Taliban's long arm

On social media, influencers make plenty of propaganda for the Taliban. With misinformation and lies, they try to convince the Afghan diaspora and a European audience that the Taliban have things just fine.

For someone who describes himself on social media as an ‘Ambassador for Peace’, Afghan ‘influencer’ Jamil Qadery, who has lived in Belgium since 2010, holds few peace-loving views. In June 2023, he posts a video on his TikTok and YouTube accounts with an ominous message. Adorned with a dark blue lunghi, a turban commonly worn by traditional Afghan Pashtu men, the young Afghan looks intrusively into the camera. In a loud tone, reinforcing his words with a pronged finger, he threatens that he will kill himself ‘will blow up’. To do so, he uses the Arabic word istishhadi, ‘those who seek martyrdom’, a term used for suicide bombers.

The video, which he deletes after a short time, is Qadery's most extreme expression on social media to that point. Although he did not previously threaten violence, the threat fits a pattern of radical and aggressive statements. Qadery is a staunch and fanatical supporter of the Taliban. He regularly expresses his support for the extremely conservative group that has returned to rule in Afghanistan since 15 August 2021. The love is mutual: members of the Taliban regime willingly allow themselves to be interviewed by Qadery. And in November 2023, when senior Taliban official Abdul Bari Omar visited Germany and the Netherlands (where he was at a meeting of the World Health Organisation in the photo with a clueless health minister Ernst Kuipers), Qadery does not budge.
Opponents of the Taliban, including fugitive activists and Afghans who behave ‘un-Islamic’ in Qadery's eyes, are fiercely criticised by him. Negative news about the Taliban is downplayed or denied by Qadery. Rather, he emphasises how safe it is in Afghanistan under the new rulers and how energetically the Taliban are rebuilding the country. Not a word about the oppression of women, the persecution of dissenters, the torture, killings and hunting of political opponents and people who worked for the ousted government.

A white flag

Qadery is not the only European ‘Taliban influencer’ on the internet. There are dozens of accounts on social media of people, almost exclusively men, who do not hide their admiration for the Taliban. Often Afghans who came to Europe as refugees, in the 1990s or sometimes much more recently. Much content is in Dari or Pashtu, the most widely spoken languages in Afghanistan, although there are also influencers who publish in European languages.

The Taliban flag - white with on it in black calligraphy the shahada, the Islamic creed that also appears on the flag of Saudi Arabia - cannot be chosen as an emoji on TikTok and other social media. Therefore, many pro-Taliban influencers carry an emoji of a white flag next to their account name. Insiders then know enough. Incidentally, the influencers prefer not to talk about ‘Afghanistan’, but rather about the ‘Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan’. When referring to Taliban leaders, they use the Islamic titles of honour the zealots have bestowed on themselves.
The most active influencers regularly pull together online. They share and like each other's content and are guests in each other's livestreams. For instance, Qadery can often be seen on YouTube and TikTok with like-minded influencers in Germany and Afghanistan.

Unnoticed outside own circle

The reach of European Taliban influencers on social media is relatively limited. Someone like Qadery has 82,000 subscribers on YouTube, nearly 56,000 followers on TikTok. In the world of influencers, these may not be impressive numbers, but within the Afghan diaspora community in Belgium, Germany and other European countries, Qadery is a very well-known name. Even Afghans who should have nothing to do with his ideas are familiar with his online activities.

Because they post mostly in Dari and Pashto and do not have huge numbers of followers, Taliban influencers go unnoticed outside their own circles. That is not to say it is an innocent phenomenon. NATO chief James Appathurai recently warned in the European Parliament about foreign interference via ‘micro influencers’; people with hundreds to thousands of followers who spread disinformation and propaganda. Appathurai was primarily referring to Russian influence, but other countries are also using influencers as part of a long-arm strategy to influence diaspora communities and disrupt Western societies.

In the case of Taliban influencers, there is no evidence of direct control from Kabul or payment for services rendered. However, the influencers regularly share on social media messages from Taliban leaders, Taliban-controlled Afghan media or influencers in Afghanistan working for the Taliban. They consistently take positions favourable to the Taliban and participate in online campaigns initiated by the Taliban.

