Les Pakistanais, de grands enfants

Quand l’homme blanc écoute la complainte de l’indigène, y compris avec une certaine sympathie (« The Pakistanis Have a Point« ), c’est pour s’entendre confirmer ce dont il se doutait déjà:

As an American visitor in the power precincts of Pakistan, from the gated enclaves of Islamabad to the manicured lawns of the military garrison in Peshawar, from the luxury fortress of the Serena Hotel to the exclusive apartments of the parliamentary housing blocks, you can expect three time-honored traditions: black tea with milk, obsequious servants and a profound sense of grievance.

Talk to Pakistani politicians, scholars, generals, businessmen, spies and journalists — as I did in October — and before long, you are beyond the realm of politics and diplomacy and into the realm of hurt feelings. Words like “ditch” and “jilt” and “betray” recur. With Americans, they complain, it’s never a commitment, it’s always a transaction. This theme is played to the hilt, for effect, but it is also heartfelt.

The thing about us,” a Pakistani official told me, “is that we are half emotional and half irrational.”

CQFD – nul doute que si l’armée pakistanaise tuait 24 soldats étatsuniens lors d’un bombardement au Nouveau-Mexique le gouvernement étatsunien réagirait avec le rationalisme cartésien qu’on lui connaît.

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