guarantee of reaching a solution, even a partial one.
Even so, a large share of Afghanistan’s politicians, intellectuals and political forces are still waiting for a green light from abroad: a change in Washington’s policy, a new decision in Brussels, pressure from the United Nations Security Council (UNSC), or the intervention of a power that would once again alter the country’s equation. This expectation may be rooted in the political tradition of Afghanistan over past decades, a period when major developments in the country were often accompanied by the intervention or support of foreign powers. But the fundamental lesson of that same experience is that foreign support, however important, cannot replace national will, popular legitimacy, and agreement among the people of Afghanistan on a shared future. Moving beyond Taliban rule also requires that opposition forces move beyond self-centeredness, fragmentation, and the politics of waiting, and take responsibility and the initiative for change into their own hands on the basis of a national covenant.
Afghanistan’s leaders and politicians have repeatedly and historically made one fundamental mistake: they have often misunderstood the word “support.” They have confused the support of a foreign country with a permanent guarantee of survival, an unlimited political commitment, and a transfer of the country’s fate into their own hands. In international relations, however, support is neither a sentimental pact nor a blank check. It is a temporary and conditional instrument for serving the specific interests of the supporting country. Whenever those interests change, the level and form of support change too, or end altogether. Even so, many of our leaders, instead of using foreign support to build domestic legitimacy, strengthen institutions, secure national unity and achieve self-sufficiency, made it a substitute for a popular base and national capacity. The result has been that when external support was reduced or cut, the entire political structure collapsed. The key lesson of our history is that foreign support can be an opportunity, but it can never replace the will of the people, internal legitimacy, accountable leadership, and national capability.
The West today is simultaneously facing a set of domestic and external challenges, such as strategic competition with China and Russia, wars and instability on Europe’s periphery, economic pressures and inflation, migration, climate change, an ageing population, social inequality, political polarization, the rise of right-wing and populist movements, declining trust in democratic institutions, and concerns about the consequences of technology and artificial intelligence. In such conditions, the West’s dominant political and social discourse is no longer focused, even symbolically, as it was two decades ago, on nation-building, the spread of democracy and lengthy interventions in distant countries. Instead, it centers on domestic security, border control and migration, the cost of living, employment, economic competition, energy, collective defense and reducing costly foreign commitments. For this reason, in the West’s calculations, Afghanistan has gone from a strategic project to an issue mainly related to containing terrorism, migration, humanitarian aid and defending minimum human rights standards. This reality shows that the people of Afghanistan should not tie the resolution of their country’s political crisis to a change of priorities or a renewed intervention by the West.
The West has neither the will to intervene again nor does Afghanistan retain in its strategic calculations the place it held twenty years ago. The United States and Europe may speak of women’s rights, girls’ education, counterterrorism and the formation of an inclusive government. They may provide humanitarian aid and refuse to recognize the Taliban. But there is no serious sign that they want to launch a new political or military project to change power in Afghanistan. On the other hand, the growing transatlantic rift and declining mutual trust between America and Europe, particularly over security, trade, energy supply, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), and the division of global responsibilities, have also weakened the West’s capacity and will to adopt a unified, sustained, and long-term policy toward crises such as Afghanistan.
Therefore, waiting for a rescuing intervention is neither a strategy nor a policy. It is a form of suspension of national will.
Where is our political and moral compass heading?
Afghanistan’s problem is not only the Taliban. The Taliban are the harsh and extreme manifestation of a deeper crisis in our politics and society: a crisis of self-definition, a crisis of national trust and a crisis of shared purpose.
We still do not clearly know how we define ourselves. Do we regard Afghanistan as a historic nation-state in which all citizens, while preserving their ethnic and linguistic identities, are equal in its political ownership? Or do we see it as a collection of rival ethnic groups whose share of power should be determined solely by numbers, geography, or military strength? Do we want a republic based on votes and law, or do we merely want to push the Taliban aside so that former politicians can return to power? Is defending the rights of women and citizens a non-negotiable principle, or an instrument for winning foreign support?
These questions matter all the more because the very politicians of ours who today, outside Afghanistan, cling to the slogan of women’s rights and education do not have a very good record on this inside the country. We have no clear and honest answer to these questions, so we should not expect the world to take us seriously.
Without a moral and political compass, even if the Taliban fall tomorrow, Afghanistan’s crisis will not end. Merely changing the rulers, without changing political culture, only changes the faces of power.
Losing traditional allies
Another sign of our political confusion is the contradictory behavior toward Afghanistan’s traditional allies. Some currents, out of despair or short-term calculations, speak as though Afghanistan’s entire relationship with the West had been a mistake. Others, conversely, have remained so dependent on Western support that they have no independent strategy for engaging with the region.
Both approaches are wrong.
Afghanistan should not take an identity-based stance against the West. The United States, the European Union (EU), Canada, the United Kingdom, Japan and many other governments allocated extensive resources over two decades to Afghanistan’s reconstruction, education, health, state institutions and civil society. Millions of citizens of Afghanistan benefited from these opportunities. Maintaining relations with these countries, defending shared values, and using their political and legal capacities remain important for Afghanistan.
