Our suffering doesn't amount to anything to them
In Brussels on a Tuesday morning, European Union officials met with Taliban representatives to discuss the deportation of Afghan migrants — a meeting that, by its very occurrence, raised questions older than any policy debate: what does it mean to engage with those who erase half a population from public life, and at what point does pragmatism become complicity? For five years, Afghan women and girls have lived under a system of systematic exclusion — barred from schools, workplaces, and public spaces — while the EU passed resolutions condemning it. Now, facing domestic pressure from a continent shifting rightward on immigration, those same institutions sat across a table from the architects of that exclusion, and the world's Afghan diaspora watched to see what that silence would cost them.
- EU officials met Taliban representatives in Brussels to negotiate deportation pathways, but the invitation letter referenced all undocumented Afghans — not just security threats — exposing a gap between public framing and actual intent that alarmed advocates and legal observers alike.
- Afghan women's rights leaders described the meeting as a fundamental betrayal, with Zan Times editor Zahra Nader calling it proof that five years of systematic persecution — no schooling past age eleven, expulsion from work and public life, institutionalized domestic violence — had been deemed insufficient to prevent engagement with the perpetrators.
- A UN report documented that Afghans already returned to the country by Pakistan and Iran faced arbitrary arrest, torture, and detention, while roughly forty percent of Afghanistan's population faces hunger — conditions that make deportation not a policy inconvenience but a potential death sentence.
- The meeting produced no official readout, was held at a secret venue, and may have included discussions of resuming consular services — steps that, regardless of EU disclaimers, amount to a creeping normalization of a regime practicing what the European Parliament itself has called systematic persecution.
- With far-right MEPs cheering 'send them back' after sweeping asylum policy changes passed in June, the Brussels meeting reflects a continent-wide hardening in which human rights commitments are being quietly subordinated to electoral pressure — and Afghan women are bearing the cost.
On a Tuesday morning in Brussels, EU officials sat down with Taliban representatives to discuss deporting Afghan migrants. By afternoon, the meeting had ignited fury across Europe, with Afghan women's rights advocates calling it a betrayal so deep it felt physical.
The official framing was narrow: the talks concerned returning individuals who posed security threats. But the invitation letter sent to Taliban officials referenced something broader — all undocumented Afghans in Europe. That gap mattered. The European Commission confirmed the meeting only after twenty member states demanded concrete deportation pathways, reflecting the hardening anti-immigration sentiment now dominant across much of the continent.
Since the Taliban's return to power in 2021, Afghan women and girls have lived under systematic persecution. Girls cannot attend school past age eleven. Women have been expelled from the job market and public spaces. A new marriage law has institutionalized domestic violence and child abuse. The European Parliament had passed consecutive resolutions condemning this as systematic persecution — yet here was the EU preparing to send people back into that reality.
The humanitarian stakes are severe. A UN report documented that Afghans returned by Pakistan and Iran faced arbitrary arrest, detention, and torture. Roughly forty percent of Afghanistan's population faces hunger. Zahra Nader, editor-in-chief of Zan Times — a newsroom-in-exile employing Afghan women journalists working undercover at personal risk — captured the anguish plainly: 'The EU is telling us that our suffering, being stripped of our most basic rights for five years, doesn't amount to anything.'
No official readout of the meeting was released. Even the venue was kept secret. But the Afghan delegation leader indicated discussions included possible resumptions of consular services — a step that would deepen EU engagement with the regime. EU officials insisted the meeting did not constitute recognition of the Taliban, but hosting a delegation in Brussels and issuing visas to its officials is normalization, whatever language surrounds it. The question of what the Taliban received in return — and what the diaspora communities already living in Europe might now face — remained unanswered.
On Tuesday morning in Brussels, European Union officials sat down with representatives of the Taliban. The meeting was meant to be about deportations—specifically, how to send Afghan migrants back to their country of origin more efficiently. By afternoon, the decision had ignited fury across Europe and beyond, with Afghan women's rights advocates describing it as a betrayal so fundamental it felt like a physical blow.
The talks centered on a deceptively simple framing: the EU would discuss returning people who posed security threats. But the invitation letter sent to Taliban officials referenced something broader—all undocumented Afghans living in Europe without legal status. That gap between the public explanation and the actual terms mattered enormously, and it was not lost on those paying attention. The European Commission had confirmed the meeting only after 20 member states demanded concrete pathways for deportation, a request that reflected the hardening anti-immigration sentiment now dominant across much of the continent.
For five years, since the Taliban's return to power in 2021 following the chaotic withdrawal of US and NATO forces, Afghan women and girls have lived under systematic persecution. Girls cannot attend school past age eleven. Women have been expelled from the job market and public spaces. A new marriage law has institutionalized domestic violence and child abuse. The European Parliament had passed consecutive resolutions condemning this oppression, calling it what it was: systematic persecution. Yet here was the EU, preparing to send people back into that reality.