One example: in July 2022, the hashtag #AfghansSupportTaliban suddenly appears on Twitter. It is a response to an online campaign against the Taliban launched shortly before. With the hashtag #BanTaliban, activists are trying to put pressure on Twitter to ban the Taliban from the platform, following the example of Meta, which did take that step on Facebook. Thousands of Twitter accounts started using the hashtag #AfghansSupportTaliban overnight. A network analysis by research firm ExTrac shows that a bot network is behind the campaign, but there are also human and blood users using the hashtag. Among them, several Taliban influencers in Europe. Another popular hashtag among Taliban supporters is #AfghanistanRising, often used among posts with examples meant to illustrate Afghanistan's resurgence under the Taliban.

Little will come of banning the Taliban from social media, as opponents would like to see. Certainly after Elon Musk's takeover of Twitter/X in August 2022, Taliban content will not be given a straw. Zabihullah Mujahid, the official spokesman for the Taliban leadership, has over a million followers on the platform.

In September 2022, the Taliban were still classified by Meta's oversight body, the Oversight Board, as a ‘terrorist organisation’ and included as such on an internal list of ‘Dangerous Individuals and Organisations’. But well before Zuckerberg put his fact checkers on the line to get in Trump's good graces, the door was left ajar for the Taliban. Taliban-led news agency Bakhtar News Agency returned to Facebook in October 2024, and numerous other Taliban media and Taliban propagandists also returned to Facebook and Instagram in recent years (if they had ever been gone).

Taliban got their PR right

The Taliban and social media; it remains a strange marriage. The world of likes, emojis and memes seems miles away from the dreamed reality of the Taliban, where there is no room for music, dance and other frivolity. When the Taliban first came to power in Afghanistan in 1996, they banned photography, television and all other forms of entertainment. Video tapes, cassettes and other sound carriers were confiscated and destroyed.
In 2001, even the entire internet was banned. The then Taliban foreign minister, Maulvi Wakil Ahmad Muttawakil, called the internet a hotbed of “obscenity, vulgarity and other anti-Islamic things” and said he was striving for a system “by which we can control all those things that are wrong, obscene, immoral and against Islam”.

Yet Hazrat Bahar, a fugitive Afghan scholar researching the Taliban's media strategy at the University of Leipzig, is not surprised that the mujahedeen use social media. The Taliban are very pragmatic in the way they use (social) media, he says. “In the post-2001 period, when the internet was not so big, they distributed videos of their attacks on coalition forces through memory cards. They also produced propaganda videos in their own studio. Around 2007 or 2008, they started using social media. They are now investing a lot of money in that. Not only in producing, but also in controlling and monitoring content.”

Journalists and influencers in Afghanistan who do not comply with the Afghan Ministry of Information's guidelines will receive a mandatory invitation for an interview, according to Bahar. Media makers outside Afghanistan are also being watched. Bahar says the notorious ‘General Mobin’ (not really a general, but a social media personality paid by the Taliban) a few years ago warned social media users abroad not to criticise the Taliban. Bahar: “The message was crystal clear; if you turn against the Taliban, we can hurt you. If we cannot get hold of you, we will go after your family in Afghanistan. This threat has had a big impact on activists and influencers outside Afghanistan, many people have become more cautious and dare not even like critical posts about the Taliban on social media.”

Before the 2021 coup, the Taliban mainly wanted to justify their fight against the government and international coalition forces, Bahar says. “They emphasised that the government was not Islamic and wanted to westernise Afghanistan. They also focused on the government's weaknesses: corruption, numerous examples of bribery.” During this period, the Taliban presented themselves as a popular movement fighting against an elite that wanted to impose ‘un-Afghan ideas such as democracy’ on the people, Bahar said. “At the same time, they had very little support among the Afghan population after 2001. They mainly recruited people from Pakistan in those early years. To persuade more Afghans to join the fight and sacrifice their lives, they particularly targeted remote rural areas, where the population is often poorly educated and vulnerable to indoctrination. In doing so, they enlisted the help of local mollahs, simple people trained at small madrassas.”

