The U.S. drone strike that killed Ayman al-Zawahri in Kabul on Sunday caught the Taliban leadership both red-handed and flat-footed. Their promises to prevent the country from once again becoming a terrorist haven have been exposed as lies: The al-Qaida leader was living in the Afghan capital, reportedly in a house belonging to a top Taliban leader.
Three days after the killing, the Taliban was still struggling to formulate a response. That might be because Haibatullah Akhundzada, the Taliban’s supreme commander, and his leadership team, recognize both the opportunity and the challenge presented by al-Zawahri’s killing.
As the militant group prepares to celebrate the first anniversary of its return to power after the U.S. military pullout last summer, its goal of securing international recognition as Afghanistan’s legitimate rulers remains unfulfilled. Their pariah status makes it nearly impossible for the Taliban government to manage the country’s economy, which was propped up by foreign aid until the U.S. withdrawal last summer.
The economic crisis has only deepened in recent months. Afghanistan is reeling from the effects of its worst drought in two decades. A recent report by the U.S. Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction reckons 70% of households are “unable to cover basic food and non-food needs.”
If Akhundzada can now restrain his own fighters, as well as al-Qaida operatives in the country, from responding with violence, it might strengthen the leadership’s claim that that they aren’t the Taliban of old. In turn, this would make it easier for the international community to do business with Afghanistan, smoothing the way for much-needed humanitarian aid and some support for the shattered economy.
But many in the Taliban will view the killing of al-Zawahri as a national affront, and the clamor for revenge will likely grow louder in the days ahead. Akhundzada will be especially watchful of Sirajuddin Haqqani, the most powerful of his deputies and al-Qaida’s main Afghan patron — and owner of the house in which al-Zawahri was hiding out.
Probably the most anti-American of all the Taliban’s leaders, Haqqani is designated a terrorist by the U.S.; the Federal Bureau of Investigation has a long-standing $10 million reward “for information leading directly” to his arrest. (The price on al-Zawahri’s head was $25 million.) His eponymous network of fighters, the most powerful cohort within the Taliban, is more loyal to him than to the supreme commander.
Reining in his most ferocious attack dogs won’t be easy for Akhundzada. Haqqani may argue that, as al-Zawahri’s host, he is obliged to avenge the killing of his guest. (The Taliban leadership puts much store in ancient tribal rules of hospitality: For years, the group cited those traditions when rejecting calls for the expulsion of Osama bin Laden.)
But Akhundzada could counter that custom obliges guests to leave before they become too much of a burden on their hosts. He might even be able to use that argument to serve notice on other al-Qaida figures currently enjoying his hospitality. He can count on the support of the relatively moderate faction of the Taliban, led by Abdul Ghani Baradar, which has been chafing since being sidelined by Haqqani and his hardliners.
It should be easy enough for Akhundzada to make the case that retaliating for al-Zawahri’s killing would be against the interests of Afghanistan. But that is assuming the Taliban’s supreme commander places the welfare of his own people above that of his guests. He and his leadership team must know that Afghan eyes, as well those of the world, are on them.
