Red lines in Afghanistan and the issue of girls’ education

As our cars tried to weave their way through the chaotic traffic on Kabul’s streets, one thing stood out immediately: there were almost no traffic lights. Vehicles speeding head-on toward each other would somehow swerve at the last second, narrowly avoiding collisions, and then carry on as if nothing had happened. For anyone used to the order of traffic in Türkiye or Europe, this makes no sense. Yet within the chaos, there is a kind of order — and it works.

That’s when we learned something new. The Islamic Emirate, which has been in charge again for the past four years, has actually set traffic rules. But they’re rules without enforcement. In particular, there are no fines — because under Hanafi jurisprudence, monetary penalties aren’t considered permissible. So the Emirate doesn’t allow them. Of course, that makes little sense if you’re looking at it with a mind shaped by modern standards.

For people who are conditioned to assume everything comes down to pragmatism or corruption, it’s baffling. How can such a massive source of potential revenue simply be discarded for the sake of a point of Islamic law? Yet this is exactly the kind of situation that illustrates what we call “the politics of the impossible.”

When Wael Hallaq wrote his book The Impossible State: Why an Islamic State is Not Possible in the Modern Age, his argument was that a truly moral state is impossible in our time. The Taliban, however, seem intent on proving the opposite. According to Hallaq, the very nature of the modern state is immoral, and therefore Islam — which is bound to uphold morality at every level — cannot be represented within a modern state structure. If it is ever to exist, such a state must disregard modernity, international balances, and global priorities altogether. And the Taliban, quite clearly, do just that.

What struck us in every meeting with Taliban ministers was a common thread woven through their personalities, their style, their way of speaking, and their philosophy: profound humility toward believers and the public, but immense confidence and indifference toward their enemies. “The only measure that concerns us is God’s Sharia. That is our red line, never to be crossed.”

Contemporary political theory says the sovereign is the one who defines the exception. But none of the Taliban leadership are concerned with being sovereign. On the contrary, for them sovereignty belongs only to God, to His Sharia. To claim the right to create exceptions is not something even the Taliban — who have brought the world’s superpowers to their knees — would dare to assert. This sensitivity is precisely why they strive to understand and follow Sharia’s boundaries with such care.

Until two weeks ago, not a single country officially recognized the Taliban government — until Russia did last week. Yet they already have de facto diplomatic and trade relations with over a hundred states. While they expect more recognition now that Russia has taken the step, they remain firm: their stance, their faith, and their commitment to Sharia and Islamic morality are not up for negotiation. The main point of criticism, of course, is the education of girls — specifically their exclusion from high school and universities.

We had the chance to discuss this with Minister of Education Mawlawi Habibullah Agha during a dinner at a madrasa, rather than inside his ministry. The madrasa belonged to his nephew, a Taliban commander, and served hundreds of students in the simplest of conditions. The Minister arrived quietly, without protocol, joining dozens of guests on the rooftop terrace. After greeting everyone with humility, he began, unprompted, to explain the current state of education.

He told us that millions of students — boys and girls alike — receive basic education up to the 6th grade. From then on, girls can continue their Islamic studies up to grade 12, and millions are indeed enrolled in these programs. He added that preparations are underway to announce a new framework for higher education soon.

He emphasized that the old system, with its curriculum, had only produced “minds of occupation,” whereas now they are finalizing a new program built for a free Afghanistan. Then he opened the floor for questions.

I told him that above all, after fifty years of struggle against the world’s superpowers, the Afghan people had earned respect. But I also added a suggestion, offered as a small contribution to Afghanistan’s success. Students should not have to choose between “Islamic education” and “modern education.” In Türkiye, the Imam Hatip schools — while imperfect — combine modern sciences with Islamic studies in a way that integrates both under an Islamic framework. Otherwise, if girls are limited to Islamic education after the 6th grade, they may not be prepared to continue once universities open, which could cause serious hardship.

To my surprise, he listened with remarkable humility. His reply was even more striking:

“We are an Emirate run by ulema, by scholars who have dedicated their lives to knowledge. How could we possibly want ignorance for women, girls, or any part of society? How could we want to block their education? What we are doing is preparing. We are building a system where girls can continue their studies. We welcome the advice of our brothers from around the world, and we try to benefit from all of it. Your Imam Hatip model is very interesting — we had already heard of it. If you can provide us with its curriculum, we would be glad to study it and benefit from it.”

What I heard was both humbling and encouraging. To hear this directly from the most authoritative figure in Afghanistan on education — especially on the matter of girls’ education — challenged so many of the assumptions and images long associated with the Taliban. Right there, I contacted our own Education Minister, Yusuf Tekin, and obtained the Imam Hatip curriculum, which I then passed along.

Perhaps we are now closer to solving the very issue that has been used as an excuse to isolate Afghanistan from the world. But it’s crucial to note: the Islamic Emirate is not pursuing this because of Western pressure or expectations, but because of its own Islamic principles.