The Taliban are making rapid territorial gains in Afghanistan’s countryside while Afghan security forces coalesce around urban centers. But the only sustainable path that will bring peace is a political settlement and a new constitution inclusive of the Taliban’s viewpoints.
After the United States toppled the Taliban regime in 2001, a conference was held in Bonn, Germany to decide what kind of state would replace the Taliban’s Emirate in Afghanistan. But the Taliban were excluded as most stakeholders at the time, particularly the United States, believed its political future was over. The Bonn process reinstated the 1964 Constitution — the last Afghan constitution with broad legitimacy — as the interim constitution until a new constitution — which draws heavily from the 1964 version — was ratified by a Grand Assembly in Kabul in 2004.
Now after almost two decades, Afghanistan must reckon with the Taliban’s views on law, rights, and legislation. How do those views fit into the legal history of Afghanistan? What does this mean for a post-peace legal system in Afghanistan?
The Taliban are not transparent and the specifics of their constitutional views are unknown. However, there are two constitutional documents that can be linked to the group: the draft Constitution of Taliban, “Dastur Emarat Islami Afghanistan,” prepared by a group of Ulema (those with varying level of trainings in Islamic law) when the Taliban were in power in 1998; and the Charter, “Manshur Emarat Islami Afghanistan” leaked to the public in 2020. The Taliban’s spokesman denied the group’s connection with the latter document, but its content suggests that it at least represents constitutional views of some figures aligned with the group.
Juxtaposing the Taliban’s constitutional documents against the 2004 Constitution makes it clear that a central issue of the peace process is whether the Taliban’s reactionary and traditionalist brand of Islamist politics can be reconciled with the ideals of pluralism and democracy that form the normative basis of the 2004 Constitution, or in media parlance — the “gains” of the last 20 years.
Afghanistan’s constitutional history
The first five decades of Afghanistan’s constitutional history, from the country’s first written constitution until the 1964 Constitution, can be understood as a dialogic struggle between traditional clerics, or Ulema, and the Afghan rulers (and later a broader coalition that included the technocrats and intellectuals as well) over the relations between state law and Islamic law and the legislative power of the state. The ideas of Afghan intellectuals backed by the Afghan rulers ultimately prevailed over the ideas of Ulema. The 1964 Constitution established a hierarchy between state law and Islamic law where the former supersedes as long as it did not contradict the basic principles of Islam. It also placed the legislative power within an elected assembly.
A coup ended the decade-long tenure of the 1964 Constitution, and several constitutions tried but failed to combine the basic formula of the 1964 version with leftist revolutionary ideals. The last constitutional reforms before the fall of the communist regime in Kabul reinstated the basic formulation of the 1964 version.
Shortly after the Soviet Union’s support ended, the communist regime in Kabul fell, and the Mujahideen took over. Ideologically opposed to the leftist regime in Afghanistan, leading figures of the Mujahideen represented a new brand of politics and Islam in Afghanistan. Its leaders adopted an aspirational view of politics based on Islam. They were not Ulema, they were Islamists. They wanted to use the state to transform the country into their ideal vision of an Islamic society. In 1993, the Mujahideen’s government drafted a constitution, “Usul Asasi Dawlat Islami Afghanistan.” Article 6 proclaimed, “Islamic State of Afghanistan is founded on political, social, cultural, and economic institutions which are in accordance with the Islamic principles and rules.” But the Mujahideen’s in-fighting brought about its demise and the rise of Taliban and the 1993 Draft Constitution was never ratified.
Taliban — Islamic law students turned fighters — picked up where Mujahideen left off. After taking over Kabul, they drafted their Constitution in 1998. The Taliban retained most of the Mujahideen's draft and only replaced the political entity with an Emirate.
Both the Mujahideen’s and Taliban’s drafts kept the 1964 Constitution’s chapter on the rights of the citizen, but they added a catch-all restriction that all such rights must comply with Islam.
The Taliban and Mujahideen disagreed, however, on one fundamental issue: elections. In their draft constitution, the Mujahideen, in principle, accepted elections but the Taliban rejected it completely. The reasons behind this divergence were both normative and practical. Normatively, the Taliban rejected elections because it has no precedent in the classical texts of Islamic law. The Mujahideen, on the other hand, accepted it because they adopted a modern reformist understanding of Islamic law which accommodates elections. Practically, the Taliban had no need for elections because of their unitary political organization built around their late Emir, Mullah Omar. This unity made them an effective war machine. The Mujahideen, by contrast, had use for elections to arbitrate the question of who should lead the state since they were a coalition of different factions.
