A Sawab Center study on Daesh-Khorasan (Daesh-K) offers one of the clearest examinations yet of how a group born from the militant ecosystems of Afghanistan and Pakistan has developed an influence far beyond its geographic origins.
“Daesh” is a derogatory Arabic acronym for the terrorist outfit formally known as the Islamic State – Khorasan Province (ISKP or ISIS-K). Khorasan refers to a geographical region spanning parts of Iran, Afghanistan, and the five post-Soviet states of Central Asia.
While the report is global in scope, its findings point repeatedly to a central truth: the organisation’s evolution cannot be understood without understanding its South Asian foundations. Its ideological frameworks, recruitment pipelines, operational habits, and propaganda grammar all draw from the political and social currents of this region. And as the paper shows, Daesh-K’s internationalisation is not an abandonment of its South Asian core but an extension of it.
The group’s emergence in January 2015 as Daesh’s affiliate in the Afghanistan-Pakistan region was not an abrupt creation but the result of fertile conditions across multiple decades.
The Sawab Center traces these origins to disillusioned Taliban and Al-Qaeda members, disenfranchised youth, and a permissive insurgent environment. Over the past decade, Daesh-K has moved deftly to exploit governance vacuums, fractured institutions, and the absence of sustained counterterrorism pressure inside Afghanistan. This landscape allowed the group to learn to adapt, regenerate, and innovate.
The report underscores that the group’s ideological foundations are deeply tied to the militant traditions and religious discourses prominent in South Asia. The Hanafi Sunni tradition, which has long shaped religious life in Afghanistan and across the Indian subcontinent, serves as part of the historical backdrop against which more radical strains could gain traction.
While Daesh-K itself adheres to a hardline Salafist interpretation, the study makes clear that this region’s history of religious revivalism, politicisation of faith, and the tensions of post-Soviet transition in nearby Central Asia jointly created an environment in which extremist narratives could spread.
This ideological landscape intersects with a second major theme in the Sawab Center’s research: the transnational migration of labour from South Asia and Central Asia. Many of the foreign fighters who later joined extremist groups—whether Daesh in Iraq and Syria or Daesh-K in Afghanistan—were initially radicalised not at home but while working abroad, particularly in Russia.
These individuals, often young men in precarious jobs, were structurally vulnerable to recruitment. Daesh-K’s reach into South Asia therefore extends beyond borders; it is tied to the extended social geography of the region’s migrant workforce.
What distinguishes Daesh-K from other extremist outfits with South Asian roots is the sophistication of its propaganda architecture. The Sawab Center’s analysis of Voice of Khorasan, the group’s multilingual magazine, reveals a deliberate attempt to craft narratives that speak directly to audiences in India, Pakistan, and Afghanistan.
The publication routinely attacks regional governments—including those of Pakistan, China, India, Iran, and Russia—while celebrating fighters from these countries.
One edition features an article titled “Kashmir, the Paradise Under the Control of Infidels”, demonstrating how the group uses South Asian political disputes as emotional and ideological entry points.
Beyond the substance of the messaging, the use of languages such as Urdu, Hindi, and Malayalam shows how seriously the organisation takes its outreach into South Asia. By speaking in vernaculars familiar to its target audiences, Daesh-K embeds itself within local grievances while simultaneously promoting a vision of a borderless, transnational caliphate. The fact that the group can toggle seamlessly between ultra-local issues—such as Kashmir—and global themes of Western antagonism is a hallmark of its adaptability.
A striking aspect highlighted by the report is that almost all Daesh-K operatives involved in attacks outside South Asia have been Central Asian nationals. At first glance this may seem to diminish the direct operational threat to South Asian states. But the study points out that Daesh-K’s leadership, logistical networks, and propaganda foundations remain rooted in the Afghanistan-Pakistan region, even as the group projects violence outward. In other words, South Asia remains the strategic rear base even when Europe becomes the stage.
Daesh-K’s animus toward regional actors—including the Taliban—also has significant implications for South Asia. In its propaganda, the group frames the Taliban as “apostates”, accusing them of abandoning religious purity and collaborating with foreign powers. This framing positions Daesh-K as the uncompromising alternative to the Taliban’s governance.
Given Afghanistan’s centrality to South Asia’s security calculus, the Taliban–Daesh-K rivalry becomes a key axis around which future instability may revolve. Again, this is not extrapolation—the Sawab Center simply documents the group’s messaging war and its attempts to delegitimise the Taliban among regional audiences.
Another recurring theme from the report is how Daesh-K constructs a sense of belonging among recruits from South Asia and elsewhere. By insisting that the bay’ah (oath of allegiance) is not an administrative tie but a religious bond “cemented by sacrifice”, the group lowers barriers to entry for young sympathisers. This strategy is essential for understanding how the organisation maintains its manpower despite territorial losses and leadership decapitations.
Women’s recruitment is another intriguing dimension. The paper notes that recent editions of Voice of Khorasan portray women in more empowered roles than was typical of earlier Daesh propaganda. While still filtered through patriarchal norms, these texts urge women to acquire knowledge and even military training.
The feminized design of these articles—soft colours, floral motifs—contrasts sharply with the hard-edged messaging elsewhere. But the ideological recalibration is clear: Daesh-K is trying to remain relevant to a new generation, including potential recruits in South Asia, where women are increasingly visible in public and religious debates.
The Sawab Center study shows that South Asia is not merely the birthplace of Daesh-K; it remains the ideological, logistical, and narrative engine of the organisation. Even as the group’s external operations increasingly target Europe, its worldview, recruitment appeals, and political grievances remain anchored in the region’s unresolved conflicts and socio-economic vulnerabilities.
Understanding Daesh-K’s future trajectory therefore requires sustained attention to the South Asian contexts that shaped it: the fragile security environment in Afghanistan, the politicisation of religion across the region, the migration patterns that expose young men to radical networks, and the propaganda strategies tailored to linguistic and cultural identities in India, Pakistan, and Afghanistan.
In a career spanning three decades and counting, Ramananda (Ram to his friends) has been the foreign editor of The Telegraph, Outlook Magazine and the New Indian Express. He helped set up rediff.com’s editorial operations in San Jose and New York, helmed sify.com, and was the founder editor of India.com.
His work has featured in national and international publications like the Al Jazeera Centre for Studies, Global Times and Ashahi Shimbun. But his one constant over all these years, he says, has been the attempt to understand rising India’s place in the world.
He can rustle up a mean salad, his oil-less pepper chicken is to die for, and all it takes is some beer and rhythm and blues to rock his soul.
Talk to him about foreign and strategic affairs, media, South Asia, China, and of course India.
