KABUL, Afghanistan -- After years of obscurity and a few months in jail, Ameruddin Askarzai is about to be recognized for helping save Afghanistan's gold. His role, in fact, was key.

Mr. Askarzai, the 59-year-old head of cash issuance at the central bank, controls the key to a presidential vault and the treasure that for years was secretly stashed inside. He works in a dimly lighted office, behind a cluttered desk, with a drawer full of skeleton keys. Until now, the man with a pencil mustache and swept-back hair has refused to be photographed or identified by name in accounts of how he thwarted the Taliban's attempt to loot a hoard of ancient gold.

Afghan Banker Finally Gets His Due

Later this month, the low-profile central banker will step out from the shadows. Mr. Askarzai is to receive a medal from Afghanistan's president, Hamid Karzai, according to a spokesman for the president. In a time of widespread government corruption, some Afghan officials are pointing to Mr. Askarzai as a shining example of putting the nation's interests before one's own.

"He's a forgotten hero," says central bank chief Abdul Qadeer Fitrat, who nominated him.

The treasure was discovered in late 1978 during an excavation led by the Soviet archaeologist Viktor Sarianidi. The team had been searching for Bronze Age artifacts just outside the northern city of Sheberghan, according to Nader Rasoli, director of Afghanistan's Institute of Archaeology, who was also on the dig. They stumbled instead upon burial mounds -- seven of them -- stuffed with priceless possessions of rulers who hoped to carry their wealth into the afterlife.

"Suddenly," remembers Mr. Rasoli, "we saw all this gold."

The team unearthed gold crowns, belts and gem-encrusted pendants. The artifacts were traced to Bactria, a civilization ruled by nomadic kings and queens. A few hundred years before the birth of Christ, these chieftains yielded to the armies of Alexander the Great, and as a result, Greek influence seeped into Afghanistan's art. The commerce of merchants who plied the Silk Road, connecting Europe and Asia, added to the cultural mosaic found beneath Sheberghan's soil.

The team rushed to deliver the artifacts, which became known as the Bactrian Gold, to the National Museum in Kabul. Harsh weather and political instability prevented excavation of the seventh mound. What remained was looted.

As Afghanistan slid into war with the Soviet Union, officials at the Kabul National Museum worried about what they were guarding. In 1985, the museum leadership decided to shift the treasure to a more secure museum at the presidential palace, according to Omara Khan Masoudi, who is now head of the National Museum. A few years later, they moved it again to a vault in the palace, which was controlled by the central bank's Mr. Askarzai.

Taliban rule in the 1990s decimated Afghanistan's cultural heritage. Despite efforts to persuade commanders to protect the national museum, Mr. Masoudi estimates 70% of its artifacts were stolen. He suspects the lost items -- including coins and early Islamic art -- made their way to Pakistan and onto the international black market.

The Bactrian Gold remained safe, however, protected by a small number of people who knew its secret location. "We gave out no information," says Mr. Masoudi.

Ameruddin Askarzai

As civil war raged in Kabul, and rockets fell outside his office, Mr. Askarzai controlled access to the presidential vault, meticulously recording each visit in a leather-bound ledger.

In late 2001, after the terrorist attacks in the U.S., a delegation of Taliban ministers arrived. They demanded to inspect the vault.

Guns pressed against Mr. Askarzai's temples as he dialed the combination, slid in the key and finally swung open the thick steel door. Before them lay stacks of silver and gold bricks -- five to six decades old -- that were part of the country's foreign reserves. Further inside, behind another locked door, rested more than 21,000 pieces of the Bactrian treasure. Its worth was incalculable.

"What's behind the other door?" a Taliban minister asked.

"Ceramic handicrafts," said Mr. Askarzai, lying.

Nothing was removed during the quick inspection, according to Mr. Askarzai. Shutting the door, the otherwise cautious central bank official acted on impulse. He turned the key against the lock until a tooth broke off inside. The vault was sealed.

"I didn't want them to take the gold outside the country and sell it," Mr. Askarzai says. "It belongs to the people of Afghanistan."

The Taliban leaders soon returned, fleeing ahead of the American invasion. This time, Mr. Askarzai said he couldn't open the door. Guards fired into the air in fury, but the delegation left in haste. At a different vault beneath the central bank, the Taliban succeeded in carting away $4.5 million in cash, according to a central bank spokesman.

Mr. Askarzai was sent to jail, where he says he was beaten with a piece of metal attached to a rubber hose. After the Taliban regime collapsed, Afghanistan's new leader, Mr. Karzai, sought someone who could issue money. They found Mr. Askarzai in jail. He had been there for three months and 19 days.

Once free, Mr. Askarzai found a locksmith to remove the tooth of broken key, so Afghanistan's new government could size up the country's foreign reserves. Questions persisted about the fate of the Bactrian gold, though, despite official assurances that it was safe.

In April 2004, Mr. Askarzai opened the vault to a delegation of Afghan officials and foreign art scholars. A blowtorch unsealed a small room inside the vault, according to Mr. Masoudi, who was among those who witnessed battered boxes being brought out filled with the gold artifacts.

The rediscovery of the Bactrian treasure focused international attention on those who worked to save it. While Mr. Askarzai shied from the spotlight, fearing the Taliban's revenge if he was identified, others welcomed the interest in Afghanistan's cultural riches. Mr. Masoudi says he has represented his country at the treasure's opening exhibits in the U.S. and Europe. A collection is now on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.

In 2004, Mr. Masoudi won the Netherlands' Prince Claus Award. The jury praised him for leading efforts to secretly remove some items and disguise others in order to prevent greater damage to the museum. The prize came with &euro;25,000 ($35,980), which Mr. Masoudi says he used to remodel his house.

Such plaudits haven't sat well with Mr. Askarzai, whose own heroism hasn't been as richly rewarded. "Mr. Masoudi...Mr. Masoudi." The central banker chews on the name as if were mutton gristle. "He became the hero who kept the treasure, but it was all with me."

In his spacious museum office, ringed by sofas, Mr. Masoudi denies any "serious jealousy" among fellow government officials. Yet in a nod to hard feelings that may still linger, he showers praise on the man who locked out the Taliban.

"The government should appreciate his work," says Mr. Masoudi of Mr. Askarzai. "He was the key person."

Write to Peter Wonacott at peter.wonacott@wsj.com