Another Look at Fundamentalism: Is Afghanistan Here? (Column 409)

With God’s help

Disclaimer: This post was translated from Hebrew using AI (ChatGPT 5 Thinking), so there may be inaccuracies or nuances lost. If something seems unclear, please refer to the Hebrew original or contact us for clarification.

In these turbulent days, a horrifying process is unfolding in Afghanistan to which most of us are indifferent. Beyond identifying with the unfortunate people there, these events naturally stir in me broader reflections that are hard to escape, and I wish to share them with you.

Background

Following the events of 9/11, the Americans entered Afghanistan in the early 2000s as part of their war against al-Qaeda. Since then, for some twenty years, they have invested enormous sums, energy, and manpower (to date, about $830 billion!!!) in order to build a more sane governmental and cultural system, and to help defend against the fundamentalist Muslim forces (including the Taliban) that threaten these processes.[1]

The Americans did not come as an occupying force. Their plan from the outset was to strike al-Qaeda, help the locals establish a reasonable regime, then leave Afghanistan to its residents and go. Indeed, in recent years the Americans decided on—and have been implementing—a gradual withdrawal from Afghanistan, although I don’t think any of them believes their goal was actually achieved; that is, that what they built there is stable and independently sustainable by the Afghans themselves. It is no wonder that this withdrawal became more hasty in recent days and turned into a hysterical flight. Two days ago I read a debate among experts about whether the Taliban’s conquest of Afghanistan and its capital Kabul would take a few months or a few weeks. The next day it was reported that the presidential palace had been taken and the president had fled. The images of frightened civilians trying to cling to the wings of planes taking off from Kabul—and falling to their deaths—recall, not coincidentally, the American flight from Iran and from Vietnam, and to some extent also the IDF’s withdrawal from Lebanon (there too it was done out of fear of Muslim terror).

I think about the sane Afghan citizen and what he feels these days, and it horrifies me (well, it’s Elul!!). He knows that within days women will not be able to leave home without the accompaniment of a husband, father, or older brother; that they will have no rights; that a terrorist regime will be imposed and opponents will be put to death (see, for example, in Khaled Hosseini’s books and many others); and all this is descending upon him right now as he watches helplessly. There is nothing he can do to stop it. Pure despair.

One last point in the background section is that the Russians—who have fewer inhibitions and less commitment to moral and political rules of the game than the Americans—also failed in Afghanistan. The Taliban was established as a continuation of the mujahideen organization that opposed the Soviet occupation, and at the time it even received massive American aid, of course (cf. “Hezbollah.” The resemblance is almost perfect. And the lesson: don’t rely on fundamentalists who happen at this moment to be on your side). After the Soviet withdrawal, and another little civil war of a few years, the first Taliban regime in Afghanistan was established (1992). It fell with the American invasion in the early 2000s, and is now being re-established. In other words, this is a chronicle of a failure foretold, similar to Hitler’s invasion of Russia (who also failed to learn from Napoleon).

A Thought Experiment

Comparisons to other places and phenomena are inevitable. It seems to me that not only secular people are asking themselves these days what would happen if armed and violent fundamentalist forces were to rise up and try to take over Israel by force in order to impose our Jewish sharia (that is, their interpretation of halakhah). I am not saying this is realistic right now, and I am also not equating the Haredi and Hardal parties with the Taliban (though there are certainly certain lines of similarity). But this is a thought experiment—albeit a hypothetical one—that is hard to avoid these days. What would we do? What would we feel in the face of such a process? If, following such a takeover, halakhic laws were imposed here and Sabbath desecrators and heretics were put to death; if those who eat non-kosher were flogged; if all non-Jews were expelled and their property confiscated; if women could neither vote nor be elected, nor hold public office, and perhaps not even leave home at all. Not to mention democracy, freedom to hold and express opinions, and to choose ways of conduct in any field whatsoever. And what about the attitude toward non-Jews and their culture: would we permit churches and Christian worship in the Holy Land?!

