In the latest crackdown on Afghan women’s basic freedoms, the Taliban have launched a sweeping campaign of arrests, abductions, and abuse across Kabul—targeting women and girls for their clothing, visibility, and defiance. Human rights defenders are calling the campaign a calculated assault on dignity and a defining feature of Afghanistan’s entrenched system of gender apartheid.
Between July 16 and 19, the Taliban’s “morality police” detained dozens, possibly over a hundred, women and girls in neighborhoods across the capital, according to firsthand testimonies and rights groups. Victims were dragged into unmarked vehicles, transferred to unknown locations, and subjected to physical abuse for alleged violations of hijab mandates—even when fully covered.
While the Taliban claim the arrests are based on “improper hijab,” women describe the campaign as an indiscriminate dragnet of fear. In areas like Dasht-e Barchi, suburbs of Kabul, and Shahr-e Naw, downtown Kabul, women reported loudspeaker warnings, roadblocks, and patrols at shopping centers. Some were detained for wearing slippers without socks. Others, despite wearing hijabs, were taken for not wearing masks.
The United Nations issued a statement on July 22 expressing concern over the arrests and warning that such policies isolate women and girls, erode public trust, and violate fundamental rights. But the statement offered no specifics on the number detained or where they were taken. And it stopped short of proposing any concrete action.
This silence is not new. For nearly four years, the international community has condemned Taliban repression while failing to deliver accountability. The latest arrests mark a grim intensification of policies the UN itself has recognized as “gender apartheid.” Yet the global response remains fragmented and rhetorical.
According to witnesses, Taliban agents in armored vehicles have targeted women near hospitals, restaurants, and buses. Some detainees have reportedly been transferred directly to intelligence directorates for months-long imprisonment. Others face abuse, humiliation, and release only upon paying bribes.
Julia Parsi, a former political prisoner and women’s rights protestor, called it a “major blow to women’s freedom and a sign that the Taliban fear their voices.” She warned: “The girls are being taken from every corner of Kabul. Their only crime is being visible.”
These tactics coincide with the regime’s ongoing enforcement of the “Virtue and Vice” law, which prohibits women from leaving home without a male guardian, speaking loudly, or showing their faces—even in emergencies. The law has essentially criminalized womanhood in public.
Yet, as the crackdown continues, so does resistance. Activists like Parisa Azada have launched campaigns such as “No to the Arrest of Girls,” publishing protest videos and speaking out despite the risk of retaliation. “Our silence, fear, and pain will not last forever,” Azada declared. “We will not be erased.”
But activists warn that without international consequences such as targeted sanctions, legal accountability, and refusal to recognize the Taliban regime, the oppression will only deepen. The arrests are not an isolated incident. They are part of a deliberate, escalating strategy of control.
While the arrests are taking place in Kabul and reported by some media outlets, in provinces across Afghanistan, acts of flogging, arbitrary detention, and even killings by the Taliban occur more frequently. These violations, carried out away from the media spotlight, are rarely documented or reported.
What is unfolding in Afghanistan is not simply a dress code crackdown; it is a full-scale attempt to eliminate women from public life. Through surveillance, threats, and abductions, the Taliban are tightening their grip on every aspect of a woman’s existence. The regime dictates how women appear, where they go, whether they speak, and now, whether they are even permitted to be seen. Their message is clear: a woman who moves freely, speaks publicly, or resists is a threat to be silenced.
And yet, as this campaign of erasure escalates, the world remains largely silent. Governments that once championed women’s rights now offer vague concern. International bodies issue warnings, but rarely impose consequences. Each arrest, each disappearance, is met not with coordinated action, but with quiet resignation. In doing so, the global community reinforces a disappointing truth—that the suffering of Afghan women is visible, acknowledged, and yet permitted to continue. Until this reality is confronted with urgency and resolve, Afghan women will continue to pay the price, not because the world does not know, but because it has chosen not to act.