By Omad Sharifi
When a nation’s artists are in shackles, its people live in chains. When art is liberated, its people are set free. Since the world abandoned Afghanistan to the terror of the Taliban two years ago, local artists have been categorically persecuted. Tragically, with little international support once again, they have been left alone as the Taliban’s brutal oppression has relentlessly sought to eradicate every last vestige of creative expression.
The Taliban see art as dangerous, a challenge, a threat. And it is. It should be. And often must be. Art is the power of protest and resistance. It is the memory of what we as Afghans once were and the imagination of what we can become again. Art is the mirror that truly reflects the Taliban’s robes, cut from a narrow minded, misogynistic and violent theocracy, as nothing but the emperor’s new clothes — contrived, empty and naked. Art keeps the possibility of Afghanistan’s future alive. It keeps hope alive.
Without alternative and opposing narratives, the implications are immense: a terrorist group is brainwashing millions of young Afghans right now with no counter to their violent ideology. While women have been outright banned from schools, men are simply being trained as religious students that the Taliban can use as suicide attackers or as an army that blindly carries out its will. This poses a dangerous threat, not just to the region, but to the whole world. We saw it on 9/11 and we will see it again.
Seven years ago, I co-founded ArtLords in Kabul as an artists’ collective to create murals about social issues with the collaboration of local communities. People were so demoralized and disenchanted after the years of war and violence that they’d even given up seeking solutions. We showed them that they have a voice and encouraged them to ask questions and be critical.
The result was like lighting a candle in the dark. Finding a new and powerful voice they quickly gained courage and embraced art as catharsis, and an avenue for protest. It clearly showed that as soon as an oppressed people have the opportunity to engage with their culture and create change to break the cycle of violence and cultural poverty, they take it.
Together, despite our fears, we exposed government corruption and painted murals outside the houses of the very warlords responsible for the deaths of innocent people. We promoted peace, gender equality and human rights. Blast-proof walls had been built all over Kabul to protect those deemed worthy from explosions. Painting 2,200 murals, we transformed their ugly aesthetics and elitist entitlement into a common canvas of both beauty and resistance. That was a time of renaissance.
Sadly, that time has all but vanished. Artistic expression in Afghanistan is now criminalized and the Taliban punishes our artists and is erasing our art and dismantling our cultural heritage. Women and girls have been banned from pursuing education or careers in the arts. Cultural sites have been destroyed. Museums, galleries and institutions supporting the arts are being closed down. Artists themselves risk public humiliation, arrest, arbitrary detention and extrajudicial killings.
The Taliban have killed guests at a wedding where music was playing, doled out lashings, tortured and arrested musicians. Comedian Nazar Mohammad was filmed being dragged by Taliban officials and was later found dead, tied to a tree. Two prominent Afghan writers and members of PEN Afghanistan were murdered by Taliban officials. Renowned poet and historian, Abdul Atefi, was tortured and murdered in his home by Taliban officials.
Many artists have fled the country. Those who haven’t are now in hiding, forced to destroy or hide their artworks and tools for fear of being discovered. They try to survive, frequently under the harshest of conditions, unable to practice their craft and earn a living, and constantly in fear of the Taliban.
The Taliban are terrified of what art can accomplish. Art sparks critical thinking, unifies people and empowers them to stand up for what’s right. When people are no longer able to express or engage with art, they become more distant from their culture, disconnected from each other and from their own sense of humanity. When that happens, they will succumb more easily and more absolutely to oppressive doctrines and radicalization. The Taliban know this. That is why they are trying to scorch our culture from the earth. And that is exactly why they must be stopped. That is why art in Afghanistan must survive.
Unlike our brothers and sisters in hiding, Afghan artists outside of the country are fortunate enough to still have a voice and be able to continue the struggle on behalf of those who no longer can. This is what drives and inspires us. Keeping the candle of creative hope burning as a light in the darkness for all of the artists and people suffering under the yoke of Taliban oppression.
But that light is growing dim. Afghan artists in other places are struggling to continue practicing their craft due to a lack of support and resources. Institutions in the U.S. have been deafeningly silent, failing to step-up despite their government’s complicity in the destabilization of Afghanistan after its precipitous withdrawal from the country in 2021.
Given the hostile environment for creatives at home and the lack of institutional support for the artists abroad, the rich artistic tradition of Afghanistan that stretches back millennia and is fundamental to Afghan cultural identity is facing obliteration. If arts organizations and galleries would support them, and offer sponsored work opportunities and fellowships to artists at risk under the Taliban, we could preserve and strengthen our arts as a whole and feed back into the country. This would fuel hope and light the way for a better future for us all. Please, for the sake of Afghanistan and the world, don’t let this flame of hope die out.
Omaid Sharifi is the co-founder and president of ArtLords and Senior Manager for Protections Programmes for the Artists at Risk Connection at PEN America. Sharifi contributed to the new report, Artistic Exodus: Afghan Artists Fleeing Taliban Ruleproduced by AFI in partnership with UC Berkeley Law Pro Bono Program.
Read at The Hill
By: Lisa Curtis and Hadeia Amiry
A human rights calamity is unfolding in Afghanistan. Since retaking power in mid-2021, the Taliban have implemented more extreme policies against women than any other regime in the world. Taliban leaders have issued over 90 edicts limiting women’s rights: they have banned women and girls from attending university or school beyond the sixth grade, restricted their access to health care, prohibited them from leaving home without a male guardian, and revoked many of their social and legal protections. Every new restriction on Afghan women strengthens the Taliban’s dictatorial grip on the entire Afghan population and feeds extremism in a society already occupied by dozens of terrorist groups. Although the Taliban are fighting the terrorist group known as Islamic State Khorasan (ISIS-K), they allow some 20 other terrorist groups to operate freely in Afghan territory.
