Abdullah Awaits an Uncertain Political Future

Afghanistan is one big dusty country. Ravaged by years of war and destruction, most roads unavoidably yield big clouds of dust when cars pass, even in Kabul. Yet small oases of cleanliness and tranquility allow escape from the dust. The foreign ministry compound in northern Kabul is one. It has a well-kept garden and orchards of blooming flowers. There are bouquets of flowers in many rooms, which a visitor can smell the moment she enters. In the waiting room, polite young men apologize about once every ten minutes if there are any delays. This is the operations base for Dr. Abdullah Abdullah, the exemplar of a new crop of Afghan politicians. Events of the next several weeks will determine whether it is also the birthplace of a new Afghan political class.

Abdullah, the foreign minister, has recruited a dozen or so articulate young Afghans from around the world to this oasis. They are typical of the new technocrats that the government hopes to enlist in reconstructing the country. Most were children when they left Afghanistan and have garnered much-needed technical skill and experience. Like Abdullah, most of these men are ethnic Tajiks with hazel eyes and light skin. And most hail from Panjshir, in Afghanistan's northwest.

Abdullah may be the most sophisticated of all. He is fluent in several languages and projects an impeccable comportment. He has covered his office with a baby blue carpet. His furniture is in the baroque style and crystal vases are placed strategically around the room. He clearly wants to show a distinction between his domain and that of other Afghans.

So far, he seems quite popular. Most people I meet in Kabul wear rags and don't have enough food for meals, but they almost universally take pride their government. Interim government chief Hamid Karzai, an ethnic Pashtun from the south, is the most beloved figure. But Abdullah and two of his Northern Alliance colleagues, Interior Minister Yunus Qunooni and Defense Minister Mohammed Fahim, also have many admirers in the capital. Yet the impending Loya Jirga – which will convene Afghans from around the world in a grand legislative council – is causing anxiety in Abdullah's office.

Karzai's cabinet cobbled together elements of the Northern Alliance, Hizb-i-Vahdat, supporters of former head of state Burhanuddin Rabbani, and other forces that in one way or another opposed the Taliban. But now, as the countdown to the Loya Jirga has started, behind-the-scenes maneuvering has complicated Abdullah's image.

What was once a sign of statesmanship and professionalism is now derided as showmanship. "Sure, Abdullah has the beautiful ties and shirts but is he really a good enough diplomat?" asks one minister who chose to remain anonymous. "We are not wearing ties, we may even look provincial and traditional but you have to come and sit with us and you have to listen to our opinion and positions. Then you could judge for yourself who is reformist, who is open minded."

The border between Abdullah's circle and other Afghans has become a political liability. Panjshiri cabinet members object to foreign journalists' reports dubbing them "the Panjshiri cabal." Abdullah, his colleagues and their supporters believe this characterization aims to undermine the Loya Jirga.

Their argument runs: a cabal rules through fear, and many diplomats and UN specialists indicate that the Panjshiri group has by and large done a decent job in the last few months and does not face many better-qualified individuals in Kabul at the moment. However, ethnic divisions make loyalties as important as competence for political legitimacy.

Kabul is now home to many internally displaced refugees, most of whom come from Panjshir and other northern regions. The situation is different in regions like Jalalabad or Kandahar. Pashtuns comprise the biggest ethnic group in these areas, and have gained political momentum since former king Mohammed Zahir Shah returned from exile on April 17.

General Abdul Rashid Dostum, the powerful Uzbek warlord controlling Mazar-e Sharif, now publicly shows enthusiasm for the king. Dostum is no long-time monarchist, but he is an adroit politician. He has stood beside Mohammed Najibullah, whom the Taliban slew in 1996, and beside more radical Islamists. Now, he is playing power politics by aligning himself with the king. Similarly, Gul Agha Shirzai, who governs Kandahar, was the first person who kissed the King's hand on Afghan soil and praised the king when hosting Fahim in late March. The king says he wants no role in a new government, but his return might influence the Loya Jirga.

Abdullah has reasons to be proud of his record, despite a near-empty treasury and legions of inherited problems. After US President George W. Bush branded Iran part of an "axis of evil," the Karzai cabinet managed to keep the goodwill of the United States without antagonizing Iran or letting tension along the western border get out of control. Yet the question of Abdullah's political future remains open.

For a long time before the king's return, rumor mills were abuzz with stories about Panjshiri machinations to delay his flight. A few hours after the king landed, Abdullah jokingly told reporters that he had been wearing a black jacket in the plane but decided to change lest people start saying he was in mourning because the king was back.

At the moment, Zahir Shah's palace #8 in Kabul's Vazir Akbar Khan neighborhood is the busiest spot in town. The King keeps saying he seeks no special positions. His youngest son Mirwais, 44, also disavows politics and says he merely wants to use his business experience in helping the economy. He remains in Rome, fundraising and encouraging other countries to invest in Afghanistan. But many of his cousins and relatives have encouraged the King to seek a state position. And many warlords – who expect dividends for helping the US-led coalition defeat the Taliban – are flirting with the idea of arming a Pashtun-dominated government.

Abdullah and the cosmopolitan professionals who work for him refuse to publicly campaign for their own. On the day of the king's return, after the ceremonies and press conferences and visits, a tired Abdullah sat in his office sipping green tea. There were many portraits of Ahmed Shah Massoud, who led the northern anti-Taliban forces until his September 9 assassination, in different poses.

As he noticed me looking at the pictures of Massoud, Abdullah said, "I am a different person from the day we lost him." "We were very close to each other," he said. I asked him if he was worried he may not be holding office much longer. He looked up at Massoud's picture on his desk and said softly: "That would be my last worry in life."