Spreading disinformation was always part of the strategy, Bahar believes. ‘Successes’ of Taliban attacks were invariably magnified, sometimes heavily exaggerating the number of casualties. In many cases, this disinformation was blindly copied by local and even international media, because the Taliban had their PR well in hand. Bahar: “Friends of journalists in Afghanistan told me that Taliban spokesmen were always very accessible and were often better and faster at sharing information than government spokesmen.”
Afghanistan expert Weeda Mehran, who researches extremist groups at the University of Exeter, also highlights the professionalism of the Taliban's media branch during this period. For example, the group published content not only in Dari and Pashtu, but also in English and Arabic. “It shows that they also wanted to reach an audience outside Afghanistan,” he says.” 

Ethnic nationalism

The Taliban's language and tone have changed since they returned to power, Bahar and Mehran say. As in al-Qaeda publications, which Mehran says were in some cases produced by the same media companies, concepts like martyrdom and jihad were central to Taliban media statements before 2021. This has not completely disappeared, but the emphasis is now more on legitimising their own rule. Popular are images of meetings with friendly government leaders and there is much focus on the supposed security in the Islamic Emirate. Hence, foreign travel vloggers are welcomed with open arms. On YouTube are multiple videos to find from naive or wilfully looking away Westerners travelling around Afghanistan under the direction of the Taliban.

The Taliban's propaganda, according to Mehran, increasingly combines jihadist ideology - against democratic values, against universal human rights - with a form of ethnic Pashtun chauvinism. “When they were still fighting the Afghan government and NATO forces, they needed everyone. They had support from al-Qaeda and other terrorist groups and welcomed any ethnic group that wanted to join them. There was a common enemy. Now that they are in power, they do not want to share that power with other groups. Suddenly the message is that the Pashtu are the largest ethnic group and therefore the rightful rulers of the country.”

The combination of jihadist ideology and ethnic nationalism is very dangerous, Mehran believes: “It increases tensions between ethnic groups in Afghanistan and within the Afghan diaspora community. Since the Taliban started presenting themselves as representatives of an ethnic group, there is much more discussion online between Afghans themselves.”
With their ethnic nationalism, Mehran says the Taliban are precisely also targeting Afghans in the West. “They do this shrewdly. They know that their ideological message does not appeal to all Afghans. But Pashtuns abroad may well feel appealed by the idea of Pashtun domination.”

Hate campaigns

The Taliban have a strong interest in increasing their influence in diaspora communities. Primarily to recruit more sympathisers and possibly persuade people to return to Afghanistan. But also to silence opponents. Inside Afghanistan, they have used censorship and repression to silence all critical voices; they want to achieve the same abroad, Mehran said. “The Taliban are worried about activists in the West voicing their dissent in the media. They try to organise a counter-narrative and put pressure on activists. This can lead to intimidation and even violence.”

The fact that Taliban propaganda is catching on with Afghans in the West is partly due to the conservatism that characterises diaspora communities, according to Mehran. “They are often more attached to certain cultural values and customs than the population in the country of origin. Young people who struggle to integrate or feel rejected by the West are particularly vulnerable to this type of propaganda.”

Refugee Afghans who are critical of the Taliban or refuse to conform to their moral teachings are regularly threatened. Often anonymously, but sometimes quite openly. ‘General Mobin’, an Afghan social media troll employed by the Taliban, shows his followers how it is done. He runs hate campaigns against influencers who behave in what he considers ‘un-Islamic’ ways. The examples are numerous.
In September 2024, the fake general performs during a livestream out against the influencer Khalil Qalander, popular on TikTok, who lives in the United Arab Emirates and dances in videos with western-dressed women, a mortal sin in the eyes of the Taliban. “You show up on TikTok with women, as Afghans and Pashtuns. You are a disgrace to Afghans and Muslims. [...] I am warning you. I have friends in Dubai. [...] I am telling all Afghans, especially preachers of Islam, that Khalil is my target from now on.” Another Afghan TikTokker, American-based Wali Ullah, is told by Mobin that he will give the names of his Afghan relatives to the Taliban ministry that oversees Sharia enforcement. “I swear by Allah, I will make them disappear”.

Ideological turnaround

European Taliban influencers differ widely on the face of it, but they use the same repertoire of propaganda, disinformation and misinformation. In Germany, Shahzad Poya is pivotal in a network of German Taliban supporters.
Poya worked in Afghanistan until at least 2019 as a journalist for various media companies, first in Kunduz province and later in Kabul. During that period, he was not yet a Taliban supporter. A former colleague from Afghanistan describes him as an ‘intelligent and hardworking man’ with little interest in politics.
Before seeking asylum in Germany in 2022, he lived and worked for several years in India, Iran and Turkey. In Iran, he started the YouTube channel Tamasha 24 TV (‘tamasha’ means ‘entertainment’), with news about Afghanistan, often with commentary by Poya himself. The channel took sides against the Taliban and was affiliated with the National Resistance Front, an alliance of resistance groups that continued to fight the Taliban in the Panjshir Valley for months after the fall of Kabul and today mainly operates from neighbouring Tajikistan.

In April 2024, by which time he had travelled to Germany from Turkey via Spain, Poya made a remarkable turn. In a YouTube video with Jamil Qadery, he publicly apologises to ‘emir’ Haibatullah Akhundzadada, the Taliban's supreme leader. He called on other Afghans to follow his example and accept the ‘reality’ of Afghanistan under Taliban rule. In particular, Poya said, Afghans should stop publishing critical videos on platforms like TikTok.

In the months following his ideological turnaround, Poya returns to it several times in his videos. For example, in response to apparent criticism, he stresses that it is ‘his own decision’ to support the Taliban and that he is not doing so under pressure from Qadery. In his videos on YouTube and TikTok, he now speaks only of the ‘Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan’ and spreads disinformation, such as the false claim that all Afghan minorities are represented in the Taliban government. “Supporting anti-Taliban forces is a betrayal of Afghanistan,” Poya declares in one of his broadcasts.

It remains puzzling why Poya so suddenly became a Taliban propagandist. Asked to comment, he wants to say little about it. Rather, he talks about his career plans. He hopes to get a job with a state broadcaster in Iran. He also talks about his involvement in a German-registered company he founded with two other Afghan media professionals. The company manages Persian-language YouTube channels of content creators and media companies from Iran, Afghanistan and Tajikistan. About three hundred YouTube channels would already ‘cooperate’ with his company, Poya says. He specifically mentions Afghan state broadcaster RTA. Herein possibly lies the explanation for Poya's knee-jerk reaction to the Taliban: he has a financial interest in a good relationship with the new Afghan rulers.

#AfghanistanRising

The combination of business-driven interests and idealism can also be seen with Dutch-Afghan academic and entrepreneur Sangar Paykhar, who describes himself as a ‘Muslim with orthodox-conservative beliefs’. Together with British Ahmed-Waleed Kakar, he is the driving force behind Afghan Eye, an ’independently operating media platform’ that aims to provide a ‘dissenting voice’ on Afghanistan. On Afghan Eye, geopolitical analyses can be read and listened to (there is also a podcast), showing Paykhar and Kakar's academic background. Here and there, there is even mild criticism of Taliban policy. But nowhere does it get really critical. Afghan Eye's ‘dissent’ mainly consists of the fact that, unlike the ‘mainstream media’ it detests, it readily accepts the Taliban as the legitimate government of Afghanistan and leaves no room for dissident voices.

In a interview with The Side Note, shortly after the Taliban seizure of power, Paykhar explains his criticism of the media: “Many Western journalists look at the world from secular, progressive, Western glasses. They are guided by a progressive Orientalism, with a worldview that is very black and white. Progressive Muslims are good, conservative Muslims are bad. That is also why they portray only those Muslims who confirm their progressive narrative. Women's rights activists, members of the Shia Hazara minority, and so on.”
Afghans fleeing the Taliban, according to Paykhar, “are too influenced by the ghost stories in the media, which portray the Taliban as barbaric monsters. That image is wrong. The Taliban are much more moderate now than they were in 2001.”

In the media, Paykhar, who works as a training coordinator and coach at Leiden University, presents himself as a journalist and independent Afghanistan expert. For instance, in 2020, he gives in the Radio 1 programme Spokespeople comments on the Doha agreement between the United States and the Taliban, and foreign media also occasionally quote him as an expert.
On social media, Paykhar shows a different side, one that casts serious doubts on his claimed independence. In late January 2025, the prosecutor of the International Criminal Court (ICC) announced that he had sought arrest warrants against Taliban leader Haibatullah Akhundzada and the chief justice of the Afghan Supreme Court, Abdul Hakim Haqqani, for crimes against humanity. The prosecutor holds the duo responsible, among other things, for the ‘persecution and large-scale discrimination against women and girls’ who have been deprived of their ‘basic human rights’ in Afghanistan. On X, Paykhar responded with biting sarcasm: “Feminism has won. When Taliban leaders are in jail, the world will be run by girl bosses.”
Criticism of the Taliban is punished harshly by Paykhar. Afghan journalist Nazira Karimi, who in early February this year  ridiculed by President Trump after she asked him a critical question about US Afghanistan policy during a joint press conference with Netanyahu at the White House, Paykhar kicked her ass. “I don't know a single Afghan who has any sympathy for the Zionist old hag Nazira Karimi”.

Accompanied by the hashtag #AfghanistanRising, Paykhar shares messages about progressive, safe Afghanistan under Taliban rule. Activists and Afghans who fled the Taliban regime are suspected and taunted by him. In June 2024, he tweeted, “I am not at all surprised to see Afghan refugees popping up in recent crime figures in European countries. These criminals used to be the enforcers of the occupation regime, and now they have settled in Europe in recent years.”

Paykhar's propaganda on social media does not go unnoticed. His posts are shared and liked by other Taliban influencers (including Qadery and Poya) and by prominent Taliban ideologues. Paykhar also has an ally in Syria. Like business partner Kakar, he is a regular guest on The New Middle East Podcast of German-Turkish Salafist Samet ‘Abdussamed’ Dagül. This Dagül travelled from Hanau to Syria in 2014, where he joined the jihadist rebel movement Jabhat al-Nusra, precursor to Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), the group that ousted Assad and is now in control in Syria. Turkey has placed Dagül on the terror list because it suspects him of links to al-Qaeda.

Dagül has warm feelings for the Taliban. In September 2023, he produced a delivery to ‘celebrate’ the Taliban's ‘victory’, then exactly two years ago. Guest of honour is ‘human rights activist’ Farah Mogahid Khor, one of the few female Taliban influencers on X. Mogahid moved to the Islamic holy state from Germany in 2021. Dressed entirely according to local dress code in a burka that leaves only her eyes unobstructed, she extols the ‘freedom’ women enjoy under the Taliban.

Paykhar and Kakar show an unadulterated pro-Taliban sound in Dagül's broadcasts where they are guests. The problems in Afghanistan are mainly the fault of the previous government (the ‘occupation’), or a result of Western sanctions. Kakar even dares to claim that denying girls education is indirectly the West's fault. In his sophistical line of reasoning, Western opponents of the Taliban have over-politicised the issue, making it difficult for ‘progressive’ voices in the Taliban cabinet to argue in favour of opening schools for girls, without raising suspicions of pro-Western tendencies.

‘Deluxe tours’ of Afghanistan

Paykhar also comes up with a piece of news in one of the New Middle East podcasts: he wants to set up a ‘media organisation’ in Afghanistan and is in the process of training a ‘team of English-speaking guys’ to take on the task. It appears to involve Eyes of Afghanistan, which produces National Geographic-style content on Afghanistan. The initiative does not seem very successful, but it does show that for Paykhar, as for Poya and Qadery, business interests play a role in his support for the Taliban.

Together with Kakar, Paykhar regularly travels to Afghanistan, something impossible for critics of the Taliban. In any case, all Afghan media makers have to be licensed by the Taliban, including content for social media. How much Paykhar earns from his media activities cannot be said. Afghan Eye LTD, Paykhar and Kakar's company that was registered with the British Chamber of Commerce, officially dissolved in October 2023, but followers of Afghan Eye and of Eyes of Afghanistan can still donate money via PayPal. Afghan Eye also has a Patreon account where you can become a subscriber for €66.22 a month.

Tourism is also a source of income for the enterprising Paykhar. On his social media, he regularly shares posts from Afghanistan-based travel agency Sangin Travels. The travel agency, established in June 2024, offers tours in different parts of Afghanistan. Package tours are priced from $1,800, rising to $3,650 for a ‘deluxe’ package. A phone call to the Kabul office reveals that travelling around Afghanistan is not a problem, even for women, provided they follow the dress code. “We have had clients from the Netherlands, Russia, Greece and North America. They all loved it.” Transferring money to Afghanistan is not possible, but fortunately the company has a partner in the Netherlands who can handle payment. Paying in cash is no problem. Moments later, the Afghan travel contractor sends the contact details of this Dutch colleague. It is, not surprisingly, Sangar Paykhar.

A talib in London

In the online universe of European Taliban followers, Paykhar, Kakar, Poya and Qadery stand out for their professionalism and wide reach on social media, but circling in orbit around these influencers are numerous fringe figures. For instance, there is the German-Afghan Pashtun nationalist with the username ‘johny_johny’ (aka ‘Johny Hazare Pashtun’), who appears in almost every livestream of Poya and Qadery. This ‘Johny’ also makes many live videos with Hamid Shah Abdali, a former presenter of game and show programmes on Afghan television. In one of those videos threatens Shah Abdali to “kill Taliban opponents with molten lead - even if it is my own brother”.

Some fringe figures make no effort to disguise their links to the reactionary Islamist movement. Even on the streets of multicultural Brixton and Peckham, neighbourhoods in south London with many residents and entrepreneurs of Pakistani and Afghan descent, Abdullah Zarqawi ‘Fidaie’ Mohammad is a standout. Dressed in a traditional shalwar kameez - a long, loose tunic combined with wide-leg trousers - a turban and with black charcoal make-up under his eyes, he looks up-and-coming talib. ‘Fidaie’, the name this Afghan prefers online, also refers to his pious disposition. ‘Fidaie’ is an honorary title that means as much as ‘devotee’. It is associated with martyrdom or self-sacrifice for religious purposes.

Fidaie is an avid social media user. He has multiple accounts on various platforms, often with the white flag emoji after his name. In terms of content, his posts do not amount to much. They are usually selfies, memes or short videos accompanied by sung Koran recitations. But all those selfies and videos give a nice insight into Fidaie's daily concerns. We see him hanging around shops in South London selling phones and credit. The shops are often an agency for Western Union and (under the counter) for hawala banking, the informal payment system that many Afghan and other migrants use to send money to relatives in the country of origin. Fidaie is visibly at ease there; in some selfies, he sits hunched over behind the counter.

Image laundering

Researcher Hazrat Bazar does not believe there is a centralised network of Taliban propagandists. According to him, the Taliban have always preferred decentralised networks. Weeda Mehran concurs: “It is a fragmented group. There will be people who are in direct contact with the Taliban, possibly with leaders, but there are many more who agree with Taliban ideology without having links to the organisation. That makes it difficult to combat this kind of online activity.”
Even without central control, Taliban influencers pose a threat to European democracies and to fleeing Afghans. The Taliban are keen to ‘whitewash’ their regime. They hope for international recognition as Afghanistan's official government. “They are interested in anyone who can boost their image,” thinks Bahar. “For example, they try to persuade well-known Afghans abroad to return to Afghanistan. ‘If this person returns, it must be safe for everyone,’ is the message.”

Diplomatic recognition of the Taliban by the international community is perilous, warns Mehran: “Then they can also go after their opponents outside Afghanistan. Iran is an example for Afghanistan in this respect. The Taliban do not yet have the same ‘long-arm’ capabilities as Iran, but these are tricks they can learn.”

According to Mehran, the danger of the Taliban is underestimated by the EU: “The Taliban are often presented as a nationalist movement interested only in Afghanistan. They don't talk about a global jihad like al-Qaeda. But jihadist ideology does exist within factions of the Taliban. Moreover, the connection between the Taliban and al-Qaeda is still close, although they try to make little publicity of it. There are still many foreign al-Qaeda operatives in Afghanistan. Those people have been given Afghan passports. If the Taliban gain control of embassies, these extremists will be able to travel more easily. That is cause for concern.”

‘One day we're going to find you’

Refugee Afghans critical of the Taliban are regularly threatened. Refugee journalists and influencers in the Netherlands, Germany and France, who wish to remain anonymous for fear of reprisals, tell similar stories about threats they receive. An Afghan journalist in the Netherlands, who has many followers on TikTok and Facebook, says he receives many hate messages and death threats, especially during livestreams in the comments. “Someone said: you live in the EU now, but one day we are going to find you and make you pay.”

