The central contradiction is between the Taliban’s repeated claims of establishing an Islamic system and the reported treatment of Afghan citizens whose property, security and basic rights should be protected under any credible framework of Islamic governance. The Andisha case provides a concrete example: a predominantly Hazara settlement whose residents say they are being denied control over privately owned land without a transparent legal process.
When the Taliban Claim Sharia, Why Are Hazaras Being Stripped of Their Land?
The Taliban’s latest actions against residents of Andisha township in Herat expose another serious contradiction between their claims of Islamic governance and their treatment of Afghanistan’s own population. Residents of the predominantly Hazara settlement say Taliban forces have begun construction on privately owned land without their consent, explanation or accountability, after the authorities had already declared the properties government-owned.
According to residents, Taliban armed personnel have been carrying out construction work on more than 10 acres of private land for the past three days. The landowners say the work is being undertaken forcibly, while neither the authorities nor those supervising the construction have explained whether the land is intended for government facilities or is being handed over to individuals for private housing.
The dispute is not new. Residents say the Taliban have prohibited the sale and construction of properties in the area for approximately 18 months, effectively preventing homeowners from exercising their ownership rights. The Taliban’s Ministry of Justice declared the land in Andisha an “emirate” in early 2025, after which residents were repeatedly instructed to vacate their homes. Although forced evictions have not yet begun, the latest construction activity has intensified fears that residents could eventually lose both their properties and homes.
The settlement, located west of Herat Industrial City in Guzara district, is home to more than 3,000 families, most of them Hazaras. Residents maintain that the township was established around two decades ago with official permission from the previous Afghan government. They also say repeated appeals to Taliban institutions have failed to produce any clear explanation about the legal status or future of their properties.
The implications extend well beyond a property dispute. At stake is a fundamental question: what protection does an ordinary Afghan citizen have when the very authorities responsible for safeguarding their rights become the source of uncertainty over their homes, livelihoods and ownership?
The question becomes particularly troubling when examined against the Taliban’s repeated claims of implementing Sharia. An Islamic system cannot credibly claim legitimacy merely by imposing religious restrictions or demanding obedience. Justice, protection of life, dignity, property and the rights of individuals are equally fundamental considerations. Private ownership cannot simply become meaningless because an authority declares someone’s property government land without transparent legal proceedings, verification of ownership and an opportunity for affected families to challenge the decision.
The Taliban have repeatedly presented themselves as the guardians of Islamic values. Yet their conduct raises questions about whose rights their interpretation of those values actually protects. If a family that has legally occupied and owned a home for decades can be deprived of its property without an effective remedy, the very concept of justice is being undermined.
The targeting of Hazara settlements also raises concerns about the treatment of Afghanistan’s ethnic and religious minorities. Hazaras, most of whom belong to the Shia community, have faced longstanding discrimination, restrictions and targeted violence. The Taliban’s land policies have added another dimension to these concerns, with Hazara settlements in Herat, Kabul, Ghazni, Balkh and other areas reportedly coming under scrutiny or being declared government property.
The danger is not merely theoretical. On April 10, 2026, unidentified gunmen opened fire on civilians gathered near a Shia shrine in Herat’s Deh Meri area, killing at least 11 people and injuring another 11, according to the United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan. Women and children were among the victims. The perpetrators’ identities and motives have not been conclusively established, and responsibility for the attack should not be attributed without evidence. Nevertheless, the massacre demonstrated the vulnerability of civilians and the continuing need for effective protection of religious communities.
Against this backdrop, depriving a predominantly Hazara community of property security only compounds the insecurity faced by its members. Protecting minorities means more than issuing assurances after attacks. It requires safeguarding their lives, religious freedoms, homes, land, dignity and equal standing before the law.
Nor is the contradiction limited to ethnic and religious minorities. The Taliban’s treatment of Afghan women and girls offers perhaps the most sweeping illustration of the restrictions imposed under their claimed Islamic system. Girls remain barred from education beyond the sixth grade, women are excluded from universities and much of public employment, and restrictions have severely curtailed their freedom of movement, access to public spaces and participation in society.
In practical terms, an entire segment of Afghanistan’s population has been pushed out of public life. Women and girls are denied opportunities to study, work and contribute to their country’s future. The European Union Agency for Asylum’s 2026 assessment documents these restrictions across education, employment, healthcare, freedom of movement and access to justice. The International Criminal Court’s July 2025 arrest warrants for the Taliban’s supreme leader and chief justice over alleged persecution on gender grounds further demonstrate the gravity of the international legal concerns surrounding these policies.
The Taliban’s approach to governance therefore raises a question much bigger than the fate of Andisha’s landowners: can an administration claim to uphold Islamic justice while leaving minorities fearful for their homes and women excluded from virtually every meaningful sphere of public life?
The pattern of land declarations adds further weight to that question. On September 26, the Taliban’s Ministry of Justice announced that it had identified and returned more than four million acres of land across Afghanistan as “emirate” property over four years. It also claimed that land in 49 townships had been fully or partially identified as government-owned. Such figures may be presented as an achievement in recovering state property, but the process becomes deeply contentious when people who claim longstanding ownership are left without transparent decisions or meaningful avenues of appeal.
Even more concerning are reports that the Taliban’s Commission for the Restitution of Seized Lands has included Hazara and Shia settlements in its investigations. If ownership disputes are being pursued selectively or without impartial procedures, the consequences could extend beyond individual families to entire communities.
The basic responsibility of any governing authority is to protect its population, irrespective of ethnicity, religious affiliation, cultural background or political association. This responsibility cannot be replaced by ideological declarations, selective interpretations of religion or arbitrary administrative decisions.
The Taliban must explain the legal basis for taking control of Andisha’s privately owned land, disclose the intended purpose of the construction and provide residents with an independent and transparent mechanism to defend their ownership claims. Anything less leaves thousands of families facing uncertainty over the most basic foundation of their lives: a secure home.
Ultimately, the contradiction is difficult to ignore. The Taliban demand religious conformity from the population but have yet to demonstrate that their system offers equal protection, justice and dignity to that same population. Their claims of Islamic governance must be measured against the rights they actually protect, not the religious slogans they repeatedly invoke.
