Reaping What They Sowed: Pakistan’s Taliban Problem

Pakistan’s decades of sowing terrorism across the region have now bitten its own feet, and the country is bleeding.
Journalist

Pakistan’s decades of sowing terrorism across the region have now bitten its own feet, and the country is bleeding.
For years, the power elite in Islamabad and Rawalpindi treated terrorist groups as tools for cheap leverage to bend Afghanistan, injure India, and implement its influence they couldn’t earn through economic strength or internal governance. They called it “strategic depth,” which, in practice, it meant outsourcing anti-India foreign policy to terror groups, who see guns and sermons as the only way of living. Today’s Pakistan border firefights with the Taliban, a group Islamabad sheltered and fed for decades, are not a mystery. They are just harvesting what they sow.
Pakistan midwifed and sheltered the Taliban for years, offering sanctuary, medical care, and fundraising routes through Friday-prayer networks in its mosques. The bet was simple: a friendly Islamic emirate in Kabul would keep India out, give Pakistan room to maneuver, and keep its western border calm. Instead, the Taliban are behaving exactly as they always have: an ideologically hardline movement that puts creed and internal cohesion above anyone else’s wish list. Even Pakistan’s defense minister, Khawaja Asif, has admitted this, saying, “The Afghan Taliban are our own creation; we nurtured them ..., but they have now become untrustworthy.” Islamabad now calls this a “betrayal.” It isn’t. It’s blowback. When you train yourself to believe a tiger can be a house pet, the problem isn’t the tiger; it’s your stupidity.
Today, when they are seeing the wrong calculated policy bet harming them with bombs going off or border posts burning, Pakistan's favorite and laziest excuse is: “India did it.” The claim is that New Delhi manipulates the situation, funds Baloch movements, and whispers in the Taliban’s ear. One of the reasons is India's recent close engagement with the Taliban and the group Foreign Minister's recent visit to India, where India offered humanitarian aid and announced the opening of its embassy in Kabul. Perhaps, India, unlike all other regional states, has kept a cautious diplomatic relationship with the Taliban. All other countries in the region have their embassies open and have strong relations with the group, and India, for its interest, needed it too. But India still has not embraced the Taliban as partners in progress; it has only kept engagement, technical, and humanitarian aid. India, as a victim of decades of cross border terrorism, understands that an outfit that bans girls from school and fetishizes a seventh-century social order will never be a trustworthy partner for a modern state. India is careful because the Taliban are predictable in one way: they will always choose ideology over interdependence.
Meanwhile, Pakistan continues to pay for the same strategic delusion. It still armed narratives and networks that keeps bleeding Afghanistan for 40 years, and they are still nurturing terrorist groups in Kashmir to regularly target India. This trend even reaches globally. The 2005 London bombers who traveled to Pakistan before the attack; Najibullah Zazi, who trained in Pakistan’s tribal belt for a plot against the New York subway; Faisal Shahzad, the Times Square bomber, who admitted training in Waziristan. These names and trails that came to light over the past two decades have all been byproducts of a state that sponsored ecosystems of militancy, and whenever they have been questioned for it, they have acted surprised, as if it had nothing to do with long aimed “strategic depth,” for which it risked its reputation and became a safe haven for terrorist groups.
Now to the other side of the border, the Taliban’s stance toward Pakistan’s terrorism problem is because the Taliban do not see the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) as “terrorists.” They see them as ideological kin, men who fought alongside them, share madrassa lineages, and attended the same funerals over the twenty years of war they carried with the previous government of Afghanistan. Taliban spokesmen, a while ago even scolded Pakistani clerics for using the label “khawarij” for the TTP, which means rebels against Islam, and called the term inflammatory. When Pakistan says to the Afghan Taliban, “close TTP camps,” the Taliban hear “turn your guns on your cousins," which is impossible for them to do. Taliban always claim that there are no terrorist groups in Afghanistan, as Taliban's foreign minister did during his India trip. This indicates the Taliban fundamentally do not view the TTP as a terrorist group, but rather as an Islamist opposition that should be dealt with through talks, reintegration, or, at most, gentle pressure.
Now that the Pakistani jets crossed into Afghanistan airspace multiple times in recent years, claiming to target TTP leaders, often killing civilians as well, the Taliban, eager to posture as guardians of Afghanistan and remove the tag of being Pakistani product in the minds of the Afghanistan people, fired back along the border. Both sides now claim victories and inflated body counts, while ordinary Afghan people and Pakistanis pay the price in the middle of the fire. The tragedy is not that this is happening; the tragedy is that it was always going to happen once Pakistan chose supporting terrorism as a language for foreign policy and the Taliban chose militancy as a state.
Sympathy? It’s hard to conjure it for Islamabad’s elite. They built this, brick by brick. They spent years underwriting the men who blew up schools, assassinated police chiefs, and erased girls from classrooms and women from society. They used Afghanistan as a chessboard and Kashmir as a pressure valve on India. They ignored the simplest lesson in statecraft: you cannot subcontract your sovereignty to zealots and expect them to obey the contract. And when the same zealots turned their guns toward Pakistan, the instinct in Rawalpindi was not repentance but PR, find a camera, say “India,” and wait for applause. It’s a tired routine, and the world is yawning.
