More of the same in Afghanistan as Taliban mark four years since return

The Taliban have consolidated their grip on power, excluded women and girls from public life, stamped out internal dissent and external challengers. (AFP)
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Updated 15 August 2025
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More of the same in Afghanistan as Taliban mark four years since return

  • Taliban govern through decrees, but Afghans have aspirations and needs that cannot be fulfilled through edicts and ideology

The Taliban seized control of Afghanistan in 2021 for the second time. Since then, the former insurgents have consolidated their grip on power, excluded women and girls from public life, stamped out internal dissent and external challengers, and gained debut recognition as the country’s official government from Russia, a permanent member of the UN Security Council.

The Taliban govern through decrees, but Afghans have aspirations and needs that cannot be fulfilled through edicts and ideology.

Climate change, an increasing population, and severe cuts to foreign aid will test the Taliban’s ability to lead and not just rule.

Here are five things to know about the Taliban as they start their fifth year in power:

The supreme leader has cemented his legacy

Kandahar-based Hibatullah Akhundzada has led the Taliban from insurgency to authority since his appointment in 2016. But transition and status are peripheral to what he has wanted for the past 20 years: establishing an Islamic system.

Central to this vision was his ratification last year of the Propagation of Virtue and Prevention of Vice Law, which codifies many aspects of Afghan life, including who people can befriend.

In June, Akhundzada said the Taliban had fought and sacrificed themselves for the implementation of Islamic law. It was obligatory to follow the leadership’s commands and directives, he added, and everyone was required to act within the bounds of this obedience.

His supporters emphasize his superior religious authority to issue decrees. The higher education minister went one step further in April, equating criticism of Akhundzada with blasphemy and saying obedience to him was a divine order.

“He (the leader) decides what moves and what doesn’t move, what happens and what doesn’t,” said Ibraheem Bahiss, a senior analyst with Crisis Group’s Asia program.

The Taliban’s internal differences are buried deep

There were pockets within the Taliban that initially advocated lifting bans on women and girls, or at least modifying them, to allow greater global and financial engagement. Akhundzada and his circle withstood such pressure, however, and the Taliban government has emerged from its isolation to develop diplomatic ties and raise several billion dollars every year in tax revenues to keep the lights on.

Power brokers, like Interior Minister Sirajuddin Haqqani, have been weakened. Since November, Akhundzada has had direct control over Afghanistan’s weapons and military equipment, sidelining the Interior Ministry and the Defense Ministry, which is run by Mullah Mohammad Yaqoob, whose father founded the Taliban.

Haqqani, whose uncle was killed in a high-profile suicide attack last December, used to take swipes at the leadership. Not anymore. Haqqani, who heads a powerful network of his own, cannot start a fight with the Kandahar faction and win.

Political deputy Sher Abbas Stanikzai rebuked Akhundzada in January, stating the education bans had no basis in Islamic law, or Sharia. He left Afghanistan shortly afterwards and remains outside the country. He denies reports that he fled or faced arrest had he stayed.

Akhundzada has put Islamic law at the heart of his leadership, while also putting his leadership at the heart of its implementation.

“He’s made himself indispensable, and the entire movement is beholden to him,” Bahiss said.

There’s no sign of change for Afghan women and girls

Russia’s recognition of the Taliban sends a “deeply troubling” message, said Zahra Nader, the editor-in-chief of the Afghan women-led newsroom Zan Times. “It tells the Taliban they can continue to suppress women’s rights and commit systematic human rights violations without facing consequences. They are being rewarded for it. This move is a slap in the face to Afghan women.”

There is opposition to the Taliban’s policies, but people are fearful because no powerful alternative exists, she said. The Taliban “took the country by force and maintained control” through violence. Women took to Afghanistan’s streets in protest after the takeover, but these were met with retaliation.

“The absence of visible protest should not be mistaken for acceptance,” said Nader. “It reflects the extreme risks people face for dissent. The resistance is still there, quiet, private, and simmering, but public expression has been crushed through fear and force.”

