The first is the report of gruesome violence in the north west today, following two other major attacks in Peshawar this past week:

PESHAWAR: At least 55 people were killed Friday in violence in Pakistan’s troubled northwestern tribal region of Kyhber, which borders Afghanistan, local officials said.

Twenty-two people were killed in a suicide attack targeting a mosque after Friday prayers in the Tirah valley, while at least 10 soldiers and 23 militants died in an earlier clash around 10 kilometres away (six miles).

Fifteen militants were also killed when Pakistan fighter jets blitzed various suspected militant hideouts in the Orakzai Agency.

The second is the report on Ahmedis not being allowed to enter a mosque because local residents would rather have them not do so:

RAWALPINDI: Complying with the demands of the locals, the police on Friday barred Ahmadis from entering their worship centre in Satellite Town, Rawalpindi.

Leading the locals, businessman Sharjeel Mir told The Express Tribune that three days back on a consensus, it was decided to prevent any sort of worship in the centre.

Mir said that at a meeting called by the locals which was attended by DCO Saqib Zafar, Superintendent of Police Matloob Hussain, ulemas and other officials, it was decided that the worship centre will now be used only as a residence and if their demands are not met, then they will launch a protest.

The third is the report on the PTA’s efforts to ban the internet, owing to, amongst other things, national security:

The government published a public tender last month for the “development, deployment and operation of a national-level URL filtering and blocking System.” Technology companies, academic institutions and other interested parties have until March 16 to submit proposals for the $10 million project — but anger about it has been growing both inside and outside Pakistan.

Censorship of the Web is nothing new in Pakistan, which, like other countries in the region, says it wants to uphold public morality, protect national security or prevent blasphemy. The government has blocked access to pornographic sites as well as, from time to time, mainstream services like Facebook and YouTube, Google’s video site.

Reading these reports in conjunction leads to the following propositions:

1. Sometimes suicide bombers have an easier time entering mosques than Ahmedis trying to pray.

2. Our national security is not just threatened by brutal militant groups but also by Facebook.

3. Facebook and porn are blasphemous but  forbidding people to pray in their mosques is not.

One thing worth noting about the PTI and its campaigning is the extent to which they’ve adopted gung-ho and fiery rhetoric. This is not just with regard to its characterizations of other parties and personalities, all of whom are some combination of corrupt, venal, self-serving, pusillanimous, and scum. This is also with regard to its beliefs about what it will accomplish once in power. For instance, Imran Khan recently said that he would not just end the war in 90 days, but also corruption in 19 days, which, if nothing else, is quite ambitious.

I don’t believe that Imran Khan actually believes this, but I can see why he would say it. But leaving aside the time limits the PTI is setting itself, it is worth noting that the PTI, at this point, has no experience in getting anything done. This is not intended as a criticism of the party at all; for many (most?) of their supporters, the lack of experience in governing is the most attractive thing about PTI.

My point is only that parties don’t just magically get things done in Pakistan. This is especially true in today’s Pakistan, where the stakeholders are too disparate and too great in number for an actor to just snap his or her fingers and have them agree. Forget the bureaucracy or the army for a second. Let’s just limit ourselves to parliamentary procedures. Even there, assuming a minority/coalition government at the center (a safe assumption), you’ve got to have other parties agree with you to get stuff passed.

When you look at the PPP, for instance, it’s shown a remarkable ability to get other parliamentary stakeholders on board for its legislation, from the 18th amendment to the 20th amendment, amongst others. This agreement is not born of accident. It doesn’t come from people saying, “Oh, the government proposed this? Let’s get on board immediately!”

Being a national party for almost fifty years has endowed the PPP hierarchy with an institutional memory and skill set that favors it. One does not have to like the game to appreciate that the PPP is good at playing it.

Don't hate the player. Photo: AP

Quite obviously, the PTI does not have this institutional memory. If, for instance, they were leading a coalition government, and the PML(N) suddenly made an about-turn as it did in the run-up the 18th amendment, would they know how to react and get the legislation passed? Or would it blow up in their face as they tried to bully themselves through? Would they be able to cajole the MQM when it needed to, as the PPP has? Keep one party (the ANP) in its pocket the whole time, without any serious threat of defection?

I want to reiterate that this, unlike many of my other posts on the PTI, is not intended as a criticism. I’m merely pointing out that compromise, exchange, and reading-and-reacting is an essential part of a political party’s repertoire when in charge of a country as fractured as Pakistan. These are acquired skills and come from experiencing the halls of power and opposition over generations. If I was a true dedicated supporter of the PTI and Imran Khan, this is one thing that would concern me. It’s all very well having the best of intentions and a can-do mentality. But practicing power is a little bit more complicated than that.

Well, it’s not every day a Pakistani wins an Oscar. Massive congratulations to Sharmeen Obaid Chinoy for winning an Oscar for her short documentary “Saving Face”.

Photo: Reuters

Also, kudos to her for her fantastic speech, which wasn’t long or rambling or self-involved or stupid, unlike 95% of these acceptance speeches. She was graceful and classy and concise and inspiring. It was really great to see.

I remember talking to my late brother about this stuff, and he impressed upon me the importance of tumult, either personal or social, for the creative process. His basic point was that without underlying tension of some sort that gnaws at the creator, art is usually bad. If nothing else, women having acid thrown in their face and a doctor trying to make those faces “normal” speaks to a particular type of tension. What I mean by that is that there is a certain type of man who feels okay throwing acid on a woman’s face, and there is a certain type of man that dedicates his life, in part, to doing what he can to help the victims of those attacks recover. Those two conceptions of how a man is obliged to behave are, obviously, in tension. I really look forward to watching the doc to see that in action.