It’s easy to escape all this by saying that “here it can’t happen” and that “we are not like them” (do Haredim or Hardalim support killing anyone?! or prevent women from leaving home?!). But despite the differences, such reflections have value for two main reasons: 1) It is an interesting thought experiment, even if hypothetical. After all, something like it could also happen here. 2) The outcomes I described—or at least some of them—are the utopian model in the eyes of some Haredim and Hardalim, even if not in the eyes of all. Moreover, we should remember that even those who in practice don’t behave that way at home may believe that “our hand is not strong” and constraints require deviation from our sacred heritage—but their utopia is still that. From time to time, statements in these directions do make it into the public square in our parts (“k’vodah bat-melech,” etc.). Very few Haredim (national-religious or otherwise) will say outright that the rabbinic and biblical rules were not intended, in principle, for application in our times—not just as a temporary compromise with the constraints of reality (“our hand is not strong.” In Arabic: hudna). How many of them will say that when halakhic rule returns we will not execute Sabbath desecrators or adulterers, or that punishments are intended only for those who believe and yet transgress, not for those coerced or ignorant (see on this site the debates with my views on these matters). The concept of a “tinok shenishbah” (a child captured among non-Jews) is, for many, far from covering the typical secular person, since they tie it to knowledge (halakhic and Torah) rather than to awareness (that all this is binding).

On the other hand, I actually belong to those who believe that when authority and power are in the hands of these fundamentalist forces, they themselves will develop the creative and flexible interpretations that they so strongly oppose these days. It’s easy to oppose all this from the armchair, when it’s not feasible and the responsibility is not yours. When you will have to stone Sabbath desecrators, run an economy (without interest) and foreign policy (not on Shabbat), or forgo a large portion of your GDP (because women cannot engage in various fields), or when you’ll have to contend with the world over your attitude to churches and non-Jews, to LGBTQ people and other minorities with different views—I assume we will hear different tunes from them themselves. I believe and hope that, unlike the extreme Islamist parties that advocate practical implementation of their radicalism, among Jews (even the fundamentalists among them) responsibility and authority will bring moderation and creativity. It’s easy to be a fundamentalist when you are sitting in the study hall and dealing in abstractions, without being obligated and responsible for their practical applications and consequences. And yet I think a reflective look at ourselves as we appear from the outside—as if we were a kind of Taliban—is an interesting thought experiment and a good opportunity to do it.

From here on I will leave this thought experiment and spell out a few points for reflection that occur to me upon hearing the descriptions coming from there to here. All of them, of course, also have broader implications—most of which I have already addressed in the past—so here I will merely note them briefly.

Can One Rely on the West?

A first lesson that emerges is that I would not rely on the West for anything. In the end, it is unwilling to fight and lacks the resolve required to win. In the end, the Western-democratic side gives up and fundamentalism wins (at least in the short term). Western countries can fight Israel on cultural and financial fronts. They can fund liberal and anti-Zionist organizations and act with democratic or pseudo-democratic tools to change Israel’s character. But that is their wisdom against a democratic state. Against fundamentalism, it doesn’t really work (despite the claims of Western dominance and colonialism). There, the war requires resolve and not-simple costs—costs that democracies are not eager to pay.

So it is with reliance on the US in Iraq and in the Arab Spring in general. So it was in Vietnam and in Iran, so it was with the SLA in our Lebanon, and so it is with our collaborators in the various arenas. The State of Israel, like the USA, is a broken reed to lean on—at least as long as they have no direct interest there. It is not recommended to rely on altruistic actions by democratic states (such as UN and US guarantees for our agreements with our neighbors). It is important to remember, however, that even the USSR—which is hardly a Western democracy—did not succeed in Afghanistan and fled with its tail between its legs (1979–89). It seems there is something here beyond West vs. East or the ills of democracy.

Do the Afghans Really Want This?

Locals have an inherent advantage over foreign forces, so the outcome of such a struggle depends quite a bit on what the locals want. We tend to feel that Afghans surely do not want Taliban rule, but perhaps that is just wishful thinking or a projection of our own feelings onto the Afghans (we wouldn’t want it, but they need not feel the same). There are indeed voices of sane Afghan citizens expressing deep distress and opposition to Islamic rule, but perhaps that is a minority convenient for us to film and hang our hopes on. On the face of it, there seems to be a broad popular desire in Afghanistan for Islamic rule. At the very least, it is clear that those who want this rule are far more determined than those who don’t, and it is certainly not a negligible minority.

Beyond that, the enlightened Afghan citizen—even if he truly exists in non-negligible numbers—apparently is not willing to fight (we saw how the “fighting” proceeded in recent days). It’s convenient for them that the Americans do it for them. Sophisticated equipment and an army are of no use when morale is down and there is no motivation. No one will do the work for you if you won’t do it yourself (“you shall surely help with him”). We must remember that in Afghanistan this involves bands of rebels versus an organized army equipped with superpower support; and, remarkably, it is the army that gives up and retreats without a fight. Whoever is not willing to fight for himself should not expect others to do so for him.

It is not for nothing that I highlighted here two considerations: the number of opponents and their determination. The “will” of the public is an undefined matter—everyone wants something else. Therefore, what we call public will is essentially a weighted result of how many people want something, the intensity of their desire, and their willingness to pay prices to realize it. These are the two aspects I mentioned above. On this weighted comparison it is clearly the Taliban and their supporters who have the upper hand; therefore, for me, that is apparently what the Afghan public wants. I don’t buy the claim that it’s all the result of violence and threats. Those do not hold up over time, certainly not against an organized army and a significant institutional force. There is apparently a broad and strong popular infrastructure (in numbers and determination) upon which those threats and acts of violence are based.

A Craze for Authenticity

There may also be a phenomenon there of following authenticity. I have written here before that in our society as well it is very hard for the Haredi and the Hardal communities to oppose fringe phenomena even when they oppose them. Take, for example, the “Shawl Women” or the Hilltop Youth. The fact is that an overwhelming majority of rabbis and the religious public in general oppose those phenomena, yet you will not find a war to the knife against them. The reason is that those phenomena push to the extreme the genuine ideals of the society in question. How can one come out against those who courageously and authentically realize the values (modesty, return to tradition and the past, extreme and uncompromising obedience to the dictates of tradition, fear of Heaven, and a willingness to pay prices and not fear mockery—per the Rema at the beginning of Orach Chayim) upon which we ourselves educate and have raised them? Even if in our view these values are not implementable nowadays, such conduct is perceived (by us as well) as a necessary compromise—or an inevitable concession that is not to be condemned—while the ideal remains intact. One who acts to realize the ideal cannot be presented as a criminal, and it is very hard to fight him.

This may also be the reason for the charm of fundamentalism in the eyes of Muslims. Even if the vast majority do not think it should be implemented in practice, and perhaps are also afraid of it and of the prices it exacts from each person, it is still the ideal by which they educate. So how can they fight it?! If someone bravely and honestly takes the task upon himself, and is no longer willing to be a “Mizrachnik” who compromises with reality, he wins the identification—or at least the sympathy—of the entire public. This is a good opportunity for all the “Mizrachnikim,” or the bourgeois balabatim, to join him and finally realize their values authentically, or at least to back those who do. Perhaps this is also the reason for the Afghan weakness in fighting the Taliban.

Only if people and leaders are willing to declare loud and clear that this is no longer the ideal—that is, to be perceived as those who come out against tradition (or against a fossilized conception of tradition that refuses to acknowledge a necessary change and the improvement of generations, as opposed to the traditional dogma of decline)—and not content themselves with limp statements that reality forces us to compromise (“our hand is not strong”), will there be a chance to fight these extreme phenomena. Loyalty to tradition, even if only declarative, is what prevents us from winning such battles—not only in Afghanistan but also in Israel.

On Fundamentalism

Time and again we find that fundamentalist positions are more determined and resolute. This is not a logical-philosophical necessity, but it is certainly a psychological phenomenon. When a person believes with complete faith in something, he is willing to fight for it and pay prices, and therefore he is more likely to win. A person who believes in his path moderately and is willing to understand that there are other positions, and that he is not necessarily right, will usually have less determination and willingness to fight. Again, there is no philosophical necessity here. I would expect even those who hold moderate positions to be willing to fight for their way and pay prices. But psychologically it is hard—and as a matter of fact, it doesn’t really happen. Even if there are sane Afghans, they are not willing to fight for their way, and it is no wonder they are defeated. So it is in our parts as well.

As an aside, I will add that in my assessment liberal terror—about which I have spoken here more than once—is also a result of recognizing this frustrating phenomenon. Liberals see that they are losing every struggle against fundamentalism, and therefore adopt a fundamentalist approach and wage an uncompromising fight against fundamentalism (contrary to their own declared conception). There is even a name for this today: “defensive democracy.” As long as liberal forces did not adopt such a stance, they were doomed to repeated defeats, and again, this is due to psychological constraints rather than a philosophical necessity.

It is important here to distinguish between two kinds of liberalism. There is positive (synthetic) liberalism, which derives from belief in this value. And there is negative (analytic) liberalism, which derives from the absence of beliefs (postmodernism). The latter truly cannot philosophically justify forceful struggle and is therefore destined, in the end, to be defeated. My remarks thus far are directed at the first kind of liberalism. It is an entirely synthetic position, and there is no philosophical barrier to its conducting itself with the same determination as any other belief. Incidentally, this determination is itself a diagnostic criterion: if you see a determined group—its liberalism is likely synthetic-positive. A lack of determination stems from analytic-negative liberalism, that is, merely a desire for “the good life,” and that’s all.

