February will mark five years since the first Trump administration signed the Doha Agreement, paving the way for the Taliban’s return to power under Biden in 2021. When Fatimah Hossaini fled to Kabul in the tumultuous days after a terrorist group took over the government, she left. behind not only his home but also his photos. The Tehran-born photographer had taught as part of the art faculty at Kabul University and was an award-winning figure in the country’s small but thriving art scene. Her work captures stark yet inspiring images of Afghan women in traditional clothing—expressing a spirit of resilience and femininity despite overwhelming societal challenges. This very job made him a victim.
The world was surprised when, after the withdrawal of American troops, the Taliban regained control of the country within days. For Afghan artists, photographers and filmmakers, the consequences were dire: freedom of expression was one of the first victims. Some fear that the complete ban on biological images between 1996 and 2001 will soon be reinstated.
After witnessing the horrors of the regime’s return, passing through Taliban checkpoints where civilians were beaten and arrested, Hossaini barely survived a flight to Paris—and never returned. He sometimes wonders what has come to his work.
“I couldn’t finish the last five pictures, so I just left them with the hope I had,” he told the Observer. “I had my photos printed in other embassies and institutions. I don’t know what the Taliban have done with them.”
Artists in Afghanistan have faced difficulties producing art even outside of previous Taliban control, but the return of the regime has made the risks even greater. Most are unable to work and are forced to navigate Taliban oppression, financial hardship and general public hostility. “Many feel completely useless and deprived of their purpose,” says Yama Rahimi, manager of the Artistic Freedom Initiative (AFI).
The state began to curb the official ban on the arts, but threats, intimidation and attempts to suppress the creative arts sent a clear message. The Ministry of Vice and Virtue imposed a strict interpretation of Sharia Law to close art institutions, criminalize artists and remove non-compliant art from society. Those artists who did not go were forced underground—many others stopped producing art altogether.
The Taliban unveiled a sweeping 114-page draft of its ‘virtuous and just’ laws in August 2024, continuing to consolidate the legacy of censorship. Among the provisions was Proposition 17, which prohibits the publication of images depicting living things—anything with a “soul.” Although it is heavily targeted by the media and unclear, the consequences of this decision, which is gradually being issued in all states, could be great. Critics suggest that the law is less about theology and more about control—one way to maintain an uneducated and dependent society.
For artists like Hossaini, the law comes as no surprise. “There were too many expectations from the Taliban,” he said. Since they took office in 2021, everyone knew what they were going to do. But the decision could allow repression to be legalized, with vague terms that instill more fear and harsher penalties left to the discretion of individual prosecutors. In other words, not a complete restoration of the direct ban of biological images, but close enough.
According to Sanjay Sethi, AFI’s associate director, such legalization may cause challenges for artists and organizations that want to support the founders of the nation. “There were a lot of actions, but they didn’t take the form of a declaration,” he said of the ruling before Section 17. “When this law came out, it was like they said the silent part out loud.”
It is unclear what long-term impact the ill-advised rules will have, and ironically, there are reports that Taliban officials are flouting the rules of conduct. “The Taliban appear on talk shows, take pictures, use YouTube channels and carry cameras when they roam the cities,” Rahimi said.
However, the situation continues to worsen for those at the bottom. Omaid Sharifi, founder and president of ArtLords, echoed similar sentiments: “Things are getting worse every day. This is exactly the way the Taliban were in 1996-2001, and it is getting worse. “
Since 2014, the ArtLords art collection has helped create more than 2,200 murals in twenty-four provinces in Afghanistan. The group’s dramatic, colorful work, often created on exploding gray concrete walls, includes political messages and artwork that encourages expression and conversation among local Afghans. “These paintings were created by the community and belong to the community,” explained Sharifi. When the Taliban returned, the walls were either repainted or destroyed—and like many other prominent activists, Sharifi was forced to flee. Yet despite his stay in exile, his global advocacy movement continues.
ArtLords employees and officials in Kabul were picked up and tortured, said Sharifi. “They deal with the Taliban visiting their studios every day, and the indignation of all that.”
Despite the Taliban’s efforts to extinguish cultural identity in Afghanistan, Afghan artists, both inside and outside the country, seem hopeful that art can survive even in the most repressive regimes. Others have found different ways to share their work and the support of the international community. In 2023, a project called Hidden Statement launches Afghanistan’s first contemporary art archive, allowing artists to preserve and share their work online. More than thirty-six exhibits have been publicly disclosed, and another 300 are planned.
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“There are still musicians who are building,” said Sethi. “Graffiti artists will come out at night to create work. And there are organizations that are interested in trying to promote the arts or continue them, even if they are private.”
AFI serves as an important lifeline for persecuted and censored artists around the world and continues to represent and support Afghan artists. As of 2022, it has provided legal or resettlement assistance to 1,554 Afghan artists and their family members, and continues to receive applications from artists in the country.
Despite ongoing challenges, the expression of art in Afghanistan may change. “We will never inspect the work, but we will go undercover; it will be very sacred,” explained Sharifi. “When there is oppression like this… when there is discrimination like this, artists and composers become creative and courageous. We will continue to draw. People are going to paint in their houses and basements, people are going to make films, they’re going to make pictures, they’re going to make shows and we’re going to find ways to get those shows out of Afghanistan and show the world what’s happening.”
Meanwhile, Hossaini found ways to show his pictures around the world. Although the online classes she had been conducting for students have ended, she is still deeply touched by the women in Afghanistan she still communicates with. “I think the next revolution, if it’s going to happen in Afghanistan, will be led by women,” she said, adding that she is inspired by women who continue to protest for their work.
Despite the Taliban’s efforts to erase cultural identity in Afghanistan, artists continue to play an important role in adding to the record—proving that culture cannot be controlled. Art continues to be smuggled out of Afghanistan as organizations do their best to keep the nation’s artistic representations alive under the strict regime. Sharifi explained that musicians, photographers, cultural workers and journalists are “doing everything to ensure that we record the brutality of the Taliban and protect the cultural heritage of Afghanistan.”
“The work must continue; it is a way to resist the Taliban,” he said. “Once they’re gone, we’re going to go back—and we’re not going to start from scratch. We will have something to take back to Afghanistan.”