But relations with the West must not replace our regional policy. Afghanistan’s geography does not change. Iran, Pakistan, Central Asia, China, India, Turkey, the Gulf states and Russia, with their differing interests and approaches, are either neighbors or permanent players in our strategic environment. The West may change its priorities, but the region cannot ignore Afghanistan. There is no doubt that the region played a very minor role in Afghanistan’s reconstruction after the September 11 attacks compared with the West and Europe.
The right path is not to break from the West and take refuge in the East, just as waiting to be rescued by the West is not a solution either. Afghanistan needs a balanced foreign policy: maintaining traditional partnerships, expanding regional relations, and preventing the country from becoming an arena for great power rivalry. The solution must come from Afghanistan, but its support can be regional and international. Political ownership must not be confused with diplomatic isolation.
Common ground of the opposition: the Taliban are not the future of Afghanistan
Among politicians and political currents outside the country, there is one fundamental point in common: the Taliban do not represent the future of Afghanistan. The Taliban may control the country’s territory, but territorial control is not the same as national and legal legitimacy. They did not come to power through elections or public consent; their government structure is not inclusive, and even within their own ethnic monopoly, they have acted in an exclusionary manner. They have effectively removed women from public life, destroyed the legal system and democratic institutions of the Republic era, and replaced them with an authoritarian government founded on a dark interpretation of Islam.
The major opposition currents agree on one principle: the Taliban’s monopolistic rule must not be accepted as Afghanistan’s final fate. The anti-Taliban currents agree on what they do not want, namely the Taliban, but they do not agree on what they do want or how to achieve it.
Is the goal the full restoration of the 2004 Constitution? Should a transitional period be created? Who will lead it? What will the Taliban’s role be in the future order? Is armed struggle the main path, or political pressure and civil disobedience? How should women, youth, ethnic groups, and forces inside the country take part in decision-making? How is the relationship between political resistance and military resistance defined? What guarantee is there that past disputes will not be repeated in the future structure?
The lack of a shared answer to these questions has turned the Taliban’s opponents from a political force into a collection of scattered protests that neither the world nor even the people of Afghanistan take seriously. The political literature against the Taliban over the past five years is not very different from that of the twenty years of the Republic.
Five years on, and still pointing fingers at one another
After every national failure, examining responsibilities is necessary. The fall of the Republic in August 2021 must be investigated independently, with documentation and impartiality. Corruption, excessive concentration of power, weak leadership, secret deals, the collapse of hierarchies, heavy dependence on foreign support, the Doha agreement, and the hasty withdrawal of international forces should all be studied. But examining responsibility is different from intellectual captivity in the past. A just, fair, and impartial investigation of such a national tragedy can only fall within the jurisdiction of independent institutions with democratic credibility in a society.
America and its allies made a miscalculation regarding Afghanistan, and shifted responsibility for this historic and strategic mistake solely onto the leadership of the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan. Even so, a commission to examine the Afghanistan war has still not completed its work.
Five years after the fall, a number of exiled politicians still spend all their energy proving their own innocence and condemning others. The former president, political leaders, commanders, negotiators and former officials each present a separate narrative in which the main responsibility rests on someone else’s shoulders. It is as if, once we prove who gave the last order, who left Kabul, or who negotiated with which side, the path to the future would become clear on its own.
Nations are not built by forgetting the past, but neither do they reach the future by being permanently held captive in the court of yesterday.
We need truth-seeking, not narrative revenge. Responsibility must be accepted, mistakes must be recorded, and lessons learned from them. Then political energy must be directed toward building an alternative. An opposition that draws its entire identity from enmity with a former politician or a rival group cannot become a national alternative to the Taliban.
From system reform to partition: evading the main question
In this situation, some politicians have found the prescription for saving Afghanistan in partition, federalism, a complete change of the constitution, a parliamentary system, decentralization, or a redefinition of national identity. These topics are not illegitimate in themselves. The structure of the state, the division of powers, the method of choosing leaders, and the relationship between the center and the provinces should be freely debated. No legal text is sacred and unchangeable. A future constitution should learn from the experience of past failures.
But the problem is political priority and sequencing.
When women are deprived of education and work, national institutions have disappeared, millions of people are migrants and displaced, the country lacks a legitimate government, and a large part of the population faces a growing humanitarian crisis, starting a struggle over internal borders, the name of the country, or the division of power among ethnic units can deepen divisions. Among all the member states of the United Nations (UN), after five years, only one country has recognized the ruling regime.
The decision on a centralized, decentralized, federal, or parliamentary system must be made by the people of Afghanistan, in a free environment and through a legitimate constitutional process. It must not be made in limited gatherings of exiles, under pressure from foreign powers, or as an instrument of ethnic mobilization to serve the interests of a few biased individuals and interfering countries in the region.
Partition is also not a simple solution to a complex crisis. The population of Afghanistan does not live along distinct and separate ethnic geographic lines. Any territorial division could create a new wave of conflict, forced displacement, and regional rivalry. Those who consider partition an immediate prescription must also honestly explain its human, security, and historical cost.