Congrats again to Sharmeen, her family, and the rest of the crew behind “Saving Face”.

Last week, the government and opposition in Pakistan came together to carry out a very impressive achievement. Both houses of parliament, after some back and forth, passed the 20th amendment. Amongst other things, the 20th amendment provides for a fully independent election commission and an institutionalized, orderly transition by setting out the contours of the interim/caretaker government that would take over in the run up to elections. When analysts and opinion-makers talk about “strengthening democratic institutions”, this is exactly the type of thing they mean.

As Ayaz Amir noted in his column,

The 20th Amendment is a bit of a minor miracle – ensuring an independent election commission and neutral caretaker setups, going so far as to stipulate that if agreement fails between government and opposition on caretaker names, the final word will lie with the chief election commissioner. If this doesn’t stop the cry of election-rigging in Pakistan nothing ever will.

To the PML-N goes the principal credit for giving final shape to this amendment. It pushed long and hard and finally had its way. This was a far cry from its earlier stand when dark hints were thrown about resigning from the assemblies and forcing early elections. Different voices are often heard in the PML-N but ultimately, as we keep seeing, pragmatism prevails. The Memogate petition in the Supreme Court was an exception, good sense taking a back seat, but no point in pouring salt over an open wound.

The prime minister and his team, especially Khurshid Shah, also deserve credit for showing patience and not losing their cool, and not losing sight of the larger picture. Failure to agree on the 20th Amendment could have jeopardized much more, including the Senate election.

This goes along with a theme I’ve touched upon repeatedly during the last couple years. Namely, that there is a serious disjuncture in this government’s ability to get things done. The capital-p Politics stuff, they’re excellent at. The 18th amendment, marking the first time a head of state in Pakistan gave up power and privileges, for instance. Allowing political parties in FATA. The Balochistan package. The Gilgit-Baltistan reforms. The anti-women violence bill. And now the 20th amendment. On some major institutional and constitutional issues, they’ve done a good job. What they’re seriously bad at is the stuff that impacts people’s day-to-day lives, like the energy crisis or law and order.

To return to the main point of the post, the 20th amendment is an important achievement. You would think Imran Khan would be behind it, given his rhetoric in the past. After all, he’s said things like

Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf Chairman Imran Khan declared that no general election would be tolerated prior to rectification of bogus electoral lists.

Addressing a joint press conference along with Air Marshal (r) Asghar Khan of Tehreek-e-Istaqlal (TI) on Monday at the latter’s residence, he announced his strong resolve to struggle for an independent Election Commission

He said that he was the man who had introduced neutral umpires in cricket and would also continue his efforts for an independent Election Commission.

So when the cause of independent election commission is served, why is this his reaction?

Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) chairperson Imran Khan said on Tuesday that the 20th Amendment was stacked up against his party in particular because PTI was becoming a real electoral threat to both, the Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP) and Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz (PML-N).

“The 20th Amendment was just passed by the PPP and PML-N to strengthen their hold on power and to prevent PTI from sweeping the next general elections,” said Khan.

Strongly rejecting the amendment, Khan said that PML-N continues to support the wrongdoings of the government so that both the PPP and PML-N could have a share in the corrupt power structures prevailing at present.

Calling it a fraud and violation of the Constitution and democratic principles, Imran said the amendment condones elections carried out against the provisions of the Constitution.

“A complete fraud has been committed by the government in collusion with the main opposition party,” Imran stated.

Really? “A complete fraud?” That’s your opinion?

Always ripe for a head-scratching comment, Immy is. Photo: AP

It’s obvious that Imran Khan is being disingenuous here. Even he can’t be that stupid. He obviously believes this is a good step in the right direction, but refuses to say so because he can’t bring himself to say anything remotely nice about the PPP and PML-N. It’s a little churlish and a little immature.

Memo to PTI: sometimes your political opponents do worthy things. A quiet nod of appreciation, even amidst the cacophony of Pakistani politics, would not be remiss.

I was doing some archival work and came across this gem of an editorial titled “Berlin Lion Taming” from the New York Times on November 23, 1932.

I have a much shorter commute since I moved from Chicago. This change has both merits and demerits. Obviously, all else being equal, it’s better to spend less time on a bus or subway, if you can help it. On the other hand, less time on the bus and/or subway also means less reading for fun. It’s taken me a while to get through the books listed below. Anyway, here are my thoughts on these books, arranged in alphabetical order of the authors.

Empires of the Indus: From Tibet to Pakistan, the story of a river by Alice Albinia

Really lovely read, this. Part political history, part travel diary, part long form essay, it’s just a beautifully rendered story about the Indus, its past, its future, the people who’ve relief on it for millenia, the civilizations it’s spawned, the wars its seen, how its drying up in Sindh, what China’s uber-development model means for it, and a gazillion other things I’m forgetting.  I really enjoyed this. You should buy it and read it.

Instant City: Life and Death in Karachi by Steve Inskeep

Gotta say, I was a bit underwhelmed by this. Maybe it’s because I was so, so looking forward to it that it couldn’t match my expectations. After all, I’m always on the lookout for books and articles about Karachi, mainly because it so rarely receives serious, sustained treatment from academics or journalists.

My main critique of the book is that it doesn’t really dive into Karachi the way one might expect the author to. There are, broadly speaking, two ways one can provide a great deal of depth. One is by studying extensively the academic scholarship on a region or phenomenon, and then placing one particular subject in that context. The other is by spending lots and lots of time with locals, living and breathing their lives, and writing up ones impressions after that.