Following 9/11, the United States invaded Afghanistan and ended the Taliban’s rule. The Bonn conference started a process that culminated in a new constitution in 2004 which returned to the basic formula of 1964.
How has the Taliban’s constitutional view evolved?
For indications about how the Taliban’s constitutional views have evolved we can turn to the Charter. The Charter suggests, in defining their insurgency against the post-2001 democratic political order, the anti-democratic and anti-liberal views of the Taliban have actually hardened. Article 10 of the Charter states, “all of those disbelieving laws which contradict the rulings of Islamic law, such as: Republic, Democracy, Socialism, and Liberalism, have no place in Afghanistan.” Article 74 states that the Emirate is not bound by those laws of the international community that contradict Islamic values. It adds that such contradictory international laws include “free speech, human rights, civil rights that go beyond the limits of Islamic law.”
The Charter retains the Emirate, but it circumscribes the powers of the Emir. The Taliban’s draft constitution envisions a prime minister, unilaterally appointed by the Emir, as the head of government. The Charter considers the Emir to be the head of state and government, but it also envisions that the Emir would appoint a number of deputies subject to the approval of the Emirate’s leadership council. The division of power between deputies and Emirs is not clarified but the Charter discusses the power of deputies to approve legislation or appoint and remove Emirate officials alongside the Emir. The Charter also establishes an Ulema council as the final authority on the compliance of the Emirate’s laws with Islam and a dar ul-fatwa, or a Center of Islamic Ruling, as the last arbiter of other political issues if the Ulema Council disagrees with the leadership council on an issue other than compliance of Emirate laws with Islamic law. The Taliban’s draft constitution did not include such a center.
What would constitution-making with the Taliban look like?
The Taliban’s brand of Islamist politics is fairly unique. It has adopted the statist tendency of other Islamist groups around the world in that it wants to use the power of the state to transform the society into its own vision of an Islamic society. On the other hand, the Taliban has remained strictly traditionalist in many ways. For example, it has rejected other tenets of modern Islamism and it is not open to reexamining classical Islamic orthodoxy. It does not view Islamic texts as ethical principles for political, social, cultural, and economic life.
This literalist interpretation of Islam confines the Taliban’s views of what counts as “Islamic” exclusively and uncritically to a narrow reading of the classical texts of Islamic law. The desire to instrumentalize the state coupled with their narrow understanding of what counts as “Islamic” defines the Taliban’s Islamist politics: harsh, uncompromising, and unsympathetic to any relation between state and society based on pluralism and democratic principles.
The closest counterpart to the Taliban brand of political Islam in its structure may be the Iranian Velayat Faqih, the Guardianship of the Islamic Jurist. However, the Iranian model, compared to the Taliban’s version, allows for a circumscribed democracy and limited pluralism because of a whole host of elements in Iranian history and society that act as the counterweight to the theocratic pull of Guardianship of the Islamic Jurist. In the peace process in Afghanistan, the question is whether the relatively democratic and pluralistic post-2001 order can be that counterweight to the Taliban’s brand of Islamist politics? Is the post-2001 order robust and cohesive enough to do that?
The answers to these questions remain to be seen. But the case of Iran offers, at least, one broad lesson: there is a need for a localized intra-Islamic dialogue about democracy and pluralism. In Iran, a group of influential religious scholars, deeply embedded in Iranian society, have always aligned themselves with democratic forces. This alliance has been instrumental in fostering and safeguarding the limited democracy in Iran. In Afghanistan, currently, the democratic coalition does not have a comparable alliance with religious scholars. Democratic forces in Afghanistan should forge such alliances to strengthen their position in negotiating a future constitution with the Taliban, and beyond that, to survive in a Taliban-dominated political system.
Haroun Rahimi is assistant professor of law at the American University of Afghanistan. He is also a visiting research fellow at the Oxford Center for Islamic Studies. His research interests are law and development, institutional reform, and Islam and politics.