None of this exonerates the Taliban. They run a regime of fear and exclusion. They’ve turned a generation of Afghan girls into prisoners of their homes and a generation of Afghan boys into props for a medieval project and sustaining the future of global terrorism. Their claim to “secure Afghanistan's borders” is in direct conflict with their refusal to stop movements of their allies like Al Qaeda in Afghanistan, who dream of global jihad. They say they protect Afghanistan’s territory, then give safe passage to global terrorists into the same territory, paving the way for other countries’ invasion of Afghanistan's territory. They are not a victim of circumstance; they are an author of it. When they posture as defenders of Afghanistan's dignity against Pakistan, don’t forget that their definition of dignity excludes half the country, women. A border skirmish does not whitewash a war on women.

In November 2010, a man with a distinctive turban, considered the special representative of Mullah Omar, was discreetly transported by a German intelligence from the Gulf to Munich during a cold winter and accommodated in a luxurious hotel.
This marked the beginning of secret talks between the Taliban and the United States, later known as the Doha process. Following negotiations between Tayyab Agha and the American delegation, the Taliban opened an office in Qatar and, in exchange for their senior officials, released American prisoner Bowe Bergdahl from Guantanamo Bay.
Earlier, in 2005, German intelligence had hosted two Taliban representatives in a hotel in Zurich for talks, but these negotiations yielded no significant results, as Mullah Omar kept himself separate from al-Qaeda. However, in 2009, an Afghan resident in Germany informed the authorities that if Berlin truly wanted negotiations, they could locate the Taliban’s principal representative, Tayyab Agha. After Mullah Omar’s death, the Taliban removed him from this process.
The Doha process, spanning from Geneva to Mecca, Islamabad, Maldives, and Tashkent, represented Afghanistan’s twelfth attempt at peace. Yet, after agreements were signed, the Taliban failed to uphold the commitments they had made with the international community and Afghans in Qatar, Moscow, and other venues.
From Geneva to Doha (1988–2020), Afghanistan witnessed roughly twelve major and minor peace processes, none of which brought an end to the conflict. Each time, international mediation, ceasefire pledges, and power-sharing proposals were placed on the negotiation table, yet in practice, the sound of war remained dominant.
Afghanistan’s past 37 years of continuous conflict show that the repeated failures of peace efforts reflect a central issue: the Afghan war has been shaped by external pressures, leaders’ pursuit of power, and deep-seated mistrust. Consequently, peace agreements remained mostly on paper, having little to no impact on people’s daily lives or on the sustainable establishment of peace.
In nearly four decades of human history, ten failed peace attempts are remarkable, yet the factors behind Afghanistan’s peace negotiations’ failures remain strikingly consistent.
Geneva: The Withdrawal of Soviet Forces
On December 27, 1979, the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan and installed Babrak Karmal as the head of government. In response, Afghan mujahideen launched fierce and sustained resistance, receiving broad support from the United States, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, and other Arab countries. The war became increasingly costly for the Soviets, and due to economic weakness, international pressure, and the intensity of Afghan resistance, Mikhail Gorbachev decided to withdraw.
As part of this process, on April 14, 1988, under United Nations mediation, the Geneva Accords were signed between Afghanistan, Pakistan, the United States, and the Soviet Union. The agreement focused on the withdrawal of Soviet forces, preventing Pakistan’s interference in Afghanistan’s internal affairs, and facilitating the return of refugees. According to the agreement:
Although the Soviet forces withdrew according to the agreement, the government of Mohammad Najibullah remained in power until spring 1992, as the Soviets continued to provide substantial economic and military support.
Najibullah assumed power on May 4, 1986, following the resignation of Babrak Karmal, becoming both the president of Afghanistan and the head of the ruling party. The Soviet Union supported him because he had previously led the KHAD intelligence agency and wielded significant influence. Relatively young, decisive, and articulate, Najibullah presented himself as a new face for peace and reconciliation, especially as Karmal had weakened due to internal party disputes and a lack of legitimacy.
Despite facing strong opposition within the party from Karmal’s close associates, including Farid Mazdak, Nabi Azimi, Mahmoud Baryalai, and others, Najibullah announced the National Reconciliation Program in a grand assembly on January 15, 1987. The program’s key points included a ceasefire proposal, a general amnesty, the allowance of political parties’ activities, and the establishment of an inclusive political process.
This program had several merits, as it was the first public declaration by a government leader advocating dialogue and reconciliation for peace. It opened a new chapter in politics for diversity and opposition inclusion. Given the public’s war fatigue and the prolonged conflict, it offered a new hope for peace. Through this program, Najibullah was able to maintain power for several years after the Soviet withdrawal.
However, deep divisions within the party (Khalq and Parcham factions) obstructed the practical implementation of the program. The mujahideen, particularly Pakistan-backed groups, rejected the program, labeling it a “communist ploy.” Many Afghans and mujahideen commanders returned to Afghanistan, but there was no effective mechanism for peace—only rhetoric. A lack of trust was a key factor, as neither the mujahideen nor the general public fully believed in it. Having lost the war, the Soviet Union also did not provide full international support for Najibullah’s program. Distrust within the army further weakened the system, with some generals rebelling and undermining governance.
