the_taliban_shuffle_-_kim_barker

nally told me, referring to Sharif by his honorary title. “Maybe twenty
at the most.”
I ew into Lahore on a Friday morning, and we drove for an hour
toward the town of Raiwind and Sharif’s palatial home and palatial
grounds. The closer we got, the more Sharif. The place may as well
have been called Nawaz Land, given the amusement-park feel and the
fact that his name and picture were on everything, from the hospital to
giant billboards. Everywhere I looked, Sharif—amiable, slightly pudgy,
topped with hair plugs—stared at me like the Cheshire cat. Guards
checked me at the gate, searching my bag meticulously. The grounds of
Raiwind resembled a cross between a golf course and a zoo, with
several football elds of manicured grass and wild animals in cages,
leading up to a miniature palace that looked slightly like a wedding
cake, with dierent layers and trim that resembled frosting. The
driveway was big enough for a limousine to execute a U-turn. I walked
inside and was told to wait. The inside of the house appeared to have
been designed by Saudi Arabia—a hodge-podge of crystal chandeliers,
silk curtains, gold accents, marble. A verse of the Holy Quran and a
carpet with the ninety-nine names of God hung on the walls of Sharif’s
receiving room, along with photographs of Sharif with King Abdullah
and slain former Lebanese prime minister Rak Hariri. Finally I was
summoned.
“Kim,” Sharif’s media handler said, gesturing toward the ground.
“Come.”
I hopped up and walked toward the living room, past two raggedy
stued lions with rose petals near their feet. So maybe Sharif was the
lion of Punjab. Inside the room, Sharif stood up, wearing a nely
pressed salwar kameez, a navy vest, and a natty scarf. He shook my
hand and oered me a seat in an ornate chair. The sitting room was a
study in pink, rose, and gold, with golden curlicues on various lighting
xtures and couches, and crystal vases everywhere. Many of the
knickknacks were gifts from world leaders. His press aide tapped his
watch, looked at me, and raised his eyebrows. I got the message and
proceeded with my questions, as fast as I could. But it soon became
clear that this would be unlike any interview I had ever done.
“You’re the only senior opposition leader left in Pakistan. How are
you going to stay safe while campaigning?”