[centre][b]End of an Epoch[/b][/centre]

[centre][img]http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/63/Portrait_of_Abdur_Rahman_Khan_of_Afghanistan.jpg[/img][/centre]
[centre][i]Amir Abdur Rahman Khan, the ‘Iron Amir’ of Afghanistan[/i][/centre]

The Iron Amir was dead. He died, unlike many Afghan monarchs, in his bed. A man who had single-handedly forged the modern Afghan state, he had created many enemies through his repressive and high-handed measures. But they were measures which had tamed the wild Afghan horse, the horse which the Iron Amir, alone, had been able to ride.

News of Amir Abdur Rahman’s death spread like wildfire across the nation, and his enemies travelled from far and wide to give him a final send-off: they would rip him limb from limb, extracting on his dead body the revenge they could not while he still lived. Given the Islamic tradition that a body must be buried before sun-down on the day of the death, it was surprising just how many people managed to get to Kabul. Shaggy-haired men, wielding axes and swords and other forms of weapons descended from the mountains, their eyes those of predators, looking for the one who had wielded so much power over them for so long.

As the officials watched the streets fill with the vengeful few who had continued to live on the edge of society, it was clear to them that parading the Amir’s body across Kabul and to the great tomb prepared for him was not going to be an option. It was agreed that he would be buried in the palace as quickly as possible. That is until they glanced out of the window one last time.

Outside, armed men in uniform lined the streets, keeping the rabble back and dealing with those who refused to give up their weapons. The Afghan National Police, which had been reformed by the Iron Amir in his final year was doing its duty. Even in death, the iron fist of the Iron Amir did not wane, and as his body was marched to be buried in the tomb prepared outside Kabul, the hateful glances from those who thought that the day of vengeance had come would probably have humoured the Amir.

[centre][img]http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/36/Afghan_policemen_in_Kabul_1879-80.jpg[/img][/centre]
[centre][i]The Afghan National Police[/i][/centre]

Habibullah, who marched with his father’s body, looked into those eyes. He was a young man, full of hope and aspirations for his nation, but as he looked he understood why his father had to become a man of iron. To rule these people, one had only a single weapon, and it was fear. The Afghan horse would only accept one rider, and that was the one who put the fear of God into it. If Abdur Rahman Khan had been an Iron Amir, then, Habibullah pledged, he would be a man of steel.

[centre][img]http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J60jz8ShfXs/U70fT7fwBGI/AAAAAAAAB3w/Fy1BaDY7kO0/s1600/10268515_336531776497157_6965540390803267414_n.jpg[/img][/centre]
[centre][i]The Young Amir Habibullah Khan[/i][/centre]

Despite the expectations all over the nation of a descent into war and chaos, what Abdur Rahman Khan built in his 20 year reign did not simply fall apart. He had built a nation, with a bureaucracy and an eroding tribal system, and the transfer of power from Abdur Rahman Khan to Habibullah Khan was a very peaceful one. By the time Abdur Rahman Khan was buried, the streets of Kabul were once more empty of the mountain-dwelling bandits and petty chieftains who had suffered as a result of the creation of the Afghan state. 

Habibullah Khan was now Amir. The only question was, would he tame and ride the Afghan horse as his father had before him? 

[centre][img]https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/23/Habib_Ullah_1907.jpg[/img][/centre]