By Ananya Rana

“Audi alteram partem,” which translates to, “let the other side be heard,” is considered as one of the most important principles of natural justice. However, where Afghanistan is concerned, rather than hearing their story, the country is treated as a subject of commentary instead. Their stories are told, retold, and often distorted by the loudest microphones and agendas. These narratives dominate major public consciousness. Nonetheless, the major question is not about the media, or the public opinion,rather it is about who has the jurisdiction over narrative control in Afghanistan and who outlines its identity and future. After all, why are Afghan voicesleft in the footnotes of their own story? This is not just an academic or cultural problem but rather a jurisprudential problem which underscores values like representation, standing up for oneself, and having a voice.

A country more than a case study:

When one thinks of Afghanistan, the first thing that comes to mind is the crisis that the country faces. It isreduced to war, burqas, Taliban and bombs rather than being recognized as a place with ancient civilization and rich art and poetry . All these narratives are usually constructed by non-Afghans. It is portrayed through a geopolitical and authoritarian lens. For example, The US intervention in Afghanistan in 2001, was called a moral rescue mission as well as a national security imperative. This intervention was justified by using the accounts of women’s rights. The first lady of the time, Mrs. Laura Bush stated explicitly that, “the fight against terrorism is also a fight for the rights and dignity of a woman” (Bush 2001). Even though this was a persuasive rhetoric, it sidelined Afghan women’s own resistance movements like the Revolutionary Association of the Women of Afghanistan (RAWA 2025).

In global storytelling, everyone, including the NGO’s, journalists and even well-meaning celebrities have spoken on behalf of Afghanistan without consulting the Afghans themselves. This does not mean that these narratives are wrong, but they are often left incomplete. This is known as epistemic injustice, aterm coined by the philosopher Miranda Fricker (Fricker 2007). This is basically when someone is not heard due to structural bias. This discrediting if often faced by Afghan scholars, especially, if they are a woman or belonging to an ethnic minority. It does not stop even when they are speaking about their own legal system, culture and future. The result is pure unauthorised advocacy. The image of Afghanistan becomes a legal fiction which is drafted carefully yet is detached from its essence.

The Missing Voice:

There is a noble phenomenon of being the “voice to the voiceless”. However, in this scenario, Afghans are not voiceless; they are unheard. Afghanistan is a country which is filled with colourful traditions of storytelling, literature and jurisprudence. It also has its own form of dispute resolution called the “Jirga” and “Shura” (Wardak 2003, 4). They still function as legitimate legal forums and are rooted in community practice, but these native practices are often swept under the rug. International legal reforms are usually in favour of a modern system which isdesigned in Geneva or Washington. Now, imagine an individual quoting Amartya Sen or Martha Nusbaum on justice; they are praised for their depth. On the other hand, if an Afghan jurist refers to Pashtunwali, which is a customary code of ethics is considered narrow-minded. This is so because legal pluralism is only celebrated when it comes from the West (Merry 1988, 873).

Additionally, it also suffers from the “white saviour industrial complex”. This is when a white person thinks that they need to save and uplift non-whites. Afghanistan’s image of poverty and war is used to derive sympathy, fundraising and foreign policy support. It is reduced to mere symbolism, which is a veiled girl, barefoot child and grieving mother. These are powerful images but are not represented. They are specifically curated to evoke reactions rather than reflection. Even if they have good intentions, theymiss the mark. In 2021, after the fall of Kabul, even though many non-Afghans expressed their solidarity, only a few of them shared Afghan voices or platforms.

A call for equity:

As a law student, I am trained to value fairness, consent and procedural integrity. I would not accept a trial where only one party speaks. It would also not be fair to validate a contract with only one side’s consent. Keeping these points in mind, it is safe to say that having dominant narratives about Afghanistan, which are authored by outsiders, should not be allowed. It is not only about representation but also about restructuring the space. Afghan scholars, activists and journalists should not only be cited but also given a platform for their voices. Its institutions must not only be studied but also supported thoroughly and actively. Even if there are contradictions, they must not only be acknowledged but also understood on their own terms. At the end of the day the goal is not to exclude them but to include them respectfully. By doing this, it will not be about silencing Western voices but about readjusting their volume and frequency.

The right of people to ‘self-determination’ isrecognised by the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (UN 1976). This means that they have the right of Independence, Governance and land . But maybe it is now time to expand its definition and include cultural and relative authority as well. To control one’s story is basically controlling one’s image, priorities and the path forward. So,it should be considered a normative right rather than assuming something. Without narrative control, it is very easy for development to transform into displacement. It is very easy for aid to become dependent and Justice to become mere nonsense. Thinking about the long-term implications, narrative sovereignty is as essential as national sovereignty. This is because a nation that is constantly spoken for rarely speaks freely.

Conclusion:

In the end, we circleback to the same question. Who tells Afghanistan’s story? Mostly, it’s people who have never lived it. Sometimes it’s people who carry the story in their languages, within their families and inside their memories, or the people who are aware of Pashtunwali without googling it. If storytelling weregoverned like law, everybody would expect a fair procedure. Still, Afghanistan’s narrative has been created without any of these. It is about time that storytelling wastreated as advocacy and not just activism or art. This blog is not a call for narrative gatekeeping. It is a call for proper representation. Afghan journalists should write their editorials. Afghan women should define their gender struggle. Afghan lawyers should express their opinions on constitutional law and everyone else, should respectfully, just take notes.

 Bibliography

1. Bush, Laura. 2001. “Radio Address by the First Lady.” The White House Archives. November 17, 2001. https://georgewbush-whitehouse.archives.gov/news/releases/2001/11/20011117.html.
2. Fricker, Miranda. 2007. Epistemic Injustice: Power and the Ethics of Knowing. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
3. International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. 1976. United Nations Treaty Series 999, no. 14668: 171–185. https://www.ohchr.org/en/instruments-mechanisms/instruments/international-covenant-civil-and-political-rights.
4. Merry, Sally Engle. 1988. “Legal Pluralism.” Law & Society Review 22 (5): 869–896. https://doi.org/10.2307/3053638.
5. RAWA (Revolutionary Association of the Women of Afghanistan). 2025. “About Us.” Accessed June 24, 2025. http://www.rawa.org.
6. Wardak, 2003. “Jirga – A Traditional Mechanism of Conflict Resolution in Afghanistan.” Journal of Peace, Conflict and Development 10: 1–11. https://www.bradford.ac.uk/social-sciences/peace-conflict-and-development.