Turan Research Center

Taliban Acting Foreign Minister Amir Khan Muttaqi’s October visit to the Darul Uloom Deoband Islamic seminary in Uttar Pradesh, India, made history. Crowds gathered in large numbers to glimpse the visiting dignitary, showering him with flower petals and vying for selfies, forcing organizers to cancel a planned public event amid fears of a stampede. For Deoband, the visit symbolized an unexpected reunion with Afghanistan’s religious elite—Muttaqi referred to the seminary as the “Madar-e-Ilmi” or Mother of Knowledge. For New Delhi, however, it represented something more nuanced: the latest chapter in India’s cautious engagement with the Taliban, even as it continues to withhold official recognition.

Founded in 1866, the Darul Uloom Deoband seminary gave rise to the Deobandi movement, a Sunni revivalist current emphasizing orthodox, fundamentalist Islam. Its teachings spread across South and Central Asia, shaping religious education in the region—especially in Afghanistan. Many of the Taliban’s founding members, including Mullah Omar, were educated in Deobandi seminaries, making the movement an ideological precursor to the Taliban’s interpretation of Islam.

Muttaqi’s stop in Deoband encapsuled both continuity and change. It reflected the enduring cultural and educational ties that have long connected India and Afghanistan, while signaling a shift in India’s approach to a movement it once solely viewed as a threat. Ironically, the same Deobandi school of thought that India once feared as a source of radicalization has now become a diplomatic bridge between New Delhi and Kabul.

India’s outreach to the Taliban is driven by necessity. It reflects a calibrated adjustment in New Delhi’s regional strategy following the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan. The Taliban seek legitimacy, stability, and foreign investment; India seeks to preserve influence in Kabul, prevent Pakistan and China from monopolizing engagement with the regime, and minimize the threat of cross-border terrorism emanating from Afghan soil. These objective converge in limited ways but are underpinned by deep mistrust, making the relationship pragmatic yet inherently uneasy.

During the Taliban’s first period in power between 1996 and 2001, New Delhi adopted a position of categorical opposition, backing the anti-Taliban Northern Alliance, closing its embassy in Kabul, and refusing any form of engagement. India viewed the Taliban as an extension of Pakistan’s security apparatus, and incidents such as the 1999 hijacking of Indian Airlines flight IC-814 en route to New Delhi but forced to land in in Kandahar, only deepened the animosity.

Following the U.S.-led intervention in 2001, India emerged as one of the nascent Afghan Republic’s largest regional donors, investing  in infrastructure, schools, hospitals, and public institutions. Yet the Taliban and associated groups continued to target Indian projects and personnel, most notably in the 2008 and 2009  in Kabul and the 2021 killing of Indian photojournalist Danish Siddiqui.

India’s Cautious Return to Kabul

When the Taliban regained power in August 2021, India, like most countries, closed its embassy, evacuated its diplomats, and adopted a wait-and-see posture. New Delhi’s immediate concern was that  (JeM) — the latter is thought to be responsible for the recent terrorist attack on a bus stop in New Delhi — would exploit Afghan territory to mount attacks in Jammu and Kashmir. Yet what followed defied early expectations. Relations between the Taliban and Pakistan deteriorated, and Kabul’s new rulers began quietly sending signals of interest in engaging with India — seeking to reduce dependence on Islamabad.

Sensing an opening, India moved to reestablish a limited presence in Afghanistan to avoid isolation. It began by sending humanitarian aid, including wheat, medicines, and earthquake relief supplies, and reopened a “technical mission” in Kabul in 2022. Indian officials have described this policy as “pragmatic engagement” as opposed to friendship.

Four interlocking factors explain this shift.

First, the U.S. withdrawal created a geopolitical vacuum that China and Pakistan were quick to exploit. Had India remained disengaged, it would have ceded strategic space to both rivals.

Second, the Taliban’s new leadership — often referred to as Taliban 2.0 — has shown more interest in international legitimacy and economic engagement. They have repeatedly that Afghan soil will not be used for terrorism against other countries, including India. Whether Kabul can deliver on these assurances remains uncertain, but the statements themselves mark a departure from the public hostility of the 1990s.

Third, India’s own regional calculus has evolved. Policymakers in New Delhi now recognize that total disengagement from Afghanistan strengthens Pakistan’s hand. Maintaining even minimal channel of communication allows India to monitor developments and respond with greater flexibly to emerging threats.

Fourth, Afghanistan is gradually emerging as a bridge between India and Central Asia, connecting the regions through a land corridor. Bilateral trade between New Delhi and Central Asia totaled $1 billion as of March 2025. Both sides are also exploring the expanded use of Iran’s Chabahar Port, developed by India as an alternative trade route that bypasses Pakistan. The ports  has further enhanced its strategic utility. 

From Kabul’s perspective, engagement with India offers several advantages. It provides diplomatic balance at a time of strained relations with Pakistan, lends a measure of legitimacy to the Taliban government, and helps attract international attention. Facing a severe economic crisis, the Taliban are desperate to attract trade, aid, and investment. India’s track record in development assistance and its experience in infrastructure makes it an attractive partner, even without formal recognition.

