This February will mark the fifth anniversary of the Trump administration’s signing of the Doha Agreement, which paved the way for the Taliban to return to power in 2021 under Biden. When she fled Kabul in the chaotic post-government days, she left behind not only her home, but also her photography. The Tehran-born photographer previously taught at Kabul University’s art department and is an award-winning figure in the country’s small but thriving art scene. Her work captures candid and empowering portraits of Afghan women in traditional clothing—who exude resilience and femininity despite the social challenges they face beyond the frame. The same job also made her a target.
The Taliban surprised the world by regaining control of the country within days after U.S. troops withdrew. For Afghan artists, photographers and filmmakers, the impact has been devastating: freedom of expression is among the first casualties. Some fear that the outright ban on biological imaging from 1996 to 2001 could soon be reinstated.
Witnessing the horrors of the early days of the return to power, passing Taliban checkpoints and civilians being beaten and arrested, Husseini narrowly escaped on a flight to Paris and never returned. She sometimes wonders what the consequences of her work will be.
“I couldn’t finish the last five pictures, so I left them behind with my hopes,” she told the Observer. “I have my picture printed in some embassies and institutions. I don’t know what the Taliban did to them.
Artists in Afghanistan have faced difficulties creating art even outside of previous Taliban control, but the return of the Taliban regime has made the stakes even greater. Most are unable to work and are forced to cope with Taliban oppression, economic hardship and general social hostilities. “Many people feel completely useless and have lost their purpose,” said Yama Rahimi, program manager at the Arts Freedom Initiative (AFI).
The regime did not initially ban art formally, but threats, intimidation and efforts to suppress creative expression sent a clear message. The Ministry of Morality and Morality has adopted a strict interpretation of Sharia law to close art centers, criminalize artists and remove non-compliant art from public view. Those artists who didn’t leave were forced underground – and many more stopped making art altogether.
The Taliban published a 114-page “Vice and Virtue” legal outline in August 2024, further codifying the legacy of censorship. Article 17 prohibits the publication of images depicting living things (anything with a “soul”). While the ruling targets the media and is vague at best, it is being rolled out across provinces and its impact could be far-reaching. Critics argue that the law is less about religious doctrine and more about control—yet another way to maintain an uneducated and dependent society.
For an artist like Husseini, the law comes as no surprise. “The Taliban are looking forward to this,” she said. “Everyone has known what they were going to do since they took office in 2021.” But the ruling could further legitimize the crackdown, with vague wording that stokes more fear and harsh penalties left to the discretion of individual prosecutors. In other words, it’s not quite a complete restoration of the outright ban on biological imaging, but it’s close enough.
AFI co-executive director Sanjay Sethi said this formalization could create challenges for artists as well as organizations that want to support the nation’s creatives. “There was a lot of action, but not in the form of a statement,” he said of pre-Article 17 governance.
It is unclear what long-term impact the vice and virtue laws will have, and paradoxically there are reports that Taliban officials flout moral laws. “The Taliban appear on talk shows, take photos, run YouTube channels and even carry cameras while patrolling the city,” Rahimi said.
Despite this, the situation on the ground continues to deteriorate. Omaid Sharifi, co-founder and president of ArtLords, expressed a similar sentiment: “Things are getting worse every day. This is exactly what the Taliban was like between 1996 and 2001, and it got even worse.
Since 2014, art collective ArtLords has created more than 2,200 murals in 24 provinces of Afghanistan. The group’s eye-catching, colorful works, often created on gray concrete blast walls, feature political messages and artistic depictions that encourage local Afghan expression and dialogue. “These murals are created by the community and owned by the community,” Sharifi explained. When the Taliban returned, the walls were repainted or destroyed – and Sharifi, like most other prominent activists, was forced to flee. However, despite his exile, his organization continues its global propaganda.
Sharifi said ArtLords staff and officials in Kabul were arrested and tortured. “They faced Taliban visits to their studios every day and all the indignities.”
Despite the Taliban’s attempts to eliminate Afghanistan’s cultural identity, artists inside and outside Afghanistan appear to be hoping that art will outlast the most oppressive regimes. Some people have found different ways to share their work with support from the international community. In 2023, a project called Hidden Statement launched Afghanistan’s first digital contemporary art archive, allowing artists to preserve and share their work online. To date, more than 36 exhibitions have been held, with more than 300 planned.
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“There are still artists who are still creating,” Sisi said. “Graffiti artists will come out at night and create their work. There are organizations that are interested in trying to encourage art or continue to develop art, even if it’s done in secret.
AFI is a vital lifeline for persecuted and censored artists around the world and continues to advocate for and support Afghan artists. Since 2022, it has provided legal or resettlement assistance to 1,554 Afghan artists and their families, and continues to receive applications from artists in the country.
Despite ongoing challenges, artistic expression in Afghanistan is likely to continue to evolve. “We will never censor the work, but we will go underground; it will become more sacred,” Sharifi explains. “When there is such oppression…when there is such segregation, artists and creatives become more creative and braver. We will continue to paint. People will paint in their homes and basements, people will make movies, They’ll take pictures, they’ll put on exhibitions, and we’ll find ways to get these works out of Afghanistan and show the world what’s going on.
At the same time, Husseini found a way to showcase her photography around the world. Although the online classes she once held for students have ended, she remains deeply moved by the Afghan women she is still reaching. “I think if the next revolution is going to happen in Afghanistan, it will be led by women,” she said, adding that she was inspired by women who continue to protest through their work.
Despite the Taliban’s attempts to erase Afghanistan’s cultural identity, artists continue to play a vital role in adding to the record – proving that culture simply cannot be controlled. Art continues to be smuggled out of Afghanistan, and organizations do what they can to keep the country’s artistic expression strong amid the regime’s tightening grip. Sharifi explained that artists, photographers, cultural workers and journalists are “doing everything we can to ensure we document the Taliban’s atrocities and protect Afghanistan’s cultural heritage.”
“The work must continue; this is a form of resistance against the Taliban,” he said. “When they leave, we will go back – and we won’t start from scratch. We will have something to bring back to Afghanistan.
