As global attention shifts toward escalating conflict across the Middle East, the Taliban are seizing the moment, exploiting international distraction to quietly intensify their campaign of fear. In the shadows of this distraction are the very people who once stood beside allied forces in Afghanistan from 2001 to 2021: local staff. Now abandoned by the governments they served, many remain in hiding — forgotten, hunted, and increasingly targeted in silence.
While numerous countries made swift and commendable efforts to evacuate their nationals and select local staff during the fall of Kabul in August 2021, a painful truth remains: those most visible and accessible were prioritized. Guards, interpreters, and support staff — many of whom had to remain in hiding for their safety — were left behind. Years later, countless individuals continue to live in fear, waiting for the world to remember them.
Even Sweden’s former ambassador, Torkel Stiernlöf, publicly acknowledged that evacuating embassy personnel while abandoning Afghan colleagues felt “deceitful” in 2022. What he may not fully have realized is that, years later, dedicated advocates around the world continue to fight tirelessly to support and protect those who once stood beside us.
The consequences of this abandonment are not just historical; they’re happening now.
This month, our worst fears were confirmed. On June 5, just outside Sheberghan in northern Afghanistan (formerly Sweden’s area of responsibility under NATO), two masked gunmen stopped a vehicle, ordered the passengers out, and pulled aside a former local guard commander. He was executed on the spot. To protect his family’s identity, we are withholding his name. What we can share is that he once worked with the Swedish military and later served as a local police chief under the former Afghan government. He had been in hiding since the Taliban’s return to power.
Despite the Taliban’s assurances of a so-called “general amnesty” in 2021, this was no isolated case. It reflects a persistent and chilling pattern: former local staff are being systematically hunted and killed.
A History of Support — and Its Limits
Sweden, now a member of NATO, once employed hundreds of Afghan local staff. Among their most committed advocates is Björn Blanck, a former Swedish military veteran who continues to track those left behind, refusing to let their stories fade.
Sweden’s history of support is not insignificant. In 2014, the country resettled 23 families, comprising 21 interpreters and 2 guards, along with their immediate families. During the 2021 evacuations, another 56 families were rescued through a temporary mandate that allowed authorities to bypass the usual UNHCR process. In 2022, Sweden facilitated the safe passage of an additional 10 families through Pakistan, thanks to special arrangements made with the IOM and the Swedish Embassy in Islamabad, which permitted travel without formal passports or visas.
Photo: Courtesy of Björn Blanck In Northern Afghanistan (2014), Swedish soldiers engage in hearts and minds operations at a local school.
But that window has since closed.
Four other former local staff were approved for resettlement in 2021 but were unable to reach Islamabad before the deadline. One of them, a widowed female guard, eventually escaped in early 2024 with the help of privately raised funds and is now rebuilding her life in Sweden.
Still, Björn’s list of former colleagues left behind remains long. Fifty names. Fifty individuals who served Sweden and NATO, but who were forgotten in previous evacuation efforts. Fifty people are still waiting — unprocessed, unseen — and caught in a slow-moving debate over whether the Swedish government will act. 50 lives neglected is a lot. But 50 is also a manageable effort for Sweden. Only 50 more relocations and Sweden could finally, truly, finish its mission.
Not Just Sweden
Sweden is not alone in inaction. Governments in Canada, the U.S., Germany, and others have shifted their political focus in the years since Kabul fell back to the Taliban in 2021. While these shifts may not be rooted in malice, their consequences are undeniably dangerous. Without direct and sustained government engagement, even the most committed nonprofits are left to navigate immigration systems that are bureaucratic, slow, and poorly designed for emergency protection.
Take Canada, for example. In recent months, former local staff have been given just 30 to 60 days to leave Afghanistan, or risk having their immigration files withdrawn. Aman Lara, a registered Canadian charity committed to enabling safe passage, protection, and pathways to opportunity for refugees, displaced individuals, and those at-risk, estimates that thousands remain trapped, despite documented ties to Canada. What’s often overlooked is this: without coordinated financial and logistical support, relocation isn’t just difficult — it’s impossible for many.
A Global Network of Advocacy
Local Staff International (LSI), a Berlin-based nonprofit, unites a global network of advocates committed to supporting former local staff. Among them is Björn, who, in response to growing threats in 2024, reached out to LSI co-chairs Sara de Jong and Marcus Grotian for support in coordinating safe evacuation. One of LSI’s board directors, Jon Feltham, a Canadian Armed Forces veteran and Executive Director of Aman Lara, responded without hesitation. Working with Björn, he helped coordinate the safe relocation of one of the families on Björn’s list. That family is now resettled in Sweden and beginning to rebuild their lives.
This story serves as a reminder of what is still possible when governments, nonprofits, and individuals collaborate. When barriers are removed and collaboration replaces delay, progress doesn’t just happen — it saves lives.
But isolated success is not enough of what is possible when governments and NGOs work together, rather than at odds. When they do, progress isn’t just possible. It’s life-saving.
The entire LSI board stands united in this belief:
Without pressure, these efforts fade. Without action, lives are lost.
To every government that operated in Afghanistan, we say clearly:
We have a moral obligation — not just to remember our allies, but to finish the job.
A Chance to Act
But today, we start here. Sweden made promises. Sweden can still act.
In a world increasingly distracted by new crises, we must not lose sight of this enduring truth: Afghanistan remains under the control of a known and documented terrorist regime. Those who stood with us are still at risk. They deserve more than silence. They deserve safety, dignity, and the chance to rebuild their lives, just as they once helped us protect ours.
In the coming weeks, we will share more stories, from Sweden and beyond—stories that show how many were left behind, and how many more can still be saved.