SHAPIRO: Declan Walsh's new book is "The Nine Lives Of Pakistan: Dispatches From A Precarious State." Thank you for talking with us about it. At first glance, Pakistan seems to be filled with stark contradictions. An observant Muslim may say his or her prayers then guzzle whiskey after dinner; even socially liberally people might hide important details about their lives from their own families. Westerners often take these contradictions for hypocrisies. But after a while, I started to see them through the lens of public and private spheres that allow a kind of tolerance. In Pakistan, and perhaps South Asia more generally, many people enjoy greater freedoms and more permissive lives than outward appearances suggest. Their neighbors or parents or village mullah may well be aware of this – the important thing is not to rub it in everyone’s face. This isn’t always a force for good, and it can certainly retard social progress, but it’s not all bad either. WALSH: Oh, there were so many things. You know, one of the most extraordinary things about being a reporter in Pakistan is the sort of access that you get to people across society. This - here was this country where ministers would, you know, return my phone calls, even late at night and personally. But more than that, when I went out traveling around and turned up in any random village, people really wanted to speak. They wanted - not only were they generous with their hospitality and welcoming in but they wanted you to step into their lives. And they wanted to at least give their point of view or even more.

I find “valiant” dispatches by foreign correspondents, who visit Pakistan while wearing bulletproof vests and staying at five-star hotels, unwittingly amusing. Pakistani author Mohammed Hanif made a pertinent point about writing on Pakistan from the standpoint of a foreigner. “If you spend enough time with Pakistan’s military and civilian elite, you catch some of their paranoia, and start seeing yourself drowning in rivers of blood.” Hence, while reading this account, I found myself surgically dissecting the text for any hint of confirmation bias or preconceived notions. Walsh found Pakistan perplexing and fascinating: crowded with places of unmatched natural beauty, inhabited by people with whom he formed deep friendships and yet pierced with danger. Navigating through the labyrinth, he came across various faultiness in Pakistan’s body politic: faith and identity, praetorianism and the oversized role of intelligence agencies, underdevelopment and ethnic nationalism, corruption and tax evasion culture, a self-serving and hypocritical elite which flouts law, violence fueled by religious extremism, and unscrupulous and compromised political parties, mostly dynastic and dependent upon state patronage. Walsh spent nearly a decade living in and covering Pakistan, first for The Guardian, then for The Times. His tenure coincided with some of the country’s most turbulent modern years: fraught elections, assassinations and military rule; a war next door and within; and a tenuous alliance with the United States fraying to the breaking point, particularly after American Special Forces found Osama bin Laden hiding inside Pakistan, and killed him. WALSH: Well, it was this - you know, it was a mystery. When I was being expelled, I remember sitting in a hotel in Lahore. The intelligence service had posted people outside my door to make sure I didn't leave until I was driven to the airport later that night. And even though it was this moment of democratic flourishing for Pakistan - they just had an election. The vote had gone fairly smoothly. The results were coming in. People were hailing this as a milestone for the country. I realized that despite all of that, at the end of the day in Pakistan, the military and its intelligence services - on certain issues, at least - ultimately call the shots. And no matter who I tried to get to help me, no matter what position they occupied in the country, how senior they were, what sort of influence they had, they were unable to reverse that decision. And for me, that was a very striking moment. It really taught me a lot about how the country really works.If you live in Pakistan, the relentless onslaught of turbulent events and ensuing incessant high drama leaves one with a permanent case of deja vu The scale of the struggle for women’s rights is encapsulated by Asma Jahangir, a crusading lawyer whose first client – an eloping lover – is murdered in Jahangir’s office by her own mother. (In “our folklore… the man who stops two lovers from meeting is evil,” yet in real life they “may be killed”, Jahangir wonders in sorrow.) Through Abdul Rashid Ghazi, a preacher whose company Walsh “enjoyed, jihad puffery aside”, you learn of the rise of the Pakistani Taliban. In a chapter entitled “The Good Muslim”, Walsh contrasts the life of the senator Salmaan Tasser, a “hard-charging, money-grubbing sinner”, with the bodyguard who assassinated him for trying to save minorities who had been sentenced to death on dodgy blasphemy laws. He then presents his ruminations on some of the touchiest subjects in Pakistan; from the military’s involvement in politics and the intelligence agencies’ activities to the delicate religious fault lines that are ever-present yet often obscured. Among the many themes discussed, he dissects the Red Mosque seizure, gives accounts of tribal leaders and their ways of war and life, and the many unconventional stories of Pakistanis he stumbled upon during his time here.

If you live in Pakistan, the relentless onslaught of turbulent events and ensuing incessant high drama leaves one with a permanent case of deja vu. In this vein, Walsh had the gruelling task of culling anecdotes from these events that took place in 2010 within one month. The most enlightening and engrossing chapter in the book is about Nawab Akbar Bugti, shedding insightful light on his complex personality, his tragic death and the situation in Balochistan. The write-up on Asma Jahangir brings out her inspirational and irrepressible personality in a very candid and convincing manner. Despite difficult relationships of their fathers in the past, there was a deep bond between Benazir Bhutto and Asma Jahangir - two female icons of Pakistan - which has been explained in detail. Jinnah’s profile exposes many myths peddled through official narrative about him and deserves to be read widely. Declan Walsh begins his captivating new book on Pakistan with an account of how he came to leave the country for the first time, abruptly and involuntarily in May 2013. “The angels came to spirit me away,” is the way he puts it, using the Urdu slang for the all-powerful men of the Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI), whose presence is felt, even when not seen, throughout The Nine Lives of Pakistan. A highlight for me was the profile of Chaudary Aslam Khan, notorious as Karachi’s toughest cop. In a career spanning almost three decades, Khan targeted the dark underbelly of the “brooding megalopolis” dominated by crime lords and undercover spies. Having survived eight assassination attempts, he used to joke that one day his trademark white shalwar kameez would become his funeral shroud. This prophecy came true in 2014 when he was killed in a bomb targeting his convoy.

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Blending journalism, history and travelogue, Walsh, who has covered Pakistan for over a decade for The Guardian and The New York Times, has penned a riveting account of the tumultuous but memorable time he spent in Pakistan, ending in his dramatic expulsion on the election day in 2013 on the basis of “undesirable activities.” Walsh is an accomplished story-teller who keeps the reader spellbound with well-crafted pen-portraits and fast-paced narrative, embellished with interesting anecdotes and pithy judgments. Although mostly anecdotal, the book offers a potted history of the country and its historical figures. PDF / EPUB File Name: The_Nine_Lives_of_Pakistan_-_Declan_WALSH.pdf, The_Nine_Lives_of_Pakistan_-_Declan_WALSH.epub