On Saturday, amid the cold and rain, an estimated 7 million Afghans headed to the polls to choose from a roster of presidential candidates whose average age is 63. This in a country where 68 percent of the population is under the age of 25—where seven in 10 people were 12 or younger when the U.S. invaded Afghanistan.
Arguably the most important storyline in this weekend's election—which marks the first democratic transfer of power in Afghanistan's modern history—is the participation of Afghan youth, who will play an outsize role in shaping the country's future as U.S. troops withdraw. Ahead of this year's poll, Afghan election officials predicted that the majority of voters would be young people (the voting age is 18), which explains why presidential frontrunners like Ashraf Ghani and Zalmay Rassoul pledged to carve out more than half the positions in their government for the younger generation—and why the race has produced initiatives like a contest to develop a hip-hop anthem for the election.
But in Afghanistan, campaign promises and rap songs aren't enough to court the youth vote—the challenges in engaging young people go well beyond apathy about the political process. The men jockeying to replace longtime President Hamid Karzai are an unappealing, all-too-familiar mix of warlords and government insiders. And in recent weeks, the Taliban repeatedly vowed to violently disrupt the election, in part by reprising a 2009 tactic of attacking people with blue ink on their finger—a measure to prevent voter fraud that also makes it easier for the militant group to target voters.
What's remarkable is that many young people have treated these obstacles as an opportunity to get more involved in the election, not less. On Monday, representatives of the Kabul-based Young Activist Network for Reform and Change (YARC), an umbrella organization of social and civil-society groups that includes some 300,000 members, inked their fingers a week ahead of the vote to encourage Afghans to participate in the election despite the Taliban's threats.
"Even if the Taliban and al-Qaeda cut off my hand or finger, as a youth, I will still take part in the elections," YARC member Sangar Amirzaizada told Afghanistan's Tolo News. (This year, The New York Times reports, voters are getting invisible ultraviolet ink on one finger and blue silver-nitrate ink on another, meaning people "in troubled areas could be identified by insurgents for some three days.")
The younger generation's emergence as a powerful political force has gone beyond symbolic actions. The National Democratic Institute notes that they are the reason campaigning via social media and mobile technology have, for the first time in Afghan electoral history, become critical components of the race (in 2013 there were 2.4 million Internet users in the country, up from 2,000 during the 2004 election). In March, Afghanistan's election commission reported that young people constituted a staggering 70 percent of provincial council candidates across the country (YARC itself has put forward more than 35 candidates for provincial councils).
And these young people appear to be more concerned with building the country's future than litigating its past, which has been dominated by warlords, ethnic conflicts, and civil wars. "Our elders are divided, but the youth are more united," the youth activist Israr Karimzai told Stars and Stripes. "There are certain candidates that are playing the ethnic card in this election, but Afghans have been through the process of national solidarity and they are aware of national interest."
Ehsanullah Hikmat, the head of YARC's international-relations committee, expressed similar views when we spoke on Friday, just hours before the election. He explained that the organization, which has not endorsed a presidential candidate, cares most about the contenders' policies for young people, women, and Afghans as a whole—not factors like the candidates' ages or what side they were on in the country's civil wars.