The Taliban insist that women’s rights are protected. Nader says that, although there is “little faith” that the country’s rulers will change their policies, women are preparing themselves “emotionally and intellectually” for a future beyond the Taliban.

“That hope, that this brutality will not last forever, is what keeps many of them going. These women do not believe the regime will change its stance on women’s rights.”

Regional ties are transactional

It’s not trust or shared values that define the Taliban’s relationships.

Afghanistan borders six countries, many of which are trade partners and also balk at being lectured by the West on rights and freedoms. Landlocked Afghanistan is sandwiched between the Middle East, Central Asia, and South Asia, making it strategically located for energy-rich and energy-hungry nations.

The Taliban’s bilateral relations proceed on common ground: borders, water, transit, and security. Anti-migrant rhetoric, especially in Europe, could increase diplomatic engagement as political parties in the West seek to placate their supporters.

The UK-based International Institute for Strategic Studies said the Taliban’s broader diplomatic interactions were eroding the “non-recognition” approach of the West and ushering in “creeping normalization.”

The Taliban feel comfortable in the region and have found an acceptable way of operating, while the region has adjusted to their presence.

“What we’ve seen in the last four years is not real pressure (on the Taliban), but rather normalization and appeasement,” Nader said. “For those of us watching from inside and outside Afghanistan, this is not just political, it’s personal. It’s painful. It confirms our fear that the suffering of Afghan women is being sidelined in favor of political interests.”

The real test for the Taliban is yet to come

Until April, the US was the largest donor to Afghanistan, where more than half of the population relies on aid to survive. But it terminated this emergency assistance due to concerns that the Taliban were benefiting from such aid.

Thousands of Afghans, including women, will lose their jobs as nongovernmental organizations and agencies scale back their work or shut down. The loss of jobs, contracts, and the shrinking humanitarian footprint also equate to a loss in revenue for the Taliban.

One UN agency said there were “reputational and staff security risks” where humanitarian agencies were forced to suspend operations due to reduced funding, causing grievances among communities, or after partners couldn’t pay suppliers or complete contracts. Aid officials warn that frustration and an increase in tensions will trigger spontaneous violence as people compete for resources and services.

The cuts coincide with the mass expulsions of Afghans from neighboring countries, swelling the population and the ranks of the unemployed while also halting the flow of inward remittances. The World Health Organization estimates the population will increase by 85 percent to 76.88 million by 2050. Afghanistan needs to give people food, shelter, and economic opportunities.

Thomas Ruttig, from the Afghanistan Analysts Network, recalled meeting a leading Taliban figure in a “completely rundown” office during the late 1990s. The Taliban fighter told him they could live under those circumstances, but foreigners couldn’t.

“What they also say is that Afghans can live under those circumstances, which, to an extent, is true,” said Ruttig. “They were forced to live under those circumstances and have learned how to cope.” Now their means of coping — houses, land, and some savings — are gone.

The Taliban took it for granted that they won the war with the help of Allah and the population, he explained. He added that, although the Taliban were a reflection of Afghans’ ambitions, they needed to open up and listen to people’s concerns.

“But they know the more they open up, the more they are questioned, and their rule might be undermined.”

The Taliban needed to think about whether they wanted to govern the country simply to rule it, said Ruttig. “Or do we want to rule this country to make Afghanistan a better place to live? That’s probably the big question in front of them.”


Refugee firefighters in Mauritania battle bushfires to give back to the community that took them in

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Refugee firefighters in Mauritania battle bushfires to give back to the community that took them in

