Pakistan's politics has evolved its own law - the law of diminishing U-turns. Each U-turn leaves less space to manoeuvre, and we may soon be boxed in for all the readiness to dance. Our first U-turn was on Afghanistan; the second on handling core issues with India; and the third is on our nuclear scientists. Yesterday's heroes may be today's rogues.
Each of these U-turns has had its effects - overt, external ones relating to acceptability and commendation from the international community and the sole superpower that required them; and other effects that are experienced internally within the country.
For it is not what citizens think and feel that moulds the state's policies and alignments. These are set in reference to an 'objective' national interest, determined by a military dictatorship that has been there long enough to have gestated a civil regime as proxy spokesman.
Few Pakistanis seriously believe they are travelling down the road to democracy, but it is a fiction real powers find convenient to proclaim to real public opinion outside the proxy state. By definition, public opinion does not matter in a proxy state - unless it erupts.
If public opinion were to erupt in Pakistan, what would it proclaim? And how would any upheaval in Pakistan affect the 'global alliance' waging its war on terror? The questions originate in the unknown and are fraught with uncertainty. That is the disconcerting atmosphere in which Pakistanis live. Projections of stability and economic regeneration are mere transparencies that blur outside corporate boardrooms and official circles.
The U-turn on the Taliban had strong political endorsement from parties that had always wanted a reorientation of Pakistan's policy in that context. Yet, it is undeniable that generally there was a sense of guilt and self-dislike at being party to the infliction of a horrible and extensive punishment on the Afghan people, ineffectually sanitized through the term 'collateral damage'.
Afghanistan is no stranger to fratricidal conflict, and to ethnically and religiously-linked onlookers on either side of the Durand line, the distinction between intrusive Soviet troops and invasive coalition forces playing a role in regime change or regime support was media-made.
Pakistanis accepted General Musharraf's argument that the government had no choice. An elected civil government would have been approached less offhandedly, and its popular anchors better respected. American martial intent in Afghanistan was once again a bonanza for a Pakistani dictator.
Pakistan's freedom-respecting citizens (neither Anglophobe nor anglophile) are still questioning the contradictions and dualism in the Bush-Blair applications of humanitarian and democratic values and perspectives on terrorism.
As regards the U-turn vis-a-vis India, it is of course true that the COAS is best fitted to re-orientate army bellicosity. Hitherto the armed forces (which derived much of their political stature and budgetary chunks through public perception of the Indian threat) consistently inhibited and aborted civil attempts at an India-Pakistan rapprochement.
Benazir Bhutto was branded a security threat, and Vajpayee's bus-ride to Nawaz Sharif in Lahore ran into Kargil. But, lying somewhere between the civil and military hawks is the mass of the common people. They do not hate India, but they do not trust it.
If policy re-orientation is to filter through the ranks and masses of the Pakistani people, it has to have a genuine civil political plank. The undoubtedly genuine civil political plank provided by the PML-Q and the PPP Patriots is to the COAS as president and nothing else. Yet, the former mainstream parties with their federally popular leadership are encouraged to atrophy. The roles of the clerically-led MMA and the tangential MQM in reworking an India-Pakistan equation are turbid for varied reasons to external and internal observers alike.
Internationally, Pakistan's being a proxy military dictatorship means that the rules of engagement favour the other side. Whereas Mr Vajpayee's government is understood as being answerable to the Indian electorate, Pakistan's people are quite rightly answerable to the government. They do not know what is affected in Kashmir, and why or how.
Indians know that the APHC has spoken with their government and still needs its permission to come and go from its home in Kashmir. Indians know that cross- border terrorism as defined by them has been shown the red light. Pakistanis know that at any time their country can be falsely accused of having violated this stop sign. India and President Bush are judge and jury. Pakistan remains on trial. What more may its government have to do to retain its credentials?
In a third U-turn, the cream of Pakistan's nuclear- scientist cadre has come under the investigative pressure of its own government. Whether Dr A.Q. Khan and his team ever deserved near deification is not the issue. The point is, who will buy the argument that they enjoyed the freedom of action imputed to them and misused it unbeknownst, all this while? All along they have been under the wing of the continuum of Pakistan's ruling military establishment. If naughty scientists were able to pull the wool over watchful eyes, one questions the watch.
Institutionally, the army has never publicly questioned the wisdom of having taken its nuclear potential out of the closet. This nuclear parity with India has always been extremely popular, and public adulation of the men who made it possible has been more than official policy. It is a national reality. Can officialdom, comfortably reconstituted within the National Security Council, dissociate itself from the suddenly-detected reprehensible actions of nuclear heroes without simply seeming to be renouncing its former commitments?
No one seeks to ask the obvious question: why should a Pakistan fundamentalist even wish to surrender a monopoly? There are rogues aplenty outside the KRL and Pakistan, but Pakistan first? What could be coming next under the rubric of national interest?