I thin Inskeep goes for the latter option but it’s just not as powerful a story as I would’ve hoped. For instance, it really pales in comparison to Suketu Mehta’s Maximum City on Mumbai, in which I felt Mehta really got to know the characters inside out which in turn allowed the reader to know the characters inside out. There’s a superficial feel to the whole thing.

The one area where Inskeep definitely deserves credit is explaining how Karachi developed as a geographical construct at the neighborhood level. That’s something you don’t really see out there. But I found most everything else about the book quite meh.

Football against the enemy by Simon Kuper

I’m generally very interested in how socio-political identities form and are mediated through existing institutional and social structures, so this book was right up my alley. It’s concerned with how football matters beyond the pitch, and how the sport interacts with identities and socio-political cleavages. Why does Barcelona mean what it does to Catalunya? Why is Rangers-Celtic such a serious rivalry? What role did football play in the unification of South Africa post-apartheid?

I liked this book for the most part, but there was something throughout it that kind of bothered me., Kuper takes as a given the existing explanations for why football matters to a certain populace, rather than problematizing it and being skeptical of what he’s told by locals. It’s just something that gnawed at me throughout. I would also add that the chapter on Argentina and how its military junta (mis)appropriated football to their ends is fair enough regarding the facts, but there’s something about the tone. Kuper is a Briton writing in the early 1990s, with (presumably) the memory of the Falklans war fresh in his mind, and it’s very clear that he adopts mainstream British attitudes toward Argentina and Argentine football.

Deception: Pakistan, the United States, and the Secret Trade in Nuclear Weapons by Adrian Levy and Catherine Scott-Clark

Thrill a minute, this book. Before I say anything else, I’d like to commend the authors for meticulously tracing about forty years of records, statements, archives, letters, memos and god knows what else to put this together. It’s incredibly well-researched and kudos to the authors for that.

This book is not just about A.Q. Khan, though he obviously features prominently in it. One thing that caught me by surprise (amongst others) is the extent to which the Reagan administration did Pakistan’s bidding in the 1980s. I mean, I knew they looked the other way and stuff while we were producing nukes. I had no idea how that process actually played out, until I read this. You won’t believe some of the shenanigans those guys were up to: covering up CIA findings, picking fights with other agencies, putting the Pentagon and State at odds with other arms of the U.S. government, knowingly lying to Congress about Pakistan’s nuclear capabilities, destroying careers and lives…it’s all there. And it’s quite unbelievable.

There’s obviously a lot of information on the Pakistan side as well, so this is a very valuable resource for anyone doing research in the areas of nuclear proliferation, acquisition, and the nuclear balance in South Asia. One thing worth noting is how crazy and nutty and evil Generals Hamid Gul and Mirza Aslam Beg come across. They’re the type of characters only the Zaid Hamid types like at the best of times, but even against the baseline of low expectations, they come across really badly. Their antics from around the time Zia died/was killed to about halfway through Nawaz Sharif’s first term really have to be read to be fathomed.

Pakistan: A Hard Country by Anatol Lieven

This book caused a lot of angst amongst people I respect and admire in the Pakistan intelligentsia but I didn’t quite understand why. Is it too favorable to the military’s point of view? Yes, undoubtedly. It puts a halo around their head in a way that most liberal types probably don’t appreciate. But I do think the extent of his generosity to the khakis has been overstated; this certainly doesn’t read like a 500 page Ejaz Haider column, if that’s what your impression is.

I recall when it came out that someone (sorry, I forget who) made a really big deal about Lieven using “democracy” in quote marks to talk about Pakistan. Well, the reason is very clear, and Lieven sets it out in the first few pages of the book: democracy does not imply constitutionalism or liberalism, and so while Pakistan may be a procedural democracy, it has a ways to go to become anything resembling a rights-based constitutional state. That’s all the point of the quote marks was, as I understood it.

There’s plenty Lieven either gets wrong or doesn’t cover at all, but his central point — that patronage is the oil that greases the wheels of the Pakistani socio-political system, and that this is both a blessing and a curse — is well taken. I would also commend him for getting out of Islamabad and Lahore, walking the streets and talking to “ordinary” Pakistanis, which very few foreigners do when writing about Pakistan.

The overall point I would make is that this book is aimed at a very specific audience: the OSD or State Department Pakistan-Desk staffer or the New York Times op-ed writer who thinks Pakistan is on the verge of collapse any minute now. He is trying to disabuse them of that notion. And he does a fairly good job of it. If you don’t know Pakistan very well but would like to learn more, this book is a decent place to start because it covers a lot of bases. It doesn’t cover any one area very well but that’s to be expected of a book of this type.

Young Mr. Obama: Chicago and the Making of a Black President by Edward McClelland

This book’s narrative ends in 2004, so if you’re looking for any insight into Obama’s run-in to the presidency, you should look elsewhere. No, this book is about Obama’s time as an Illinois State Senator, and in particular his story in Chicago — from his time as a lawyer to community organizer to politician (one of the lessons of the book is those three professions, at least in the way Obama practiced them, are not so different as they first appear).

I really enjoyed this one. It gives you really valuable insight into one of the central questions about Obama as a politician, that is, the mismatch between his soaring rhetoric and his incrementalist style. I know it’s said that politicians “campaign in poetry and govern in prose” but Obama really takes that to the extreme, and this book gives some answers as to why. It traces his political development, and shows that throughout his life (at least until the presidency), Obama’s main challenge has been to convince middle-class, moderate voters that he is not a liberal elitist in love with himself and his fancy Harvard law degree. As a consequence, he extends a hand to his opponents to convince them of his good intentions, even when they are uninterested in compromise. Moreover, his accomplishments in the Illinois Senate, limited though they are, were as a result of his adhering strongly to his oft-cited “don’t make the perfect the enemy of the good” thing.