For India, the logic is equally compelling. Maintaining a presence in Kabul allows it to counter the growing influence of Pakistan and China, to safeguard earlier investments, and preserve direct channels of communication that may prove vital in managing future security risks.

Engagement with the Taliban also gives India a means to observe and, where possible, influence internal dynamics within the organization. The Taliban are not monolithic: some factions, particularly the Haqqani network, remain closely aligned with Pakistan’s intelligence services, while others seek greater independence. By engaging various actors, India can test the sincerity of Taliban commitments and subtly encourage nationalist elements resistant to external control. The strategy is risky, but total disengagement would leave India blind in a region that directly affects its security.

Pakistan, China, and the Regional Chessboard

Pakistan remains the unavoidable shadow in this story. Historically, Islamabad has and resented any Indian presence there. Yet since 2021, relations between Islamabad and Kabul have soured dramatically. Pakistan accuses the Taliban of harboring the Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP), responsible for attacks on Pakistani targets. The Taliban deny the charge and, in turn, accuse Pakistan of violating Afghan sovereignty through repeated attacks. These tensions have led to border clashes and artillery exchanges, creating one of the most violent phases in the two countries’ modern history. Against this backdrop, India’s quiet diplomacy has gained room to maneuver. Every time Kabul defies Islamabad, New Delhi’s relevance increases.

Yet, a deeper Indian footprint in Afghanistan could provoke Pakistan’s security establishment to retaliate through covert means —by encouraging proxy attacks, spreading disinformation, or targeting Indian interests on Afghan soil. Meanwhile, China’s growing presence adds a further layer of complexity. Beijing has signed major contracts with the Taliban, including a reported in the Amu Darya basin, granting it leverage that India cannot easily match. Any serious deterioration in India-China relations could spill over into the Afghan theater, turning Afghanistan once again into a chessboard for rival powers.

The Limits of Engagement

Despite these challenges, practical cooperation between India and the Taliban is slowly expanding. India has announced plans to reopen its embassy in Kabul and increase flights. Additionally, New Delhi continues to provide Kabul with humanitarian aid. Discussions are underway on restarting scholarships for Afghan students and allowing limited trade in medical goods and agricultural produce. These steps stop short of recognition but mark a transition from symbolic contact to functional engagement.

Meanwhile, New Delhi remains acutely aware of the moral and political limits of this engagement. The Taliban’s record on women’s rights, education, and freedom remains deeply troubling. Reports of restrictions on girls’ schooling, the exclusion of women from public life, and episodes such as Taliban press conferences in India that initially barred female journalists have drawn sharp criticism from civil society. For a democracy that prides itself on pluralism and gender equality, any perceived complicity with such practices risk reputational damage. Balancing national interest with moral responsibility will therefore remain a barrier to cooperation.

Balancing Realism and Restraint

Security concerns are one of the largest drivers of India’s engagement with the Taliban. Terrorist networks such as LeT and JeM continue to operate in the region, with reports of active training camps in Afghanistan. Factional struggles within the Taliban could quickly undermine the fragile stability India has sought to build. Furthermore, as India expands its engagement with the Taliban, it may have to explain its position both domestically and to international partners. At home, moral concerns may arise as well as apprehension over the Taliban’s links to terror groups hostile to India. Internationally, especially among Western partners who were involved in Afghanistan for two decades, India may be asked to clarify how its outreach fits into broader policy commitments.

A steady, incremental engagement remains India’s best option. Reopening the embassy should be followed by verifiable steps: ensuring the safety of embassy personnel, monitoring extremist activity, and protecting aid projects from political interference. Expanding humanitarian cooperation and educational exchanges strengthen goodwill among Afghan civilians without granting political legitimacy to the Taliban.

Ultimately, India’s re-entry into Afghanistan represents neither a dramatic reversal nor a moral compromise— it is a recognition of reality. The Taliban regime is unlikely to disappear, and India cannot afford to ignore a neighbor whose politics and alignments directly affect its security. However, engagement does not equalendorsement.

The Deoband visit captures this paradox vividly. A movement once viewed entirely through the lens of extremism is now a partner, however tentative, in India’s regional strategy. The relationship will remain uneasy and conditional, tested continually by developments on the ground. But in a region where every vacuum invites interference and every retreat invites instability, India’s decision to stay engaged, even cautiously, may be the most practical way forward.

However, the Taliban should make sure that the Afghan soil will not again become a platform for anti-India terrorism, and if India can sustain engagement, this uneasy relationship could evolve into a limited but useful partnership. In a region where clean choices are rare, cautious engagement anchored in strategic realism may be the most reasonable path India can take.

Ratnadeep Chakraborty is pursuing his PhD at Tel Aviv University. He is the author of the book "The Evolution of Israel’s National Security Doctrine: A Journey from Ben-Gurion to Netanyahu" and hosts the podcast “Indian Eye on Israel.”