Left in limbo, Afghans who served with U.S. forces fear Trump could send them back to the Taliban

Those still at the camp struggled to fill their time, resting in the middle of the day to avoid the desert heat and walking streets named after U.S. states to help them discover what was supposed to be their new home. Schooling is limited, especially for older students.

Twice in the past year, Iranian strikes hit nearby Qatar — once last June in retaliation for U.S. strikes on Iranian nuclear facilities, and again during the U.S.-Israeli war against Iran that began on February 28.

The camp offers little protection against strikes, said VanDiver, whose group has received several recordings of residents “terrified” of missiles intercepted overhead.

The arrival of Afghan allies in the United States had already slowed as the Trump administration revamped the U.S. immigration system. But their hopes were further dashed in November when a shooting in Washington killed one National Guard member and seriously injured another.

The suspect, identified as Rahmanullah Lakanwal, 29, is an Afghan national who served alongside U.S. troops in an elite CIA-backed unit in Afghanistan. Lakanwal, who pleaded not guilty to nine federal charges last month, was granted asylum by the Trump administration last year after arriving in the United States during the Biden administration.

The Trump administration imposed tighter restrictions on Afghans after the attack, suspending asylum decisions, suspending visa issuance for all Afghan nationals and detaining refugees already in the country.

Afghans at the As Sayliyah camp condemned the attack, but say it was the work of a single individual.

“We want to ask the U.S. government not to link the crime of one Afghan with that of all Afghans,” said a woman named Salimi, a lawyer who has lived in the camp with her husband and two sons, ages 2 and 4, for more than a year.

Salimi, who asked to be identified only by her last name for security reasons, was allowed to be resettled in the United States because her legal work put her at risk of persecution by the Taliban.

She had her own law practice, primarily representing “poor, physically abused, divorce-seeking” women.

Many of her clients’ husbands were members of the Taliban, some of whom were imprisoned for physical abuse or other crimes, she said.

The night the Taliban returned to power, Salimi said, she received a call from an unknown number.

“You separated my wife from me and now she is married to another man and has another life,” the man on the other end of the line said. “You have to pay the price.”

Soon, Salimi learned that the Taliban were looking for her. Her office was closed as she tried to keep a low profile and find a way out.

Salimi was eventually able to apply for a U.S. visa, a process she said took seven or eight months, including security checks.

As she flew to Qatar in January 2025, Salimi thought her family’s future in the United States was finally secure, but Trump’s return to the White House just two weeks later upended their plans, with refugee resettlement halted and Afghan nationals barred from entering the United States.

“Facing an uncertain future makes our mind and spirit deteriorate day by day,” Salimi said. “What will happen to our future? What will they do with us?”

Women in particular suffered under the Taliban, who banned them from school beyond sixth grade, banned them from speaking and showing themselves naked in public, and suspended laws against rape and forced child marriage.

Break a promise

The U.S. government’s about-face on Afghan allies and their families has pained veterans such as retired Lt. Col. Mariah Smith, who served three tours in Afghanistan.

Translators such as Mohammad “have been absolutely critical to the success,” Smith said, making him “a primary target” of the Taliban and other terrorist groups.

“There was this expectation and promise, like if you help us, this is a way for you to come to America,” said Smith, vice president of No One Left Behind, an Arlington, Va.-based nonprofit that advocates for Afghan and Iraqi allies.

“That’s why I think it was so heartbreaking for so many veterans when we withdrew from Afghanistan,” she said, “because many of us felt like we were complicit in breaking that promise.” »

The treatment of Afghan allies could make people in other conflict zones “less willing to work with us,” she added.

Mohammad, who grew up in Kabul, signed up as a combat interpreter for the U.S. Army in 2009. That year, he was seriously injured in Helmand province when an improvised explosive device detonated, killing the U.S. Marine right in front of him.

After recovering, he was sent to Kabul to do non-combat translation work. But every day, he said, “just getting from home to the office was, you know, a matter of life and death.”

The risk was worth it, he said, “because of the value we saw in the presence of the international community in Afghanistan,” such as his sisters being able to go to school.

In 2014, he received a special immigrant visa and moved to Texas. He enlisted in the U.S. Army almost immediately to give back to the country that had changed his life.

After completing his service in 2016, Mohammad – now a US citizen – worked as a Department of Defense contractor in Afghanistan, until the withdrawal.

“It happened out of the blue, and it was very chaotic,” said Mohammad, who was in Kabul at the time. “I barely made it to the airport, got on the plane and got off the plane.”

With the Taliban returning to power, those with ties to the U.S. military and their relatives were targets. Mohammad’s family spent the next three years in hiding, his parents moving from place to place with four daughters and two sons.

“We couldn’t be all together in one place,” said his father, a history teacher also named Mohammad, who also declined to be fully identified for security reasons. “The Taliban intelligence services were constantly after us. »

The family was evacuated to Qatar in 2024 after young Mohammad learned of a program to help Afghan relatives of U.S. service members. “It was a big sigh of relief for me,” he said.

When Trump returned to power, the family had been fully processed and was just waiting for their U.S. visas and plane tickets. “Now we don’t know our fate,” said Mohammad, the eldest.

Several months ago, he said, people working in the camp began saying, “Why don’t you go back to Afghanistan? The country is calm and free now.” He said a State Department representative has since offered money to those who want to return.

Returning would mean certain death, Mohammad and his family say. His sister Faezeh, 29, tries to remain optimistic and says she hopes that “in the near future, Trump will change his mind.”

“Sometimes we think they are going to send us back by force. It is a very difficult concern,” she added. “Especially for those of us who have nothing to return to.”