Despite the Geneva Accords, the United States continued supporting the mujahideen after the Soviet withdrawal, intensifying the conflict. Consequently, Najibullah’s government weakened steadily, faced financial strain, and came close to collapse. The intensity of war, international and regional support for the mujahideen, internal party conflicts, lack of trust in the National Reconciliation Program, and the hurried involvement of the international community ultimately pushed Najibullah to resign, leaving the program incomplete.
Najibullah’s National Reconciliation Program was a historic initiative for peace in Afghanistan, as it marked the first national attempt at inclusive reconciliation. Yet, internal divisions, the absence of international trust, hardline opposition, Pakistan’s direct interference, and continued international support for the war led to its failure. Nonetheless, the program remains an important milestone in Afghanistan’s peace history and is remembered to this day as a “missed opportunity.”
Najibullah Resigns and the Mujahideen Fail to Unite
On April 16, 1992, following Dr. Najibullah’s resignation, a major political vacuum emerged in Kabul, effectively ending the influence of the so-called “deep state.” The United Nations sought to establish a transitional government to launch a peace process, but the leaders of the mujahideen each considered themselves the rightful heirs to power.
General Abdul Rashid Dostum’s forces advanced on Kabul from the north. In the east, Gulbuddin Hekmatyar’s Hezb-e Islami mobilized its troops toward the capital. Jamiat-e Islami, led by Burhanuddin Rabbani and commanded by Ahmad Shah Massoud, entered from Panjshir. Meanwhile, Abdul Ali Mazari’s Hezb-e Wahdat demanded a share of power in Kabul.
By late April 1992, the mujahideen entered Kabul, and a transitional government was announced, with Burhanuddin Rabbani appointed as president. However, U.S. support was cut off, and complete anarchy ensued in Kabul.
Hekmatyar demanded the prime ministership and refused to recognize Rabbani’s authority. This disagreement triggered armed conflict in the city. Hezb-e Wahdat’s forces also engaged in heavy fighting with Jamiat-e Islami troops in western Kabul. Dostum, who had initially allied with Rabbani, later opposed him, further complicating the battlefield dynamics.
The Islamabad Peace Process
While Kabul was engulfed in a struggle for power, peace negotiations on power-sharing continued. In March 1993, direct peace talks began, with the first session hosted by Pakistan’s President Ghulam Ishaq Khan in Islamabad.
These talks, convened under external pressure, aimed to reconcile Afghan mujahideen leaders. The resulting Islamabad Accord established an agreement on power-sharing: Burhanuddin Rabbani would serve as head of state, and Gulbuddin Hekmatyar would become prime minister. It was also agreed that a loya jirga (grand assembly) would be convened to form a unified government and draft a new constitution.
During the negotiations, hostilities slightly decreased, but the fighting did not cease entirely.
The accord quickly failed. Deep divisions among the mujahideen, widespread distrust, and competing ambitions for control reignited the fighting. Kabul once again became a target of rockets and bombardments, extinguishing hopes for lasting peace.
The Mecca Peace Accord
Following the failure of the Islamabad Accord, further negotiations were held in Mecca at the end of 1993, hosted by Saudi Arabia. The objective was to end Kabul’s internal conflicts, implement power-sharing, and establish a unified government. Afghan leaders present included President Burhanuddin Rabbani, Gulbuddin Hekmatyar, Abdul Ali Mazari, and other key figures.
Some short-term agreements were reached, connected to prior Islamabad commitments. All leaders swore on the Quran to implement the agreements and cease hostilities. However, due to a lack of trust among the jihadist leaders and ongoing struggles for exclusive control, these agreements were never practically implemented.
In summary, the period following Najibullah’s resignation illustrates the persistent challenges of political fragmentation, mistrust, and competing ambitions among Afghanistan’s mujahideen factions, which prevented the realization of a stable transitional government and enduring peace.
Domestic Peace Efforts in Jalalabad
Following the failures of the Islamabad and Mecca negotiations, a new peace initiative was launched in May 1993 in Jalalabad at the request of Pakistan, led by Haji Qadir.
The process initially involved representatives of the mujahideen leaders and later included the leaders themselves. Its primary objectives were to end the civil war in Kabul, agree on power-sharing arrangements, and establish a joint government.
Three meetings were held among the mujahideen leaders, attended by Burhanuddin Rabbani, Gulbuddin Hekmatyar, Abdul Ali Mazari, and other representatives. Subsequently, the talks included Rabbani, Hekmatyar, Mazari, Abdul Rab Rasul Sayyaf, and other factions, taking place at the royal palace in Jalalabad.
During this period, students from Nangarhar University, at Haji Qadir’s request, staged a human chain demonstration around the royal palace, appealing to all leaders to end the fighting. Despite these efforts, the negotiations produced no tangible results. Abdul Rab Rasul Sayyaf insisted that a key actor, Ahmad Shah Massoud, be brought into the talks, prompting a move to Kabul.
Rabbani cited an ear ailment as a reason for his absence, although Haji Qadir insisted that Dr. Ishaq Khawarin could treat him in Jalalabad. Nevertheless, Rabbani left the city, breaking the students’ human chain. After seven days of talks, only temporary agreements were reached, and the withdrawal of key combatants from the negotiations indicated that the Jalalabad talks were likely more symbolic than substantive.