There’s a lot of lessons here for people who wish to understand Obama, the man and the politician. I’d recommend it pretty strongly if you’re at all interested in the subject matter.

Fermat’s Enigma: The Epic Quest to Solve the World’s Greatest Mathematical Problem by Simon Singh

Honestly, I don’t remember much about this book, given I read it about 4-5 months ago. One thing I do recall appreciating was that it was a lot less technical than (a) Singh’s other book I’ve read, The Codebook, and (b) what I expected. It’s mostly just the story of Fermat’s Last Theorem, which as Wikipedia will tell you, states

no three positive integers a, b, and c can satisfy the equation aⁿ + bⁿ = cⁿ for any integer value of n greater than two.

It goes into the ups and downs Andrew Wiles faced while proving the theorem, thought to be one of math’s toughest problems. Can’t say too much else about it, I’m afraid (though I have to say I was a teeny tiny bit disappointed that Wiles turned out to be a regular dude; I always like to imagine professional mathematicians as crazy guys with long hair who live with their mother and eat only cheese, kinda like this guy).

One thing that bothers me about how Pakistan conducts its foreign policy is how narrowly it is focused on a few states. The four horsemen of Pakistan’s foreign policy are: the U.S., China, Saudi Arabia, and India. These states take an overwhelming and disproportionate level of our government’s interest, time, money, effort. Almost everything we do is run through the prism of relations with one or more of these states.

Now, it’s trivially true that some partners and/or rivals will be more important than others, depending on history, geography, the distribution of power, and so on. This much is true for all countries.

What’s unique, or at least noteworthy, about the situation in Pakistan is the near-absence of other areas and regions of the world. Think about it: when’s the last time you heard about an important state visit to/from Brazil? Or Australia? Or South Korea?

I don’t know the first thing about investment and money, but I’ve always heard the phrase “diversifying your portfolio”. Well, Pakistan’s portfolio is not very diverse at all. It puts us at a disadvantage, in that we are more vulnerable to small changes in each of the four aforementioned states.

Furthermore, we leave a lot of potential gains on the table by ignoring different parts of the world. Consider textiles. Pakistan’s textile industry constitutes about sixty percent of its exports. It is a massive, massive part of our economy. So with good reason, we have approached the U.S. (unsuccessfully) and the EU (successfully, it seems) to loosen tariffs and trade barriers on textiles.

Now, with respect to our successful lobbying with the EU, this is great news. The reason this is great news is that there are a number of countries in the EU which, presumably, would very much like our textiles. The following is a list culled from the CIA World Factbook, with countries whose “main” imports include textiles. The EU countries are shaded orange.

Source data: CIA World Factbook

Of course, there happens to be another region of the world that would, presumably, very much like our textiles. Here’s the list from above again, but this time with African countries shaded blue.

Source data: CIA World Factbook

Now, it’s perfectly plausible that we have, in fact, engaged in a lot of lobbying efforts for more trade with Africa, and I just haven’t heard about it. But I’ve never really heard anyone else talk about it either. My guess is our economic, political and diplomatic relationships with African countries, particularly the non Arab ones, are essentially dormant.

I’m only using textiles (and Africa, for that matter) as an illustration of a broader point. Pakistan needs to do a better job of engaging with states out there on the basis of mutual interests. Maybe it’s not trade, but rather cultural exchange programs. Or student scholarships, or sports tours, or whatever. There’s a whole lot of foreign policy beyond drones, war, terrorism, and oil, and there’s a whole lot of countries out there not named the U.S., China, Saudi Arabia, and India. I hope the new power team from LUMS in charge of our foreign ministry grapples with this issue a little bit.

There is a conventional wisdom out there — parroted often by the likes of Imran Khan — that the Taliban and their local affiliates act the way they do because they are solely and exclusively motivated by the presence of foreign troops in Afghanistan, as well as Pakistan’s alliance with the U.S.

By this logic, the Taliban are a nationalist force, standing up for their nation, which is alternatively considered the Pashtun nation or the Afghan state, depending on one’s own beliefs and opinions on the boundaries of their political identity.

With that as background, here’s an excerpt from a piece by Ijaz Khan in the Friday Times:

Nationalist movements promote and protect national language, culture and identity through political expression. They aim to control their affairs without outside interference. They are about managing their economic resources by themselves. They may want autonomy within a multinational state in order to structure it to protect their identity, or in certain cases for an independent state of their own.

Taliban meet none of these criteria in Afghanistan or Pakistan, and therefore cannot be considered a Pashtun nationalist movement. They take ideological and political inspiration from Arabs and other non-Pashtuns. They have consciously, as a matter of policy, targeted different cultural traits of Pashtuns, like tribal councils and folk music; they are not concerned about the language and promote mostly Arabic and/or interestingly, Urdu; Economic resources or their control is not their concern; neither is any political or administrative manifestation of Pashtun identity their goal.

They have killed a large number of traditional Pashtun elders in FATA and banned the Jirga as means of dispute settlement in areas under their influence. They have been eliminating the Pashtun way of life.

Isn’t it instructive that scholars who actually know the area, such as Ijaz Khan (University of Peshawar) or the oft-cited Farhat Taj, completely and unequivocally reject the Imran Khan thesis? This idea that the Taliban are somehow representative of the Pashtun nation, and are fighting and dying for them, is just silly.

Within the study of civil war in political science, non-state movements are generally divided between ethnically focused and ideologically focused. Obviously this is often a too-rigid categorization, but it’s useful because the two types of mobilizations often have different goals.