MBERA: The men move in rhythm, swaying in line and beating the ground with spindly tree branches as the sun sets over the barren and hostile Mauritanian desert. The crack of the wood against dry grass lands in unison, a technique perfected by more than a decade of fighting bushfires.
There is no fire today but the men — volunteer firefighters backed by the UN refugee agency — keep on training.
In this region of West Africa, bushfires are deadly. They can break out in the blink of an eye and last for days. The impoverished, vast territory is shared by Mauritanians and more than 250,000 refugees from neighboring Mali, who rely on the scarce vegetation to feed their livestock.
For the refugee firefighters, battling the blazes is a way of giving back to the community that took them in when they fled violence and instability at home in Mali.
Newcomers with an old tradition
Hantam Ag Ahmedou was 11 years old when his family left Mali in 2012 to settle in the Mbera refugee camp in Mauritania, 48 kilometers (30 miles) from the Malian border. Like most refugees and locals, his family are herders and once in Mbera, they saw how quickly bushfires spread and how devastating they can be.
“We said to ourselves: There is this amazing generosity of the host community. These people share with us everything they have,” he told The Associated Press. “We needed to do something to lessen the burden.”
His father started organizing volunteer firefighters, at the time around 200 refugees. The Mauritanians had been fighting bushfires for decades, Ag Ahmedou said, but the Malian refugees brought know-how that gave them an advantage.
“You cannot stop bushfires with water,” Ag Ahmedou said. “That’s impossible, fires sometimes break out a hundred kilometers from the nearest water source.”
Instead they use tree branches, he said, to smother the fire.
“That’s the only way to do it,” he said.
The volunteer ‘brigade’
Since 2018, the firefighters have been under the patronage of the UNHCR. The European Union finances their training and equipment, as well as the clearing of firebreak strips to stop the fires from spreading. The volunteers today count over 360 refugees who work with the region’s authorities and firefighters.
When a bushfire breaks out and the alert comes in, the firefighters jump into their pickup trucks and drive out. Once at the site of a fire, a 20-member team spreads out and starts pounding the ground at the edge of the blaze with acacia branches — a rare tree that has a high resistance to heat.
Usually, three other teams stand by in case the first team needs replacing.
Ag Ahmedou started going out with the firefighters when he was 13, carrying water and food supplies for the men. He helped put out his first fire when he was 18, and has since beaten hundreds of blazes.
He knows how dangerous the task is but he doesn’t let the fear control him.
“Someone has to do it,” he said. “If the fire is not stopped, it can penetrate the refugee camp and the villages, kill animals, kill humans, and devastate the economy of the whole region.”
A climate-vulnerable nation
About 90 percent of Mauritania is covered by the Sahara Desert. Climate change has accelerated desertification and increased the pressure on natural resources, especially water, experts say. The United Nations says tensions between locals and refugees over grazing areas is a key threat to peace.
Tayyar Sukru Cansizoglu, the UNHCR chief in Mauritania, said that with the effects of climate change, even Mauritanians in the area cannot find enough grazing land for their own cows and goats — so a “single bushfire” becomes life-threatening for everyone.
When the first refugees arrived in 2012, authorities cleared a large chunk of land for the Mbera camp, which today has more than 150,000 Malian refugees. Another 150,000 live in villages scattered across the vast territory, sometimes outnumbering the locals 10 to one.
Chejna Abdallah, the mayor of the border town of Fassala, said because of “high pressure on natural resources, especially access to water,” tensions are rising between the locals and the Malians.
Giving back
Abderrahmane Maiga, a 52-year-old member of the “Mbera Fire Brigade,” as the firefighters call themselves, presses soil around a young seedling and carefully pours water at its base.
To make up for the vegetation losses, the firefighters have started setting up tree and plant nurseries across the desert — including acacias. This year, they also planted the first lemon and mango trees.
“It’s only right that we stand up to help people,” Maiga said.
He recalls one of the worst fires he faced in 2014, which dozens of men — both refugees and host community members — spent 48 hours battling. By the time it was over, some of the volunteers had collapsed from exhaustion.
Ag Ahmedou said he was aware of the tensions, especially as violence in Mali intensifies and going back is not an option for most of the refugees.
He said this was the life he was born into — a life in the desert, a life of food scarcity and “degraded land” — and that there is nowhere else for him to go. Fighting for survival is the only option.
“We cannot go to Europe and abandon our home,” he said. “So we have to resist. We have to fight.”