Pakistan: bombs, spies and wild parties
Even before you reach Pakistan there's reason to fret. "Ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing shortly, inshallah," says the Pakistan International Airlines pilot, 10 minutes outside Islamabad. To the western ear this ancient invocation – literally "God willing" – can be disconcerting: you pray the crew are relying on more than divine providence to set down safety. But these days it's about right – Pakistan, a country buffeted by mysterious if not entirely holy forces, seems to have surrendered to its fate.
Viewed from the outside, Pakistan looms as the Fukushima of fundamentalism: a volatile, treacherous place filled with frothing Islamists and double-dealing generals, leaking plutonium-grade terrorist trouble. Forget the "world's most dangerous country" moniker, by now old hat. Look to recent coverage: "Hornet's Nest" declares this week's Economist;"The Ally from Hell" proclaims the Atlantic.
Western condemnation has a moral quality, the tinge of wounded betrayal. Much of it is rooted in Afghanistan, where many blame Pakistan for the Taliban resurgence. Some years ago a senior UN official in Kabul warned me the US could launch unilateral airstrikes if Pakistan didn't get into line. Surely it would be unwise to destabilise a nuclear-armed country of 170m people, I said. "Well," he shot back grimly. "Maybe they deserve it."
Yet for all the stone-throwing, hard facts are elusive. Did the powerfulInter-Services Intelligence (ISI) spy agency really shelter Bin Laden? Does it control the notorious Haqqani network? Did it play a role in the 2008 Mumbai attacks? If smoking guns abound, the Pakistanis are remarkably good at wiping their fingerprints from the trigger. Instead, we are left with a murky stew of allegations, coincidences and the steamy whispers of western spies...
