An American Journeys Into Pakistan

ISLAMABAD, Pakistan, Sept. 9, 2007 — -- The Islamabad airport is like a tool shed with planes -- not so big, cluttered, plunked in someone's backyard. There's no taxi-way, so you land, make a u-turn and head on up the runway toward the terminal.

There's one line for foreign passport holders and the man in the blue shirt was very concerned with where I'm staying. It's the Serena Hotel by the way, very nice, very secure.

You can faintly hear the muezzin from a nearby mosque blending with the clattering air conditioners. It's hot but not unbearably so. The city is quite green and framed by the picturesque Margallah hills.

This is a government town. There are impressive state buildings and not much else. We drove past the Red Mosque, scene of the deadly government siege earlier this summer. It's down the road from a sizeable KFC.

Pakistan is locked in a battle with itself between modern and fundamentalist forces. Religion was fostered here in the 1980s as a means to recruit soldiers for the Afghan war against the Soviets, and the relationship between the military and the mosque has continued.

Now the United States is imploring the Pakistani army to kill the same people it once found useful, and the people here resent it. It has driven down President Musharraf's popularity and most everyone we've met said it is time for Musharraf to go.

The religious influence also means you can't buy single-malt Scotch. Two bottles were requested by a friend here so I picked them up from duty-free at the Abu Dhabi airport. There wasn't much of a selection, but apparently Glenfiddich 12-year is universal.

I might return from Pakistan weighing a ton more. Everyone we meet wants to serve tea and something to eat. During one visit, we had a sandwich of indeterminate variety. During another, fried something. Cookies were served at a third house. Caffeine and crap -- a heck of a combination -- but one indicative of the hospitality here.

The Pakistanis I've met seem eager to share their story and, in most instances, to share how they believe the American government and their own government have erred. This trip has been a peek into the looking glass (and I'm not talking about the band; there's no "brandy" here as we've already discussed).

The Pakistanis I've talked to find fault with much of what Americans have been told over the last six years. Many see the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan as assaults on Islam. Others say U.S. pressure on Pakistan to crack down on jihadists as only emboldened them. They say the Pakistani army has lost its will to fight extremist groups comprised of their own people and point to the recent capture of 300 soldiers by militants -- without a single shot being fired. And they talk of the need for democracy and their disappointment the U.S. props up the current unelected military man leading the country now.

Maybe it's a good thing they serve food. My brain needs the sustenance. One of the most enlightening conversations took place in the home of a Pakistani family from the tribal areas. (cookies, an unfortunate fruit cake, instant coffee black, no sugar).

A woman laughed and smiled her way through a wrenching narrative about why she has no hope Pakistan will ever get anything right. Then she told me about her recent visit to the United States to watch her son graduate from Harvard. She liked Boston very much (I'm from there, so I naturally found this news unsurprising), also loved Chicago and Las Vegas, but says she'll never return to the United States because she was treated like a terrorist at each airport. She said it made her angry but she forced herself to smile and laugh it off, determined to enjoy her trip to America.

By the way, most popular movie in the country right now is called, "In the Name of God." It's about two Pakistani brothers. One falls prey to extremists. The other makes it to America -- where he's unlawfully detained because of his name. The director said the movie is typical of what a young Muslim faces -- demonized by the radicals for western beliefs and appearance, demonized by the West because of their names.

I've just purchased shalwar kameez, the traditional dress here in Pakistan, for a trip to Peshawar. The shalwar is the pair of loose-fitting trousers and the kameez is the long pajama-like tunic. I'm not sure how to operate the pants. I believe there should be a drawstring included in the purchase. There is no drawstring. I'm confused. My first time to Peshawar and I will be improperly dressed. My mother would be appalled.

Peshawar is considered the gateway to the Khyber Pass that connects Pakistan's northern frontier to Afghanistan. It's the start of the tribal areas and home to the proud Pashtun people. It's also the city where Osama Bin Laden once roamed.

The United States insists it is conducting a robust pursuit for the 9/11 mastermind but we met a general from the Pakistani army who indicated there really is no active operation to look for him. We visited the Khyber tribal region and one look makes it clear the vast foothills of the Himalayas make excellent hiding spots.

Foreigners are not ordinarily allowed in these parts, and we needed special, armed, escorts. The tribal areas are not under the control of the Pakistani government. They're ruled by tribal law. The tribesman have become disaffected with the government and al Qaeda, it's believed, has been able to carve out a safe haven.

The tragic irony is that despite U.S. claims of a robust search effort, and $10 billion dollars of aid to Pakistan, and an aggressive search by American troops on the Afghan side of the border, all efforts so far may have only served to insulate and maybe even embolden bin Laden and al Qaeda.