Mullah Abdul Ghani Baradar, the Taliban's deputy leader and negotiator, and other delegation members attend the Afghan peace conference in Moscow, Russia March 18, 2021. Alexander Zemlianichenko/Pool via REUTERS|United States Air Force Lockheed C-130 Hercules approaches the landing strip over five Mine Resistant Ambush Protected vehicles, carrying equipment from Afghanistan, on June 12, 2021, at the Ali Al Salem Air Base, Kuwait. (U.S. Army photo by Maj. John Forrister, 101st Division Sustainment Brigade). (MAJ John Forrister, 101st Division Sustainment Brigade)
Two years ago on Feb. 24, 2022, the world watched as Russian tanks rolled into the outskirts of Kyiv and missiles struck the capital city.
Contrary to initial predictions, Kyiv never fell, but the country today remains embroiled in conflict. The front line holds in the southeastern region of the country, with contested areas largely focused on the Russian-speaking Donbas and port cities around the Black Sea.
Russian President Vladimir Putin, having recognized the Russian-occupied territories of Donetsk and Luhansk as independent days before the invasion, has from the beginning declared the war a “special military operation” to “demilitarize and denazify” Ukraine. His goals have alternated, however, between existential — bringing all of Ukraine into the influence of Russia — and strategic — laying claim to only those Russian-speaking areas in the east and south of the country.
It is in the latter that Russia has been much more successful. Yet after two winters of brutal fighting and hundreds of thousands of casualties on both sides, as of the end of 2023 Russia only laid claim to 18% of Ukraine’s territory, as compared to 7% on the eve of the war and 27% in the weeks after the invasion.
Meanwhile, the West’s coffers have been opened — and, as some say, drained — to help Ukraine’s government, led by President Volodymyr Zelensky, defend itself against Moscow.
Regardless, Ukraine’s military forces have been wholly depleted as they compete with a much more resourced and populous Russia. While Ukraine’s military campaign was able to take advantage of Russian tactical mistakes in the first year, its much-heralded counteroffensive in 2023 failed to provide the boost needed not only to rid the country of the Russian occupation, but also to put Kyiv in the best position to call for terms.
If anything, as Quincy Institute experts Anatol Lieven and George Beebe point out in their new brief, “there is now little realistic prospect of further Ukrainian territorial gains on the battlefield, and there is a significant risk that Ukraine might exhaust its manpower and munitions and lay itself open to a devastating Russian counterattack.”
The only and best solution, they say, is to drive all sides to the negotiating table before Ukraine is destroyed.
The narrative of the war — how it began, where it is today — is well documented. On the second anniversary of Russia’s full-scale invasion, RS thought it might be instructive to look at the numbers — weapons, aid, polling, population, and more — that illustrate the cost and the contours of the conflict over 24 months, and counting.
The U.S. Congress has allocated a total of $113 billion in funding related to the war. The vast majority of this money went directly to defending Ukraine ($45.2 billion in military aid) and keeping its government and society functioning ($46 billion in economic and humanitarian aid). Other funds went to rearming allies ($4.7 billion) and expanding U.S. military operations in Europe ($15.2 billion).
After two years of war, that funding has dried up. The Biden administration, which once shipped two or three new weapons packages each month, has not sent Ukraine a major arms shipment since Dec. 27, 2023. As Congress struggles to pass an additional $60 billion in Ukraine-related funding, observers increasingly believe that aid package may have been the last.
The Pentagon has sent at least 3,097,000 rounds of artillery to Ukraine since Russia’s invasion. Most of those (2,000,000) have been 155 mm shells, the standard size used by the U.S. and its NATO allies. For perspective, that’s about 95,000 tons of 155 mm ammunition alone.
Despite ramping up military manufacturing, the U.S. still only produces about 340,000 155 mm shells per year, meaning that Ukraine has been firing rounds at three times the rate of American production.
Washington has also given Kyiv 76 tanks, including 31 Abrams tanks and 45 Soviet-era T-72Bs. Ukraine has received 3,631 American armored vehicles of various types, from infantry fighting vehicles to personnel carriers and medical trucks.
Meanwhile, Ukraine has made use of 39 American-made HIMARS, a mobile rocket launcher that has become famous for its utility in the war. As for smaller arms, the U.S. has sent at least 400,000,000 grenades and bullets in the past 24 months.
