Being Brig: in Afghan army I realised his brutel activities. There and then I resolved to lay out all the secrecies and make it public but I could not succeed to overt his false design during my 10 years tenure of service.
On his resigning from the poist of Prime Minister he established indirectly of pro-Russian parcham party§ on new lines. It was the only alternative to quit my Military services on 1970 to impede their ways independently.
I came to know in Qandahar province in 1973 that Daud succeeded in a Coupe-De-Ta backed by Moscow. Soonafter that I consulted all my Military and companion and various other religious, and Political Co-workers in Ghazni province. It was unanimously decided in that meeting to refer to U.S.A., Embassy in Kabul for the expected friendly co-operation for the solution of our national grievances.
Unfartunately Amirican Embassy was under the Eyes of K.G.B.s and local spies due to which we could not succed to have proper contacts.
Eventually I got an opportunity to contact U.S.-Embassidor through a prominent personality of the Embassy Feroz Mohsin who worked as an interpreter. He was an Afghan National and latter on proved a Rusian detictive. I handed over a list of my fellow Army personnel, Religious Schalor and politicians along-with other details of national interest to the Ambassador, besides a revolutionary and reactionary plan against then then Daud’s regime. He thought over the subject and latter on a states envoy Mr. Edvard Fox Martin came to Kabul and I visited him in Feroz Mohsin lodge. He supported our plan on belhaf of the states Government, which was based on humanitarian and bi-latiral relations. After conversation Mr. Edvard and myself signed on 1976 an Agreement (Known as Ox-Fox plan) bearing the following context that after two months of the agreement we will be helped with the following:
1- 300 Machineguns
2- 240 Bazoka Antitank launchers.
3- 4 Hawan (Marterguns and exessaries)
4- 40 Powerful explosive Bumbs.
5- Numerous Wirless Radio sets.
6- Establishment of Radio Broad-Casting station.
7- 22600000 Afghani money repayable and interest free.
8- 400 Rifles.
Soon after the agreement I was chased by the detictives with a consequent imprisoned of 3 years with other four brothers.
On my release from the Jail there was no hope to visit the U.S.-Embassy during the regime of late Taraki. I deputed my companion 1978 Mr. M— S— R— to see the Amirican Embassy in Pakistan and to convey my message to him. He met with the staff of the Embassy in Islamabad but with no result.
Now I have lift the nations behind to fight against the Russian intervention and came to Pakistan with 60 other comrades, who represent all the provinces of Afghanistan, in hope to revive the foresaid agreement.
I visited the 3rd Secretary of states in Islamabad and the Counsellor in Peshawar in this regard but all in vain.
Now I wish to put our problems on your table for a very kind and just favour which is based on share humanitarianism and anti-communistic expansionism ideals. I shall be very much grateful to you in person and on behalf of my nation, if you pay a very kind attention to our matters and affairs and arrange for a possible help and clue.
Thanks and thanks.
Your Sincerely,
(BRIG: — -)
U.S.A., Counselte, Peshawar
(Pakistan)
In the course of time the Brigadier grew angry at America, for Reagan and the C.I.A. ignored his letters; and the people at the consulate were less and less polite about his coming by. It was clear enough to the Young Man that if the Ox-Fox Agreement had ever been made, it would long since have been written off the books by Mr. Fox Marten’s organization; for who would want to support a man whose plot had not been airtight? — Then again, Napoleon had made a comeback; so had Lenin. The Young Man, who did not understand very much about political change in Asia, decided to maintain an attitude of genial neutrality until more facts came in.
He is still waiting.
“I was in the jail for three days without food or water, in summer,” he told the Young Man in his slow, earnest English.‖ “Then three years I was there, and I took up the fight against the Roos.” —The story went that he had been Zaher Shah’s bodyguard, and a jewel dealer on the side. Soon after the invasion, the Russians napalmed his house and confiscated his jewels—“ten kilos of emeralds, fif—fifty kilos rubies, many other—jools!” cried the Brigadier fiercely. Some of his fortune remained hidden; this he disposed of by equipping a group of freedom fighters personally loyal to him. Then he set off for Pakistan to obtain the arms due him according to the Ox-Fox Agreement. Here he was. — One of his sons was missing in action; another had been conscripted by the Roos and every night supplied the guerrillas with ammunition for their Kalashnikovs. His wife was sick somewhere in Afghanistan, and his daughter (if I understood his pantomime) had a bullet wound in the chest. At intervals he heard from his family. A messenger would come to the General’s house and deliver a square of linen, covered with Pushto cursive, which had been sewn into his garments. The Brigadier would read it over and over to himself for hours. When he had not gotten a letter for a long time, the Young Man saw him going through the other bits of cloth which had come to him, and slowly shaking his head.
“What he says, it is a tissue of fictions,” said the Young Man’s Afghan translator back in California. “I was in Kabul many years and I have never heard of this man. He was no bodyguard; he is no leader; he is nothing.” —But perhaps the translator supported a different party.
In the morning and in the afternoon the Brigadier sat working on new letters to various heads of state. He read each draft aloud to the General, who patiently suggested insertions and modifications. Between his siesta and the evening prayer the Brigadier read his Qur’an aloud to himself in the low singsong of custom. The Qur’an was kept wrapped in a bright, supple cloth whenever it was not in use. As the Brigadier picked up the bundle or replaced it on the guest-room table, he kissed it. He prayed outside in the garden with the General, touching head, hands and feet to the prayer mat.
“My dear son,” said the Brigadier one dizzily hot day, “I am very sorry that I have come to the Pakistan to get help. I want to be back at the fight.”
“I hope you can go back soon,” the Young Man said. He had a feeling that the Brigadier would still be waiting for arms on his dying day.
Over the course of that afternoon the old Brigadier became more and more agitated. He decided that democracy was the problem. — “Why the Amerikis no help in the fight?” he asked over and over. “Why they keep me sitting here?” —The Young Man made the mistake of trying to explain checks and balances. (What a theoretical Young Man!) He did not have the heart to tell the Brigadier that the Americans did not want to help him, which fact he knew from the consulate. (And it was even possible that checks and balances had something to do with that.) — He said, “Maybe part of the American government wants to help you, Brigadier. Maybe another part doesn’t want to help you. Our government argues with itself before it decides anything.” —The Brigadier was astounded and infuriated. If the Amerikis had a dictator like Zaher Shah, he said, there would be no vacillation; the Ox-Fox Agreement would be adhered to with honor. — “Democracy,” he cried urgently, “road — to—Communism!” —He picked up an embroidered cushion. “Democracy: He want it there”—he touched the cushion and pointed to the bed; “he want it there”—he pointed to the floor. “Dictatorship: one place. Very bad, democracy!”