Since the Taliban regained control of Afghanistan in August 2021, one narrative has remained constant in their rhetoric and that of their lobbyists: “security.” They tout it as their greatest achievement, and their supporters—both at home and abroad—frequently showcase it with polished flair in national and international forums. In contrast to the previous governments of Ashraf Ghani and Hamid Karzai, which were often criticized for their failure to provide security, the Taliban now claim they have established nationwide stability. But what exactly do the Taliban mean by “security”? And by what standards is it defined? Their conception of security is deeply embedded in a strategy of calculated ambiguity—a political tactic under which all of their claims are cloaked. The Taliban seem to believe that by withholding information and cutting off channels of public communication, they can impose their version of security as truth. Their use of this strategy is neither accidental nor incidental; it is systematic and deliberate. It is an attempt to blind both the Afghan people and the international community, to fabricate a new image of the Taliban—not one rooted in genuine transformation, but rather concealed behind a mask. That mask hides a face still defined by terror, violence, criminality, and hostility to safety. It is designed to project the illusion of saviors and security providers rather than reveal their actual nature.
The purpose of this short piece is to challenge these deceptive and populist portrayals and to encourage my fellow citizens not to accept or internalize these misleading narratives. In what follows, I aim to dissect the Taliban’s security claims and untangle the knots of misinformation that have clouded public understanding. To do this with clarity, I will explore the issue through a series of questions and answers: What is the Taliban’s objective in exaggerating and promoting their version of security? Why have they chosen this narrative as an internal and international legitimacy tool? And finally, what is security, and does the Taliban’s version of it truly exist, or is it simply rhetoric and illusion?
The Exaggeration of Security
Traditional methods no longer suffice in today’s complex world. As mentioned earlier, the intricate nature of modern life demands new approaches, especially in politics, where no realm can escape the need for adaptation. Any regime that wishes to govern effectively in today’s landscape must adopt contemporary strategies, whether those adaptations are sincere or simply tools for deception. Today, wars are waged less with weapons and more with information. The Taliban, now in control of a nation in this era, must operate with political tools that are compatible with the age. In every era, one thing binds dictators together: they all tend to follow similar political patterns. In the author’s view, any ruler who disregards human and universal values and governs through coercion and force embodies the essence of dictatorship. The Taliban’s authoritarianism mirrors the policies of other despotic regimes. Leaders who have little to offer in terms of positive governance often seek to legitimize themselves by highlighting the failures of their predecessors. This tendency is a common political tactic, not unique to Afghanistan—it has become a global practice among authoritarian rulers seeking to mask their deficiencies with manufactured successes.
Every group that seizes power seeks to obscure its failings by magnifying the shortcomings of its predecessors, and the Taliban are no exception. There is no denying that the previous Afghan governments were incompetent, corrupt, and dysfunctional. Yet the Taliban cannot in any sense be seen as a credible or constructive alternative. The dark legacy of the republican era—especially under Ashraf Ghani—is etched into the memory of every Afghan citizen. But where did that insecurity stem from? While warlords and profiteers were scrambling to accumulate wealth, who were the ones launching suicide attacks and planting bombs that devastated defenseless civilians? These are not rhetorical questions; Afghans know the answers well. It was the Taliban who, amidst the chaos and greed of the former regime, seized the opportunity to wage a bloody campaign that turned the country into a river of blood. They know full well that people are exhausted by insecurity and can no longer bear the loss of loved ones. And this very fear has become one of their greatest weapons, used to manipulate public sentiment by suggesting that only their rule can prevent a return to the horrors of the past. This is why they relentlessly reinforce that narrative from every possible platform: to etch it into public consciousness and create the illusion that the only path to security is through Taliban rule.