I think synthetic liberalism succeeds in winning hearts because analytic seekers of the good life also hitch a ride on its wagon. They adopt liberalism as a value, and thus there is an appearance of a broad group. But the liberal avant-garde—the positive kind—is probably rather small. In Afghanistan as well, I estimate that the number of those who truly believe in liberalism in a positive-synthetic way is quite limited. Most of those who join them are people who live within a Muslim ethos but are “Mizrachnikim” who are comfortable in the good life. They are Muslims in the closet who do not want a Muslim life because it is not convenient for them. Such people cannot defeat the force of ideological Islam.

The Responsibility of the Individual

A lone Afghan citizen—even if he is a clear-cut synthetic liberal willing to fight and pay prices—cannot do anything by himself to stop these processes. Therefore, such a citizen is not to blame for what is happening there. He suffers without guilt. When I said that the Afghans are responsible for what is happening there because no one is supposed to do the work for them, apparently I sinned against such a person. What could he have done?

In Column 67 I addressed the fallacy in that claim. The conduct of Afghan society is the sum of the decisions of all its members. Even the most violent power rests on the good remaining silent. Edmund Burke said that for evil to triumph, all that is needed is for good people to sit quietly. In that column I pointed out that even if an individual citizen can do nothing, and even if he is afraid to begin gathering around him a group of activists—since anyone who acts is in tangible life-threatening danger (if he turns to another person to join him, he may encounter an informant or an enemy who will lead to his death)—the Afghan reality is made possible only because each citizen separately makes that (correct) calculation.

In this context I distinguished between guilt and responsibility (see in that column and also in Column 283). My claim is that such a person is not guilty, because I too would probably not do more than he—but nevertheless the responsibility lies with him. There is no one else upon whom responsibility for the conduct of Afghan society can be placed other than the Afghans themselves. The implications for us are clear. Many of us feel that religious conduct is unworthy, but tell themselves they have no strength to act. They are not leaders, and if they act they will gain a reputation as heretics, and that fear paralyzes them (of course without comparing to the situation in Afghanistan; the logic is similar, but the intensity and the costs are completely different). I will not enter that debate here, since all of that has already been discussed in my columns there.

The Mentality Problem

Another point that arises here is the question of the flawed mentality-culture of Muslims (mainly Arabs, but not only). It may not be politically correct to say so, but it is hard to ignore the fact that there is no Arab state—and almost no Muslim state—that functions in a normal way. They do not succeed in creating democracy, though that could perhaps be ascribed to opposition to the democratic model. But they do not succeed in running a normal state by any yardstick, even without democracy. As far as I know, there is not a single Arab state that is run reasonably (and even if there is, then it is about one, and its mode of operation is at best “reasonable”). The number of Muslim Nobel laureates is some indication. The violent and extreme fringes ultimately set the tone there. In the Iranian revolt against the Shah—who was a violent dictator—what took over was extreme Shi‘ite Islam. In the Arab Spring, there were uprisings against local dictators, in part out of more liberal and modern motivations, but in most cases the matter ultimately collapsed back toward the extreme-radical-Islamic direction, and even if not—apparently the struggle is not over yet and it may revert to that. It gives the impression that there is something broken in Arab culture and mentality (and in Muslim culture in general).

This of course does not mean that all Arabs or Muslims are bad or stupid—not even most of them. The counter-claim that arises almost automatically against positions like those I have expressed here hinges on this: after all, all human beings are equally intelligent; we are all human; not all Palestinians are terrorists or supporters of terror; etc., etc. But those who raise these (in my view, correct) claims do not notice that this is a claim to the contrary. Precisely because I accept the claims that in every society there are good and bad people, and wise and less wise—this only heightens the question: why in these particular states/societies is the situation so problematic? The obvious answer is likely rooted in the mental-cultural plane.

Culture and mentality have a tremendous impact on a society’s success, far beyond the traits of the individuals themselves (which, as noted, I think are distributed rather similarly across most societies). The US succeeds not because it is a collection of geniuses, but because they established a society and built a culture and mentality that lead them to success. Incidentally, that is also why the successful from around the world join them. By contrast, the Palestinians managed to build a dysfunctional society that always ends up reverting to violence and terror. They always shoot themselves in the foot and thwart any possibility of progress. It is no coincidence that there is migration from Asia and Africa to Europe, and not the other way around. I think there is no escaping the conclusion that their mentality and culture are flawed (in part, apparently, because of Islam).