The big picture is this: Afghanistan first needs a national consensus to end Taliban despotism and restore the people’s right to determine their own destiny. Discussion about the final form of the system should be part of that process, not a substitute for it.
What did successful exile movements do?
History shows that being in exile is not in itself a sign of failure, but success in exile requires patience, organization, a shared message, and constant links with the inside of the country.
Ayatollah Khomeini spent nearly fifteen years in exile, from 1964 to 1979, in Turkey, Iraq and France. Regardless of our judgment about the system established after the Iranian revolution, his experience shows that an exile movement becomes influential when it has a single message, a domestic network, a communication structure, and a recognized leadership. In exile, he did not merely issue statements. He built a coherent political narrative and transmitted it to networks inside Iran. Of course, the fate of the Iranian revolution carries another warning as well: unity to overthrow a system, without clear agreement on the order that follows, can lead to a new monopoly and the elimination of yesterday’s partners.
The African National Congress (ANC) was founded in 1912, banned in 1960, and an important part of its leadership operated in exile for about three decades. This movement did not merely wait for foreign military intervention. It built a diplomatic network, consolidated the moral legitimacy of the anti-apartheid struggle, mobilized international sanctions, maintained its connection with forces inside the country, and eventually managed to link the struggle to negotiation and political transition. Its path was neither short nor free of mistakes, but its central goal was not lost under a heap of secondary disputes. The apartheid regime declared the ANC banned in 1960, and its open activity was not possible until 1990. In other words, nearly thirty years of organized resistance were needed.
Bangladesh’s government in exile was a different example. This government was formed in April 1971 and operated until independence in December of the same year. Its period was short, but from the outset it had a government structure, a cabinet, diplomacy, a military force, a radio station, and a clear political goal. Most importantly, it relied on the result of the 1970 election and a clear popular base, and it managed to link India’s decisive support to a national strategy.
These examples do not offer a single prescription, but they share several lessons: a political alternative must have an organization; the goal must be clear; the leadership must be accountable; contact with the inside of the country must not be severed; foreign support must serve the national program; and the plan for the post-change period must be ready before coming to power.
What do the Taliban’s opponents need?
What the Taliban’s opponents need above all is unity of view around a short and clear national covenant. It must be a covenant beyond party programs and personal rivalries, one that emphasizes preserving territorial integrity, equality of citizens, the full rights of women and girls, the sovereignty of the people’s will, political freedoms, transitional justice, and determining the future system through the constitution and free elections. Unity does not mean merging all currents into one party or accepting one leader, but agreement on a shared goal, principles and roadmap. Women, youth, civil society, professionals, former forces, and citizens of Afghanistan inside the country must have a real share in this process. Such a consensus can turn the scattered opposition into a credible national alternative, win the trust of the region and change the relationship with the West from a request for rescue to a partnership based on human rights, non-recognition of the Taliban and support for a real political process.
Time to leave the politics of waiting
Afghanistan today suffers most from the absence of a coherent alternative. The Taliban benefit from the fragmentation of their opponents, the world’s fatigue, and disagreements among the countries of the region. They know that many of their rivals, instead of confronting the illegitimate rule that has monopolized power and taken the country hostage, are more engaged in quarrels with one another. Yet the Taliban’s biggest enemy is themselves and their oppressive policies. These policies spread public discontent, but in the absence of a credible and coherent alternative, that discontent does not turn into an effective force for change.
No foreign meeting, international resolution, or internal Taliban dispute will, on its own, free Afghanistan. An opportunity arises when the people of Afghanistan have built in advance the capacity to use it. If a rift appears in the Taliban structure tomorrow but there is no organized national alternative, the result may be not freedom but chaos, more interference by neighbors or the emergence of another form of extremism.
We must ask the world for help, but we must not entrust our future to the world’s decisions. We must work with the region, but we must not become an instrument of regional rivalries. We must defend the experience of republican democracy, but not deny its mistakes. We must reject the Taliban, but not treat merely being anti-Taliban as a political program.
The path to saving Afghanistan is not written in Washington, nor in Moscow, Tehran, Islamabad, Delhi or Beijing. This path must first take shape among the people of Afghanistan themselves: in a shared definition of the country, in rebuilding trust, in accepting responsibility, in tolerating difference and in agreement on principles that no individual, ethnic group, party or foreign power can confiscate.
The experience of more than four decades shows that periods of rule in Afghanistan have lasted about eleven years on average. This calendar figure is not a prediction for the fall of the Taliban, but it makes one thing clear: no rule should be considered eternal. Democratic forces must not tie the country’s future to waiting for change, spontaneous collapse or an explosion from within the Taliban. Their responsibility today is to reach unity of view on a national covenant and shape a credible, inclusive and all-encompassing alternative, so that the next change, instead of repeating the cycle of violence and monopoly, provides the ground for establishing a system based on the will of the people, equal citizen rights and accountability.
The main question is no longer who was to blame in 2021. The question is who is ready today to accept responsibility for the future.
Afghanistan will move beyond the Taliban when its opponents move beyond self-centeredness, fragmentation, and the politics of waiting. Freedom begins from the moment a nation decides to take its fate into its own hands and not leave its salvation to others.
You can read the Persian version of this analysis here:
