The Taliban’s Foreign Policy: Recognition Without Recognition
The Taliban’s Foreign Policy: Recognition Without Recognition
Five years after the Taliban returned to Kabul, the most important question surrounding Afghanistan’s international position may no longer be who formally recognises its government. A more revealing question is who is willing to deal with it as one. And the answer is more surprising than we would first think.
For much of the period following August 2021, international recognition was presented as the ultimate prize in the Taliban’s foreign policy. The assumption was simple: the new rulers of Afghanistan needed diplomatic legitimacy, and the international community could therefore use recognition as leverage to demand political inclusion, respect for human rights and, above all, a reversal of increasingly severe restrictions on women and girls. Five years later, that equation looks considerably weaker.
Russia became the first country to formally recognise the Taliban government in July 2025. Yet the more significant development has taken place outside the formal language of recognition. China and the United Arab Emirates have accepted Taliban-appointed ambassadors, while Uzbekistan and Pakistan have also upgraded diplomatic representation with Kabul. India has progressively expanded political and economic contacts. Central Asian governments trade with Afghanistan, discuss transport projects and negotiate security issues with Taliban officials. Even European governments that explicitly reject recognition increasingly find themselves talking directly to Kabul. The result is an unusual diplomatic reality: the Taliban remain formally isolated, but increasingly operationally integrated. This may prove to be the central achievement of Taliban foreign policy.
The Taliban initially appeared to have few diplomatic options. Their first government, between 1996 and 2001, had been recognised by only three countries. When they returned to power in 2021, Western embassies closed, Afghan state assets abroad were frozen, development assistance collapsed and the new authorities were denied the broad international legitimacy they sought. But the Taliban inherited one major strategic advantage: geography. Afghanistan cannot be removed from the calculations of its neighbours. It connects Central Asia, South Asia, Iran. Its territory matters for trade corridors, migration, counterterrorism, narcotics, energy infrastructure and regional security. Governments may dislike the Taliban’s domestic system, but they cannot simply conduct regional policy as if Afghanistan did not exist.
Kabul appears to have understood this constraint better than many of its critics. Instead of making its foreign policy dependent on a collective act of international recognition, the Taliban gradually pursued bilateral functional relationships. The message was effectively transactional: governments did not need to endorse the Islamic Emirate ideologically; they merely needed to accept that it was the authority controlling Afghanistan and that practical interests required dealing with it.
China illustrated the distinction early. Beijing became the first government to appoint a new ambassador to Afghanistan after the Taliban takeover, and later accepted the credentials of a Taliban-appointed Afghan ambassador. Yet it stopped short of formal recognition. The UAE followed a similar pattern. Pakistan and Uzbekistan subsequently raised their representation in Kabul to ambassadorial level. These may appear to be technical diplomatic distinctions. Politically, however, they matter enormously. Afghanistan is becoming a partner because it cannot be ignored. Nowhere is this clearer than in Central Asia. The Central Asian states have gradually moved away from treating Taliban-controlled Afghanistan primarily as a threat beyond their southern frontier. Security concerns remain, especially terrorism and militant networks, but Afghanistan is increasingly discussed simultaneously as a market, transit state and potential component of regional connectivity. Kazakhstan and Turkmenistan have worked with Taliban authorities on plans for a logistics hub in western Afghanistan intended to facilitate regional trade, while wider discussions have continued around railways and transport links connecting Central and South Asia. Afghan trade also proved surprisingly resilient during 2025 despite repeated disruptions along the Pakistani border, with businesses increasingly using routes through Iran and Central Asia instead.
Talking about Russia. After removing the Taliban from its list of banned terrorist organisations in April 2025, Moscow formally recognised the government three months later. By May 2026, Russian officials were openly describing the relationship as a “full-fledged partnership” encompassing security, trade, culture and humanitarian cooperation, while encouraging other members of the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation to expand engagement with Kabul.
Other governments have not rushed to follow Russia formally. They may not need to. Afghanistan has expanded commercial routes through Iran and Central Asia while simultaneously improving relations with India. In October 2025, Taliban Foreign Minister Amir Khan Muttaqi made the first high-level visit of its kind to India since the takeover, and New Delhi subsequently moved to upgrade its representation in Kabul. Indian-Taliban economic contacts have continued to expand against the backdrop of worsening Afghan-Pakistani relations.
Taliban diplomacy should no longer be understood simply through the old framework of patron and proxy. Kabul is attempting to practise a recognisably Afghan form of regional balancing: maintaining relations with competing powers, avoiding excessive dependence on any one neighbour and exploiting rivalries where possible. That is not ideological diplomacy. It is statecraft driven by regime survival and Europe is entering the same contradiction. The most striking evidence of the success of this strategy may now be emerging not in Moscow, Beijing or Tashkent, but in Brussels. On June 23, 2026, a Taliban delegation met European Union officials in Brussels for the first time since the movement returned to power. The discussions focused primarily on migration and the return of Afghan nationals whose asylum claims had failed. Belgium had issued visas to five Taliban representatives for the talks. Both the EU and its member states continue to insist that they do not recognise the Taliban government. That distinction is legally important. Politically, however, the paradox is difficult to miss. Europe wants Kabul to cooperate on migration. It therefore requires identifiable Afghan officials with whom agreements can be discussed and returns coordinated. Germany had already moved in this direction in 2025 by accrediting Taliban-appointed diplomats partly to facilitate deportations, despite continuing to reject formal recognition. The formula is becoming familiar: engagement without recognition, cooperation without endorsement, diplomacy without diplomatic normalisation.
For European governments, this may be unavoidable. Afghanistan cannot be managed exclusively through statements of condemnation. Migration, humanitarian access, counterterrorism and consular issues require communication with whoever exercises power in Kabul. But Europe should recognise the consequence of its own policy. Engagement may not constitute recognition in international law, yet repeated engagement contributes to normalisation in political practice.
Author: Blanka Benkő-Kovács, advisor - LCTS, LUPS
Image source: Wikimedia Commons