Muttaqi’s trips under Akhundzada’s shadow may crack Taliban’s pariah status – no Muslim nation recognizes them – yet without accountability, they legitimise his unseen, stifling rule.

In a rare glimpse into the opaque machinery of Taliban governance, Foreign Minister Amir Khan Muttaqi has received “special directives” from the group’s reclusive supreme leader, Hibatullah Akhundzada, just ahead of planned diplomatic visits to India and Russia. The clandestine meeting in Kandahar on Friday afternoon underscores Akhundzada’s iron grip on the Islamic Emirate’s foreign policy, even as the regime seeks to thaw its frozen international relations amid deepening isolation and humanitarian crises.

Muttaqi, a key architect of the Taliban’s post-2021 takeover diplomacy, travelled to the southern province of Kandahar on Friday for the audience with Akhundzada, who has ruled from there since the group’s return to power. Details of the discussions remain shrouded in secrecy, but sources close to the Taliban indicate the directives focused on navigating sensitive bilateral ties during the upcoming trips. Akhundzada, believed to be in his 70s and holed up in an undisclosed compound, wields unchecked authority over all major decisions, from ministerial appointments to land sales in Kabul. His edicts carry the weight of divine law, enforced without a constitution or institutional checks.

The India visit, slated for October 9 to 16 in New Delhi, marks a potential milestone: Muttaqi’s first trip there since the Taliban’s 2021 resurgence. The United Nations Security Council, under Resolution 1988, granted him a temporary travel waiver, citing the need for “meaningful engagement” on regional issues. India, a former bulwark of the ousted Afghan republic, has tread cautiously, balancing humanitarian aid with concerns over cross-border militancy and its rivalry with Pakistan, the Taliban’s longtime patron. Analysts suggest New Delhi’s overture reflects pragmatic security calculations, including countering Beijing’s growing sway in Kabul.

An Enigma

A parallel invitation from Russia for the “Moscow Format” talks – envisioned for early or mid-October – adds another layer. The Taliban Foreign Ministry touted the summons as a nod to Afghanistan’s stabilising role in Central Asia, though UN exemptions for this leg remain pending. These engagements come after a string of aborted trips to Pakistan, scuttled by Akhundzada’s vetoes or logistical snags, highlighting the leader’s micromanagement of even routine diplomacy.

For Afghans, Akhundzada remains an enigma – a “ghost” in the words of one anonymous Kabul University lecturer, who spoke on condition of anonymity due to security fears. His image – a grainy 1990 passport photo showing a man with a long black beard and white turban, circulates unverified in media circles. No videos or public appearances exist; his existence is affirmed only by a cadre of loyal clerics and officials. Akhundzada ascended in 2016 via bay’ah – a traditional Islamic pledge of allegiance – from an all-male council of ulema, following the US drone strike that felled his predecessor, Akhtar Mohammad Mansour. This ritual, once a consultative process requiring communal approval, now serves as a veneer for autocracy.

Land Deals

Taliban Mines Minister Shahabudin Dilawar extols Akhundzada as “fearful of Allah,” a master of hadiths and Quranic interpretation, and a jurist whose piety is unassailable. Yet critics decry his regime’s legitimacy. “He decides everything,” the lecturer added, from judges to district chiefs, including a recent decree halting public land transactions without his personal nod – a move that gutted Kabul’s bureaucracy overnight. Women’s rights, frozen since secondary schools shuttered for girls in 2021, hinge solely on his whim, as do prospects for female employment. The decree in haircuts and shaving are also his alone.

This godlike centrality mirrors authoritarian playbooks worldwide, from Pyongyang to Riyadh, but Akhundzada’s seclusion amplifies the mystique. With two rumoured wives and 11 children – one son a suicide bomber in the Taliban’s insurgency – Akhundzada enforces a theocracy that has dissolved parliaments, human rights commissions, and electoral bodies.

Fostering Existential Threats

Afghanistan’s plunge into poverty is stark: over half of its 38 million people require aid, per UN estimates, and a 2022 Gallup poll found near-universal despair. Taliban boasts of “peace and security” ring hollow against their insurgency’s legacy of thousands of bombings and assassinations from 2002 to 2021.

Human rights advocates warn that superficial diplomacy risks emboldening the regime. “Superficial engagement risks granting the Taliban undeserved legitimacy,” said Afghan rights activist Seema Noori. “When international pressure drops, Taliban leaders feel less accountable for their actions toward women, minorities, and civil freedoms.

Taliban Foreign Minister Muttaqi, defending the absence of elections, quipped to the BBC: “Not every country holds elections, and Afghanistan is just one among them.” Yet Islamic jurist Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf counters that modern bay’ah equates to democratic consent, demanding justice and piety from rulers – qualities Akhundzada’s bans on media, dissent, and women’s education sorely lack.

Experts like Peter Harms, a University of Alabama management professor, attribute such opacity to survival tactics. He says that it is important for the Taliban to keep their own people ignorant of better lives elsewhere, while fostering existential threats to justify control. Freedom House analyst Cathryn Grothe notes authoritarian regimes’ savvy in “co-opting norms meant to support basic rights,” a trend ensnaring 39 per cent of the global population in curtailed freedoms.

As Muttaqi jets off, Akhundzada’s shadow endures. These trips could signal cracks in the Taliban’s pariah status – no Muslim-majority nation recognizes the regime outright – but without accountability, they risk legitimizing a leader whose unseen hand stifles a nation. For now, Kandahar’s emir rules as if ordained, his directives a reminder that in the Islamic Emirate, power is absolute, and visibility optional.