Those movements that are ethnically motivated are generally what we call nationalist movements. These tend to be focused heavily on a particular piece of territory, since group identity and territory have a very strong relationship. So if all xs are concentrated in region X, then it’s unlikely that the xs will launch a movement, violent or otherwise, in regions other than X. This is because (a) they don’t care about regions other than X; in fact, their mobilizations are often motivated by demanding increasing separation from X and non-X areas, and (b) there’s not enough xs in the non-X region for them to congeal in a movement worth worrying about. Examples include the Tamils in northern Sri Lanka or the Bengalis in former East Pakistan.

Those that are ideologically motivated tend to be focused on control of the state or political unit at large. They are not interested in controlling a sliver of territory, they are interested in re-orienting the state. The important thing to note is that granting a piece of territory to the agents of the movement is unlikely to satisfy them, since their movement is not based on the control of territory in the first place. Examples include the Communist Party of China or the various right-wing militias operating in Latin America during the Cold War.

This distinction matters because it gets at the heart of the debate on the war in Pakistan and whether it is worth fighting. If you believe that the Taliban and their local affiliates are nationalists, then it makes sense to give them control of various districts or maybe even a whole province, in the hope that that’s what they want, and will therefore cause them to stop mounting violent challenges to the state.

If you believe that the Taliban and their local affiliates are ideologues, then it doesn’t make sense to give them control of various districts because they will only use that control to consolidate their material capabilities to launch yet further assaults on the state and its citizens.

I wish we lived in a world where the Taliban were indeed nationalists because it would mean that there is fairly self-evident solution to the violence. Unfortunately we do not and there is not. Imran Khan, however, continues to believe that they are and that there is. Reasonable people can disagree on the extent to which force should be used, what type of force (air power vs shock troops vs full-blown incisions) is to be used, how negotiations should be constructed, which actors should be invited to the negotiations, and so on. But no reasonable person can believe that the “war can be ended in 90 days” or that the Taliban are likely to go quietly into the sunset if you hand over a bunch of territory to them.

There is a certain generation of Pakistani cricket fans — provisionally, we can say those born between 1975 and 1985 — that have grown up with a very particular worldview when it comes to cricketing miracles. In short, they believe that they are not miracles at all, mainly because they happened too often, and in ways that were too predictable, to be truly providential.

These predictable, orderly miracles usually go something like this: Pakistan hem and haw for three or four days, dropping catches, playing stupid shots, bowling wides, getting wickets off no-balls, and so on. The opposition, usually a good but not great team such as early 90s New Zealand or mid 1990s England, have done the hard work, and are poised to finish off a game with one or two sessions of good, solid play. And then they get blown away.

I choose that metaphor very carefully. Watching Wasim and Waqar and Saqlain and Mushie and Shoaib in their heyday was a little like watching Omar Little in his element — it was fun, but it was also very violent. There was something comically brutal about the way they went about their business. Collapses against that Pakistan team were gory murder scenes: the stumps splayed, batsmen hopping, fielders rendered unnecessary.

Yesterday was something very different. It was a choke, a suffocation. Pakistan essentially shut England in an airtight room, closed the windows and doors, threw the keys away, and waited. I’ve never really seen anything like it.

Forget the 10 wickets for a second. Just think about the drip-drip-drip of those first fourteen overs — where we got zero wickets but conceded only 18 runs. Those fourteen overs set the stage for everything that came after. It was marked by brilliant bowling and even more brilliant captaincy. Misbah’s field placings were so intelligent — he simultaneously had attacking fielders, single-saving fielders, and boundary-saving fielders. You had to look twice to make sure we hadn’t cheated by sneaking on three extra guys on the ground. One common refrain from the commentators was that England were going nowhere. But that’s because Misbah left them nowhere to go. This was Stephen Fleming and Mark Taylor level captaincy, maybe better.

And once one fell, you just got the feeling — apologies for channeling Ravi Shastri — that one would lead to two and more. England’s rejigging of the batting order meant that once Cook got out, their next four wickets were the cheapest ones until you got to the end: Strauss, Bell, Pietersen, and Morgan are all either out of form, not particularly good against spin, or not particularly good in general.It gave us the opening we needed.

I didn’t think 145 would be enough though, certainly at the beginning of the innings. It’s such a low total that you just need one half partnership, say 50 or 60, and the game’s over. One wayward spell, one dropped catch, one silly decision, and it was done. But somehow, some way, England never managed it.

But talking about what happened is less important than talking about what it meant. There’s been enough written about our trials and tribulations over the last few years, both on and off the cricket field, so I won’t rehash all of that right now. Instead, I want to make a slightly different but related point.

When people use cliches like “cricket means a lot to Pakistan and Pakistanis” they obscure as much as they reveal. We know that cricket matters but how does cricket matter? It’s very difficult to explain to outsiders. The way I think about is this: very few of us actually know international cricketers personally, but we all act like we do. I know that sounds strange, but hear me out.

The point is that by consuming so much information about cricketers, their exploits, and their stories through magazine profiles, Cricinfo Statsguru, fan forums, rumors, Youtube videos of them dancing, and everything else available publicly (and some things that are not), Pakistanis feel like they have a pretty good sense of who their cricketing representatives are. We start forming a picture of their personalities and their background, and start pigeonholing them into our own social fabric. For example, when I see a bunch of londas on motorbikes on Seaview, I think “there goes Shoaib Akhtar!” When I hear stories about some sifarshi getting ahead in his company, I think “Ah, an Imran Farhat then.” And so on.

So yesterday, when I saw the entire team jumping in each other’s arms and hugging each other and grinning their impish grins, it made me so, so happy.