The numbers tell part of the story. Between 2013 and 2024, EU member states received roughly one million asylum applications from Afghans, with about half approved. Germany hosts the largest Afghan community in the bloc. Many of these people fled after the Taliban's return, fearing reprisals for having worked with US and allied forces, or simply for opposing the regime's theocratic brutality. When the Taliban's return became imminent in 2021, EU countries had mobilized significant resources to evacuate embassy staff, journalists, human rights campaigners, and prominent women—people deemed at risk. Now, five years later, the same countries were preparing to reverse course.
The humanitarian reality on the ground in Afghanistan compounds the danger. A UN report from the previous year documented that Afghans returned to the country—most by Pakistan and Iran—had experienced arbitrary arrest, detention, torture, and ill treatment at the hands of authorities. Roughly forty percent of Afghanistan's population faces hunger. The country is not simply in a human rights crisis; it is in a humanitarian catastrophe. Sending people back meant sending them into conditions where survival itself was uncertain.
Zahra Nader, editor-in-chief of Zan Times, a newsroom-in-exile that employs Afghan women journalists working undercover at substantial personal risk, messaged her fury on the day of the meeting. "The EU is telling us that our suffering, being stripped of our most basic rights for five years now, doesn't amount to anything," she said. "That a regime can erase women from public life entirely, and still be worth sitting down with." She called it a complete disregard for human rights, especially painful coming from countries that claimed to champion women's rights when convenient, then abandoned that claim the moment it became inconvenient.
The broader context made the decision even more troubling. The European Parliament had shifted rightward in recent years, with a record number of far-right MEPs elected in 2024. In June, the parliament had passed sweeping updates to the EU migration and asylum pact that human rights organizations warned could facilitate what they called "ICE-style" detection, raids, detention, and offshore return practices. When the vote passed, right-wing MEPs had erupted in cheers and chants of "send them back," countered by progressive lawmakers shouting "shame on you." International law requires asylum cases to be considered individually, but what unfolded was group rejection dressed in bureaucratic language.
No official readout of the Brussels meeting was released. Even the venue had been kept secret. But the Afghan delegation leader indicated that discussions included possible resumptions of consular services—a step that would deepen the EU's engagement with the regime. The question hanging over everything was what the Taliban was receiving in return. Would the EU provide financial support? Would it legitimize the regime by issuing visas to Taliban officials, creating a safety risk for Afghan diaspora communities already living in Europe? EU officials insisted the meeting did not constitute recognition of the Taliban, but hosting a delegation in Brussels and issuing visas amounted to normalization regardless of what officials claimed. You cannot legitimize a regime's presence on the continent without legitimizing the regime itself.
Notable Quotes
The EU is telling us that our suffering, being stripped of our most basic rights for five years now, doesn't amount to anything. That a regime can erase women from public life entirely, and still be worth sitting down with.— Zahra Nader, editor-in-chief of Zan Times
It is a complete disregard for human rights, and it is especially painful coming from countries that claim to champion women's rights when it's convenient, and then abandon that claim the moment it isn't.— Zahra Nader, editor-in-chief of Zan Times
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does a diplomatic meeting about deportations matter so much to Afghan women specifically?
Because the women being deported face persecution that the EU itself has officially condemned. The Taliban has systematically erased women from public life—no schooling past eleven, no jobs, no presence in society. Sending someone back into that is not just a migration policy decision; it's a choice about whose suffering counts.
But the EU said the talks were only about people who pose security threats. Isn't that a reasonable distinction?
That's what they said publicly. But the invitation to the Taliban referenced all undocumented Afghans. Those are two very different things. One is a narrow security measure; the other is a blanket deportation policy. The gap between what was announced and what was actually proposed tells you something about the real intent.
What happens to someone deported back to Afghanistan right now?
A UN report documented that returned Afghans face arbitrary arrest, detention, torture. The country is in a humanitarian crisis—forty percent of the population is experiencing hunger. You're not sending someone to safety; you're sending them into conditions where basic survival is uncertain.
How does this fit into the broader shift in European politics?
The far right has gained real power in the European Parliament. In June, they passed migration policies that human rights groups compared to ICE raids. When the vote passed, right-wing MEPs literally chanted "send them back." The EU is allowing that rhetoric to set policy, and it's abandoning its own stated commitments to human rights in the process.
What does the Taliban get out of this meeting?
That's the question no one can answer officially. Possible consular services, legitimacy on the international stage, maybe financial support. But what's clear is that by hosting them in Brussels, by issuing visas, the EU is normalizing a regime it has spent years condemning. You can't do that without consequences for the diaspora communities already living in Europe.
Is there any pushback from within Europe itself?
Spain is an exception. Unlike most of Europe, it's having a facts-based conversation about migration's importance given demographic decline. But that's rare. Most of Europe is moving in the opposite direction—toward harder borders and fewer protections.