Following these talks, Osama bin Laden relocated from Sudan to Afghanistan, establishing a base in Loya Leva, Jalalabad, with his associates and family.
The Mahi-Pur Negotiations
After the failure of the Jalalabad talks, another round of negotiations was held in 1993 among Burhanuddin Rabbani, Ahmad Shah Massoud, Gulbuddin Hekmatyar, and Abdul Rashid Dostum in Mahi-Pur. These negotiations produced a relative outcome: Hekmatyar’s Hezb-e Islami would be granted not only the prime ministership but also several other ministerial positions, with the expectation that Hekmatyar would go to Kabul to assume office.
It was decided that Hezb-e Islami would be disarmed upon entering Kabul. However, Hekmatyar remained in Chahar Asiab and appointed his representative Abdul Sabur Farid as prime minister. Farid took the oath of office and began his duties.
The first Mahi-Pur agreement collapsed after just 21 days. Shortly thereafter, Abdul Sabur Farid traveled to Jalalabad on an official visit and later went to Pakistan, where he was denied permission to return.
The collapse of the first Mahi-Pur agreement reflected the challenges of uneven power-sharing, external pressures, and mutual distrust. These dynamics paved the way for the emergence of the Taliban, who for the first time publicly declared their presence in Kandahar in 1994.
Maidan Wardak Negotiations
In 1995, after the fall of Ghazni, the Taliban easily advanced into Maidan Wardak. However, many of their attacks were directed against Hezb-e Islami fighters. To address this, Ahmad Shah Massoud, the Defense Minister of Burhanuddin Rabbani’s government, initiated negotiations with the Taliban in Maidan Wardak to form a joint front.
The negotiations primarily focused on power-sharing and the structure of governance. However, the Taliban demanded full control over everything from Massoud and the government, which prevented the talks from reaching any conclusion. During this time, Abdul Ali Mazari, leader of Hezb-e Wahdat, also went south of Kabul to negotiate with the Taliban near Ghazni, where he was killed.
These events revealed that the Taliban were unwilling to engage in any meaningful negotiations, paving the way for another round of discussions between Hezb-e Islami and Jamiat-e Islami.
Second Mahi-Pur Agreement
After the Taliban captured Kandahar, Burhanuddin Rabbani told Ata Mohammad Qismat, a journalist for Nangarhar National Radio and Television, that the Taliban were “white doves of peace” who had risen against militants and that a mutual understanding could eventually be reached.
Initially, Taliban attacks targeted Hezb-e Islami fighters, but three weeks later, when the Taliban reached Herat, they launched attacks against Ismail Khan, a commander of Jamiat-e Islami. Both Hezb-e Islami and Jamiat-e Islami became opposition groups for the Taliban.
The Taliban attacks on these groups prompted them to return to the negotiating table in 1996, initiating the second round of Mahi-Pur talks. The agreement stipulated that Gulbuddin Hekmatyar would serve as Prime Minister, Abdul Hadi Arghandiwal as Finance Minister, Wahidullah Sabawoon as Defense Minister, and Engineer Qutbuddin Hilal as Interior Minister.
Two days after the second Mahi-Pur agreement, Hekmatyar and his associates conducted the oath-taking ceremony in Kabul. However, shortly afterward, the Taliban captured Kabul, leaving the agreement incomplete. One reason for the collapse was the delay; had the first Mahi-Pur agreement been fully implemented, the final crisis may have been avoided.
Return to Islamabad
From 1996 to 1998, no peace negotiations occurred in Afghanistan. In 1998, however, Bill Richardson, the US representative at the United Nations, attempted to mediate in the Afghan peace process and encouraged the Taliban to engage in dialogue.
In April 1998, Richardson visited Kabul and Islamabad, meeting separately with the Taliban, opposition groups, and regional officials. The talks focused on ending the civil war, agreeing on a ceasefire, and initiating a political peace process.
Richardson emphasized that if the Taliban wanted international legitimacy, foreign support, and aid access, they had to participate in negotiations. Under this pressure, Taliban leaders agreed to engage in talks for the first time. The Taliban delegation was led by Wakil Ahmad Matukal, while the United Front delegation was led by Yunus Qanuni. Negotiations commenced in Islamabad.
Pakistan played a key role in facilitating the visit and persuading the Taliban. Although commitments were made to begin dialogue, the lack of trust and failure to implement promises led to continued fighting. These negotiations, while heavily covered in the media, remained largely symbolic and did not produce tangible results by 2000.
Ashgabat Hosts Peace Talks
Following the Islamabad negotiations, in 2000, peace talks were held in Ashgabat, the capital of Turkmenistan, between former Pakistani intelligence chief Nasirullah Babar and Ahmad Shah Massoud’s group. Representing the Taliban, Babar pledged that a second round of talks would take place in Ashgabat, and in December of the same year, both sides met to continue discussions.
The outcome of these talks was limited to a press statement; the fighting did not stop and continued until the US-led international coalition intervened in Afghanistan. These peace negotiations, initiated under pressure from the United States and Pakistan, ended unsuccessfully and without any tangible results.
