Osama bin Laden's death in Pakistan, orchestrated by the Americans, has catapulted the South Asian nation once again to the centre-stage of international debate. There is increased speculation on how this little country of immense strategic importance, which seemed to be taken by surprise by the US action, will play out its relationship with the super power. Back home, in New Delhi, it has spurred the flexing of muscles on the ‘Wanted List' of 26/11 terrorists, with Pakistan in retaliation typically blowing hot, blowing cold.

With its back against the wall, it has sounded out stern warnings to India against any action similar to that carried out by the US. In the latest development, China has come to Pakistan's rescue, acknowledging its role in anti-terrorist activities. And amidst these gestures and counter-gestures comes a book Pakistan: A Hard Country that gives a rare insight into a neighbour you always thought you knew, but are surprised how little you actually know about it.

Journey across a troubled nation

Penned by Anatol Lieven, a reporter for The Times in Pakistan in the late 1980s, the book takes you on a veritable journey across the troubled nation. The author, a Professor of International Relations and Terrorism Studies in the War Studies Department of King's College, London, runs you through the history of the Islamic nation, its strategic geographical placement, its political tribulations, and why it is what it is today. Lieven speaks from two perspectives. One is that of working as a journalist in the country that gave him access to a whole lot of important as well as ordinary people, from generals to rickshaw pullers.

The other is of a researcher in recent years that added to his travels in the country, and through which he earned deep insights into some of the regional idiosyncrasies in Punjab, Sindh, and Balochistan. “Pakistan is divided, disorganised, economically backward, corrupt, violent, unjust, often savagely oppressive towards the poor and women, and home to extremely dangerous forms of extremism and terrorism and ‘yet it moves',” writes Lieven, quickly conceding its toughness and resilience as a state and society. And when Lieven describes the Islamic nation's pockets of “successful modernity”, “excellent administration”, “few modern industries,” and “fine motorways”, there is a familiarity that lingers for the Indian reader. Is the description not a mirror image of yesteryears India?

India as role model

The image continues to stick and grow as the author describes the values imbibed by Pakistan's army and the state of its cantonment townships. Yes, familiar, very familiar — with India obviously the role model in many ways and understandably so. Familiar too is Lieven's treatise on the elite families of the country, including their inherent feudal culture and attitudes.

Just like in India, in Pakistan too, it is these elite families that throw up the politicians — be it a Zulfikar Ali Bhutto or Asif Ali Zardari. Lieven has a really interesting take on politicians in Pakistan. He writes, “ ...while Pakistani politicians in general get a pretty bad press, and deservedly so, it is sometimes possible to feel sorry for them. They are often not saints, but they often need the patience of saints, as well as the courage of wolves, the memory of elephants and the digestion of crocodiles…”

Relating a story of his journey with a Pakistani politician, he describes what we are used to in India — petals being thrown over the politicians' land cruiser, chanting his slogans, bowing to kiss his hand, motor-bikes and scooters waving the party flag and children running out for the free tamasha (show).

The most absorbing characteristic of the book is Lieven's travels through the provinces. Karachi and Lahore are all too familiar to Indians who keep an eye on the going-ons in the neighbourhood, but the book provides a rare peak into the society, the undercurrents, and the psyche of the provinces of Punjab, Sindh and Balochistan.

Lieven has also been able to delve into the minds of some of these communities and used an anthropological analysis to explain why it is the Pathans who largely man the armed forces, the deep resentment of the Baloch tribals towards the mainstream administration, the psyche of Pakistan's Taliban and how it differs from Afghanistan's Taliban.

As a reader brought up on stories and scenes of Balochistan in the late 1920s, when my grandfather served as a doctor in the Railways close to one of the world's longest and famous tunnels (the Khojak tunnel, which was surrounded by springs and streams and an equal number of myths), my appetite for Pakistan's provinces may have exceeded that of an average reader.

But Lieven's account left a sense of regret at the mismanagement and neglect of a province rich in natural resources and relatively modernised during the British era, which had the potential to prosper and do the Islamic nation proud.

Weak state, strong society

Another positive going for the book is the author's ability not to fall into the trap of a ‘Western' writer, though he is one. May be it is his long years and obvious familiarity with the country that has held him in good stead.

And, while he argues against any kind of US action that may bring them gain in Afghanistan, but destroy the essential fabric of Pakistan in the process, he describes the relationship as one “of mutual exploitation heavily flavoured with mutual suspicion.” When he argues for Pakistan, he is at his anthropological best — “A fundamental political fact about Pakistan is that the state, whoever claims to lead it, is weak, and society in its various forms is immensely strong.” Can a description be more apt?

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