Amid the chaos and fragility of the national-unity government, one thing that gives Afghans hope is that both leaders speak directly about the nation’s challenges. Both exhibit a greater interest in the economy than Karzai ever did. And while they appear to be moving forward with peace talks with the Taliban, both also seem more committed than Karzai to the military struggle against the insurgency. And much to the dismay of some of their supporters who expected positions in the new government, Ghani and Abullah have also shown willingness to appoint officials based, at least in part, on merit. So far, the two appear unfazed by the political costs of confronting patronage and corruption.

“Look, I am 65. No ambition. I dislike wealth, I dislike conspicuous consumption. My life is incredibly simple,” Ghani said. “I am dedicated to this country … to bring structural change. To focus on the basics, on the fundamentals that would change the rules of the game and the playing field.”

By January, Ghani’s approval ratings had dropped by 27 percent. As one official said, “Running so fast also brings with it falling flat on your face.” But Ghani’s harshest reality check came with the cabinet: He missed his deadline to fill the posts by two months. His supporters were angry that they weren’t consulted more about who to appoint. All of a sudden, Ghani’s biggest challenge was no longer Abdullah, but managing the expectations of his own allies. In fact, Ghani’s increasingly close working relationship with Abdullah fueled the insecurities of many on his immediate team. Parliament members who had appeared at Ghani’s side during campaign rallies emerged as some of the harshest critics of his choices for the cabinet. The Parliament put its foot down against allowing dual citizens as cabinet members (which applied to seven of the nominees). Only nine out of 19 cabinet nominees were able to get votes of confidence. His abandoned allies sent a strong message, but Ghani seemed unfazed.

He says he realizes there is a political cost to curbing patronage, but the cost is manageable. “Political capital is like a cup of tea,” he said, gazing at the cup on his desk in front of him. “If you have one cup, you use it or lose it. But if you have a pot, and a system to renew the pot, then renew the cup; you use it, you renew it. The art of the possible is to use your political capital judiciously, which means you have to be able to take risks.”

Abdullah’s cabinet choices caused a similar uproar. His allies from the Northern Alliance felt they were not represented. Many refused to speak to him; some on social media called him a traitor. It was as if “the whole world starts with the cabinet and ends with the cabinet,” Abdullah said. He said he knew the anger “would be temporary,” but managing it, even for someone with his aptitude for diplomacy, has proved difficult. Consoling elders from Herat province who’d wanted one of their own in the cabinet consumed a four-hour meeting that lasted until 2 a.m.

Whether the power-sharing agreement will last depends in part on how the two men harness the negative forces around them. Some members of Ghani’s team think of Abdullah as solely focused on “golden spoons and red carpets,” a reference to his attention to appearances. They refuse to acknowledge that he is, essentially, half of the government. Members of Abdullah’s team, on the other hand, still question Ghani’s legitimacy and point out that he is not an elected president, but the product of a political agreement.

Meanwhile, the power-sharing agreement itself has set a poor precedent. While a consensus has emerged that extensive fraud occurred in the elections, the agreement means there will never be a clear probe of the graft’s extent. That threatens to further drain Afghans’ faith in elections. Electoral reform, which Ghani and Abdullah committed to when they signed onto the agreement, is necessary to ensure an end to the cycle of messy elections. But since the details of reform will be hammered out by two sides with a bitter recent past, it has the potential to open old wounds — and drag the country back to deadlock.

Nevertheless, the two leaders are moving forward, albeit slowly, and both seem to inspire each other with their routines. Ghani works 16-hour days, much of that time spent reading documents. He has said that he read all 499 pages of the CIA torture report as soon as it came out. Abdullah regularly holds meetings that go past midnight. “If the two of us agree on something, [it] works in this country. If we don’t, it doesn’t work,” Abdullah said.

One afternoon in December, a group of shopkeepers from Kandahar visited Abdullah. The mayor had closed the gates to their fruit market, they said, where they had operated shops for 20 years, forcing them to relocate to a new private market. “Our goods are rotting, we are in debt to Pakistan now,” one shopkeeper recounted, wiping away tears with his shawl. Abdullah consoled them and said the problem would be solved right away if he could reach the president on the phone.

One of the aides dialed Ghani. The president was in a meeting, but he called back in less than two minutes.

“There are 160 shops there, each one a fruit trader,” Abdullah reported on the phone as the shopkeepers listened. The local government had evacuated all of the traders, he said, and 13 days ago shut the door to the market.

On the other end of the line, Ghani said he would fire the mayor.

“No, you don’t have to fire the mayor,” Abdullah said quickly. “Just instruct the governor to solve their problem. It’s a serious injustice. … If you could instruct them, please, they will pray for both of us.”