Abandoning our Afghan allies is a moral and strategic mistake

The Hill

5 hours ago

It is a bad time for thousands of Afghans who risked their lives helping the U.S. over the past two decades.
On June 2, it was announced that the office that helps with relocation of Afghans who helped America will close on July 1.
Last month, the Department of Homeland Security formally ended Temporary Protected Status for roughly 10,000 Afghans who fled their country after the Taliban's return to power in 2021. Under the new directive, Afghan nationals currently residing in the U.S. under Temporary Protected Status have just under six weeks to leave, setting a deadline of July 14. Most of these Afghans are waiting for the backlog to clear to get the Special Immigrant Visa that was promised to them because of the help they provided the U.S. since its 2001 invasion.
Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem stated that 'Afghanistan has had an improved security situation, and its stabilizing economy no longer prevent them from returning to their home country.' Yet, only days later, the State Department included Afghan citizens on a new 'travel ban' list due to deteriorating security situation and threat of terrorism from that country, contradicting what Noem and her department had claimed.
Anyone paying attention to Afghanistan since the Taliban's return knows that it is not safe. The country has collapsed into an economic and humanitarian crisis. Al Qaeda has reestablished its position, operating training camps and safe houses across the country. According to a recent U.N. report, Afghanistan is now a 'permissive environment' for al Qaeda consolidation. Meanwhile, the Afghan branch of the so-called Islamic State has never been stronger.
Girls cannot attend school beyond grade six. Women cannot work or even leave their homes without permission from a male relative. Ethnic and religious minorities continue to face persecution. The Taliban are hunting down Afghans who worked with the U.S. and its allies — often with deadly consequences. The claim that Afghanistan is now 'safe' is false.
This issue is tricky for the Trump administration. In February 2020, President Trump reached a deal with the Taliban that planted the seed for the withdrawal of U.S. forces by May 2021. That agreement set in motion the Taliban's return to power.
When President Joe Biden took office in 2021, he had the chance to cancel the deal, but he did not. By July, most U.S. and allied troops had left. On August 15, the Taliban seized Kabul. By Sept. 11, 2021 — the 20th anniversary of 9/11 — they controlled more of Afghanistan than they had on that tragic day in 2001. Both presidents share the blame.
In the chaotic withdrawal, the U.S. left behind an estimated $7 billion in military equipment — most of which is now in Taliban hands or circulating on the regional black market.
But the greater cost has been moral: the abandonment of tens of thousands of Afghans who served alongside American forces. Many of these men and women risked their lives for U.S. forces as interpreters, engineers, medics and contractors. For them, the Taliban's return is not just a change of government — it's a death sentence.
Given the chaos the Biden administration allowed at America's southern border, it might be tempting to fold the Afghan resettlement issue into the broader immigration debate. But that approach would be both lazy and strategically short-sighted. Afghanistan and the broader regions of Central and South Asia will remain central to U.S. counterterrorism and foreign policy for the foreseeable future, and pretending otherwise is naive.
There are four clear strategic reasons why helping Afghans who aided the U.S. is not only just but smart.
First, honoring our commitment to Afghan partners sends a powerful message to future allies. In every modern conflict, American forces have relied on local partners for on-the-ground support. That pattern will almost certainly continue. If local partners believe the U.S. won't protect them when the fight is over, they will be far less willing to take that risk, which would weaken America's global reach and credibility.
Second, Afghans already in the U.S. represent a critical talent pool. Many are trained linguists and cultural experts. During the two-decade U.S. mission in Afghanistan, they filled roles that no one else could. Yet in November 2023, Defense Language Institute ceased instruction in Pashto, one of Afghanistan's national languages. Should the U.S. again need Pashto speakers or regional experts, the Afghan American community will be indispensable.
Third, these Afghans could help shape a post-Taliban Afghanistan. After 2001, the Afghan American diaspora was key to rebuilding the country. The current Taliban regime is fractured and unlikely to maintain control indefinitely. Offering refuge to educated, professionally trained Afghans bolsters U.S. capacity now and supports future stabilization efforts.
Fourth, Afghan immigrants provide indirect humanitarian aid via remittances. In 2019, remittances made up 4.4 percent of Afghanistan's GDP. Since late 2021, the U.S. Treasury has allowed Afghans here to send money home despite sanctions. These remittances reduce the burden on American taxpayers and support Afghan families in crisis.
Beyond these strategic benefits, there is the moral argument. Doing right by those who stood with America is a matter of national honor. The way a nation treats its allies — especially when they are vulnerable — says everything about its values. These Afghans risked everything for us. Abandoning them now is a betrayal.
Trump began the withdrawal process. Biden finished it. Now, Trump has a rare second chance to do the right thing. His administration can correct a serious moral and strategic failure by reversing the decision to revoke Temporary Protected Status for Afghan nationals and instead prioritizing their protection.
Rather than forcing them to leave, the U.S. should expedite visa processing and safe relocation for Afghan allies. This isn't just about compassion — it's about keeping our word, protecting our interests and preparing for the future.
Luke Coffey is a senior fellow at Hudson Institute.