In recent weeks, some conservative politicians have joined the influential Ulema Council, composed of Islamic scholars, in threatening to seek to strip broadcasting licenses from private television operators unless they curb "immoral" programming.
"There has been a huge change since the Taliban regime went, and many people don't like what they see on TV," says Sherin Aqa Manawi, deputy head of the Ulema Council. "They think their kids are wasting time or being influenced by bad behavior."
But Manawi argues that religious leaders are being used by politicians who are unhappy about being mocked on satirical television shows or scrutinized by current affairs investigations.
"Religious leaders do not want to close them down; it's just a request to change some of the programs," he said. "We need to find something between what it was like under the Taliban and what we have now."
If culture is a front line in the battle to define the kind of Afghanistan that emerges in the next few years, then "Afghan Star" is one of the trenches. Produced by Tolo TV, the most dynamic of the new broadcasters that arose to meet the pent-up demand for entertainment, the show has developed a loyal audience in the three years since it first aired.
This year's edition attracted 2,000 contestants. Most sing Afghan songs, says Jawad Karimi, a musician who helps record the backing tracks from a tiny studio in Kabul, the capital. Karimi is a singer himself, with a CD called "Asheqaan" released last year.
"I write songs mostly about love," said Karimi, 36, who returned with his wife in 2006 after spending 14 years in Tajikistan, where his two sons remain for safety. "I sing some songs about my country and love for my countrymen, but not about politics."
He doesn't even want to be asked questions about the resurgent Taliban. Being a musician in Afghanistan "is dangerous," he said.
There is tight security at the "Afghan Star" taping -- a Tolo VJ was forced to flee the country in 2006 after being repeatedly threatened -- but it doesn't deter spectators such as 20-year-old Ahmad Jawad, who is sitting up front. He sees himself as a singer too. Has plans to try out for "Afghan Star" next year.
As a young teenager during Taliban times, he found a small room where he could sing without getting caught, recording his voice on a cassette player with a small microphone.
"I never imagined I would attend something as beautiful as this show," he said.