Security as a Tool of Legitimacy
As previously discussed, “security” has become one of the Taliban’s primary instruments for gaining both domestic and international legitimacy. To some, it might seem simplistic—this constant refrain of national security and the crackdown on rival groups like ISIS-K. But the reality is far more calculated and complex than it appears. This strategy is the product of a carefully designed plan, crafted by the Taliban’s security advisors to serve very specific goals. Chief among them is legitimacy, both within Afghanistan and on the global stage. And the decision to use “security” as their vehicle is not arbitrary. In a country scarred by decades of war, where countless lives have been shattered, peace is the most valuable currency. The Taliban understand this. They know how exhausted the people are. For two decades, they were the architects of violence, watching as civilians woke to the sound of explosions, said goodbye to their families each morning, unsure if they would return from school, work, or the market. The Taliban designed that nightmare. And now they understand better than anyone just how desperate Afghans are for relief. For those who began each day with the whisper of death in their ears, what could be more precious than security? That is precisely the emotional lever the Taliban pull to position themselves as the sole guarantors of peace—and thus earn domestic legitimacy. In a country starving for safety, they fish in troubled waters, exploiting the pain they helped create.
The second dimension is international. In the age of interconnectedness and technology, the world has become like a tightly packed basket of fruit—one rotten piece can quickly spoil the rest. Applying this metaphor to geopolitics, instability or terrorism in Afghanistan can rapidly become a threat to neighboring countries and the wider world. With this in mind, the Taliban know that to ensure their global survival, they must project an image of control and safety—an Afghanistan that poses no danger to regional or global security. They understand that foreign governments and international institutions are more likely to accept a regime that can keep extremism within its borders in check. Thus, their emphasis on “security” is not about the well-being of the Afghan people, but about survival: securing the recognition, legitimacy, and continuity of their rule. Security, in the hands of the Taliban, is not a value—it is a calculated narrative, wielded to justify both their domestic control and international relevance.
What Is Security?
Security means that the citizens of a country can live without fear or anxiety. It means they don’t wake up each morning consumed by dread and hopelessness. It means they can head to school, university, or work with peace of mind, and go to bed at night feeling safe, able to dream of a better future. True security allows people to speak openly about their problems and the issues facing their country. It guarantees freedom of expression, thought, and action. It ensures the right to choose one’s path in life. These are the fundamentals of any genuinely secure society. Now ask yourself: in our country, where we’re told “security has been fully restored”—how many of these conditions exist? Ninety-seven percent of the population is suffering from food insecurity. The regime, in a desperate bid to fill the empty pockets of its citizens, devises new financial burdens every day. There is no freedom of expression. The media have been silenced. Civil society activists, academics, writers, protesters, and others critical of the Taliban are imprisoned. Taxes have been raised to their highest levels. There are no employment opportunities. Half the population has been barred from education and work. Thousands have fled the country, terrified of another Taliban resurgence. Half of those exiles have drowned in the sea. Innocent people are executed across the country on vague or fabricated charges. Others are lashed, stoned, or summarily punished. And this is just the beginning—listing every abuse would exhaust the reader’s patience.
So, where is this so-called security? Can this truly be called safety? Security does not mean: “We won’t kill you, as long as you die silently from hunger and poverty.” Nor does it mean: “You will survive, as long as you never raise your voice.” What the Taliban claim to have delivered simply doesn’t exist in practice. Perhaps they can obscure the truth for international observers or those living outside Afghanistan. But for those of us within the country, the reality is clear: Afghanistan is in one of the most insecure states in its history, in every sense of the word. Afghans—especially those who do not share the Taliban’s ideology—are living in unbearable conditions, yet they are forced into silence.
From everything discussed so far, it becomes evident that the “nationwide security” touted by the Taliban and their lobbyists is a fabrication—a veil of secrecy wrapped around the harsh truth of widespread insecurity. Numerous reports, from the United Nations Security Council to independent international organizations, have confirmed the growing presence of terrorist groups in Afghanistan. Yet the Taliban continue to deny it. Bombings and suicide attacks still occur daily, but media outlets are forbidden from reporting them. People are overwhelmed by poverty and hunger, while Taliban leaders, instead of addressing food insecurity, advise the poor to “pray for the rich.” In short, in no aspect of life for ordinary Afghans does anything resembling true security exist. What the Taliban present as safety is merely an attempt to whitewash their failures, hidden beneath the shadow of past regimes.
And beyond all this—how can a society feel at peace in the presence of those who, over the past two decades, have slaughtered thousands of their loved ones? How can anyone begin their day by encountering the murderers of their father, brother, sister, or mother, watching them walk freely in the streets instead of facing justice, and still be expected to obey them? What part of that can be described as “complete security”? That isn’t peace; it’s the cruelest form of humiliation for every Afghan citizen.
You can read the Persian version of this analysis here:
