The bearded warriors struggled to manoeuvre their cannons into position, but once the barrels were pointing in the right direction, their commander shouted: “Fire!” The bombardment continued for several weeks. When the guns finally fell silent, two of the world's largest standing Buddha statues had been reduced to ruins.
“Allahu akbar!” the warriors cheered, raising their arms towards the heavens.
This happened in Afghanistan 25 years ago. For some 1,400 years, the two statues had stood in separate niches carved into the cliffs of Bamiyan. One was 55 metres tall, the other 38 metres. They had withstood the elements and survived countless wars. But then the Taliban arrived with their artillery. The order to destroy them came from the movement's leader at the time, Mullah Omar.
“We are carrying out this action in accordance with Islamic law,” declared Afghanistan's foreign minister, Wakil Ahmad Mutawakil.
The Taliban regime had long warned of what was to come. The United Nations and governments around the world pleaded with the regime to abandon its plans, but to no avail. Mullah Omar was delighted when the statues had been reduced to dust: “Muslims should be proud when they smash idols. By destroying these statues, we have praised Allah.”
Buddhism arrived in Afghanistan long before Islam. The two Buddhas of Bamiyan were carved into the cliffs in the late sixth and early seventh centuries. Following the death of the Prophet Muhammad in 632, Islam gained momentum, and in Afghanistan Buddhism was gradually displaced by the new religion. Yet the Buddhas of Bamiyan were left undisturbed.
“Listen,” Pakistan's interior minister, Moinuddin Haider, told Mullah Omar in 2001, before the bombardment began. “Over the centuries, thousands of Muslim soldiers have crossed Afghanistan on their way to India without feeling any urge to destroy these statues. Why are you so different from all other Muslims?”
Mullah Omar paused to consider the question before replying: “They didn't have the technology to destroy them.”
But the task proved more difficult than expected, and the Taliban eventually had to use dynamite to demolish what remained of the statues. Ever since, travellers passing through the Bamiyan Valley have had to content themselves with gazing into the empty niches. Fortunately, the numerous monks' cells carved into the cliffs were largely spared. Some are still richly decorated with Buddhist motifs.
For centuries, Bamiyan was a crossroads on the ancient Silk Road linking East and West. Caravans of heavily laden camels arrived here, and in the oasis town's marketplace, traders conversed and haggled in a multitude of languages. Today, the town has around 17,000 inhabitants and lies just a couple of kilometres from the sandy-brown cliffs where the statues once stood. But could they be recreated in their original locations?
Experts say yes, although any reconstruction would be both demanding and expensive. Above all, it would require peaceful political conditions and close cooperation with the Taliban government in Kabul.
Mullah Omar died in 2013. Today's Taliban is led by Hibatullah Akhundzada. Trained as an Islamic legal scholar, he appears at least as conservative as Mullah Omar. His ambition is to further develop Afghanistan as an Islamic state in which his strict interpretation of Sharia governs every aspect of society.
His attitude towards women is a telling example. As long as he remains in power, girls are barred from attending school beyond the sixth grade, while women are excluded from higher education and large parts of the workforce.
Women are also prohibited from making longer journeys without a male guardian, usually a husband or close male relative. In some places, women are also denied access to shops, healthcare services and public transport unless accompanied by such a guardian. Since the Taliban regained power in 2021, the regime has also reintroduced corporal punishment and public executions. Flogging is used, among other things, as punishment for extramarital relations.
Nevertheless, the regime seeks limited cooperation with other countries, and tourists are once again being allowed into Afghanistan. Around 10,000 foreign tourists visited the country last year. Many are drawn to Bamiyan to see what remains of its Buddhist past. The drive from Kabul heads northwest, climbing to an altitude of 2,500 metres, and takes approximately four hours.
But the area is not entirely safe. Two years ago, three Spanish tourists were killed and several other people wounded when the terrorist organisation IS-K struck at one of the town's bazaars. IS-K, or Islamic State Khorasan Province, was established in 2015 as a branch of Islamic State. Its aim is to replace the Taliban regime with a government that would form part of a worldwide Islamic caliphate.
For the time being, the Taliban appears to maintain firm control over most of the country. And although Bamiyan has experienced unrest, UNESCO experts are working to preserve its remaining cultural heritage. One of the greatest challenges is stabilising the cliffs that once housed the Buddha statues. The work is financed largely by Japan and Italy. In a recent statement, UNESCO expressed the hope that Afghan experts could also become more closely involved in the preservation efforts.
As a sign that Mullah Omar's uncompromising approach has been abandoned, the town now has a cultural centre offering exhibitions and other activities. The impressive building stands on a hill overlooking the valley and the empty niches in the cliffs. UNESCO also has plans to establish a separate museum devoted to the history of the Silk Road and Bamiyan's role in it. The Silk Road was a network of trade routes, several of which wound their way through Afghanistan.
Whatever happens, few tourists are likely to visit the town in the coming months. Winter is approaching, bringing snow, freezing temperatures and icy winds from the north. The Chinese Buddhist monk Xuanzang, who visited Bamiyan around the year 630, described the treacherous mountain passes, with their snowstorms, hail and ice-covered paths. When he finally arrived, he found ten monasteries housing more than a thousand monks.
In the new millennium, no Buddhist monks come wandering across the mountains, least of all from China. Afghanistan has, however, joined China's Belt and Road Initiative, a vast project aimed at building new and improved infrastructure linking China with numerous other countries.
For Beijing, Afghanistan's mineral wealth is particularly enticing. Beneath the barren mountains lie vast deposits of copper, lithium and rare earth elements, although how much can actually be extracted remains uncertain. Equally important is China's desire to keep Islamist extremism at bay. China's leaders want a Taliban regime capable of keeping militant groups under control and ensuring that Afghanistan does not become a breeding ground for terrorism in the region.
Now, as the mercury drops towards freezing point, most of the foreign experts working in Bamiyan are heading home. But they will return in April, if all goes well. Back to the two empty niches in the cliffs — and to many more years of painstaking work.
This article was originally published in the Norwegian newspaper Dagsavisen on 15 October 2026.