No words necessary. Photo: AP

It was such a powerful experience. I could see what it meant to them because I had internalized the pain they felt over the last couple of years. Their struggles had become our struggles because, for better or worse, that’s how Pakistanis live.

It really was an experience I’ll never forget. Combined with the delirium that comes from being awake at an absurd hour, I got really emotional. I got into bed at 7:30 a.m., but not before shaking the W awake, and telling her that we won a game we had no business competing in (she was not amused or appreciative, but whatever, I needed to tell her for my sake if not hers).

I was clearly not alone. Facebook and Twitter, as they are wont to do at times such as these, blew up. Evidently all the main channels back home led their bulletins with the match. I am sure we have played better cricket in my lifetime, but this may be, alongside Melbourne in 1992 and Lords in 2009, our most meaningful win in a long, long time.

I think it’s important that we just cherish this win, revel in it, and remember it. I hope we don’t start thinking of this as a jumping off point for something grander, because, let’s be honest, that’s not how things work around here. Things are just as likely to go horribly pear-shaped from here as anything else: maybe a power struggle ensues when Whatmore takes over; maybe Mohsin Khan doesn’t go quietly into the sunset; maybe a couple of senior players get jealous of all the Misbah adulation in the media; maybe we go to Australia, South Africa or England and discover the truth that other than Younis and Azhar, none of our batters are good enough for those pitches. It’s better to not worry about the future, enjoy the present, and thank those who gave it to us: #TeamMisbah.

I think KG is trying to tell us all something:

I can’t decide what it is about this interview that I love the most. Is it that KG started talking before Craig Sager had even asked a question, then realizing thirty seconds in that he was being asked a question? Is it that KG was swaying and shaking like a heroin addict? Is it that he went from saying “bar fight” eight times to wishing his teammate on the birth of a child to complimenting Sager’s suit?

By the way, it should be noted that were Kevin Garnett in an actual bar fight, he would most likely jump up and down a lot, yell a lot, and find the smallest guy (or maybe a chair) to take on.

“History does not repeat itself. It rhymes.” — Mark Twain

The funny thing about England-Pakistan cricket is that is has essentially become a caricature of itself. Even when everyone, cognizant of the history between the sides, tries to turn the temperature down and take the steam out of relations, some conflict has to arise. It’s almost like it cannot be helped. It is the Groundhog Day of cricket series.

We’ve seen this movie before, right? Pakistan defeats England using a skill the latter cannot understand, much less execute. Whispers begin, aspersions are cast. First, we only kick their ass thanks to biased home umpires (I am sure David Constant and the Palmer brothers were paragons of fairness and impartiality). Then we only kick their asses because we tamper with the ball (never mind that Wasim and Waqar, as Geoff Boycott memorably claimed, would have bowled England out using an orange). And now we’re only kicking their asses because our best bowler is a chucker.

Is this an unfair reading of the last two days? I would submit to you that it is not. As long as Bob Willis and a bunch of internet warriors on comment boards were the only ones making the case that Ajmal is bowling illegally, I let it slide. Who cares what an old crank and online nobodies think?

But once Andy Flower waded in, well, that’s a whole other issue. When he says what he did — and please, do not let his clever way of phrasing his accusation of cheating distract from the fact that it was an accusation of cheating — it represents an escalation. Andy Flower is the England coach. He speaks for England.

Of course, it’s important to note that other personalities who speak for England, from Matt Prior to Andrew Strauss, have (publicly) denied that there’s anything to complain about Ajmal’s action. Media men and ex-cricketers such as Nasser Hussain have (guardedly) backed Ajmal. So this is not a full-court assault as 1992 was. But it doesn’t have to be to leave a very bitter taste in Pakistan fans’ mouths.

The worst thing about this situation is the nature of the target. I can’t think of a single more genial, big-hearted, fun guy than Saeed Ajmal. He always plays the game with a smile on his face. His interviews have achieved cult-like status on Youtube. He’s just a genuine dude. I challenge you to watch this bit of an interview Ajmal did on Geo, and not feel equal parts love and affection (for Ajmal) and contempt (for the host), as Ajmal talks about his dad dying (starts around 32:00).

Ajmal has actually had a very un-Pakistani route to stardom. For one thing, he’s a spinner. I can’t think of a single other instance in our history when our best bowler was a spinner; it’s just not the way things are done in Pakistan. For another, he didn’t break into the team until he was past 30. When you juxtapose that with the fact that, on the list of the youngest test debutants of all time, Pakistanis occupy the top three spots, and ten of the top twenty, Ajmal’s uniqueness becomes clear.

I should also note that Ajmal is in a run of form rivalled by few Pakistani spinners, ever. In that sense, the timing of these complaints is, shall we say, more than convenient. Abdul Qadir is universally (and I believe wrongly) thought of as Pakistan’s best ever spinner; Ajmal is ranked higher than Qadir ever was, and has more ratings points than Qadir ever did.

Source: ICC rankings

His comparisons with Saqlain Mushtaq and Mushtaq Ahmed (criminally underrated by Pakistani fans, even retrospectively) are also interesting viewing. Saqlain never had a ranking as high as Ajmal, for whatever it’s worth. Mushtaq did; he was the world’s best bowler at one time.

Source: ICC rankings

Source: ICC rankings

I may be tempting fate here, but I really don’t think this chucking hullabaloo is likely to effect Ajmal. He may have a friendly exterior but the dude has balls of steel. He had the mental strength to stay with cricket despite not making it until an age when most Pakistanis are retired. He had the mental strength to deal with family tragedies and carry on playing for Pakistan. He had the mental strength to recover from that Hussey innings. He stood up to some fearsome fast bowling on England’s last tour, with essentially no batting technique or talent, and made a fifty accompanied by a host of bruises all over his body. He’s dealt with chucking allegations before. This is not going to faze him.

