When External Affairs Minister S Jaishankar sat down with Amir Khan Muttaqi, the Taliban’s acting foreign minister, in New Delhi on October 9, 2025, the diplomatic world watched closely. India’s discreet but decisive move to upgrade its diplomatic presence in Kabul—from a modest technical mission to a full-fledged embassy—signals a profound shift in the region’s power dynamics. Officially, New Delhi frames this step as a “people-centric” initiative, focused on humanitarian cooperation and development. Yet, beneath these carefully chosen words lies a far deeper legal and strategic question: Is India, in effect, inching toward recognition of the Taliban government?
According to Deccan Chronicle, this development is part of a high-stakes diplomatic chess game involving not just India and Afghanistan, but also neighboring Pakistan and even China. The significance of the embassy upgrade is hard to overstate. After years of limited engagement since the Taliban’s return to power in 2021, India’s decision to reopen its embassy and hold direct ministerial-level meetings marks a major gambit. It’s a move that comes at a time when Afghanistan’s relationship with Pakistan has plummeted, with deadly border clashes and mutual accusations of cross-border attacks fueling the tension.
India’s engagement is not just about diplomatic symbolism. As reported by The Indian Express, the reopening of the embassy and the resumption of high-level contacts are considered “conclusive acts” in international law—actions that, while not outright declarations, can amount to implied or tacit recognition of a government. Legal scholar Pavle Kilibarda notes that recognition can be explicit, through formal statements, or implicit, when a state’s conduct leaves no doubt about its acceptance of another’s legal personality. Acts like signing treaties, accrediting diplomats, or reopening embassies are typically seen as strong indicators of such acceptance.
But India is walking a tightrope. New Delhi insists it has not recognized the Taliban regime, maintaining that its outreach is directed at the Afghan people rather than the government. This distinction is crucial in international law, which separates the sovereignty of the state from the legitimacy of the government. As the Ministry of External Affairs reiterated in Parliament, India’s engagement is “limited to humanitarian and developmental cooperation” and does not signify recognition. This careful phrasing helps preserve the fiction of continuity of the Afghan state, even as the regime in Kabul has changed hands.
The move is not without precedent. International law distinguishes between de facto and de jure recognition. The former is provisional, acknowledging a regime’s effective control without granting full legitimacy, while the latter is permanent and political. Historically, countries have used de facto recognition as a pragmatic tool to interact with new or unstable governments. The UK’s provisional recognition of the Baltic states after World War I and the US’s recognition of Israel’s provisional government in 1948 are classic examples. India’s approach mirrors this logic, treating the Taliban as the authority in Kabul for all practical purposes—coordinating on aid, security, and development—while stopping short of formal diplomatic language that would amount to de jure recognition.
Yet, as Kilibarda warns, intention is not always decisive; conduct can speak louder. If India’s engagement becomes institutionalized or long-term, such as through embassies, treaties, or diplomatic immunities, it could eventually be interpreted as implied recognition, regardless of official denials. International precedents, like the Clerget vs Banque commerciale case in France, have found implied recognition based on state conduct. Express disclaimers, therefore, remain vital to avoid unintended legal consequences.
This legal and diplomatic balancing act is not occurring in a vacuum. As The Hindu reports, the Taliban, after years of hostility towards India, now seems eager for a pragmatic reset. Afghanistan, under Taliban rule, finds itself isolated and in dire need of economic partners and international legitimacy. Muttaqi’s invitation to Indian businesses to invest in Afghanistan’s mining, energy, and infrastructure sectors underscores this shift. The Taliban’s assurance that Afghan soil will not be used to harm other countries directly addresses India’s long-standing security concerns about cross-border terrorism.
Strategically, Afghanistan remains a vital land bridge connecting South Asia with Central Asia. For India, re-engagement is not merely about goodwill; it’s a matter of necessity. An economically integrated Afghanistan, open to Indian influence, serves as a counterweight to both Pakistan and China’s regional ambitions. The Chabahar port project in Iran, which offers India a trade corridor bypassing Pakistan, is a key element in this strategy. Muttaqi’s call for India and Afghanistan to jointly remove obstacles to Chabahar’s full development aligns perfectly with New Delhi’s priorities.
The geopolitical context is equally complex. Afghanistan’s relations with Pakistan are at a historic low, marked by deadly border clashes and mutual accusations. In recent months, Afghanistan has killed 58 Pakistani soldiers and captured several posts in retaliatory strikes for violations of its territory. The Taliban has accused Pakistan of bombing Kabul and attacking markets in the east, with no denial forthcoming from Islamabad. Both India and Afghanistan share concerns about attacks emanating from Pakistan—whether through terrorists funded by Pakistan’s ISI in India’s case, or through direct military action in Afghanistan’s case.
India’s outreach to Afghanistan at this juncture is also notable for its humanitarian dimension. As reported by Deccan Chronicle, India is providing generous financial aid, ambulances, medical equipment, vaccines, and reconstruction support. The country has long supported the Afghan national cricket team, offering a training base and home ground in India. In a conciliatory gesture, Muttaqi even invited women journalists to his press conference—a small but symbolic step given the Taliban’s notorious record on women’s rights.
India’s approach is not without risks. Critics argue that any engagement with the Taliban, notorious for its repression of women and minorities, risks legitimizing a regime that has yet to demonstrate respect for international norms. Yet, as The Hindu notes, diplomacy is about working with realities, not idealism. By engaging Kabul, India retains influence and the ability to shape outcomes from within, rather than ceding ground to rivals.
China’s role adds another layer of complexity. In January 2025, China became the first country to formally accept the credentials of a Taliban-appointed ambassador, signaling its willingness to work with the new regime. Most Asian and West Asian countries have since accepted the Taliban’s de facto control, even if formal recognition remains elusive. India’s embassy upgrade is thus part of a broader regional trend toward pragmatic engagement.
Recent multilateral developments reinforce this trajectory. At the Moscow Format meeting in October 2025, 11 nations—including India, Russia, China, and Iran—opposed foreign military deployment in Afghanistan, signaling a growing regional consensus for cooperative security frameworks and a multipolar Asia free from external domination.
Ultimately, India’s engagement with the Taliban sits at the intersection of law, strategy, and necessity. By reopening its Kabul mission and resuming direct diplomatic contact, New Delhi is practicing cautious diplomacy that flirts with implied recognition but remains legally deniable. Whether this will be remembered as pragmatic statecraft or gradual legitimization depends not just on India’s next moves, but also on the Taliban’s willingness to behave like a government deserving of recognition in both law and conscience.