By Ahan S. Prakash
Authoritarian regimes have a knack for flaunting their rule as if it is carved in stone. But really, it is not. Five years have passed since the Taliban stormed into Kabul, and every time someone brings up international recognition, the answer stays the same: “We are in charge everywhere, nothing else matters.” They like to parade the fact that every province listens to them, that their social rules go unchallenged, and that there is no rival army camping outside Kabul, waiting to pounce. All these pieces are supposed to scream strength and permanence. But look a bit closer and things are starting to fray.
Armed resistance is not just a small, hidden problem up in the northeast anymore. It is spreading. Opposition groups are reorganizing, reaching provinces the Taliban thought were locked down for good. Winning back in 2021 did not magically win the peace that followed. In fact, the regime’s heavy handed tactics are quietly fueling the very insurgencies they insist do not exist.
The most obvious change is where the fighting happens. Right after the Taliban took over, armed opposition barely showed itself outside a few northeastern areas, Panjshir, Baghlan, Badakhshan. The National Resistance Front, led by Ahmad Massoud, and Yasin Zia’s Afghanistan Freedom Front were basically carrying that early fight. The Taliban played up a simple story: “This is just some local Tajik holdout, nothing to worry about.” That suited almost everyone for a while. Foreign governments shrugged and treated the opposition like a local oddity, and the Taliban sold their rule as unchallenged. The whole setup rested on one idea: resistance would never spread.
But that idea does not hold anymore. These days, international observers and the U.N. are seeing a steady rise in attacks. By mid 2026, U.N. reports documented 88 claimed opposition attacks in 21 different provinces, and many were confirmed with real detail. By late summer, resistance groups said they had carried out nearly 120 operations in 26 of the 34 provinces. It is not just the north and northeast anymore, but the central highlands, the east, the west, and more awkwardly for the Taliban, the south. Sure, the numbers are not always reliable. Claims are easy, proof is harder. Still, the sheer geography makes it hard to pretend nothing is happening. What started as scattered, isolated resistance is starting to look like a web.
Control is not the same as security, and scaring people into submission is not real stability.
The growth of unrest in the south stings the most for the Taliban. In August 2026, the Afghanistan United Front launched its first big operations. Led by Sami Sadat, a former ANA lieutenant general, the AUF is not just a ragtag bunch. It is stacked with former commandos and intelligence types, mostly Pashtun, who spent years fighting the Taliban and know exactly how they think. The group’s campaigns have hit Helmand, Kandahar, Nimroz and Ghor, the regime’s own backyard. The old excuse, that the opposition is just a handful of northern Tajiks, does not work when Pashtun led groups launch attacks right in the Taliban’s heartland.
Strangely, the Taliban helped build this opposition itself. Back in 2021, it promised amnesty to former government workers and soldiers. But that was just words. Human rights groups and the U.N. have since tracked hundreds of extrajudicial executions, forced disappearances, arbitrary detentions and torture. Most of this violence targeted the very people who had been told they were safe: former soldiers, police, pilots, intelligence staff. Individually, their disappearances did not make international headlines. Collectively, though, they make up a pool of trained, angry men with few options left.
So the Taliban now faces a problem it created. Demobilized soldiers, policemen who went home, commanders who might have just faded away, faced brutal choices: hide, flee or fight. More and more are picking the last option. And they bring something you cannot fake: weapons training, command skills, local knowledge, and a real understanding of how the Taliban operates. Every brutal crackdown just pushes another group of experienced fighters into the hands of the insurgency.
At the same time, the regime is fighting on two fronts. One is political, republican minded groups pushing for more inclusive or democratic politics. The other? ISIS K. This group is not interested in pluralism; it is after a transnational, ultra hardline, sectarian agenda. So, the Taliban’s security forces are stretched thin, fighting two different enemies with totally separate goals. ISIS K bombs mosques, schools, crowded markets, killing civilians in ways the Taliban cannot hide. Each attack cuts into the regime’s credibility, shattering the promise of restored order. Managing all this at once would test any government; the Taliban is stretched across province after province.
Every brutal crackdown pushes another group of experienced, trained former soldiers into the hands of the insurgency.
Does this mean the resistance is on the verge of victory? Not really. Its weaknesses are obvious: fragmentation, no shared command, no common strategy, not even a shared vision beyond getting rid of the Taliban. There are too many groups, the NRF, AFF, AUF, National Independence Front, Afghan Green Trend, each doing its own thing. They lack heavy weapons and the kind of supply lines needed to really threaten Kabul or take a major city. Foreign support, usually the life blood of Afghan insurgencies, is thin and unreliable. On paper, they should not stand a chance.
But insurgency is not always about storming the palace gates. Sometimes it is about wearing the regime down, death by a thousand cuts. Fragmented groups can do a lot of damage just by picking off officials, ambushing checkpoints, and hunting intelligence officers. Do this often enough in enough places and suddenly, big stretches of Afghanistan become hard, even impossible, to govern. The Taliban spends money and deploys manpower it cannot replace, and the bleeding does not stop. These insurgencies are rarely fast. They do not need to be.
None of this is just an Afghan problem, either. It matters abroad, especially for Washington and regional powers considering how to deal with the Taliban. Assuming that the post 2021 order is permanent is a costly mistake. Controlling government offices and territory is not the same as building a lasting state. The Taliban’s strategy, shutting out opponents, suppressing women’s rights, targeting former security forces, might keep things quiet at first. But in doing so, they shut down every peaceful means for regular Afghans to vent their frustrations. What is left for these people now? For more and more, the only answer is violence.
Force is how the Taliban took power, and it is still their only tool. Public consent never mattered to them. Now, the cost of that choice is clear in this conflict, a conflict they cannot even bring themselves to name. The regime is not about to collapse tomorrow, but as violence keeps spreading, a simple truth stands out: control is not the same as security, and scaring people into submission is not real stability. Every year the Taliban rules through fear alone, their grip gets weaker, and the peace they promised slips further and further out of reach.
About the Author
Ahan S. Prakash is a Geopolitical analyst and columnist covering South Asian affairs, strategic security, and international relations.