Afghanistan’s digital dark age

Airports and banks were forced to shut down. Government employees idled aimlessly in the corridors of their ministries. Teenage girls, barred from attending school, lost much of their access to the outside world.

In shutting down the Internet and cellphone services across Afghanistan last month, the Taliban government turned the clock back decades, in a move reminiscent of their first time in power from 1996 to 2001. Connectivity came back after two days, but this week, the Afghan government blocked certain types of content on social media apps like Instagram and Facebook, signalling that it would only tolerate tightly controlled access to the internet.

Over the four years since they returned to power, the Taliban have gradually strengthened their grip on Afghan society, at times prohibiting content creators from posting on YouTube in one province, or forbidding television channels from broadcasting images of living beings in another. But the internet blackout and the suspension of cellphone services hit the entire country at the same time last month, leaving many Afghans worried that it could go on indefinitely, or happen again even after service was restored.

“We are always at home, so the Internet was our only way to tell other people that we are alive,” said Mahsa, 19, who was in the middle of a math lesson with a US-sponsored online education program when the blackout began. (The New York Times agreed to identify her by only her first name because she feared backlash by the government.)

Because the Taliban have banned
education for girls after sixth grade, online education has been the only avenue for female students like Mahsa to pursue their studies.

Afghan officials have not communicated publicly about the shutdown, and spokesmen from multiple government agencies have not responded to requests for comment. But officials outside the country and analysts have said the Internet shutdown was the result of an order by Afghanistan’s leader, Sheikh Haibatullah Akhundzada, who has sought to restrict Internet access to prevent “immoral acts.”

“The Internet shutdown is the most damaging decision the emir has made after closing schools for girls,” Asfandyar Mir, a senior fellow in the South Asia programme at the Stimson Centre in Washington, said about Akhundzada. “This time, it affected everyone and had immediate consequences, including for the economy.”

Why the Internet came back after two days remains unclear. But officials outside the country, analysts and one aide to an Afghan government official said in interviews that some Afghan officials had most likely recognised that the shutdown was unsustainable and had restored Internet access — with or without Akhundzada’s approval.

The Times was not able to independently verify the claim. If confirmed, the resistance from government officials would be the latest signal of a schism between Kabul-based ministers who are in favour of fewer social restrictions, including lifting those on women and girls, and the ultraconservative Akhundzada, who lives in Kandahar, in southern Afghanistan, away from the central government.

“Defiance of the Emir is anathema to Taliban ideology, which is based on allegiance to him,” said Graeme Smith, an author and analyst with two decades of experience in Afghanistan. “But this looks like a rare example of internal pushback against the leader.”

The Internet shutdown was not addressed at a gathering convened by Akhundzada in Kandahar with hundreds of provincial and district governors shortly after online access was restored, according to two participants. Signs of dissension within the group were not present either, though Akhundzada urged the attendees to show unity and respect their superiors, according to the two participants. They spoke on the condition of anonymity because they were not allowed to publicly discuss the meeting.

For countless Afghans, the Internet shutdown paralysed daily life. Although Internet access is patchy in some parts of Afghanistan, smartphone use has proliferated in recent years with the expansion of 4G networks and the widespread availability of cheap devices.

In Herat, a buzzing city in northwestern Afghanistan, the blackout nearly ruined Nazir Hussaini’s two travel businesses, he said. He could not exchange currency nor register visa applications for clients seeking to cross into Iran, about 70 miles away.

“It felt like we were thrown back 30 years, trapped in the dark and unable to breathe,” Hussaini said.

Muhammad, a police officer in Kabul, was on his way to the police station for a late shift when the Internet went off around 5 pm on September 29. When a crime is reported in the area where he serves, which is home to hundreds of thousands of people, Muhammad said that he and his colleagues would first share the news in an internal WhatsApp group. But as they could not communicate online for two days, and local elders who would usually call them to report a crime could not reach them, Muhammad said that he and his colleagues did not conduct any investigations.

The Internet shutdown further harmed the Afghan economy, already battered by multiple crises.

It cut off many Afghans from their relatives who send much-needed funds from abroad. It imperilled the work of UN agencies and humanitarian agencies that have provided relief to the victims of an earthquake that killed more than 2,200 people last month, and to many of the nearly three million Afghans who have returned to Afghanistan this year amid a wave of forced returns and deportations from neighbouring Pakistan and Iran.

Human rights defenders and Afghanistan observers have warned that restricted access to online media platforms would severely undermine women’s and girl’s mental health.

Mahsa, the high school student, echoed those concerns.

“With a shutdown or restricted access to Internet, you’re in a grey zone,” she said, “and if something happens to me, nobody will know.”