In a move that has shocked precisely no one outside the Foreign Office, the Taliban have once again demonstrated their commitment to 'peaceful dialogue' by shooting two women dead during a protest in Kabul. The demonstration, which demanded the right to work and education, was apparently interpreted by the regime as a hostile takeover bid requiring ‘immediate stabilisation measures’ – i.e., live ammunition and a complete disregard for human life.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. ‘Biff, surely this is a tragedy of immense proportions, a crime against humanity that demands the full weight of international condemnation.’ And you’d be right. But let’s not pretend that the UK’s response – a sternly worded statement from the Foreign Office expressing ‘deep concern’ – is anything more than a diplomatic wet lettuce. It’s the political equivalent of tutting at a neighbour’s dog while it mauls your postman.
The protest itself was a brazen act of defiance: women marching, chanting, demanding the right to exist as more than shadows. The Taliban, naturally, responded with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Witnesses report that the ‘security forces’ – a term I use with the same irony I reserve for ‘budget airline cuisine’ – opened fire without warning. The result: two dead, a handful wounded, and a global community once again faced with its own impotence.
And yet, the circus continues. The UN will hold a meeting. Someone will use the phrase ‘unacceptable’. A junior minister will tweet a flag emoji. But the guns will still be in the hands of men who believe that educating a woman is a greater sin than murder. I’d say I’m outraged, but outrage requires a baseline of surprise. At this point, I’m about as shocked as a gin distillery discovering a shortage of juniper berries.
Let’s be clear: the Taliban’s crackdown is not a deviation from their ideology; it is its logical conclusion. They run a government that is less a governing body and more a celestial punishment for the sins of imperialism. And while we in the West sanctimoniously wag our fingers, we continue to fund them – indirectly, through aid packages and diplomatic recognition that are about as effective as throwing biscuits at a famine.
The tragedy in Kabul is a mirror held up to our collective cowardice. We condemn, but we do not act. We mourn, but we do not change. The women who died today will join a long list of martyrs to the cause of freedom, their names forgotten by all but their families. Meanwhile, the Foreign Office will issue another statement, and the news cycle will move on, because nothing is more readily consumed and forgotten than the suffering of those far away.
So raise a glass, if you can stomach it. To the two women who dared to dream of a better world. And to a global community that has perfected the art of doing precisely nothing. Cheers.
