Before the Taliban swept to power across Afghanistan last year, one social activist had a firm grip on her aspirations.

As a university student in Kabul, Ms. F. was determined to make a difference in her country, where civil society was still a nascent, fragile concept, even after two decades flush with Western cash and attention.

She had worked to educate illiterate Afghan women in mosques, free of charge. She volunteered for nonprofits to create gender equality, to protect street children, and to empower youth and women – all experiences that now help her cope with a world turned upside down by Taliban rule. She’s repurposing her activism to create a secret school.

“I am a dreamer girl. I had many goals,” says the 22-year-old, who, like others quoted in this story, asked that her full name not be used due to risk of retribution. A year ago, she pictured herself becoming Afghanistan’s economy minister, possibly the first member of her Hazara ethnic minority to hold the post.

But then the darkness of Taliban rule came, swiftly extinguishing much of what Ms. F. and other activists thought was possible. Overnight, their visions for Afghanistan ran headlong into the Taliban’s radical interpretation of Islam, under which women are allowed little public role.

The abrupt American and NATO troop withdrawal last August brought a chaotic end to America’s longest-ever war, after 20 years. And while the Taliban takeover has yielded unaccustomed security – or at least a lack of war – the sudden end to billions of dollars in Western funds has contributed to a stark humanitarian crisis.

Fear of strict Taliban rule after a 20-year hiatus sparked a panicked exodus of tens of thousands of Afghans. And for many who stayed, like Ms. F., that fear turned to depression, as life suddenly felt restricted in every way. But Ms. F. and other “dreamers” and activists like her are navigating their way through these new realities, trying to identify creative solutions to the exacerbated challenges Afghans – and particularly women – face.

“Everything has changed,” says Ms. F., who erased her social media accounts – and their evidence of her past social activism. “Today I think one year of life is wasted.”

Still, Ms. F. found a way to ease her despair. Three months after the Taliban took charge, and failed to reopen girls’ high schools, she started an underground school that now has 150 students. She teaches English, and her sister, a medical student, teaches math.

Ebrahim Noroozi/AP

Afghan girls hold a protest in a private home to demand their right to education, in Kabul, Afghanistan, Aug. 2, 2022. Protesting, even in private, is illegal.

“I thought education is the only way they can see a bright future,” says Ms. F., referring to school-aged girls. “We try to stay safe here. ... We are afraid of the Taliban if they discover us. But this is the only door of hope for girls, and the only thing which inspires me.”

For Ms. F., the secret school and its students who risk so much to attend serve as a model of resilience.

“I tell them, ‘You are heroes who can rise from the darkest and worst situation,’” she says.

“Recalibrating activism”

Taliban militants on Monday marked their one-year anniversary in power with celebratory marches in central Kabul and the southern Taliban stronghold of Kandahar.

Despite nationwide poverty, drought, and extensive malnutrition – which have shown the Taliban ill-equipped to provide for the most basic needs of its citizens – civil society and international NGOs grate at the Taliban’s narrow focus on control over society and the lives of women.

Among the litany of Western critiques of Taliban rule, Amnesty International in late July described a “suffocating crackdown” that deprived millions of women and girls of their “right to lead safe, free and fulfilling lives.”

Indeed, a small protest by some 40 women in the capital this week – the first in months – was dispersed by Taliban gunmen firing into the air. Women who protested over the past year – and others caught breaking Taliban rules – were often arrested, beaten, and tortured in custody, according to Amnesty.

“Recalibrating activism – this is what women have been doing,” says a Western official in Kabul, who asked not to be identified for security reasons. She sees this recalibration as a form of resilience, with women viewing their activism as more of a “stepping stone toward” change, she says.

Ebrahim Noroozi/AP

The Taliban marked the first anniversary of their takeover of the Afghan capital, Kabul, after the country's Western-backed government fled and the Afghan military crumbled in the face of the insurgents' advance last year. Taliban fighters marked the date by celebrating in front of the U.S. Embassy in Kabul on Aug. 15, 2022.

“Compared to the last time the Taliban were in power, you see people a lot more creative now, using technology, trying to understand exactly what the Taliban’s objections are to things,” says the official, noting that not every broken rule is considered a death sentence.

Coping in a different way is Ms. S., a 15-year veteran of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, who – like many women at Afghan ministries – is still technically employed, but not allowed to come to work. Instead, each month she collects a portion of her previous salary.

