RASC News Agency: When the last U.S. soldier left Afghanistan in 2021, many Western media outlets framed the moment as “the end of a long war.” Headlines spoke of withdrawal, closure, and moving on. Afghanistan gradually slipped from the top of the global news agenda.
That narrative, however, never reflected the lived reality of Afghanistanis.
For the people of Afghanistan, the war did not end it merely changed form. As the world looked away, the Taliban quietly consolidated power and began constructing an authoritarian legal order that no longer recognizes citizens as rights-bearing individuals, but as subjects to be monitored, disciplined, and controlled.
On January 4, 2026, the Taliban approved a new Criminal Procedure Code, consisting of 119 articles across 10 chapters and three sections, and discreetly circulated it to provincial courts. There was no public announcement, no national debate, and no transparent process. This secrecy follows a familiar authoritarian pattern: laws are rewritten in darkness, while obedience is demanded without question.
According to The Diplomat, the document was leaked through human rights organizations and journalists operating under severe Taliban restrictions. This code is not merely a legal text; it is a roadmap for repression, designed to silence dissent, institutionalize social control, and provide legal cover for state violence.
At first glance, the law may resemble a conventional judicial framework. In reality, its purpose is not to protect citizens, but to discipline them. That distinction lies at the core of the Taliban’s concept of “governance.”
The new code eliminates many of the most basic legal safeguards, including the right to legal counsel, the right to remain silent, and the principles of a fair trial. Instead, confession and testimony are elevated as the primary means of establishing guilt without any mechanisms to prevent coerced confessions or testimony extracted under pressure.
In a country where intelligence and security institutions have repeatedly been accused of torture and abuse, these omissions are not theoretical. On the contrary, the law effectively legalizes coercion, turning forced confessions into a judicial norm.
A member of the human rights organization Rawadari told media outlets:
“This law is not about justice. It is about creating a system in which the state can punish anyone, at any time, without explanation.”
The language of the code is deliberately vague and elastic, granting judges and Taliban officials sweeping discretionary powers. Many so-called “crimes” are undefined, while concepts such as sin, corruption, and immorality can be applied to almost any behavior. In practice, this legal ambiguity allows the Taliban to silence critics at will.
The code formally divides Afghanistan’s society into unequal categories: religious scholars, elites, the middle class, and the lower class. Legal treatment varies according to social status. This approach obliterates the principle of equality before the law, paving the way for harsher punishments for the poor while shielding those close to power.
As one human rights activist put it:
“This is not merely discrimination. It is a legal strategy to control society through division and inequality.”
Among the most alarming provisions are those related to slavery and religious discrimination. The repeated use of the term “slave” and the legal distinction between “free” and “enslaved” individuals amounts to a de facto acceptance of slavery within Afghanistan’s legal system a move that flagrantly violates all international human rights norms and creates yet another tool for domination over vulnerable groups.
Religiously, the law designates followers of the Hanafi school as the only “true Muslims,” while labeling other beliefs as deviant or apostate. Departing from the Hanafi doctrine is criminalized and punishable. This framework systematically represses religious minorities and dissenters, rendering freedom of belief and expression virtually impossible.
The new code grants sweeping and lethal authority to the Taliban’s supreme leader. Certain articles empower the “Imam” to approve death sentences for individuals deemed corrupt or apostate. Another provision authorizes the execution of “rebels,” claiming that killing them is necessary to protect the public interest.
These clauses effectively legalize political killings and eliminate any possibility of independent oversight or fair judicial review. Moreover, failing to report “suspicious gatherings” is criminalized, transforming society into a network of fearful informants and erasing any meaningful concept of privacy.
A Kabul-based lawyer explains:
“Under this law, the neighbor becomes a spy. Social trust collapses. This is Taliban governance in its purest form rule through fear and betrayal.”
The consequences for women and children are particularly devastating. The law prohibits only violence that causes severe physical injury, leaving other forms of physical, psychological, and sexual abuse effectively permissible. Fathers are allowed to punish children over the age of ten for missing prayers a provision that legitimizes child abuse.
Women may be punished for leaving their homes without their husband’s permission. Dancing even watching it is criminalized without any clear definition, opening the door to arbitrary arrests and cultural repression. The destruction of so-called “sites of corruption” is permitted, without clarification, enabling the closure of salons, barber shops, and public spaces.
Afghanistani women stress that this is not governance it is a deliberate campaign to dismantle civil society.
Human rights organizations, including Rawadari, warn that the law constitutes a blatant violation of international human rights standards and fair trial principles. Its enforcement without independent oversight will inevitably lead to arbitrary arrests, unlawful punishments, and even harsher restrictions on fundamental freedoms.
Richard Bennett, the UN Special Rapporteur on human rights in Afghanistan, has described the law’s implications as “deeply alarming.” While noting that the code is still under review from both human rights and Islamic legal perspectives, he stressed that its dangers are already evident.
Yet international media coverage remains limited and fragmented. Afghanistan is increasingly framed solely as a humanitarian crisis, rather than a rapidly unfolding political and legal catastrophe.
Global attention has shifted to Ukraine, Gaza, and the Indo-Pacific. With no foreign troops on the ground and no immediate strategic interests, Afghanistan has slipped down the priority list. This indifference carries a heavy price.
For Afghanistanis, the war is not over. The country is not “normalizing.” It is moving toward a society governed through fear, legalized inequality, and institutionalized violence.
This investigation is a clear warning:
Ignoring Afghanistan means tolerating the expansion of a system of systematic repression. Global silence is no longer neutral it has become part of the problem.