Repeating History: From the Geneva Agreement to the Doha Agreement
The Doha Agreement was signed on February 29, 2020, between the Taliban and the United States in Doha, Qatar. This agreement was the culmination of efforts that had begun in 2009 in Munich, Germany, through German intelligence channels. Simultaneously, scattered meetings occurred in the Maldives and Saudi Arabia between the Afghan government and armed groups, but they produced no significant outcomes.
From 2001, the US, supported by NATO forces, waged war against the Taliban regime under the pretext of eliminating al-Qaeda, toppling the Taliban government, and establishing a new Afghan government. However, the Taliban continued fighting against the Afghan government and international forces for the next 20 years. During this period, the Taliban received indirect support from Pakistan, Iran, Russia, and China, which contributed to sustaining the conflict in Afghanistan.
Key Points of the Doha Agreement:
Although the agreement was signed in the name of peace, Afghanistan’s government weakened due to reduced international aid, intensifying conflict, and the withdrawal of supporting military organizations. Consequently, on August 15, 2021, the Taliban captured Kabul, leading to the collapse of President Ashraf Ghani’s government. Another contributing factor was that the US limited its support to the Afghan government, military contractors departed, the air force collapsed, and the national army disintegrated.
Patterns in Afghanistan’s Peace Efforts
Over the past four decades, Afghanistan has witnessed 12 major and minor peace negotiations, all of which have failed. The causes of failure are largely consistent and evident:
This pattern demonstrates that Afghanistan’s long struggle for peace has repeatedly been shaped more by external influence and power politics than by genuine reconciliation or addressing the needs of its people.
It has been four years since the fall of the republic in Afghanistan. During this period, a diverse array of political movements, military fronts, and civil resistance groups have emerged—both within the country and beyond its borders.
What unites these forces is their opposition to the Taliban.
Several of these groups have proposed plans and programmes under the banner of “roadmaps,” aimed at breaking the current deadlock and envisioning a new future for Afghanistan. In parallel, efforts have begun to foster coordination and solidarity among anti-Taliban forces.
Among these efforts, certain structures have been established to serve as a common umbrella for the opposition groups. Notable examples include the Vienna Process for a Democratic Afghanistan, the National Resistance Council for the Salvation of Afghanistan, and more recently, the National Assembly for the Salvation of Afghanistan. Some of these entities have also published their own dedicated roadmaps to address the crises in Afghanistan.
Reviewing the Roadmaps
The Mosaic Global Foundation was the first institution to study and synthesise the roadmaps of Afghanistan’s political and civil movements. The overall objective is to formulate a “Composite Comprehensive Roadmap”—a strategic step towards fostering cohesion and coordination among Afghanistan’s fragmented political and civil opposition.
Although initiatives such as the Vienna Process, the National Resistance Council, and the National Assembly have made strides towards alignment, the absence of a clear vision regarding engagement with the Taliban has hindered meaningful outcomes. One such example is the Afghanistan National Dialogue held in Istanbul, Turkey. However, no effort has yet succeeded in producing a unified roadmap.
During its annual conference at the University of Cambridge in September 2024, the Mosaic Foundation invited Afghanistan’s six political movements to present their plans and roadmaps. Independent experts were also invited to assess these proposals. The participating organisations shared their visions for Afghanistan’s future:
- Vienna Process for a Democratic Afghanistan
- National Resistance Council for the Salvation of Afghanistan
- National Trust Movement of Afghanistan
- The Federalists Assembly of Afghanistan
- Afghanistan Freedom Front
- Citizens’ Party of Afghanistan
These roadmaps reflected a wide spectrum of political perspectives, each offering distinct strategies for resolving the current crisis. The conference concluded with a shared sense of urgency and responsibility, emphasising the potential of innovative and collaborative solutions. This exchange of ideas laid the groundwork for future dialogue and action.
A review conducted by Mr David Loyn revealed that over 90% of the content across these roadmaps overlapped—underscoring the need to develop a “Composite Comprehensive Roadmap.”
Towards a Composite Comprehensive Roadmap
Following the findings of the 2024 conference, a Working Group was formed comprising representatives from some of the six roadmap-presenting movements and independent experts. Their task was to gather additional proposals and extract common themes. The Mosaic Foundation facilitated this process.
Representatives from the National Trust Movement and the Vienna Process are part of this working group. Leadership of the group was entrusted to Mehr, an organisation dedicated to fostering coordination among anti-Taliban forces. To strengthen representation from civil society, women, and journalists, the New Afghanistan Democratic Forum (NAD-Forum)—an inclusive, diverse and democratic civil society platform—was also invited to join.
Common Themes Across Proposals
The working group reviewed a total of 12 roadmaps and 8 proposals submitted by various organisations. Their analysis revealed that approximately 90% of the visions and objectives were aligned. A fundamental commonality across all proposals was deep dissatisfaction with the current situation and a commitment to change.
Most organisations agreed that Afghanistan’s future political system should be based on the people’s right to self-determination, ideally through a nationwide referendum. All movements prioritised values such as democracy, human rights, and civil liberties.
Points of Difference
Despite extensive common ground, notable differences remain. Chief among them is the varied interpretation of ethnic injustice—a key point of contention. There are also divergent views on methods of resistance and pathways to change. Some groups’ strategy for realistion of change is support all forms of legitimate struggle, including armed resistance, while others shun mean of violence, advocating for peaceful approaches such as “engagement” with the Taliban.