“We are asked – it’s obligatory – to stay home, all of the women, unfortunately,” says Ms. S., a former diplomat.

Even getting to the payment office requires passing Taliban guards that can be so rude that Ms. S. last week complained to their superiors. She has received threats for writing critical social media posts about the dire situation under the Taliban – ignoring the advice of friends and family to keep quiet.

“The people are not ready to raise their voice,” says Ms. S. “Why? Because they are captured and seized by Taliban.”

She nevertheless writes about problems that affect everyone from “an educated woman like me to a poor street seller,” such as the economy, the teacher shortage, and an education system that “has stopped.”

“You can stand against them with any ability that you have,” says Ms. S. of her desire to describe challenges of life under Taliban rule. “When we have the ability to write, and an understanding mind, why don’t we do it?”

“Living in another world”

Changes wrought by Taliban rule have been dramatic for a medical student in the northern city of Mazar-e-Sharif, as well. Prior to the Taliban taking power, Ms. N. says she lived a “very peaceful life without fear and terror, free like a bird” as an activist, doing “many useful things in defense of women’s and children’s rights.” She was passionate about trying to end the tradition of forced and underage marriage.

“Unfortunately, in only one day, everything disappeared because the whole world left Afghan women alone,” says Ms. N., who has continued her university studies, despite the extreme restrictions implemented by the Taliban. She says continuing her studies is part of her own form of resistance.

But the experience of going to school has completely changed. Many professors fled with the government’s fall, and the quality of her courses has noticeably declined, says Ms. N. Taliban fighters stand at the university gate, insisting that women wear full head and body cover – in black only. The Taliban’s presence has deflated student motivation, she says.

Last month, she was stopped by a guard who told her to “go back home and never come again with these clothes,” she says. She pleaded that her hijab was correct and she would miss an important class. His response: “Go, otherwise I will kill you.”

Ms. N. has also felt profoundly the personal impact of the Taliban’s rise. Her older brother was a member of the Afghan National Police and fled under threat to Turkey via smuggling routes through Iran last year.

For five years, Ms. N.’s father paid her school fees with income from his butcher shop, which he had to sell when the Taliban took power because of the lack of customers in the market.

The family’s economic situation became so acute that, five months ago, her father forced Ms. N.’s 15-year-old sister into an underage marriage. Part of the motivation was to pay Ms. N.’s university costs.

“Before the Taliban I was fighting against forced and underage marriage,” says Ms. N. “Now, I sacrificed my sister, and I will never forgive myself.”

She says she would leave Afghanistan if she could.

“Every step we take the Taliban creates obstacles,” says Ms. N., explaining that several members of her organization were “mysteriously” killed and she fears for her own life.

“Right now, I am feeling like I’m in a prison,” she says.

Back in Kabul, girls arrive at Ms. F.’s secret school one by one to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Some 30 students are taught each hour, sitting on the carpeted floor – there is no money for chairs or desks – in a room rented in a neighbor’s home.

The Taliban “took our freedom, they took the right of education and work from women,” says Ms. F. But she can see the difference even this small-scale effort has on her students’ lives – and the future of her country.

The girls “always say when they come here, ‘We forget all the bad and negative things. We think we are living in another world.’”

Hidayatullah Noorzai contributed to this report. 

Eranga Jayawardena/AP

A Sri Lankan port worker holds a Chinese national flag to welcome Chinese missile-tracking ship Yuan Wang 5 as it arrives in Hambantota International Port in Hambantota, Sri Lanka, Aug. 16, 2022. The ship was set to arrive Aug. 11, but the port call was deferred due to apparent security concerns raised by India.

China’s financing and operation of Sri Lanka’s Hambantota port, where a Chinese missile-tracking vessel docked this week despite objections from the United States and India, have been raised as a cautionary example of “debt trap diplomacy” – a strategy in which a country loans money to smaller nations, which may not be able to repay their debts, as a way to boost geopolitical influence. Some even blame China for the island nation’s economic nosedive. Yet experts say Sri Lanka’s debt crisis is more complicated, and China is just one player, albeit an important one.

How has China’s lending contributed to Sri Lanka’s debt crisis?

China is Sri Lanka’s biggest bilateral creditor. 

