afghanistanof land, a census of livestock, and standardized weights and measures.
Export duties were increased and the import duty on luxury goods was
raised to 100 per cent. In 1923 Afghanistan’s first national budget was intro-
duced, and double ledger accounting replaced the archaic bookkeeping
system. There was a new national currency, the afghani, and for the first
time banknotes were issued, although they proved unpopular for people
felt cheated since the paper had no actual value. Cost-cutting measures
included reductions or cancellation of allowances paid to Muhammadzais,
religious foundations and tribal leaders as well as reductions in army pay.
Another unpopular move was the introduction of a National Identity
Card, the tazkira, without which no one could obtain a government job
or register a marriage. Yet despite all these fiscal measures, Afghanistan’s
annual revenue was a mere £2 million.
Instead of using the additional revenue to improve the living stan-
dards of ordinary Afghans, ’Aman Allah Khan wasted vast sums on white
elephant projects that benefited only his immediate family. The two most
costly schemes were the hill station in Paghman and a new capital city on
the outskirts of southwest Kabul. One contemporary observer described
Paghman as a ‘Fairyland’, 31 and rightly so, for it was the place where the
Amir’s vision of Europe-in-Asia could be created away from hoi polloi,
a haven where the royal family, ministers and hanger-ons could act like
Europeans and pretend to be modern. Traditional taboos such as the
burqa were ignored, while men mingled freely with women and played
each other at mixed doubles tennis. Architecturally, too, Paghman delib-
erately rejected indigenous forms in favour of a pastiche of European
styles. The formal gardens were dotted with Rococo fountains and Graeco-
Roman statuary; the royal palace was in English colonial style; the Bahar
Hotel was stolidly Germanic; and the Taq-i Zafar, or Victory Arch, which
commemorated Afghan independence, was a miniature version of the
Arc de Triomphe. There was even an Opera House. Robert Byron, who
visited Kabul in 1934, was particularly scathing about Paghman’s ‘shoddy’
and ‘obscene’ buildings:
In each glade stands a house or office or theatre of such appalling
aspect, so vilely reminiscent of a German Kurhaus and the back
parts of Pimlico, that it is impossible to imagine where Amanullah
could have found the architects to design them, even as a joke. 32Paghman’s redeeming feature was its natural setting. Set high up in
the headwaters of the Kabul river, the mountain air, shady trees, clear