In addition, opinions differ on the role of foreign actors and international institutions. Some emphasise their importance, while others place primary responsibility on domestic political and civil movements.
Moreover, political currents have a difference of view on he preferred political system—whether centralised, federal, or decentralised parliamentary—remains a subject of debate.
Each option requires serious and expert dialogue. Nonetheless, some movements view the recognition of cultural diversity and the re-examination of national identities and symbols as essential to the legitimacy of governance.
Hence, ongoing dialogue among these movements is deemed crucial, and the Mosaic Foundation is committed to providing the necessary platform for such engagement.
The 2025 Conference and Presentation of the Composite Roadmap
The “Composite Comprehensive Roadmap,” developed from the reviewed proposals, is set to be unveiled and discussed at the Mosaic Foundation’s fourth annual conference—known as both Cambridge Afghanistan Series (CAS) and Cambridge Massoud Conference (CMC). CAS-IV is scheduled for 19–20 September 2025 at Jesus College, University of Cambridge.
Mosaic intends to create space—particularly around points of divergence—for open debate and candid dialogue among conference participants. This conversation will include political representatives, civil society activists, women, scholars, including religious scholars (ulema), students, and youth, with the aim of reaching consensus on the final roadmap.
About the Mosaic Global Foundation
The Mosaic Global Foundation is a UK-based charity committed to the values of diversity and pluralism in multicultural societies. It works to promote peace and cooperation across Central Asia.
Hosting its annual conference at the University of Cambridge is one of the Foundation’s key activities. Mosaic also runs numerous projects in education, civil society dialogue, human rights advocacy—particularly supporting campaigns against gender apartheid—intergenerational, including youth dialogue, and intercultural dialogue, and migrant integration in the UK.
Afghanistan International initially published the piece in Persian here.
For four long years Afghanistan has been without a functioning government — a country without a constitution, public participation in power or women present in public life.
Armed resistance, political organising abroad and international diplomatic pressure have failed to gain traction.
Could the homecoming of the Taliban’s political opponents offer a way out of the impasse?
Some optimists once hoped the Taliban’s return to power might soften their hard line and ultimately yield to pragmatic engagement with the outside world.
But their rule has only grown harsher, with repression deepening as the future looks more bleak than ever — particularly for women, youth and civil society activists.
Might there still be an opening for change? A gradual and conditional return of political and civil leaders to the country might be the only way.
A homecoming with international guarantees
The return of politicians and former Afghan jihad leaders would be a vital step in the path toward national reconciliation and reconstruction.
These figures who have played central roles in Afghanistan’s politics for decades must deploy anew their experience and influence in the service of their nation.
But their return must not repeat the failed patterns of the past. Reinserting them into executive power risks reproducing old conflicts. Instead, if their roles are redefined as advisory, supervisory and supportive, their presence could help rebuild public trust, strengthen social cohesion and facilitate a national dialogue.
Their return risks being perceived as surrendering to the Taliban, and might plausibly lead to their detention, house arrest or censorship.
Critics say this fate has befallen former President Hamid Karzai and former High Council for National Reconciliation Chairman Abdullah Abdullah.
To mitigate the risks, the returns must be accompanied by legal and political guarantees by international bodies like the United Nations.
A practical step would be to convene an international conference involving the UN Security Council, neighboring countries and key global stakeholders.
Within this framework, the Security Council could issue a resolution guaranteeing the safety and political rights of returnees.
If opponents of the Taliban choose not to return and accept the inherent risks, Afghanistan’s fate is all but sealed.
Contrary to the hopes of some, a lack of international legitimacy alone is unlikely to hinder the Taliban.
An international community increasingly concerned about cross-border instability and security threats may gradually move toward cautious engagement with the Taliban.
To win the trust of governments and alleviate security concerns, the Taliban may seek to boost intelligence and security cooperation with powers on the fence about recognition.
In this context, if opposition forces fail to return or to form a unified front, the risk of their complete exclusion from Afghanistan’s political scene becomes very real.
Rethinking the Path of Resistance
Alongside political figures, the safe return of influential women, civil society leaders, cultural figures and academics is also essential to redefining Afghanistan’s social and cultural order.
A comprehensive conference be held in Kabul — hosted by the United Nations and with the participation of key regional and global actors — could formally bless the return process.
This conference should establish a clear implementation framework that facilitates the re-engagement of civil society within the country.
The time has come for legitimate homegrown political and civil resistance to replace military strategies. The struggle must no longer be waged on the battlefield, but within the political and social realm.
This shift in direction is not a betrayal of ideals, but a sign of political maturity and a deep understanding of Afghanistan’s complex realities today.
If such an approach is supported collectively by Afghan groups at home and abroad, it will also garner international backing and strengthen leverage against the Taliban.
From Hibatullah's emirate to a new future
One of the most complex obstacles to political reform in Afghanistan is the authoritarian leadership of Taliban leader Mullah Hibatullah Akhundzada.
A central spoiler for outreach to the international community, Akhundzada is also a barrier to more pluralism even within the Taliban itself.
The hard truth remains that the complete removal of the Taliban as a religious-political movement from the equation of power is neither feasible nor backed by regional powers.
It is therefore essential to convince factions within the Taliban that stability and prosperity are achievable only through political coexistence with other components of society.
