What's a banana republic? A state without a spine of its own, dependent on foreign capital, subject to foreign influence and politically unstable. A state where, typically, the predominant influence is that of the United States.

This term originated from the Caribbean where small island states grew bananas, robbed and oppressed their people and listened carefully to the American ambassador. To the present set-up in Pakistan belongs the credit of transporting the concept from afar and giving it a wholly new, South Asian meaning.

For all the brave talk of turning Pakistan into a modern state, Pakistan, because of the role it has performed since September 11, is fast acquiring the characteristics of a state in which the ghosts of Trujillo and the other legendary Central American dictators would feel at home.

American planes and helicopters fly from Pakistan airbases in Sindh and Balochistan. Parts of Karachi airport have been handed over to 'coalition' forces for carrying men and materiel to Afghanistan. Pakistani troops are strung along the Pak-Afghan border to help catch fleeing Al Qaida fighters and hand them over to the Americans without any questions asked. The hapless Zaeef, the Taliban's former ambassador in Islamabad, was handed over to the US military even though, misguided soul, he had asked for political asylum in Pakistan.

When Gen Tommy Franks, the Centcom commander, visits Islamabad the fawning attention he gets from his hosts is a treat to watch on television. Pakistan's military chiefs hang on his every word, smiling effusively as he makes his points. The US ambassador here gets the kind of press reserved for royalty or screen personalities in other countries.

In the extended exercise in arrogance which was President Bush's State-of-the-Union address to the US Congress, only two foreign leaders came in for mention and praise: Hamid Karzai of Afghanistan and General Pervez Musharraf of Pakistan. In a different era, say in the 1950s and '60s when the fires of national liberation burnt bright, such American endorsement would have been seen as a kiss of death, a confirmation of the client status of the leader concerned. In today's climate hands are no doubt being rubbed in glee at such a testimonial.

Pakistan's singular achievement since being press-ganged into service for the American assault on Afghanistan is to turn ingratiating behaviour into an art form. Even the US could be forgiven for feeling slightly bemused. It is used to willing behaviour. But willingness stretched beyond the limits of loyalty?

And consider the region in which this parade of loyalty is taking place. India does not speak with a client-tongue to the US. Iran is on the list of America's enemies. Bush in his Union address has said no less. Even Saudi Arabia, the most loyal of allies, is getting restive under America's shadow, chafing at the double standards the US applies across the Middle East: one thing for Israel, another for the Arab states. Along this arc of restiveness Pakistan stands out for its readiness to accede, at whatever price, to American wishes.

With our 'jihadi' policies we were at one extreme. Averse to any half-way house, we have now swung completely in the other direction.

What is the justification being given for this dramatic shift from super-truculence to super-loyalty? That we are leaving the past behind and entering the modern world. Since we never spare Jinnah even in our most audacious ideological leaps, his figure is again being invoked: that it is to his vision of modernism that Pakistan is returning. No one is asking whether we needed the US, and on its heels India, to kick us in the right direction.

In its 'jihadi' mode the military enjoyed the hosannas of the religious parties who were all for 'jihad' east and west. In its modern, post-Jinnah phase the military's praises, for its smart turnaround, are being sung by the English-speaking classes. Whatever else may be lacking in Pakistan, the spirit of collaboration is not. Nor the spirit of gullibility. The military still at centre-stage, only its Greek chorus replaced, the battalions of so-called liberalism taking the place of the discomfited mullas. The irony is delicious but lost on Pakistan's English-speaking literati.

What has Pakistan received for its pains? General Musharraf finds himself a strengthened figure, his former isolation transmuted into international approval, his Afghan and Kashmir clothes cast aside for the robes of statesmanship. Forget Bush's endorsement. In recent days one English language columnist at home has said that being with him was being in "the presence of greatness" (the Nation). Another, that behind his calm demeanour lay an iron resolve and a penetrating mind (the News).

This new mood in Pakistan has rubbed off on other things. On Jan 30 in the main TV news I heard Pakistan's first lady being referred to as Begum Sahiba Musharraf. My initial astonishment turned to admiration at Pakistan Television's winning ways. But what's the national advantage been? First and foremost, Pakistan's handout economy has been rescued, fresh credit coming in and old loans being extended. While no doubt a triumph in the short-term, how does it lead to economic robustness in the future? When was the last time a hand-out economy prospered or laid the foundations of long-term growth?

For real growth the key precondition is not capital but the work ethic. Also, a rational allocation of resources. A handout economy is no encourager of hard work while huge spending on defence and debt servicing hardly qualifies as rational. So, despite the bailout, the basics of Pakistan's economic predicament remain the same.

Second comes the putative shift to modernism. How does this make any sense when the military refuses to let democracy grow? Modernism is not simply about restricting the space around the mosque and the pulpit. It is more about participatory democracy. Except Iran where the ayatollahs hold sway, no Muslim country, from Morocco to Indonesia, is ruled by a priesthood. All have temporal or secular rulers. So if we are finally getting rid of our mulla aberration, and exorcising the religious ghosts of the earlier Afghan war (of the 1980s), we are getting rid of a frenzy, not breaking revolutionary ground.

The problem with our polity is not the dominance of the mulla - who has always been a creature of one thing or the other - but the dark shadows of military rule. Unless the man in khaki returns to his rightful place, and allows the rest of the nation space to breathe - and unless, let it also be said, the political class improves its hitherto depressing performance - we'll be no closer to Jinnah's vision now than under General Zia 20 years ago.

In any event, having mocked so many other things, let's not turn Jinnah into a joke and cite him as an example only when it suits our convenience. If he was against clericalism and a priesthood of the sanctimonious, was he in favour of the suppression of democracy which has been Pakistan's favourite pastime since the country's birth? Jinnah denounced clericalism because in his mind that represented a danger for the new state. He never spoke out against dictatorship because the thought never crossed his mind that in the country he was creating democracy would ever wear a widow's weeds.

Imagine Jinnah saying that he would be president for five years, as General Musharraf has, regardless of any election. Imagine Jinnah countenancing the shenanigans of the National Reconstruction Bureau. Reconstructed so many times at the hands of the military, the nation has had enough of reconstruction. It is the military mind which needs changing but for that who'll set up the appropriate bureau?