The war has killed at least 10,378 civilians and injured an additional 19,632, according to the UN. More than three in four non-combatant casualties occurred in areas held by the Ukrainian government, indicating that Moscow is responsible for the lion’s share of civilian harm.
When it comes to military casualties, good data still remains hard to come by and estimates are sometimes wildly different. Neither Russia nor Ukraine have offered detailed, public indications of the war’s impact on their soldiers.
The U.S. estimated in August that 70,000 Ukrainian soldiers had died and an additional 100,000 to 120,000 had been injured, putting the number of total casualties at over 170,000. Russia, for its part, claimed in November that 383,000 Ukrainian soldiers had been killed or wounded.
On the other side, the United Kingdom estimates that Russia has suffered at least 320,000 casualties, with 50,000 deaths among Russian soldiers and 20,000 deaths among Wagner Group mercenaries. Washington said in December that Moscow had suffered 315,000 casualties, though American officials did not provide a breakdown of deaths and injuries.
The United Nations estimates that the Ukrainian population (the entire country within internationally recognized borders), which totaled 43.5 million people in 2021, dropped to 39.7 million in 2022 as war swept through the country’s east. This trend continued into 2023, as the population dropped to 36.7 million — the lowest level since Ukraine became independent in 1990.
As of January, 6.3 million Ukrainians have become refugees abroad, with another 3.7 million displaced internally. As the frontlines have settled, Ukraine’s population has slowly started to grow again, reaching 37.9 million in early 2024. Meanwhile, demographer Elena Libanova estimates that only 28 million of those people live within areas currently under Ukrainian government control (outside of Crimea and the Donbas).
Two new polls that came out within the last week illustrate the complexities of Americans’ feelings toward the war in Ukraine and the U.S. role in it.
First, a Pew poll published February 16 found that a large majority of Americans (74%) see the war between Russia and Ukraine as somewhat (30%) or very important (43%) to U.S. interests. And another survey, from the Harris Poll and the Quincy Institute, which publishes Responsible Statecraft, found that Americans broadly support a U.S.-led negotiated end to the conflict.
But the past few months in Washington have been largely focused on U.S. aid to Ukraine, specifically whether Congress will pass President Biden’s request for roughly $60 billion for Kyiv’s fight against Russia.
According to Pew, in March 2022, 74% of Americans said U.S. aid to Ukraine was “just right” or “not enough.” In December 2023, that same survey found that just 47% said the same. The biggest change came from Republicans: 49% said in March, 2022 that U.S. aid was “not enough,” while just 13% said the same in December.
Meanwhile, Gallup found in August 2022 that 74% of Americans said U.S. aid to Ukraine was “about right” (36%) or “not enough” (38%). Those numbers came down slightly in Gallup’s latest track on this question in October, 2023, with 58% saying U.S. aid was about right (33%) or not enough (25%).
There have been several attempts to bring nations together to outline talks to end the war. Russia and Ukraine engaged in five rounds of talks in Belarus and Turkey shortly after the invasion, but the talks collapsed amid allegations of Russian war crimes and Western pressure on Kyiv to keep fighting.
Since then, the belligerents have spoken directly about secondary issues, like Black Sea shipping and prisoner swaps. Ukraine, meanwhile, laid out a “10-point peace plan” that has formed the basis for five international summits, none of which included Russia. These took place in Copenhagen, Denmark, in June 2023; in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, in August 2023; in Malta in October, 2023; in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, in December 2023; and Davos, Switzerland, in January of this year.
Since the start of the war, Congress has passed four aid packages for Ukraine, totaling $113 billion. While none of the four packages were identical and aid for Ukraine was sometimes bundled with other spending, the trends for support for Kyiv in Congress are similar to those we see in polling, particularly among congressional Republicans.
The 2022 supplemental, which became law in May 2022 and provided Ukraine with $39.34 billion in aid passed the House 368-57 and the Senate by a vote of 86-11. By September 2023, when the House voted on the Ukraine Security Assistance and Oversight Supplemental Appropriations Act, which provided Kyiv with $300 million in security assistance, it passed by a vote of 311-117, with a majority of Republican members opposing the legislation.
On February 12 of this year, the Senate voted 70-29 to pass a national security supplemental, which would provide approximately $60 billion in aid for Kyiv alongside money for Israel and partners in the Indo-Pacific. The bill has not yet been voted on in the House.