This path cannot be pursued by dragging Hibatullah to the negotiating table — an approach proven fruitless by past experience — but rather by fostering trust and encouraging change from within the movement.
Backing youth and the private sector
Under current conditions, support for the private sector in the economic, educational, cultural, and social spheres — alongside the empowerment of women and girls through online education — can be a practical way to gradually improve the situation in Afghanistan.
The young, educated, and tech-savvy generation still holds immense potential for contribution and progress.
This generation, which grew up over the past two decades with access to education, technology, media, and global connectivity, has now either migrated or been pushed to the margins. Yet it remains the only genuine hope for rebuilding Afghanistan.
If this force is mobilized through initiatives such as online education, leadership in civil society, meaningful engagement with international institutions, and the creation of networks among a new generation of open-minded leaders free from the hatreds and prejudices of the past, it could lay the groundwork for real transformation.
Such change requires breaking from the traditional power elite and establishing a new space for collaboration and collective thinking.
However, this path is not possible without focused resistance and sustained domestic and international pressure. The Taliban’s behavior will only change if they are compelled. In the current environment, even the most basic demands — such as the reopening of schools and universities — seem achievable only through organized political pressure.
If a new political structure emerges from such a process, aligned with the will of the people, it could also gain international legitimacy.
In this context, global economic and developmental support should be explicitly tied to such a process, creating real incentives for the Taliban and other actors to embrace change.
Afghanistan can no longer afford to repeat the mistakes of the past. Every year of delay destroys thousands of lives, locks thousands of women inside their homes and deprives countless children of education.
Afghanistan can and must be rebuilt — not by force of arms, but through tolerance, reason, and the responsible return of the country’s intellectuals and leaders to the national stage. The path ahead is difficult, but achievable. It could be our last chance to save a nation.
Change is not possible without serious resistance, without collective power and without the will to act together. Dialogue alone is not enough.
The transformation we need requires strategic thinking and the willingness to try new methods where others have clearly failed.
On 21 May 2016, three days after the killing of Akhtar Mohammad Mansour, the former leader of the Taliban, discussions began within the group regarding the selection of a new leader.
As a result of negotiations on 25 May, Mullah Hibatullah Akhundzada emerged as one of the agreed-upon candidates for the Taliban’s leadership.
the founder of the Taliban, had claimed the right to lead the group following his death, and the killing of Mansour reignited this dispute. Similarly, the faction led by Mullah Mohammad Rasul, which had split from the Taliban and declared itself the Supreme Council of the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan, also contested Akhundzada’s leadership.
Though the crisis lingered, just a few days later, on 29 May 2016, Akhundzada was officially appointed as the leader of the Taliban.
Akhundzada is ethnically Noorzai, from Kandahar. Religiously, he is a staunch follower of the radical Deobandi school of thought, to which many Taliban officials are directly or indirectly aligned.
During the war against the former Soviet Union, Akhundzada was politically aligned with Mohammad Younus Khalis and fought under the command of Mullah Mohammad Hassan Akhund, now the Taliban’s Prime Minister, in Kandahar against Soviet forces.
Why Was Akhundzada Chosen as the Leader of the Taliban?
Although Akhundzada did not hold any prominent position during the Taliban’s first regime, he maintained a close relationship with Mullah Omar, the group’s former leader.
In 2016, Mullah Abdul Manan Niazi told the media that there was mutual respect between Mullah Omar and Akhundzada, and that Mullah Omar had appointed him as head of the military courts due to a special trust.
After the fall of the Taliban government, Akhundzada remained briefly in Kandahar before moving to Quetta, where he taught at the Darul Uloom in Kuchlak.
Following confirmation of Mullah Omar’s death and the appointment of Akhtar Mohammad Mansour as Taliban leader, Akhundzada became Mansour’s deputy. During this time, he was also among those who quickly established strong ties with Pakistani intelligence agencies.
Although Akhundzada’s appointment after the assassination of Mansour was relatively swift, it was not without controversy. His strengths, however, ultimately positioned him above other candidates.
Religious Dimension and Extremist Positions
On 26 July 2017, the Taliban launched heavy attacks on security outposts and military bases in the Gereshk district of Helmand province. The initial assault, a suicide car bombing, breached the district's defences.
The Taliban seized several security outposts but faced fierce resistance at a military base known as “Bari.” Capturing this stronghold was a bloody and difficult task. The Taliban used grenades and explosives to breach the fortifications.
This deadly mission was assigned to members of the “Muntazira Unit” of suicide bombers, including Khalid Abdul Rahman, the son of Akhundzada. Khalid was killed while placing explosives on the base’s defensive walls.
It is reported that Khalid undertook this mission with the blessing of both his father and mother. Akhundzada referred to the act as a “martyrdom operation,” and the Taliban hailed it as a symbol of their leader’s sincerity. This event further bolstered Akhundzada’s standing within the Taliban, portraying him as a leader fully committed to his ideology, even at personal cost.
In terms of religious knowledge, Akhundzada holds the highest scholarly rank among Taliban leaders. He bears the titles Sheikh al-Hadith and Sheikh al-Quran and has issued numerous fatwas in support of the war in Afghanistan.
