Former Afghan politician and women’s rights advocate Fawzia Koofi says the Taliban’s most recent efforts to erase women from public life are even harsher than the strictures the militant movement introduced when it first held power in the 1990s.
The latest decree, issued last month by Mohammad Khalid Hanafi, the de facto government’s minister of vice and virtue, proclaims that women are barred from hearing each other’s voices.
In Kandahar a few days ago, Mr. Hanafi explained that a woman’s voice – speaking, reciting or singing, even in private rooms – is awrah, something that must be covered, and is thus prohibited. “He elaborated on the law they laid out in August which makes life, in particular the mental status of women, very bad,” Ms. Koofi told The Globe and Mail. She asked that her location not be disclosed because of the Taliban’s threats against her.
“How do you live in a way that is constantly controlling? How do you live with the fear of what will happen to you – and your family – if you don’t adhere to those laws?”
The ban also prevents women from speaking at checkpoints, further limiting their ability to travel, as well as curtailing female health workers’ ability to care for patients.
The edict is an extension of a declaration that bans women from speaking aloud in public.
“They haven’t specified if women can speak in private or not. What they have said is women cannot speak loudly enough that other women can hear. If they are in a group of five, 10 or 20, such as in a mosque, they cannot pray. They also cannot sing or recite poetry at a wedding.”
Despite the declaration, women are finding ways to speak up. “They post themselves singing songs, chanting against the Taliban and still getting together. They also send these videos to mainstream media.”
Because they aren’t allowed to be out and about in public, women are continuing their dissent in the privacy of their homes. “They defy the Taliban in closed areas, including burning the leader’s photo as a sign of resistance,” Ms. Koofi said. “They know the Taliban cannot chase them down this way.”
She said the more hard-line the authorities become, the more women in the country are being compelled to dissent. “When I talk to the women, they tell me they don’t have anything to lose. They say they have already lost everything.”
Before the Taliban’s return to power, Ms. Koofi was a member of parliament and vice-president of the national assembly. She promoted girls’ education and focused on alleviating poverty. After the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan in August 2021, which marked the end of a 20-year war, she was part of the initial peace negotiations.
She said the difference between the Taliban’s edicts now, as opposed to 30 years ago, is that Afghan women today know what it’s like to live in a more liberal society – as they did from 2001 to 2021. “Women didn’t resist back then because they didn’t know any different.”
When the Taliban first came to power in 1996, Ms. Koofi said, there wasn’t a formal edict prohibiting women’s voices in the public sphere.
There was also no social media.
Since August, Afghan women inside the country have been posting videos of themselves singing revolutionary songs denouncing the strict laws of the Taliban. “Women are singing and putting their voices out,” Ms. Koofi said. “Some of these women were very careful not to defy the Taliban before. This is their means of resistance.”
Many on social media have asked why Afghan men aren’t using their voices to help women. “I have asked that question myself,” Ms. Koofi said. “There are women who are living in circumstances where the male family members want them to follow the rules because the Taliban will punish them – the male family members. They will be imprisoned, tortured or they’ll simply disappear. This means they’re killed without any accountability. The situation is dire all around.”
Afghans are also afraid to speak out because they don’t feel supported by the international community. Ms. Koofi points to a United Nations meeting in Doha this past summer to discuss the Afghan economy and women’s rights. “The Taliban said they would only attend if women weren’t part of the main discussions.” The UN gave them what they wanted.
More than three years after the U.S. withdrawal, Afghan women – particularly the last of the country’s female politicians – are still desperately trying to get out.
“Canada has played an important role in resettling women, not only parliamentarians, but also activists and journalists who have contributed to Afghan society in the past two decades,” Ms. Koofi said.
She herself was placed under house arrest in the aftermath of the U.S. withdrawal. “They came to my house. I didn’t want to leave Afghanistan, but they wouldn’t let me leave either. After some negotiations, Ms. Koofi was permitted to leave because her daughters were outside the country.
Many women left in the region – some of whom Ms. Koofi considers colleagues, including former MPs and women on the human rights committee she chaired – have asked her what they should do. “As much as the Canadian government has opened its doors, we need them to do more to help these women leave Afghanistan,” she said.
She worries that Afghan women aren’t a priority, even as the Taliban mandate more extreme measures. “Hoping that the Taliban will change is naive. But we don’t want the world to make policies for us – we will do that. We will mobilize people and create our own narrative. We just need the international community to support and strategize with us. Our political agency should be recognized.”