Ben Armbruster, Blaise Malley, Connor Echols and Kelley Vlahos contributed reporting. Graphics by Khody Akhavi.
keep readingShow less
A woman lays flowers at the monument to the victims of political repressions following the death of Russian opposition leader Alexei Navalny, in Moscow, Russia February 16, 2024. REUTERS/Stringer
President Biden was entirely correct in the first part of his judgment on the death of Alexei Navalny: “Putin is responsible, whether he ordered it, or he is responsible for the circumstances he put that man in.” Even if Navalny eventually died of “natural causes,” his previous poisoning, and the circumstances of his imprisonment, must obviously be considered as critical factors in his death.
For his tremendous courage in returning to Russia after his medical treatment in the West — knowing well the dangers that he faced — the memory of Navalny should be held in great honor. He joins the immense list of Russians who have died for their beliefs at the hands of the state. Public expressions of anger and disgust at the manner of his death are justified and correct.
The problem comes with the other part of Biden’s statement, that “[Navalny’s death] is a reflection of who [Putin] is. And it just cannot be tolerated.” If he had said “approved,” “justified,” or “defended,” that would have been absolutely right. But “tolerated”? What can Biden do in response, that he has not done already?
The U.S. president has promised major new sanctions intended to “cut Russia off from the world economy” — but that requires Washington to control the world economy. Economic sanctions against Russia in response to the invasion of Ukraine have failed, and even strengthened the Russian economy and the state’s grip on it. They cannot be significantly extended, because this would damage and infuriate countries that are dependent on Russian energy exports, including India, a key U.S. partner. As to sanctions against Russian individuals part of or linked to the Russian regime, there are already thousands of them, and they have had no effect whatsoever.
Statements like Biden’s are both pointless and dangerous. For the spoken or unspoken implication is that it is impossible to deal with Putin. But like it or not, Putin is the president of Russia. To all appearances, he will remain so for a considerable time to come, and will hand over to a successor of his own choosing. The Biden administration has said that it wants Ukrainian victory (whatever that now means), but it has also said that it believes that the war will end in negotiations, and following the failure of last year’s Ukrainian offensive, is now reported to be moving in this direction.
Who does Biden think that he will negotiate with, if not Putin? Seeking talks on an end to the Ukraine war does not imply approval of Putin’s crimes or his invasion of Ukraine, any more than the Eisenhower administration’s negotiation of an end to the Korean War implied approval of the North Korean regime and its invasion of South Korea.
By its own account, the Biden administration has supposedly made the promotion of democracy around the world a central part of its diplomacy, with the clear implication that only democratic governments that respect human rights are truly legitimate. Actual U.S. diplomacy does not work like this and never has; not because of American imperialist or capitalist wickedness, but because the world does not work like this.
Nobody should be required to like or admire the governments of Abdel Fattah Al-Sisi, Mohammed Bin Salman or Narendra Modi (though we might well wish that U.S. officials had been less effusive in their praise of them). Like Putin, they are however the heads of their countries’ governments, and likely to remain so. You deal with Saudi Arabia and India — and you have to deal with Saudi Arabia and India — you deal with MBS and Modi.
The other thing to be wary of in the outpouring of outrage at the death of Navalny, is that this is already being used to build a strategy of greatly increased Western official support for the Russian opposition. Many (not all) people and groups in the Russian liberal opposition are personally and politically admirable. Some, like Navalny, have shown tremendous courage. To say this is quite different from believing that they are ever likely to form the government of Russia, and that the U.S. should base its policy towards Russia on the hope that this will be so.
The sad truth is that the Ukraine war has placed the Russian liberal opposition in a politically impossible position. Having been largely chased into exile by Putin, they are dependent on Western support. This means however that their principled opposition to the Russian invasion can be portrayed by the Russian government — and is seen by many ordinary Russians — as treason in time of war. As with the Iranian, Chinese, and other oppositions, official support from Washington only allows the ruling regimes to paint the name “traitor” in brighter colors.
A combination (differing from individual to individual) of idealism, dependence on the West and hatred of Putin means that instead of advocating a compromise peace in Ukraine, many Russian oppositionists have — willingly or unwillingly — identified themselves with Ukrainian and Western positions that explicitly demand complete Russian defeat.