His fatwas carry greater authority within the Taliban than those of any other cleric. As a teacher at the Darul Uloom in Kuchlak, his rulings were accepted by his direct and indirect students alike.
In 2003, 2004, and 2006, he issued fatwas declaring the war in Afghanistan to be “jihad.” Upon appointing Mohammad Yaqub Mujahid and Sirajuddin Haqqani as his deputies in 2016, he again issued fatwas to intensify the war.
Akhundzada’s Ethnic Affiliation
Ethnically, Akhundzada is from the Noorzai clan, a branch of the Durrani tribe, historically at odds with the Achakzai tribe.
Ethnicity played a significant role in his selection as leader. During the previous Afghan government, the Achakzai tribe members held power in Kandahar. The Noorzai members were the only group capable of counterbalancing them.
Military and Intelligence Aspects
Although Akhundzada lacked military experience, at a time when the war against the Taliban was intensifying, the movement needed a leader whose religious authority could unify and inspire its fighters, and Hibatullah was the strongest candidate.
The war effort was led by Noorzai commanders, members of Mullah Omar’s family, Sirajuddin Haqqani, and close allies of Mullah Akhtar Mohammad Mansour, who had ties with Iran.
Funding came largely from Noorzai commanders and Mansour’s associates, including figures such as Ibrahim Sadr, Mullah Naeem Baraich, Qayyum Zakir, Mullah Shirin, Yousuf Wafa, and Abdul Ahad Talib, many of whom have been accused of drug trafficking by international organisations.
Meanwhile, Akhundzada maintained close relations with Pakistani intelligence circles. Many of Mansour’s close allies, former students of Akhundzada, also maintained long-standing connections with Iran. These dynamics made his appointment almost inevitable.
The Importance of the Kuchlak Madrasa in Akhundzada’s Appointment
Akhundzada’s madrasa, located in Kuchlak near Quetta in Pakistan’s Balochistan province, close to the Afghan border, has long served as a religious and strategic refuge for Taliban leaders.
The Haqqania Madrasa of Kuchlak, or Darul Uloom Kuchlak, is one of the Taliban’s most significant centres for religious training. Akhundzada taught there as Sheikh al-Hadith.
Located just east of Quetta, the madrasa has served as the ideological heart of the Taliban, with access strictly controlled.
Both former Afghan presidents Hamid Karzai and Mohammad Ashraf Ghani viewed the Kuchlak madrasa as an intelligence hub for Pakistan.
Its significance lies in its modern facilities, its cadre of hardline Deobandi clerics, and its role in providing religious legitimacy for the Taliban. The fatwa declaring war against the democratic government of Afghanistan was issued from this very madrasa.
Kuchlak serves as a centre for Quranic interpretation and Islamic jurisprudence from an extremist perspective, playing a major role in shaping Taliban ideology. Its curriculum is deeply rooted in radical Deobandi teachings.
A major Pakistani military base, D-134, is located just 12 kilometres from the madrasa, further enhancing its strategic value and underscoring the intelligence support the madrasa enjoys.
Given these factors, the leader of such an institution was a natural choice for the Taliban’s supreme leadership. Thus, Akhundzada was appointed as Emir nine years ago, a position he still holds.
Akhundzada’s Worldview
Hibatullah Akhundzada is one of the most radical adherents of the Deobandi school of thought. His worldview is not only hostile towards non-Islamic societies but also deeply negative regarding women’s education, civil values, Western influences, and modern technology. He defends the imposition of extreme religious interpretations under the guise of Sharia.
A member of the Taliban’s political office in Qatar, speaking anonymously, remarked: “Mullah Hibatullah [Akhundzada] has never listened to the radio, watched television, or had any contact with modern digital media throughout his life.” This suggests he lives in an extremely controlled information environment.
However, sources close to Akhundzada say that since taking power in Afghanistan in 2021, he occasionally listens to foreign radio broadcasts, through which Taliban officials attempt to convey messages to him.
Is Akhundzada Trapped in an Information Prison?
“Information isolation” refers to a situation in which an individual is surrounded by a closed circle of like-minded people, receiving all information, analysis, and reports through this narrow filter. Such individuals are disconnected from media, unaware of external developments, and shielded from criticism and alternative perspectives. Akhundzada exemplifies this state of information isolation.
When a leader hears only information that reinforces his own beliefs, it creates an “echo chamber.” In such an environment, opposing views are either hidden or perceived as hostile. The result is a mindset that becomes increasingly authoritarian and rigid, as no one dares to say: “You’re wrong,” or “The people are angry and hopeless.”
Nine Years of Information Isolation
Since 2016, Akhundzada has lived in a heavily protected and isolated environment. His circle of contact consists solely of a small group of loyal religious figures and intelligence-linked individuals. He is not exposed to media, has no engagement with modern discourse, is unfamiliar with technology, and lacks an understanding of global developments.
This nine-year-long information isolation has not only shaped his personal worldview but has also profoundly influenced the Taliban’s extremist policies such as the ban on women’s education, restricted international relations, and the suppression of civil liberties.
Until the Taliban’s leader escapes this informational prison and gains access to independent sources, criticism, alternative perspectives, and real-world facts, no fundamental change in Taliban policy is likely to occur. Information prisons do not merely isolate an individual; they can hold an entire nation hostage.