Sri Lanka’s total public and publicly guaranteed debt was $35.8 billion at the end of 2021. Of that amount, lending by China accounted for $7.1 billion, or 20%, compared with less than 1% in 2001, according to data from Sri Lanka’s finance ministry analyzed by researchers. 

Nevertheless, experts say Sri Lanka’s borrowing from China, while significant, is not the main cause of the debt crisis, which saw the country default on its foreign debt for the first time in May. The country’s largest foreign lending source is international sovereign bonds, accounting for 36.5% at the end of 2021. These bonds constituted an even greater share of Sri Lanka’s 2021 foreign debt repayments: 47% compared with China’s 20%. 

“The debt crisis is the result of Sri Lanka’s … own poor public finance management,” says Subhashini Abeysinghe, research director at Verite Research, an independent think tank in Colombo. The government’s inability to generate adequate revenue, persistent budget deficits, tax cuts, and meager foreign currency reserves all contributed, she explains. 

Meanwhile, “Sri Lanka refused to go to the IMF [International Monetary Fund] or start discussions with lenders on debt restructuring until it [was] too late,” she says.

What is the outlook for China restructuring Sri Lanka’s debt? 

China does have a critical role to play in helping Sri Lanka extricate itself from the crisis, experts say.

Based on past practice, Beijing is unlikely to write off loans, but could lengthen repayment periods, says Deborah Brautigam, director of the China Africa Research Initiative at the Johns Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies. Having taken risks with “overexuberant” lending to poor countries, China avoids disclosing details of restructuring agreements to maintain its bargaining leverage. “Chinese, like any creditors, don’t want to lay out a template for what another country can get,” she says. 

Moreover, she says such agreements are not popular at home, especially as domestic debt issues mount.

China’s financial institutions are consulting with Sri Lanka on “a proper way to handle the matured China-related debts,” Foreign Ministry spokesman Wang Wenbin said last month. However, no concrete steps have been revealed. 

“There is no evidence China is really trying to help Sri Lanka at this time,” says Nilanthi Samaranayake, director of the Strategy and Policy Analysis Program at CNA, an independent research organization in Arlington, Virginia. 

Sri Lankan President Ranil Wickremesinghe says he’s encouraged by China’s recent agreement as part of an international committee of creditors to provide debt relief to Zambia. But he noted many creditors want Sri Lanka to seek relief first from the International Monetary Fund.

Is China using its economic power to gain strategic leverage in Sri Lanka?

When China’s satellite- and missile-tracking vessel Yuan Wang 5 docked at Sri Lanka’s Hambantota port this week – despite objections raised by India – experts said it showed how Beijing is using its economic heft to extend its power in the region. 

The visit “reflects the continued significance of the Indian Ocean … to China’s strategic interests, and the growing importance of China’s state-owned firms in facilitating China’s global power projection,” said Jeffrey Becker, director of the Indo-Pacific Security Affairs Program at CNA. The dual-use ship helps China control and track its spaced-based civilian and military assets, he says.

China loaned Sri Lanka $1.26 billion to finance the Hambantota port from 2007 to 2014. As Sri Lanka’s debts mounted, China’s state-run firm China Merchants Port Holdings took over management of the port under a 99-year lease for $1.12 billion, which Sri Lanka used to strengthen its foreign reserves.  

India is concerned China will use the Hambantota port for military purposes. Sri Lanka delayed the visit for diplomatic consultations, then allowed the Yuan Wang 5 to dock on the stipulation it not conduct any research while in Sri Lankan waters. “Sri Lanka is trying not to get ensnared in the China-India rivalry,” says Dr. Samaranayake, noting that Sri Lanka has a tradition of welcoming foreign vessels and the revenue they generate.  

The incident illustrates how Sri Lanka must increasingly balance its relationship with longtime ally India, and major creditor China. “India and China will go back and forth … in South Asia, pushing against smaller and weaker countries,” says Dr. Brautigam. “A little country like Sri Lanka is just going to be a pingpong ball.”

In 2022, the biggest-budget shows on the small screen engage in what’s termed “world building.” 

These sci-fi and fantasy programs are escapist entertainment, but only up to a point. It’s hard to avoid drawing parallels between world-building narratives and modern-day issues. 