Among Jews the situation appears better—not necessarily because of the religious, but perhaps because there are other foundations in the Jewish people that temper them and lead the wagon. I do not always like this, but I am certainly grateful that this is the case. It may be that our religious conceptions and culture—at least in depth (because on the surface it does not always look so)—enable this, which does not happen in the Muslim/Arab world. Many have already noted that, in a certain sense, politically correct discourse does not really help repair and in many cases even hinders it. When you are forbidden to articulate the problem and acknowledge it—you cannot solve it.

Are They Wicked?

Are those Taliban people wicked? Not necessarily. They act violently and harm the innocent, but they do so because, to the best of their understanding, this is the religious commandment imposed upon them. I have noted this more than once (see Column 372 and many more). A person’s moral judgment should be evaluated according to his own framework. That does not mean we are forbidden to defend ourselves against such harmful people, but judging them as human beings is not necessarily toward malice. Precisely because of that, however, the struggle against them is harder. It is relatively easy to face and fight the wicked. But if I respect the person before me, it is hard to fight him. Again, this is a psychological difficulty more than a philosophical one. On the philosophical level, there is no intrinsic problem with self-defense, even without punishment. One who is not wicked does not deserve punishment—but I am not wicked either, and I have the right to defend myself against him. I have already noted above the independence between guilt and responsibility.

At the same time, it is important to add the following point. In Columns 273 and 372 I mentioned a conversation I had with Arab students at Ort Ramla High School. I told them that reliance on leaders—religious or secular—on thinkers, and on sources is the mother of all sin. If responsibility is placed on the individual—even if he is not learned and not a leader—it brings better results, and it is also more correct. A person is responsible for what he does, and the claim that “the leader instructed me,” or that “this is the word of Allah” (from the mouth of the caliph or the Admor, may he live long) is not an exemption. Therefore, even if the religious leader says this is God’s will or Allah’s will, that does not absolve the listener of guilt; and even if it did, it certainly does not absolve him of responsibility. Bottom line, responsibility for actions falls on those who do them and also on those who do not prevent them. Therefore, even if you are not wicked, the responsibility is still yours.

Is There Value in Coercing One Who Does Not Believe?

One last point, which does not deal with Islamic theology but returns to fears of similar phenomena in the Jewish context. I wish to pose this theological question to believers (Jews and in general): is there religious value in establishing a halakhic state that coerces religious conduct on all its citizens? We are used to thinking yes (“we compel [people] regarding commandments”), but I have often argued in the past that, in my opinion, the answer is no. In the previous column I noted that commandments are supposed to be fulfilled out of commitment to the divine command; therefore, if that commitment does not exist, there is no point in coercion. Moreover, I argue that even if one coerces, a person who thus “fulfills” commandments has not fulfilled a commandment (see here). I have often claimed that the rule of coercing commandments applies to a person who understands his obligation but is a “Mizrachnik.” One can coerce someone who does not fulfill a commandment due to desires, interests, or simply a wish for a comfortable life. But a person who does not recognize his obligation is a “tinok shenishbah” (if not more than that), and there is no rule—and no logic—to coerce religious conduct upon him.[2]

If we recognize that there is no value in establishing such a coercive state, then we will also not aspire to establish it, and the problem of contending with fundamentalism will not arise. This is already an argument for internal handling—that is, from within the religious community—which must understand that fundamentalism is not correct. This contrasts with the discussion in the previous sections, which dealt with fighting from the outside; that is, how to fight fundamentalist forces and defeat them. This also explains why this column is written as if from a liberal-secular perspective, even though I belong to the religious community (albeit a heretic, as is known). On this matter I am entirely with liberal secularists, and the takeover of religious fundamentalism frightens me no less—and perhaps more—than it frightens them.

[1] Many have already quipped that the best advice for someone in dire economic straits is to start a war against the USA. After he loses, they will invest enormous sums to restore him to his prior state and rebuild his economy and army. Tried and tested.

[2] It follows that, in the halakhic conception (and also logically), the traditionalist is a far greater offender than the atheist. He knows his Master and rebels against Him, while the latter does not know Him at all. For some reason, the common attitude toward these two groups is the reverse. Traditionalist Shas voters are the “faithful of Israel,” while atheists who vote Meretz, Shinui, and Liberman are criminals and offenders. In my view, the reality is exactly the opposite.