Editorial

India’s hosting of Taliban Acting Foreign Minister Amir Khan Muttaqi in October 2025 is not a moral lapse but a strategic necessity. For too long, New Delhi clung to principled isolation, yielding Afghanistan’s vacuum to Pakistan’s proxies and China’s chequebook. The result: terror sanctuaries, stalled trade corridors, and a humanitarian catastrophe next door. Engagement, however deliberate, is the antidote.

Security imperatives drive this pivot. The Taliban’s repeated assurances—condemning the Pahalgam attack, pledging no anti-India activity—are verifiable only through dialogue. Backchannel talks since 2022, $3 billion in aid, and now a reopened Kabul embassy signal calibrated trust-building. As Pakistan’s airstrikes expose the fragility of its “strategic depth,” India gains leverage to peel Kabul away from Rawalpindi’s orbit.

Humanitarian logic is equally compelling. With 24 million Afghans facing acute hunger, India’s wheat, medicines, and ambulances save lives—and buy influence. Reviving Chabahar and the Zaranj-Delaram highway can unlock Central Asia, aligning with India’s “Act West” vision without firing a shot.

Critics howl betrayal, citing the Taliban’s gender apartheid and Deobandi radicalism. Yet isolation never moderated the regime; it only empowered rivals. Russia’s lone recognition in July 2025 underscores a global shift toward “engagement without recognition.” India’s model—aid tied to behavior, diplomacy without endorsement—sets the template.

The red lines remain non-negotiable: no terror exports, no Pakistani veto. Muttaqi’s evasive presser on women’s rights exposed the ideological chasm, but diplomacy is not endorsement—it is leverage. Domestic protests and exiled Afghan leaders’ warnings merit attention, not paralysis.

In a multipolar South Asia, India cannot afford absenteeism. By upgrading its mission and inking counter-terrorism pacts, New Delhi asserts agency. The Taliban’s survival depends on pragmatism; India’s security demands the same. This is not capitulation—it is statecraft, cold, clear, and overdue.

The Supreme Court’s resumed hearing on the electoral bonds scheme is more than a legal autopsy—it is a referendum on Indian democracy’s soul. Scrapped in February 2024 after the Court struck it down as unconstitutional, the scheme’s ghost lingers in ₹16,000 crore of anonymous donations, with the BJP cornering ₹6,566 crore—57% of the total. As a five-judge bench deliberates fresh challenges on October 28, 2025, the question is stark: can money buy elections in the dark?

The bonds were sold as reform—replacing cash-stuffed suitcases with bank-channelled funds. Yet anonymity bred cronyism. Data reveals a chilling pattern: firms under ED or CBI probes donated heavily post-raids, only to see cases stall. Infrastructure giants, pharma firms, even lottery operators emerged as top donors, their contributions timed with policy shifts or contract awards. This is not transparency; it is legalized quid pro quo.

The government defends the scheme as a lesser evil, arguing privacy prevents donor harassment. But voters have a greater right—to know who funds their leaders. Anonymity shields influence-peddling, not dissent. The BJP’s dominance in bond receipts, while opposition parties scrambled for scraps, skewed the playing field long before ballots were cast.

With Maharashtra polls looming and 2029 on the horizon, the Court must mandate real-time disclosure, cap corporate donations, and explore public funding models. Anything less perpetuates a system where policy is auctioned to the highest bidder.

Democracy thrives in daylight. The Supreme Court has a historic chance to drag political funding from shadows into scrutiny. Let the verdict not just bury the bond—but bury secrecy itself.

• SAS Kirmani