Hero. Photo: AP/Matt Dunham

But Ajmal’s ability to withstand this assault is, in many ways, besides the point. The crux of the issue is the presence of the assault in the first place. Why did Flower say what he did? Did he really think the perceived benefit of playing mindgames was worth the cost, given our history with England? Does he care?

Here’s what I want to happen: Ajmal to take another 10-fer in Sharjah. Ajmal to walk off the ground with the ball raised in his palm. And Ajmal to look up at the English dressing room and smile that Duncan Fletcher smile that so incensed Ricky Ponting in 2005. That would be sweet.

I’ve watched a number of Republican debates in this primary season. The first thing I would say about them is that they provide a very revealing window in a world I am very unfamiliar with. I don’t read right wing blogs (with the exception of Greg Mankiw’s econ blog) , I don’t really have many right-wing friends, I don’t watch Fox News, and I don’t click on email forwards with the subject “Socialists Pelosi and Obama destroying America, here’s how”. All of my American friends pronounce the first “A” in “America”. You could say I live a pretty cloistered life, ideologically speaking.

So these Republican debates are very useful in that regard, because they give me a sense of what’s going on in that world. Not a completely accurate sense, obviously — there’s only so much you can infer from the reality-TV-ized version of politics that plays out on our screen every few weeks — but some sense. For instance, before watching these debates, I had no idea Ben Bernanke was such a hated (or even known) figure on the right. After watching these debates, these google search suggestions for Bernanke made a whole lot more sense:

This then leads me to the point of this post, which is Newt Gingrich’s racially charged comments in the South Carolina debate two nights ago. Check them out for yourself:

Now, there’s a couple of things to be said about this. An innocuous reading of Gingrich’s comments would be: well, what’s the issue? He wants to help black people find jobs! Even if they happen to be janitorial jobs for children in the very schools that they’re supposed to be learning, they’re still jobs! Black people should be thrilled!

Of course, no one can do a better job of skewering this view than Jon Stewart, so I would strongly encourage you to watch this clip as well as this one.

Moreover, it’s hard for someone not in the US or relatively well-versed in American politics to understand why his comments were so over the top. This was not some innocent exhortation for disadvantaged minorities to help themselves. This was dog-whistle racial politics at its finest. By calling Obama a “food stamp President” and reinforcing the belief that minorities can do better in the US simply by working harder, Gingrich was pressing exactly the right buttons, given his audience (southern Republicans). As Charles Blow writes,

Gingrich seems to understand the historical weight of the view among some southern whites, many of whom have migrated to the Republican party, that blacks are lazy and addicted to handouts. He is able to give voice to those feelings without using those words. He is able to make people believe that a fundamentally flawed and prejudicial argument that demeans minorities is actually for their uplift. It is Gingrich’s gift: He is able to make ill will sound like good will.

Or as James Fallows notes in a post I strongly encourage you to read:

Newt Gingrich knows exactly what he is doing when he calls Obama the “food stamp” president, just as Ronald Reagan knew exactly what he was doing when talking about “welfare Cadillacs.” There are lots of other ways to make the point about economic hard times — entirely apart from which person and which policies are to blame for today’s mammoth joblessness, and apart from the fact that Congress sets food stamp policies. You could call him the “pink slip president,” the “foreclosure president,” the “Walmart president,” the “Wall Street president,” the “Citibank president,” the “bailout president,” or any of a dozen other images that convey distress. You decide to go with “the food stamp president,” and you’re doing it on purpose.

If Joe Lieberman had been elected, I would be wary of attacks on his economic policy that called him “the cunning, tight-fisted president.” If Henry Cisneros had or Ken Salazar does, I would notice arguments about ineffectiveness phrased as “the mañana administration.” If Gary Locke were in office, then “the Manchurian candidate” jokes that had been used on John Huntsman would have a different edge. And so on. This reader may not recognize it as a dog whistle, but I have no doubt that Newt Gingrich knows what it is. I don’t think that Gingrich has had a racist-style political career; on the contrary. But he knows what this language does.

The second thing to note about Gingrich’s comments is the shrieking joy in the crowd that greeted them. I honestly should not be surprised anymore — this is the same party whose debates have prompted wild applause at sick people dying because of a lack of insurance — but I am, for whatever reason. And this goes full circle to my comments at the beginning of the post. These debates and the crowd reactions in them give me a great insight as to what the Republican base thinks and feels about certain issues. From booing the fact that Romney’s father was born in Mexico to cheering for Bernanke’s treason trial, from electric fences to torture, it’s illuminating. And then I have to remind myself that this is one of the two major parties in the most powerful country in the world, and that’s when I bury my head in my hands.

What amazes me is that even discounting one’s moral and ethical revulsion at rhetoric like this, don’t Republicans realize that if they keep saying stuff like this, black people won’t vote for them? That if they keep demonizing Hispanics and immigration, that Latinos won’t vote for them? That if they publicly call for racial profiling of Muslims, that Muslims won’t vote for them? I have been taught in graduate school the remarkable tenet that political parties like attracting votes. The Republicans have a very strange way of going about it.

I remember when drone attacks first started. The right wing press and email forwards were filled with fantastical news about these American robot planes, unmanned, killing people from the sky in Pakistan’s border regions. Oh, how I laughed. Demented right wingers. American robot planes? Please stop.

They turned out to be right.