Whether it’s Elves pitted against Dwarves in Middle-earth (Amazon’s “The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power,” debuting Sept. 1, rated TV-14), rival houses vying for power in Westeros (HBO’s “Game of Thrones” prequel “House of the Dragon,” premiering Aug. 21, rated TV-MA), or the United Federation of Planets’ racist attitude toward Romulans (Paramount+’s “Star Trek: Picard,” final season due in 2023), these tales often reflect tribalism in the real world. 

It’s a recognition that an “us versus them” instinct has beset humankind since, well, forever. Yet these adventures also offer timeless ideals. Archetypal heroes illustrate the leadership qualities that can ameliorate polarization and develop unity and cooperation.

“The mandate when you’re telling stories is to find something where there’s some tension,” says Daniel Abraham, co-author of “The Expanse” novels that were adapted into a recent Amazon series (for ages 16-plus). “The thing that epic fantasy and science fiction lend themselves to on this kind of scale is there’s a largeness to the stories. They’re well built for telling stories about clashes between cultures and nations.”

In “The Expanse,” the solar system is divided into three warring factions: the people of Earth, those who have colonized Mars, and Belters, who mine asteroids in deep space. The miners are an exploited caste, recognizable by their tall and thin physiology because they live in a low-gravity environment. They speak a language called Belter Creole. At its core, “The Expanse” is a critique of racism and tribalism. The difference between the heroes and villains is a narrow versus expansive view of humanity. 

Courtesy of Amazon Studios

Amazon’s “The Expanse” features actors (from left) Wes Chatham, Nadine Nicole, Frankie Adams, Steven Strait, and Dominique Tipper. The show is about warring factions on Earth, on Mars, and in space.

“One of those two people says, ‘I want world peace and I’m going to try to build consensus among world leaders that allows us to negotiate our problems,’” says Ty Franck, the other author of “The Expanse” books, which are published under the joint pen name James S.A. Corey. “And the other one says, ‘I’m going to get world peace by killing everybody who doesn’t belong to my tribe.’” 

Although “The Expanse” seems to reflect our current milieu, its authors primarily drew inspiration from the pre-classical era in which tyrants ruled city-states. They note that history tends to repeat itself. For that reason, viewers read contemporary politics into fantastical genres.  

When “Game of Thrones” – based on a series written by George R.R. Martin – was on air, Ñusta Carranza Ko noticed that her students in the School of Public and International Affairs at the University of Baltimore regularly referenced the show’s tribal politics in classes. “It reminds me of Thomas Hobbes’ great notion of group egoism,” says Ms. Ko, who co-wrote the book “Game of Thrones and Theories of International Relations” with Laura Young, political science and international studies department chair at Georgia Gwinnett College. “That kind of notion of our group, and our interests versus that of others, gets interfaced multiple times in the ‘Game of Thrones.’”

A common trope in fantastical stories such as “The Expanse” and “Game of Thrones” is that individuals from disparate groups have to learn to see beyond narrow interests based on group identity. They’re compelled to do so by an existential threat that threatens all of them. 

For instance, in Amazon’s latest Tolkien adaptation, the Elf Galadriel leads a fellowship consisting of representatives of various Middle-earth factions. Dwarves, Elves, Men, and Harfoots (precursors to Hobbits, who share a similar disdain for footwear) unite in a quest to combat the evil Sauron. 

The plot seems consonant with themes that Mr. Tolkien elucidated in “The Lord of the Rings.” As individuals overcome their personal prejudices about others, it represents the overcoming of tribalism.

Those who study conflict resolution have observed that when individuals from competing camps unite to solve a common problem, it helps create a new shared identity. “[Mr. Tolkien’s] really exploring two different aspects of humanity. He’s trying to explore what our individual self is and what we can do heroically as individuals. But he’s also trying to fit that within the other side, and that is our desire to be part of the community in some way,” says Bradley Birzer, author of “J.R.R. Tolkien’s Sanctifying Myth: Understanding Middle-earth.” 

Once the disparate characters join forces with those of other factions, they don’t give up their original identities. But they don’t remain beholden to them either. “The Expanse” character Naomi Nagata embodies that duality by code-switching between her native Belter language and English. 

The archetypal heroes in these stories exemplify leadership qualities that promote cooperation. They’re able to empathize with multiple groups because they themselves are outsiders by nature. Jon Snow, the hero of “Game of Thrones,” believes that he is the misbegotten son of Ned Stark, Lord of Winterfell. James Holden, the heroic spaceship captain in “The Expanse,” has eight genetic parents. (This is science fiction. It’s complicated.) 

