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The mix was too reform-minded for Mohammed Yusuf. The new legislature whipped up unproved charges of corruption against his regime, and Kabul's high school and university students followed up with a sit-in in the Wolesi Jirga, demanding Yusuf's ouster. Street demonstrations followed, and the police fired into the crowd, killing at least three. The King secured Yusuf's resignation and in his place appointed Mohammed Hashim Maiwandwal, 46, a lanky, Lincolnesque liberal who was born in a three-room mud hut and rose to prominence as Afghanistan's ambassador to Washington, London and Karachi. Maiwandwal quickly dashed off to the university and calmed the irate students. They carried him away in a heap of flowers.
Last week Maiwandwal cashed in on that good feeling by reappointing three competent ministers of the Yusuf government—a move much needed in a country with little in the way of human resources.
Neither Maiwandwal nor his King believes that democracy will come easily to Afghanistan. In a nation where violence is still the code (two of Zahir
Shah's three predecessors were murdered), the process will be long and hard. "There are risks involved in instituting democracy at this time," Maiwandwal explained last week. "But they are calculated risks. The people will have to come to understand more about the processes of law."
That is just what the U.S. would like to see. Afghanistan has always been a buffer between Russia and the Indian subcontinent. As such, it must remain neutral. American aid ($300 million v. Russia's $700 million) is dedicated to promoting that neutrality—and to building democracy as well.