KARACHI, Pakistan — On a moonlit Thursday night in February, a television network executive hosted an elegant affair for journalists and diplomats at his villa above the Arabian Sea.
Karachi's privileged dined on lamb, shrimp, chicken, mutton and fettuccine in mushroom sauce, and were surprised by a quartet of wandering minstrels, soulful Sufi poets who serenade for their supper, uncorking ballads about love.
On the south side of this city of 18 million, a group of Afghan refugees, who scrape out a living collecting cardboard and other recyclables in a slum straddling a swamp of open sewage, were mopping up gravy with roti – Pakistani bread.
About 900 Afghans live in this fetid slum, down the street from poor Pakistanis and water buffalo. They earn about $60 a month and survive on bottled water, chewing tobacco and roti.
"We're happy in Pakistan," said 33-year-old Shaezhad, leader of a cardboard collection station. "We get food and respect."
At the party across town, talk-show hosts and other Pakistani elites blew cigarette smoke into the faces of U.S. journalists, criticizing U.S. foreign policy and the toll the war in Afghanistan has taken on their country.
Many Pakistanis resent American aggression in the region and want more respect from U.S. policymakers, but they don't hold individual Americans responsible. Yet everywhere we went, we were held to answer for U.S. wars and Americans' deep misunderstanding of Pakistan.
"You are arrogant, playing video games with our lives," Abdul Moiz Jaferii, political analyst for CNBC Pakistan, said over lunch one day in Karachi. He was referring to U.S. drone attacks that have killed Pakistani and Afghan civilians.
"And we hate America because the U.S. has always been the biggest, closest ally of the military dictators. You have done nothing to help democracy."
The impact of the war in Afghanistan has permeated nearly every pore of this country of 180 million. More than 2 million Afghan refugees have fled to Pakistan, and some have brought a culture of violence. Since 9/11, 35,000 Pakistanis have been killed in terrorist attacks by suicide bombers and other war-related violence, according to Pakistan's intelligence agency. The victims include 6,000 soldiers and 29,000 civilians.
The unpredictable violence and the kidnapping of foreign workers have created a climate of fear in this country. We weren't allowed to visit villages outside urban areas, where 40 percent of Pakistanis live. Two shotgun-wielding security guards protected our buses in Islamabad, Lahore and Karachi. We entered our hotels through metal detectors and were rarely allowed to interact with average citizens in public places.
Pakistan – strategically located between Afghanistan, India, China and Iran and influenced by Saudi Arabia – remains an enigma to many Americans, who aren't sure whether it's friend or foe, democracy or military dictatorship.
Pakistan has provided critical support to NATO troops in the Afghan war – drones are launched from here, NATO supplies are sent through this country, and Pakistani troops have helped recapture terrorist strongholds along the volatile Afghan border.
But distrust of the United States in the wake of deadly drone attacks and the deaths of 24 Pakistani soldiers in a cross-border battle in November is such that rather than calling for more U.S. aid to build needed power plants, schools and hospitals, a growing number of Pakistanis want nothing to do with the United States. The government of Punjab – Pakistan's most powerful state with about 90 million people – has decided to reject U.S. aid.
The killing of Osama bin Laden by U.S. Navy SEALs in Abbottabad in the heart of this country embarrassed and angered the Pakistan military and made Americans question why bin Laden was allowed to live in essentially a resort town. Some U.S. politicians have called for an end to the $18 billion in financial aid pledged since 9/11.
An Islamic republic?
Some of the world's largest, most beautiful mosques are here, and to celebrate the Prophet Muhammad's birthday on Feb. 4, 10,000 people named Muhammad gathered in prayer in Karachi.
We saw few women wearing hijabs, or head coverings, except those at Islamabad's Faisal Mosque, which can hold 10,000 people for Juma, or Friday prayer.
Professional women drive cars, dress like their counterparts in U.S. cities and run government ministries, clinics and newsrooms. Women, who constitute 52 percent of the population, are increasingly getting advanced degrees. There's a Pakistani proverb: "Every girl who goes to university gets a husband."
Despite Islam's ban on liquor, at a party in Islamabad guests of both sexes repaired to a speakeasy in the basement to drink wine or Johnny Walker Black and smoke cigars.
Though most marriages are still arranged, as many as 20 percent are "love marriages," said Samina Parvez, director general of the government's external publicity agency. "The divorce rate is also increasing – it's about 10 or 15 percent," Parvez said. "The majority of us are not practicing Muslims."
Kamoran Sani, sales and marketing director for the Sheraton Hotel in Karachi, declared, "What you've heard about the Islamic Republic of Pakistan's a big farce. There are orgies, voyeurs' lounges, raves."
