Honour and Hospitality: How Pashtunwali Shaped the Taliban’s Dealings with the World

The Ancient Code That Guides the Pashtuns aka Pashtunwali

In the rugged valleys of eastern Afghanistan, where time seems to stand still, there exists a powerful code of life called Pashtunwali. It is not written in law books or constitutions, yet it governs millions. For the Pashtun people—Afghanistan’s largest ethnic group—this ancient code defines how to act with honor, courage, and respect.

The key values?

• Melmastiya (hospitality)
• Nanawatay (asylum and forgiveness)
• Gherat (moral courage)
• Nang (honor)
• Jirga (tribal council)
• Hujra (communal guest space)

These are not just concepts. They are lived truths. And when the Taliban first took power in 1996, they brought these cultural values with them—sometimes in ways the world did not expect.

Osama bin Laden and the Guest Who Could Not Be Returned

After the 9/11 attacks in 2001, the world demanded that the Taliban hand over Osama bin Laden, who was hiding in Afghanistan. The U.S. gave an ultimatum. But the Taliban said no.

Why? Because bin Laden, they argued, was a melma—a guest.

Under melmastiya, hospitality is sacred. Once a guest is in your home, you protect him. Under nanawatay, even a person accused of wrongdoing must be granted forgiveness or safety if he asks for it. To betray a guest would be a betrayal of nang—the deepest form of dishonor in Pashtun culture.

So while the world saw refusal and defiance, many Afghans saw loyalty to tradition. The Taliban offered a compromise: they would hand him to a neutral Muslim country if evidence was provided. But by then, the U.S. was already preparing to invade.

Decision-Making the Pashtun Way: Jirga and Hujra

In tribal life, big decisions are not made alone. They are made in the hujra, where men gather to talk, eat, and debate. They are finalized in the jirga, a tribal council that uses consensus to settle disputes.

The Taliban leadership mirrored this system. Senior members consulted with tribal elders and religious clerics in private gatherings. Their style of decision-making was not based on presidential orders—it was based on collective consent, shaped by tradition and religion.

To many outsiders, this appeared opaque. But in rural Afghanistan, it was the way things had always been done.

Taliban 2.0: A Return to the Old, with a Modern Mask

When the Taliban returned to power in 2021, they promised change. But very quickly, familiar cultural themes re-emerged.

Women were restricted again. Foreigners were viewed with suspicion. Traditional justice replaced formal courts in many areas. Why? Because in their eyes, Pashtunwali is not just culture—it is identity.

Jirgas were revived to solve local problems. The hujra became the real seat of power again, not parliament. Rules around dress, behavior, and gender were defended as acts of gherat—moral strength in the face of Western values.

But not all Afghans agreed.

The Limits of Tradition in a Changing World

Critics of the Taliban say that Pashtunwali, when mixed with extreme ideology, becomes dangerous. For example, hospitality was extended to bin Laden, but not to minority groups. Women were removed from public life, though traditional hujras once welcomed female voices in some communities.

Even the jirga, once a symbol of justice, has at times become a rubber stamp for strict decrees.

Younger generations now ask:

• Can nang mean educating girls, not hiding them?
• Can melmastiya mean hosting refugees, not extremists?
• Can the jirga work with democracy, instead of replacing it?

These are not small questions. They are questions about the future of Afghan identity.

The Bigger Picture: Culture as Both Shield and Sword

In refusing to hand over bin Laden, the Taliban showed the power—and limits—of cultural loyalty. They chose tradition over cooperation, and the price was war. But in their minds, they were preserving nang and gherat in the face of global pressure.

Today, as the world watches Afghanistan rebuild—or unravel—the real tension lies not only in politics or religion. It lies in culture.

Can the values of Pashtunwali coexist with international norms of justice, gender equality, and peace? Or will they remain a code meant for hills, not cities?

Afghanistan’s future may depend on the answer.

Author's Note:

This story is not an endorsement of Taliban policies. It is an attempt to understand the cultural forces that shape their decisions and how an ancient tribal code still shapes the choices of modern leaders.

Understanding culture is not the same as accepting injustice—but it is a vital step toward lasting peace.