Yet even though Afghanistan is the only country in the world that prohibits women’s education, some analysts are urging the United States to normalize ties with the Taliban, including by reopening a U.S. embassy in the country. These proponents argue that by doing so, Washington would improve its ability to monitor assistance programs and engage with Taliban leaders in the country, including to press them to moderate their policies. But taking steps to normalize relations with the Taliban before their leaders halt their systematic persecution of women would be a gross betrayal of the millions of women and girls whose lives the United States helped to transform over two decades. During the Taliban’s previous stint in power, from 1996 to 2001, they closed schools to girls, forbade women to work, and targeted women with extreme forms of punishment, including public floggings and executions.
From 2002 to 2021, however, during the U.S.-led NATO mission to stabilize Afghanistan, Afghan women served as cabinet ministers, ambassadors, parliamentarians, diplomats, and journalists, reflecting historic levels of involvement in society. It is fair to say that empowering women represents the best work the United States did in Afghanistan and its most positive legacy. In early 2021, months before the U.S. military withdrawal and the Taliban’s takeover, 2.5 million Afghan girls were attending primary school, and 27 percent of the seats in the Afghan parliament were held by women.
By Meta Mehran
Ever since the Taliban retook control of Afghanistan in 2021 with promises that — this time — they would be more moderate, they have played a deceitful game.
The Taliban government has introduced one decree after another, incrementally stripping away the rights of women and girls to education, employment, justice, freedom of speech and movement, and it has progressively criminalized their existence outside the home. Taliban leaders reached a new low last month when they published rules that, among other restrictions, make it illegal for a woman’s voice to be heard by male strangers in public.
Each new tightening of the screw has sparked international condemnation — but no real consequences for the Taliban. The mullahs merely wait for the outrage to subside before further entrenching their misogynist rule, undeterred by criticism, the threat of repercussions for violating international laws or even the risk of losing badly needed humanitarian aid.
But a potential new international treaty covering the prevention and punishment of crimes against humanity may finally provide the world with more legal and diplomatic leverage — and a new way to hold the Taliban to account for the repression they have unleashed upon millions of women in Afghanistan. This is an opportunity that cannot be wasted.
In October, a U.N. General Assembly legal committee will meet to decide whether the treaty should move forward to the stage of formal negotiations. The effort to create a better tool for prosecuting crimes against humanity has gained momentum because of growing alarm over conflicts in places such as Myanmar, Ukraine and Gaza, and the treaty includes a proposal to criminalize “gender apartheid.”
Fueled by the Taliban’s actions, the notion of making persons and states that enforce gender apartheid liable for criminal prosecution has gained global traction. Last October, I joined nearly 100 prominent organizations, jurists and individuals, including the Nobel laureate Malala Yousafzai, Hillary Clinton and Gloria Steinem, in signing a legal brief that defines gender apartheid as the institutionalized, systematic subjugation of one gender. The brief urges U.N. member states to codify it as a crime against humanity in the proposed treaty. Many countries have indicated support for the proposal.
There is no better way to describe what Afghanistan’s women face than gender apartheid. Over the past three years, the Taliban have issued dozens of edicts curtailing or eliminating the basic rights of women and girls, while abolishing laws and agencies that were dedicated to protecting those rights. The former Ministry of Women’s Affairs, for example, was disbanded by the Taliban and its building handed over to a reinstated Ministry for the Propagation of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice, which enforces the current government’s hard-line interpretation of Shariah law.
Today, even when a woman is accompanied outdoors by a male relative as required by law, judgments on the legality of her dress, behavior — and now even her voice — are at the total discretion of the Taliban’s ever-present morality enforcers. If one of them deems that a violation has occurred, a woman can be taken into custody, where many have reportedly been subjected to torture and rape. Afghanistan’s women now suffer from one of the world’s highest rates of gender-based violence, according to the United Nations. Women who complain about such violence have been sent to prison.
Women are now effectively confined at home and to the only roles deemed by the mullahs to be appropriate for them: caregiving and childbearing. Since men can be punished by the Taliban if their female family members break the rules, women are, in practice, under the strict control of their own male relatives. All of this is counterproductive for the nation: By banning women from working outside the home, including as aid workers, the Taliban are harming the country’s economy and compounding its severe humanitarian crisis.
The codification of gender apartheid in international law will of course not automatically eliminate the crime, and bringing perpetrators to account will not be easy. But it’s an important first step toward providing victims and the global community with legal pathways to hold violators responsible and to deter other governments from committing the same crimes.
Beyond the legal aspect, international recognition of gender apartheid as a crime against humanity would have great moral power. The global condemnation of South Africa’s former apartheid regime galvanized political, legal and social resistance efforts that ultimately contributed to that system’s demise and later resulted in racial apartheid being classified as a crime against humanity by the International Criminal Court.
There is still much work to be done. If the U.N. committee agrees to move the treaty to the next phase, a range of legal and other issues will have to be worked out, including the potential inclusion of gender apartheid as a crime, and the treaty would need to be ratified internationally.
Several countries already have expressed in previous committee meetings their openness to codifying gender apartheid as a crime against humanity. For this to become a legal reality, many more nations will need to step up and join in solidarity with the women of Afghanistan, particularly those countries that claim to be leaders on women’s rights or have female heads of state.