Habiba Sarabi made a point of making eye contact with Sher Muhammad Abbas Stanekzai by the omelet station. The Taliban leader would arrive at the hotel buffet after sunrise prayers, usually by no later than 6:30, and Sarabi would rise from her tea and join him by the spread to grab a cup of fruit or a tiny pitcher of milk. She’d nod, sometimes tip the pitcher in his direction. She made sure he saw her.
The pleasantry was not exactly pleasant but that was never her intent anyway. Sitting across from him for the first time months earlier, she’d asked why he had not invited any women to join his team of negotiators. The slightest flicker of bemusement and boredom registered in his eyes before he smiled, “You can represent the women for all of us,” he told her. Mirroring his expression, Sarabi had pursed her lips slightly while glancing away to someone more worthy of her time and attention.
They would share many interactions in the weeks and months ahead, all similar in tenor and mutual disdain, but Sarabi always found that the balance tilted in her favor most during those 30-second morning interactions. There she was… representing all of the women. A few months later, the Taliban leaders formally asked to be moved to a different hotel — one without a shared dining area.
“What will happen to women and children?” has become a rallying cry among many in and outside of Washington and some money has been earmarked for ongoing efforts to demonstrate that no one is abandoning what had always been one of the central aims and parallel justifications for the U.S. invasion all those years ago. In fact, the United States spent more than $780 million over two decades to promote women’s rights in Afghanistan — but has too often relied on the same misguided narratives of helpless victims in need of saving. Often inadvertently (and often not) marginalizing women by attempts at "empowerment" and "salvation," with their bodies and their stories utilized to justify both war and peace.
Nearly every opportunity was missed to instead partner with and take cues from the woman who have the expertise, skill and determination to do exactly what was needed to safeguard their people.
THE STATESWOMEN OF AFGHANISTAN explores the behind-the-scenes work of three Afghan diplomats who have been at the forefront (though too often invisible), tirelessly advocating for their nation. The central time-frame is between 2019 and present day but the stories and references span both the last 20 years and the lived experiences of Habiba Sarabi and Fawzia Koofi — two of the four women who sat at the peace negotiating table in Doha — and Afghanistan's Ambassador to the United States, Adela Raz.
Afghan women demanded a seat at the negotiating table, but the United States — including long-time negotiator Zalmay Khalizad — had never really believed the separate infra-Afghan talks to begin with and they became nothing more than a highly-public stalling mechanism to reassure the western world.
The real back channel has been in place and working behind-the-scenes to secure both the funding and the front-pages necessary to remain front and center on everyone’s mind. This story will recreate the last 24 months of failed decision-making leading up to the Taliban’s complete takeover on Aug. 15 while also shedding light on the invisible diplomacy undertaken by several of the Afghan women negotiators and the Afghan ambassador to Washington, to fill the leadership vacuum and sound the (unheeded) alarm.
These women discuss the work and skill that has gone into rallying partners to fight for the future of their country. Nothing about this story is neat and tidy and the present moment could not be more devastating. But it’s my hope to share a pivotal moment in time as it happened.
Women are seen as skilled peacemakers and yet diplomacy is often treated as exclusively the purview of men. For many women diplomats across the world, however, their gender turns out to be an extraordinary asset. They are resolutely talented in leveraging their social and interpersonal skills to form diplomatic relationships and forge trust within the local community. They also have the distinct ability to more comfortably speak with local women in more conservative parts of a country. Thus, they can access a significant layer in the fabric of that community, a powerful dimension often neglected by male colleagues. The life and work for women diplomats is harder and more vital than anyone realizes.
This is a book about amplifying and elevating legacies of self-agency and stepping out of the way as these extraordinary women speak for themselves. As Fawzia Koofi says:
“The women of Afghanistan are the most talked about but the least listened to.”
Author’s note: Nearly three years ago, I set out to write a book about female diplomats, women who mixed profound skills and ambitions with wanderlust and a sense of duty. Like many of you, I have read so many similar (great) stories about (great) men. I wanted to write these women back into modern history.
As my research and interviews began in earnest in 2020, I was struck by how open and generous these women were with their stories and their time. Again and again, they pointed to the Trump administration as a turning point in their desire to see and be seen. Watching the best parts of diplomacy and the people who dedicated their entire adult lives to its practice being erased had pushed them to talk more openly and more frankly about their lives and careers. They believed in this book. They wanted their voices heard.
Something started to shift this spring. With the Biden administration in power, many who had stepped away from diplomacy felt the pull to return. The fear that nothing would ever be normal again began to slowly dissipate. While the core group of women I was profiling celebrated with me when STATESWOMEN found its home at Beacon Press, I began receiving correspondence soon after expressing trepidation about sharing the innermost details of a particularly challenging event. One of the women I’d planned to write about accepted a high-profile job within the administration. Another said that she was also up for consideration for a new ambassadorship. a third had a health scare. A fourth was preparing for her next posting and having second thoughts about whether it would be smart to put her name out there so soon after receiving a promotion.
In our conversations, the women began mentioning how they made a commitment to me, which was a new and frankly, somewhat depressing, way of framing our partnership. Here’s the truth: Trump changed everything. And in navigating an (at least temporarily) post-Trump world, these exceptional women felt called to prioritize their work and their ownership of their stories. How could I be anything but excited to watch what they do next and grateful to have had the pleasure of hearing about so many incredible moments from their lives. I don’t believe our work together has ended though it’s too early to tell what shape it may take next.
And so, our conversations continue. At the end of the day, this book — like this newsletter — was always going to revolve around authentic and engaging stories.
And STATESWOMEN is a book about female diplomats, women who mix profound skills and ambitions with courage and a sense of duty. It's a multigenerational tale with entry points for young adult readers, their mothers, aunts, and grandmothers — and the men in their lives.
Ambassador Wendy Sherman once said:
“Madeleine Albright taught me a very important lesson years ago when she was ambassador to the United Nations, and that was that when you sit at the table, you are the United States of America. And so it mattered less that I was a woman than that I was the United States of America. Having understood what power that brought to the table, I made every use of it.”
And Rula Ghani unknowingly echoed the same truth:
“Not only do Afghan women speak for themselves, they speak for all the nation.”