Courtesy of Warner Media

Milly Alcock (foreground) and Paddy Considine (background) star in “House of the Dragon,” a “Game of Thrones” prequel from HBO.

“There are leaders who might try to unite people through sheer force but that tends not to work,” says Daniel Drezner, a professor of international politics at Tufts University, who has written columns for The Washington Post about the political messages of “The Expanse” and “Game of Thrones.” “And then there are leaders who can unite because they have sufficient amounts of empathy and theory of mind to understand not just where they’re coming from, but where their potential allies are coming from.”

The protagonist’s ability to forge a compromise comes from developing a balance between masculine and feminine qualities. In his 2004 book, “The Seven Basic Plots: Why We Tell Stories,” Christopher Booker describes the hero’s journey as an arc in which the embrace of feminine characteristics brings “masculine strength fully to life by giving it the vital ingredient of connection ... which gives a link to others and to the world outside of ego.”

In the final beat of these stories, the protagonist often makes a difficult choice (spoilers ahead). Jon Snow gives up his claim to the Iron Throne. Not just because a chair constructed of swords is perhaps the world’s least comfortable piece of furniture, but because he realizes that lust for power perpetuates group conflict. Similarly, in “The Expanse,” James Holden relinquishes his ego by stepping aside as president of a new intergalactic trade union. He cedes the position to a Belter and thus empowers the solar system’s repressed underclass. It’s setting aside a narrow affiliation with his original identity for the greater good of humanity. “He’s trying to lean toward the light,” explains Mr. Abraham. “That’s what makes him a hero.”

He and his fellow author admit that the character represents an idealism. 

“I’m a person who believes that we have enough cynicism in the world,” says Mr. Franck. “I think maybe that the piece we’re missing in our heroes right now is a little naiveté.” 

ESO

The galaxy NGC 7727 was born from the merger of two galaxies that started around a billion years ago. At its center, two supermassive black holes are spiraling toward each other.

Earlier this week the European Southern Observatory published a new image captured by its Very Large Telescope in the Atacama Desert of northern Chile. It shows two galaxies merging in the constellation Aquarius. At the center of this massive swirl of stars and dust is the closest pair of black holes to Earth, drawing toward each other with irresistible attraction.

If you missed the photo, just look up. The black holes will collide into each other in 250 million years – a mere cosmic blink of the eye.

That metaphor is only partly a jest. When Galileo pointed a telescope at Jupiter in 1610 and discovered its moons, he was looking back in time 36 minutes (the interval it takes for light to travel the distance between Earth and its giant neighbor). “I give thanks to God,” he wrote, “who has been pleased to make me the first observer of marvelous things.”

Now a new age of space exploration is making all of humanity joint observers of marvelous things. New telescopes here on Earth and suspended in space peer into imagination-bending distances – backward to the origin of the universe and forward to futures that have already happened.

Two weeks ago, NASA’s new James Webb Space Telescope sent back crisp images of the most faraway object ever seen, a star named Earendel 28 billion light-years away. The European Southern Observatory, meanwhile, is building a 39-meter (about 128 feet) earthbound telescope that will provide images 15 times sharper than what the Hubble Space Telescope could capture. Slated to start operating in 2027, it is designed to reveal new insights into dark energy, dark matter, and the formation of galaxies.

“Collectively, as a species, we are standing at the mouth of the deepest and darkest cave of all,” noted Guy P. Harrison, a science writer, in Psychology Today in May, before the Webb telescope sent back its first images. “As we lean in and turn on the flashlight, we can be confident that wonderful secrets await.”

One of those secrets may be an answer to the persistent question of whether life thrives elsewhere in the universe. Webb is an infrared telescope. If organisms or civilizations exist in other galaxies, it may detect their heat signatures. Yet the dazzling new views of celestial beauty may reveal deeper insights beyond just an expanding material universe.

“I have deep faith that the principle of the universe will be beautiful and simple,” Albert Einstein observed. “Everyone who is seriously involved in the pursuit of science becomes convinced that a spirit is manifest in the laws of the universe – a spirit vastly superior to that of man, and one in the face of which we with our modest powers must feel humble.”

Just as astronomy broke through the false concepts of a flat planet and Earth-centric universe, the latest telescopes are again breaking limits in human thought, perhaps revealing further insights into the beauty of a reality ordered on principle and law.