By: Waheed Payman | Journalist
The Taliban has unveiled its so-called National Development Plan. But in a country where women are banned from education and employment, where key institutions lack qualified professionals, and where even public offices are dominated by graduates of religious schools, the practicality of such a plan is highly questionable. In this analysis, Waheed Payman explores these concerns.
Taliban spokesman Zabihullah Mujahid announced today, Tuesday, August 26, that the “National Development Plan” has been drafted by their administration. According to Mujahid, the plan spans five years, structured around three pillars and several national programs, aiming to unify governance, security, economic growth, and public services under a single framework, coordinated by a central body.
But can a regime that lacks international recognition, sustainable financial resources, political legitimacy, and human capacity turn this document into actionable policy? In a country where women are excluded from education and work, and where provincial health directors possess nothing beyond religious training, how realistic is the notion of “national development”?
Execution Gap Compared to the Republic’s Development Strategy
Afghanistan has seen many such strategies before—especially during the Republic—glossy plans filled with ambitious goals that made headlines but often collapsed midway, abandoned even before the Republic itself fell.
Based on the initial outline presented today, the Taliban’s plan rests on three main pillars: Governance and Foreign Policy, Security and Order, and Economy with Social Development.
At first glance, the goal seems to be pulling fragmented government agencies together and operating under a unified framework. However, the practical differences between this plan and previous strategies are stark.
The Taliban remains unrecognized internationally, largely cut off from the global banking system, and through its policies, it has pushed half the population—women—out of higher education and the labor market. These realities make any resemblance to past strategies purely superficial.
Foreign Relations, Economy, and Good Governance—Under Isolation
The Taliban lists international relations as part of its development goals, but how feasible is that when its rule is officially unacknowledged, most nations avoid engagement, and its isolation deepens daily? Without recognition, how can Afghanistan expect major agreements, long-term investments, or regional partnerships, particularly given its heavy dependence on foreign investment?
Then there’s the banking sector, which has been semi-paralyzed since the Taliban’s takeover. Many banks struggle to function, making it nearly impossible to implement any program requiring transparent cash flow. This undermines the foundation of any large-scale initiative from the very start.
A government that even relies on imports for basic construction materials—and lacks steady external funding—will inevitably face delays, downsized projects, or costly short-term contracts.
Talking about “good governance” only makes sense where institutions are accountable to citizens and the press operates without fear. Neither is true under the Taliban.
Development Without Experts
Development anywhere is driven by specialists—people who can draft proposals, negotiate contracts, manage projects, and assess quality. Afghanistan under Taliban rule needs such expertise more than ever. Yet, over the past four years, either professionals have fled the country or the Taliban has systematically sidelined them.
Today, those heading crucial sectors like public health, rural development, industries, mines, finance, and taxation often have backgrounds limited to religious studies, with little understanding of the domains they manage. How can real progress occur when, for example, a provincial health chief does not know the name of basic medicines?
This problem is compounded by the ban on girls’ education, which is not just a social issue but an economic one. Closing schools today means tomorrow there will be no female teachers, doctors, nurses, or managers. Development without women—without female doctors, educators, managers, and employees—cannot be sustainable.
For the Taliban’s National Development Plan to move beyond a paper exercise, several critical bottlenecks must be addressed simultaneously. Schools and universities must reopen for all; without a new generation of educated citizens—both men and women—the phrase “human resources” remains meaningless.
If the plan remains a mere declaration and Taliban policies stay unchanged, we will see a familiar cycle: a few flashy launches, high-profile openings, followed by slow decay into irrelevance. Even if partial reforms occur but women remain excluded, any progress will be fragile, unjust, and short-lived.
Real hope requires unlocking multiple gates at once—re-engaging with the international community, respecting women’s rights, ensuring transparency, and empowering professionals who can drive governance with knowledge and experience. Only then can such a strategy evolve from slogans to measurable results, from paper to real life.
Afghanistan International