And while not many Russians wanted the war, not many Russians want to see Russia defeated. As I have remarked before, even many Americans who strongly opposed the war in Vietnam were outraged when Jane Fonda went to Hanoi. If she stood a chance of being elected to any office in the U.S. before that trip, she certainly didn’t afterwards.
Any hope of rebuilding liberalism in Russia (and indeed Ukraine, albeit to a much lesser extent) therefore requires an end to the war. For some degree of authoritarianism is a natural accompaniment to every war, and regimes all over the world have exploited this to increase their own power. Equally importantly, mass support for Putin is critically dependent on the general belief that the West intends not just to defeat Russia but to cripple it as a state, and that to prevent this it is essential to support the government.
For the moment at least, this has eclipsed previously widespread resentments —which Navalny channeled — at regime corruption. No amount of Western or Russian opposition propaganda can change this Russian picture. Peace might, if it is given a chance.
For the third year in a row, globally, the number of investors in nuclear weapons producers has fallen but the overall amount invested in these companies has increased, largely thanks to some of the biggest investment banks and funds in the U.S.
“As for the U.S., while there is, like past years, indeed a dominance, and total financing from U.S.-based institutions has increased, the total number of U.S. investors has dropped for the third year in a row (similar to our global findings), and we hope to see this number will continue to fall in the coming years,” Alejandar Munoz, the report’s primary author, told Responsible Statecraft.
In 2023, the top 10 share and bondholders of nuclear weapons producing companies are all American firms. The firms — Vanguard, Capital Group, State Street, BlackRock, Wellington Management, Fidelity Investments, Newport Group, Geode Capital Holdings, Bank of America and Morgan Stanley — held $327 billion in investments in nuclear weapons producing companies in 2023, an $18 billion increase from 2022.
These companies are also profiting from the enormous government contracts they receive for developing and modernizing nuclear weapons.
“All nuclear-armed states are currently modernizing their nuclear weapon systems,” says the annual “Don’t Bank on the Bomb” report from PAX and ICAN. “In 2022, the nine nuclear-armed states together spent $82.9 billion on their nuclear weapons arsenals, an increase of $2.5 billion compared to the previous year, and with the United States spending more than all other nuclear powers combined.”
American weapons companies are some of the biggest recipients of contracts for nuclear weapons. Northrop Grumman and General Dynamics are “the biggest nuclear weapons profiteers,” according to the report. Combined, the two American weapons manufacturers have outstanding nuclear weapons related contracts with a combined potential value of at least $44.9 billion.
Those enormous government contracts for nuclear weapons, alongside contracts for conventional weapons, have helped make nuclear weapons producers an attractive investment for American investment banks and funds.
“Altogether, 287 financial institutions were identified for having substantial financing or investment relations with 24 companies involved in nuclear weapon production,” says the report. “$477 billion was held in bonds and shares, and $343 billion was provided in loans and underwriting.”
The report notes that while the total amount invested in nuclear weapons has increased, the number of investors has fallen and trends toward firms in countries with nuclear weapons.
ICAN and PAX suggest that concentration may be a result of prohibitions on nuclear weapons development for signatories to the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW), a 93 signatory treaty committing to the ultimate goal of the total elimination of nuclear weapons. The report says:
The TPNW comprehensively prohibits the development, manufacturing, testing, possession, use and threat of use of nuclear weapons, as well as assistance with those acts. For companies that build the key components needed to maintain and expand countries’ nuclear arsenals, access to private funding is crucial. As such, the banks, pension funds, asset managers and other financiers that continue to invest in or grant credit to these companies allow for the production of inhumane and indiscriminate weapons to proceed. By divesting from their business relationships with these companies, financial institutions can reduce available capital for nuclear weapon related activities and thereby be instrumental in supporting the fulfilment of the TPNW’s objectives.
Susi Snyder, managing director of the Don’t Bank on the Bomb Project, told Responsible Statecraft that even U.S. banks, like Pittsburgh based PNC Bank, are facing shareholder pressure to divest from nuclear weapons and that the tide may be shifting as shareholders in U.S. companies grow increasingly sensitive to investments in nuclear weapons.
“For three years shareholder resolutions have been put forward at PNC bank raising concerns that their investments in nuclear weapon producers are a violation of the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW), and that they are not in line with the bank's overall human rights policy guidelines,” she said.