A diverse nation
Pakistan didn't become a nation until the British sliced India into Muslim and Hindu majority states in 1947. Pakistan – an Urdu acronym for Punjab, Afghania, Kashmir, Sindh province and Baluchistan ("stan" means nation) – varies wildly from region to region.
"There is no such thing as Pakistan," Jaferii said. "First comes your family, then your clan, third your region, fourth your province – the nation comes a distant fifth."
Much of rural Pakistan is a feudal society dating back to the 13th century. Mullahs, or religious leaders, still invoke blasphemy laws exacting punishment against those accused of insulting Islam. Last year, the governor of Punjab was killed by his bodyguard for criticizing the law as he sought a pardon for a Christian woman sentenced to death.
But Pakistan has tremendous religious and ethnic diversity. Muslims include Sunnis, Shiites, Ismaelis, Ahmadis and Sufis – each practicing their own brand of Islam. At Lahore University of Management Sciences, I chatted with Muslims, Hindus and Christians who were all friends.
From the Sufi love poems to Pashtun folk songs about social justice, music plays a key role in Pakistani identity.
In the center of Karachi there's a Catholic church – St. Patrick's Cathedral, built by the Jesuits in 1931. There's a Jewish cemetery. Sikhs worship throughout Pakistan. The ancient city of Taxila was occupied by Alexander the Great and reflects Persian, Moghul, Buddhist and Christian traditions.
Sixty percent of Pakistan's population is under age 30; half is under age 20. Half the kids haven't been to school, and fifth-grade students are reading at a second-grade level, said Nadeem ul-Haq, deputy chairman of the government's planning commission.
"We have 2 million kids a year entering the labor force. What are these kids going to do?" ul-Haq said. There is no building boom to provide jobs, and foreign investments have been scared away by terrorism.
"Entrepreneurship is the key thing we need to focus on," he said. "Overseas Pakistanis have been very entrepreneurial, sending back $13 billion a year to their poorer relatives."
From 7-Elevens to Silicon Valley firms and venture capital funds, ex-pat Pakistanis are thriving in the United States. The 500,000 Pakistanis in the United States, including 100,000 in California, send $100 million a year to charities in Pakistan, said Ahson Rabbani, CEO of I-Care, which connects donors with 30 nonprofits.
In Northern California, Pakistanis raised more than $100,000 for Pakistani flood relief efforts spearheaded by cricket star Imran Khan, who may lead the country if his party wins the next election. Khan has gained credibility by building a cancer hospital for the poor in honor of his late mother. His party includes a women's wing that has direct access to him.
Philanthropy is playing a growing role in Pakistan, financing schools in poor villages and slums. The Citizens Foundation is educating 100,000 students.
"I mentored six girls," said Karachi journalist Samia Saleem. "One was 13 and said she didn't want to get married – she wants to be a teacher."
Ali Shah Haider, 17, wants to be a commercial pilot. "I sleep from 2 p.m. until 4:30 p.m., then go to work at the textile factory from 8 p.m. to 5 a.m. to support my family – there are 12 of us. I do my homework between shifts."
A nation's dreams
Though life seems cheap in Pakistan, the people are upbeat survivors who often describe life as bo hat acha, which means "great!" in Urdu, their main language.
Last year 1,575 people were killed in Karachi, where 2 million weapons are in circulation, said Francisco Quinones of Arcis International Security. A doctor was killed in Karachi the day before we landed. Violence has been blamed on the Taliban, rival political gangs, Sunni and Shia militants, rogue security forces, and Afghan refugees.
Some refugees have been recruited by the Taliban. Others like Shaezhad, who collects recyclables in the slums of Karachi, are glad to be alive under the green and white crescent flag of this country.
Still, he wants to go home to Afghanistan. "We want our land back, we want to live with respect and we want employment."
Azhar Abbas, the managing director of Geo TV news who hosted the party in Karachi, said that "democracy is taking hold" in his Pakistan despite the violence many here believe followed the U.S. war on terror.
The business editor of daily newspaper the News, Amir Zia, said the United States can still play a positive role in Pakistan. "If Americans pull out without getting the job done, the Islamic extremists will say it's a victory and will become much more organized."
But at the National Defense University, business and technology expert Bilal Munshi called Pakistan "a psychologically scarred nation suffering from a mass form of PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder)."
If the 4 million young people entering the workforce each year get jobs, "we will be a power but if they don't see a future they're going to pick up the gun, and you're going to be in real trouble."
The U.S. can help develop Pakistani schools, Bilal said, "but don't interfere in our internal affairs – let us do things our way."