Almost 30 years after former Afghan President Dr. Mohammad Najibullah was killed by the Taliban, his daughter, Heela Najibullah, delivered a deeply personal and political message to Afghans worldwide. Speaking on the 29th anniversary of his death during an online X Space event on September 27, Heela, a peace and reconciliation researcher, urged Afghans to embrace her father’s vision of neutrality, independence, and reconciliation as the foundation for a peaceful future.
“Today is not an easy day for many of us who share the pain and loss of two men I called Aba and Kaka Ahmadzai,” she said, referring to her father and uncle, both killed when the Taliban first took Kabul in 1996.
“I have not only lost a father and an uncle, but also a president whose ideas of peace and vision of a prosperous Afghanistan guided my childhood.”
Najibullah served as the fifth president of Afghanistan from November 1987 until April 1992, shortly before the Mujahideen takeover of Kabul. Although he had opportunities to leave for India or Russia, he chose to remain in the Afghan capital, consistent with the United Nations plan that required his resignation and the formation of an interim government. After the plan collapsed, he sought refuge in the U.N. compound in Kabul, where he remained for four years until the Taliban’s arrival. His brother, Ahmadzai, stayed with him throughout his confinement and was killed also when the Taliban entered Kabul in September 1996.
On the evening of September 26, 1996, when the Taliban entered Kabul, the brothers were brutally tortured, and killed. According to Afrasiab Khattak, a former Pakistani senator, the Taliban carried out the killing on orders from Pakistan’s military establishment. Research institutes, including Afghanistan’s Strategic and Scientific Research Center, have similarly concluded that Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) played a central role in orchestrating the assassination.
Heela’s remarks resonated deeply with Afghans in exile and inside the country. For many, it was not just a daughter’s tribute, but a reminder of an unfinished national vision, one that sought to free Afghanistan from dependency and division.
Neutrality and the Quest for Sovereignty
Throughout her remarks, Heela revisited the political ideals that defined her father’s final years, especially his policy of National Reconciliation. Introduced in the late 1980s, it was an attempt to bridge Afghanistan’s political divides through dialogue rather than war.
“That policy inspired me to study peace, conflict management, and security studies,” she said, describing her own academic path as a continuation of her father’s legacy. “He taught us that reconciliation is not a tactic; it is a vision rooted in trust and justice.”
She reminded the online listeners that her father understood that peace in Afghanistan required both an internal and an external dimension.
“When his government promoted national reconciliation, he knew that peace in Afghanistan has an internal and an external aspect,” she said. “This is why he had proposed to the U.N. that while the government could work on building national consensus, the U.N. could focus on finding regional and global consensus among the different stakeholders of the Cold War.”
In her view, that insight remains profoundly relevant today. “Despite 20 years of the War on Terror, we Afghans find ourselves in a situation where there is no legitimate government and no rule of law,” she said.
“Afghanistan has turned into a prison for its citizens who cannot raise their opinion, voice, or be socially or politically active. Many from inside the country inform me of their struggles and ask me to bring their issues to the world stage.”
Heela emphasized that Afghanistan’s repeated crises stem less from its people than from its geography — a recurring idea her father often highlighted. “He used to say it is not our history and culture, but our geography that is the cause of our political challenges,” she asserted.
She warned that Afghans continue to be excluded from international discussions about their country’s fate. “Have you asked yourself who represents our voice?” she asked. “There are so many processes in the West and East that we do not know how they were established, who is behind them, or who represents us.”
Her call for neutrality was direct: Afghanistan, she argued, must no longer serve as a pawn in others’ geopolitical rivalries. “The only way out of being pulled in all directions is when Afghanistan becomes a neutral state, a country whose foreign policy is based on independence, not servitude.”
Neutrality, she added, must come from within.
“We must believe in ourselves that we can choose our governments and shape how the future of our children will look,” Heela said. Her words echoed her father’s belief that Afghanistan’s independence depended on its people’s collective confidence and unity, not on foreign intervention.
Healing Before Reconciliation
Moving from politics to emotion, Heela spoke about the psychological wounds that decades of war have inflicted on Afghans. Reconciliation, she said, must start with healing — an inward process before it becomes a political one.
“Before shaping our future and dreaming of a just society, we must ask ourselves — are we ready to heal? Are we ready to talk and share our pain?”
She challenged Afghans to confront their shared trauma and to transform grief into action. “Do we want our victimhood to consume us,” she asked, “or do we want to take the difficult steps of transformation so our children can have better, colorful lives?”
Her reflections also revealed her personal journey from loss to purpose. “It was Aba’s choice to stand tall for peace even when his enemies took him away from my sisters and mother,” she said. “He proved that we have the choice to leave a different legacy behind.”
Nearly three decades after Najibullah’s brutal death, his message of sovereignty and pluralism still resonates. For many in the Afghan diaspora, his daughter’s voice offered both remembrance and renewal.
“I chose to study peace. I chose to let go of anger and revenge. And I choose to stand by humanity, justice, and equality for a neutral and prosperous Afghanistan,” she said in closing. “What do you choose?”
Her question lingered long after the discussion ended, a challenge to Afghans everywhere to reclaim their agency, heal their divisions, and shape a nation that is not defined by foreign agendas but by the will of its people.
For those listening from diaspora or from inside Afghanistan, her message was deeply personal yet unmistakably political: the struggle for Afghanistan’s neutrality and unity is not her father’s legacy alone — it is a call that belongs to every Afghan who dreams of peace.