A couple living in Germany, who make influencer videos for TikTok in Dari and Pashtu about culture, religion and family relationships, have already filed one report for threats. According to the couple, the threats came from people living in Europe. They say they know at least 10 Afghan women who have stopped activities on social media because of such threats.
An Afghan transgender man in Germany, who has many followers on Facebook and Instagram, receives hate messages almost continuously. His accounts have already been hacked once and he has reported dozens of times to the police.

‘Listen to their speeches’

From an undisclosed location outside Afghanistan, former Afghan vice president Amrullah Saleh shares his concerns about the Taliban's influence on the Afghan diaspora. Europeans are fooling themselves if they think the Taliban do not pose a danger, Saleh believes. “To export their ideology, the Taliban do not need to load books on a plane. They have social media and modern means of communication for that.”

After the fall of Kabul, Saleh joined Ahmad Massoud, who led the armed resistance against the Taliban from the Panjshir valley. After the Taliban prevailed in Panjshir too, Massoud and Saleh fled abroad. Saleh has his own political organisation, Afghanistan Green Trend, and, together with Massoud, leads the opposition movement National Resistance Front.

According to Saleh, an organised foreign network of Taliban influencers does exist. “In Afghanistan, they have a hundred and fifty influencers in every province. These are on the payroll of the Ministry of Culture, but are actually managed and directed by the intelligence service. We are now investigating which influencers abroad they are working with.”

Saleh warns against Taliban-influenced radicalisation of young people in Europe. In his view, European countries need to crack down on propaganda to prevent young people from seeing the Taliban as role models. “The Taliban are trying to whitewash their image, but they cannot change reality. That reality is that they do not regard women as full human beings, they do not believe in international law and the order based on it. They believe in the supremacy of armed jihad and regard the West as morally corrupt and evil.” It is not his interpretation, Saleh stresses. “Listen to their speeches, they say it out loud.”

‘Peace ambassador’ flees to Kabul

There is also resistance to the activities of Taliban influencers from the Afghan community in Europe. After the Belgian newspaper L'Avenir published an article on self-styled ‘Ambassador for Peace’ Jamil Qadery in May 2023, a number of activists had had enough. They started an online petition calling for his expulsion from Belgium. Questions on the issue were raised in the Belgian parliament.
State Secretary for Asylum and Migration Nicole de Moor ordered an investigation into the links of Qadery, who had asylum status in Belgium, with the Taliban. The Commissioner General for Refugees and Stateless Persons concluded in May 2024 that Qadery no longer needed the protection of the Belgian state given his particularly cordial relations with the Taliban. His refugee status was lifted, a first step towards deportation. Qadery appealed the decision.

In Afghan circles, Qadery's possible expulsion was big news. On the Afghan internet, Qadery was the talk of the day. Opponents made merry: memes appeared and even satirical animation videos in which Qadery was ridiculed. But his supporters were also mobilised. Taliban-controlled state broadcaster RTA launched a solidarity campaign, using the hashtag #WeAreAllJamilQadery.

Qadery's appeal and the campaign of his supporters proved hopeless. On 16 May 2025, his Belgian refugee status was permanently revoked. The ‘peace ambassador’ did not wait for the ruling by the Belgian Council for Foreigners' Disputes; as early as December 2024, he suddenly turned up in Kabul, where he was welcomed by the Taliban as a hero.
Since then, Qadery has been travelling around Afghanistan with an escort of Taliban fighters to shoot propaganda videos for his social media channels. Surprisingly, we sometimes see him in the company of Belgian convert Jean-Louis Denis. This Denis is a hate preacher who in the past recruited dozens of people for jihad in Syria, including two terrorists responsible for deadly attacks in Paris and Brussels in 2015 and 2016. For his part in recruiting, Denis was sentenced to five years in prison.

Qadery, meanwhile, is proving too radical even for some Taliban. After he lectured a begging child for not wearing a hijab in one of his videos, many Taliban complained on social media about his sharpening. ‘Can't we send him back to Belgium?’

This story was the first major production of RFG Newsroom, a work-study programme for refugee journalists interested in investigative journalism. A team of four Afghan journalists, supplemented by RFG trainee Besan Zarzar, worked on the investigation for almost a year. Freelancer Sona Sohar contributed to the investigation in Germany.

For security reasons, so as not to endanger family in Afghanistan, the four Afghan journalists on the core team remain anonymous.

This project was made possible by Fonds Bijzondere Journalistieke Projecten and the Veronica Foundation.