I remember when rumors about Blackwater agents in Pakistan first started. The right wing press and email forward were filled with breathless news about these 6’4″ American agents running around Pakistani cities, doing intelligence and security work for the CIA. Oh, how I laughed. Silly, silly right wingers. Blackwater in Pakistan? Please stop.

They turned out to be right.

And then there was the “terrorists in Pakistan are supported by the CIA and Mossad” conspiracy theory. Fools, I shouted. Why must we blame outsiders when the problem is staring us in the face?

Oops.

I now fully expect the following dominos to fall:

1. 9/11 was an inside job.

2. Asif Zardari really did ask Asifa to make that phone call to Benazir.

3. The floods were indeed caused by India.

4. NFP and Najam Sethi are CIA agents.

In all seriousness, stuff like this really does raise the question of how seemingly implausible and crazy scenarios actually come to fruition. It certainly gives me pause, that’s for sure.

Anyway, I urge you to go and read the story. It’s basically only tangentially relevant to Pakistan. But it’s very, very interesting for the following reasons:

1. You’re starting to see some real exasperation within the intelligence and security communities in the U.S. with its putative ally, Israel. I wonder if episodes like this, along with the assassination of Iranian nuclear scientists, portend a rupture within the U.S. establishment on the question of Israel, with the Congress and media on one side and the defence and intelligence communities on the other. If you think I am exaggerating, just go ahead and read the story. I haven’t seen U.S. intelligence officials express that much angst since the last time I read a story on Pakistan. You’ve got quotes like

“It’s amazing what the Israelis thought they could get away with,” the intelligence officer said. “Their recruitment activities were nearly in the open. They apparently didn’t give a damn what we thought.”

and

“But while false-flag operations are hardly new, they’re extremely dangerous. You’re basically using your friendship with an ally for your own purposes. Israel is playing with fire. It gets us involved in their covert war, whether we want to be involved or not.”

and

This was stupid and dangerous,” the intelligence official who first told me about the operation said. “Israel is supposed to be working with us, not against us. If they want to shed blood, it would help a lot if it was their blood and not ours. You know, they’re supposed to be a strategic asset. Well, guess what? There are a lot of people now, important people, who just don’t think that’s true.”

2. I think it’s very, very plausible that Israel is trying to bait Iran into doing something stupid, such that the outbreak of hostilities can be blamed on them. It’s a bit like Thomas Schelling’s “last clear chance to avoid war” model, except in this case, Israel doesn’t want to avoid war. It just doesn’t want to “officially” start it.

3. Even if Israel is successful in drawing Iran (and the U.S.) into a war that purportedly compromises Iran’s nuclear program, what exactly happens afterward? As Elbridge Colby and Austin Long argue:

But perhaps the most important argument against attacking Iran has received less attention. That is that none of the attack proponents can give a sensible answer to the question General David Petraeus posed at the beginning of the Iraq war: “How does this end?” Kroenig and other advocates for war note, correctly, that a strike against Iran could do substantial damage to Iran’s program. But they fail to explain how the United States will prevent Iran from simply restarting its program, this time in deadly earnest. Moreover, they don’t explain why such strikes won’t contribute to the immediate rallying of the Iranian people around the otherwise reviled regime.

If I’m Iran, I go full-speed ahead on trying to develop full blown nuclear weapons capability (none of this latent capability stuff they’ve been toying with) at the same time as staying the hell away from any other provocative gestures that would give the Israelis (and Americans to an extent) the excuse they’re looking for.

Quelle surprise. Leo Messi has won his third Ballon d’Or in a row. Who would bet against a fourth, or a fifth? I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that Cruyff predicted he’d win seven overall. Barring injury, or boredom on behalf of voters – the same boredom that saw Charles Barkley and Karl Malone win the MVP in the NBA over Michael Jordan in 1993 and 1997 respectively – I’d expect him to surpass that. Touch on wood.

One thing I would like to emphasize about Leo is that he is very, very fun to watch. That may seem a bit obvious but one can often be very good at one’s job and also be a bit boring or dry (think Sampras or Duncan or Kallis or McGrath). But not with him. Essentially every single time I watch him play, he makes me happy to be alive. I’m very serious when I say that. He brings a joy to people’s lives that would not exist otherwise.

Part of this, I think, is due to Messi himself loving the game in a boyish, playground kind of way. While the scientific and professional side of sports is all-encompassing — diet, nutrition, training, sleeping, even one’s sexual habits are now dictated by the exigencies of being a modern athlete — there do exist the odd exceptions. I have no doubt that Messi takes training and diet seriously. I also have no doubt that he’d rather not bother with it all. At the end of the day, he’s still the kid who likes to run rings around the opposition, the same way he was as a five year old.

I remember the only time I got to watch Barcelona live, in an exhibition match in Seattle. It gave me a chance to watch the players warm up before kickoff. The two players who took the stretching and pre-match exercises most seriously were Xavi and Puyol, as you might expect. The guy who took them least seriously was Messi. He trotted around, pretended to stretch without actually doing so, kicked a few balls, and generally just messed around without appearing too disrespectful to the coaching staff. He just wanted to play. None of this fancy sports engineering stuff. Just blow the whistle and let’s go.

His enthusiasm for the game, and only the game, is so refreshing and joyful. He’s still a street player in so many ways, a guy unaffected by agents and supermodels and pressure and the media. He just plays football. Long may it continue.

Anyway, having seen my fair share of Messi videos on Youtube, I can assure you that the one below is the best.

Side note: It is very clear from the voting for the award that certain countries — I’m looking at you, Azerbaijan, Burundi, New Zealand, and Pakistan, amongst others — should have their privilege of mattering for these awards revoked. Some truly shocking votes, really.