Moscow and Kabul

Engagement, rather than isolation, offers a channel to manage the risks.

Russia’s slow but steady embrace of the Taliban government in Afghanistan isn’t just a regional adjustment. It’s a statement of how Moscow sees the world now: fractured, opportunistic, and post-Western. As the West debates legitimacy and recognition, the Kremlin is doing what power does best—working with whatever reality it’s handed. Three years ago, when the Taliban marched into Kabul without firing many bullets, there was panic, outrage, and then silence. The Americans pulled out. NATO followed. The West turned its back. Most states took the diplomatic middle road, neither recognising the Taliban nor cutting them off completely. Russia has played a longer game. And now, it’s showing its hand.

Afghanistan sits right below Russia’s soft underbelly: Central Asia. Countries like Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan may have their own flags and borders, but they’ve long been within Moscow’s security orbit. Chaos in Afghanistan doesn’t stop at the Hindu Kush—it seeps into these fragile republics. And Moscow knows this. From Russia’s perspective, formalising ties with the Taliban is not about legitimising ideology; it is about securing borders, neutralising transnational threats, and ensuring that Afghanistan does not relapse into the kind of ungoverned chaos that fuelled extremism in the past. Moscow has valid security concerns rooted in history and geography. Engagement, rather than isolation, offers a channel to manage those risks. The Taliban, however controversial, remains the de facto authority; refusing to recognise this only perpetuates a dangerous diplomatic void.

Then there’s ISIS-K, the Afghan branch of the Islamic State. This isn’t just another extremist group—it views the Taliban as traitors, Russia as an enemy, and violence as a divine obligation. In March 2024, ISIS-K claimed responsibility for a devastating attack on a concert venue near Moscow that left over 140 people dead. The scale and audacity of the assault cemented Russia’s view of ISIS-K as a direct national security threat. That, in part, explains why Moscow now sees cautious engagement with the Taliban as a strategic necessity: better to empower a force that is actively fighting ISIS-K than to stand by and risk the spread of unchecked chaos.

And this concern isn’t new. As far back as 2017, Russian officials were accusing the United States of turning a blind eye—or worse, enabling the movement of ISIS-linked fighters in Afghanistan. The Foreign Ministry pointed to unmarked helicopters transporting militants into northern Afghan provinces near the Central Asian border, within airspace controlled by US and NATO forces. Moscow demanded explanations, arguing such operations couldn’t have taken place without at least tacit American approval. Washington dismissed the accusations as unfounded. But the episode exposed a deeper anxiety: that the US might be using ISIS-K as a geopolitical tool to keep the region unstable. That suspicion never disappeared, and today, it still shapes how the Kremlin approaches its Afghan strategy.

Of course, security matters, but it’s not the whole picture. Some of it is just cold economics. Afghanistan is poor, broken, and isolated—but it’s sitting on enormous mineral wealth: lithium, copper, rare earths. In a world increasingly shaped by energy transitions and tech supply chains, these resources matter. The West is out. Chinese companies are already in. Russia doesn’t want to be left behind. Recognition opens the door to deals, contracts, and influence. Russia’s foreign policy since the Ukraine war has changed character. It’s no longer about being part of the European club. Now, Moscow is building new networks across Asia, the Middle East, and Africa. Its outreach to the Taliban fits neatly into that post-Ukraine pivot. The West abandoned Afghanistan. So Russia fills the void—not out of charity, but because power hates a vacuum.

It is to be noted that this shift is making things tricky for Central Asian states. These countries don’t trust the Taliban—especially Tajikistan, which has a history of supporting anti-Taliban groups. But they also don’t want to go against Moscow. If Russia recognises the Taliban, Central Asia may have to quietly fall in line, whether it likes it or not. For them, it’s a bad choice between instability and irrelevance.

And then there’s China. Beijing and Moscow have worked closely in recent years, especially since both found themselves under Western pressure. But Afghanistan is a place where their interests rub up against each other. China wants to expand its Belt and Road network, protect its western Xinjiang region from militant spillover, and secure mining rights. It prefers calm, predictability, and deals that serve its long-term economic goals. Russia’s approach is different—less cautious and more political. It wants to be seen as a major player in yet another theatre. In the short term, both countries may coordinate on basic issues like terrorism. But over time, competition is inevitable. They’re circling the same mountain, but with different maps.

For Afghanistan, Russian recognition won’t change the lives of ordinary Afghans. It won’t reopen girls’ schools, restore jobs, or fix the economy. But it does give the Taliban more breathing room. It chips away at their isolation and adds weight to their claim of being the legitimate rulers of the country. With Russia at the table, other countries might follow—not out of conviction, but necessity. With the West’s abrupt withdrawal and policy paralysis, it is no longer feasible or responsible to leave Afghanistan in political limbo. Power dynamics in South and Central Asia are now being shaped by regional actors with immediate security stakes: Moscow, Beijing, Islamabad, and Tehran. These are the states that are bearing the consequences of Afghan instability—and they are rightly taking ownership of the post-US landscape.

Dr. Gul.i.Ayesha Bhatti
The writer is a current affairs analyst and faculty member at the National University of Science and Technology (NUST), Islamabad. She can be reached at guleayeshabhatti@gmail.com