A purported internal Taliban document titled Schedule of the 9023 Plan for Sources and Collaborators offers a disturbing glimpse into what appears to be a structured system for financing political analysts, journalists, religious scholars, activists, and social media influencers. Although the authenticity of the document requires independent verification, its contents raise serious questions about the Taliban’s efforts to manipulate public debate, shape media narratives, and manufacture an appearance of domestic and international legitimacy.
According to the document, approximately four million Afghanis, reported as nearly US$61,000, were allocated to an influence network composed of named individuals and a much larger group of online influencers. Fourteen people are reportedly listed alongside aliases, registration numbers, assigned responsibilities, and individual financial allocations ranging from US$1,000 to US$4,000. Such details, if genuine, would suggest that the alleged operation was not an informal outreach programme but a centrally managed influence initiative supported by administrative records, financial planning, and operational categorisation.
The most revealing component is the allocation of US$25,000 for 100 social media influencers, calculated at US$250 per person. This is not merely a media-relations budget. It appears designed to create a distributed network of digital voices capable of repeating, amplifying, and normalising Taliban narratives across multiple online spaces.
A hundred coordinated accounts or personalities can generate large volumes of posts, comments, videos, hashtags, and responses, creating the false impression that a particular viewpoint enjoys broad and spontaneous public support
Modern influence operations do not always depend on sophisticated technology. Their effectiveness often comes from repetition, coordination, emotional messaging, and the strategic use of seemingly independent voices. A political analyst may present a Taliban position as objective geopolitical analysis. A religious scholar may frame obedience to the regime as a religious obligation. A journalist may selectively highlight developments that favour the authorities while ignoring repression. An activist may attack critics in the language of sovereignty or anti-imperialism. Social media influencers can then distribute these messages to wider and younger audiences.
The alleged document therefore points to an ecosystem rather than a simple list of paid individuals. Each category appears capable of serving a different function within an integrated information campaign. Analysts provide intellectual legitimacy, journalists provide media visibility, religious personalities provide moral justification, activists provide political energy, and influencers provide speed, reach, and repetition. Together, these actors can blur the distinction between independent commentary and state-sponsored messaging.
The use of aliases and registration numbers is particularly significant. Such information may indicate an effort to monitor participants, protect identities, distribute assignments, and maintain organisational control. If verified, this would demonstrate that the Taliban’s information activities are being managed through bureaucratic mechanisms similar to those used for intelligence sources or covert collaborators.
The document’s reference to Khalil Hamraz, identified as Director General of the “015 Unit,” further strengthens the impression of institutional oversight, although the identity, authority, and precise function of this unit must also be independently established
The political purpose of such a network is not difficult to understand. The Taliban face a profound legitimacy deficit. Their return to power was not achieved through a nationwide democratic mandate. Their government remains internationally isolated, while restrictions on women, suppression of dissent, economic hardship, media controls, and allegations of human rights abuses continue to damage their reputation. Under these conditions, controlling the narrative becomes almost as important as controlling territory.
A paid influence network could help the Taliban present their rule as stable, popular, religiously justified, and internationally misunderstood. It could also be used to discredit resistance movements, silence Afghan critics, attack independent journalists, defend controversial policies, and redirect attention from internal failures. Instead of addressing criticism through transparency and reform, an authoritarian system may attempt to overwhelm criticism with coordinated messaging and personal attacks.
Such operations also exploit the economic vulnerability of Afghanistan’s media and intellectual community. Years of war, declining international assistance, unemployment, and the collapse of many independent outlets have left journalists, commentators, and activists under immense financial pressure. In this environment, relatively modest payments can purchase access, silence, favourable commentary, or repeated amplification. The result is a distorted information space in which audiences struggle to distinguish genuine opinion from sponsored advocacy.
The allegations should nevertheless be approached responsibly. A purported document circulating online cannot, by itself, establish guilt. Digital files can be fabricated, altered, selectively leaked, or presented without context. The named individuals must be given an opportunity to respond, and independent investigators should examine the document’s origin, metadata, signatures, administrative terminology, financial calculations, and connection to known Taliban institutions.
Publishing names without verification could unfairly damage reputations and undermine the credibility of legitimate scrutiny
However, the need for verification should not become an excuse for ignoring the broader threat. The document’s alleged structure is consistent with the logic of contemporary influence operations, in which governments and armed movements quietly cultivate media personalities and online networks to shape public perceptions. Afghanistan’s information environment is particularly vulnerable because independent journalism operates under pressure, access to official information is restricted, and fear discourages open criticism.
The central issue is not simply whether US$61,000 was distributed. It is whether the Taliban are attempting to replace independent public debate with managed narratives produced by financially dependent voices. If the document is authenticated, it would reveal a calculated effort to convert analysts, journalists, scholars, activists, and influencers into instruments of political messaging.
Truth cannot survive where audiences are denied transparency about who funds the voices seeking to influence them. The alleged 9023 Plan should therefore be investigated by independent journalists, digital-forensics specialists, Afghan civil society organisations, and international monitoring bodies. Those named deserve due process, but the public also deserves to know whether supposedly independent commentary is being secretly financed by a regime seeking to control not only Afghanistan’s institutions, but also the way Afghanistan is understood.
