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Mark Steyn: Sticky wicket of creeping sharia By MARK STEYN

The other day Pakistan's Gen. Musharraf took time off from his hectic
schedule of trying to survive assassination attempts to pay tribute to
someone who, alas, had been less successful at dodging killers: A week ago,
during the cricket World Cup, Bob Woolmer, the coach of the Pakistani
national cricket team, was murdered in the Pegasus Hotel in Kingston,
Jamaica, in what Scotland Yard's lead investigator called "extraordinary and
evil circumstances." 

"This nation will always remember him for the joys he brought into the lives
of millions of Pakistanis," said Gen. Musharraf, awarding Woolmer
posthumously the Star of Excellence. "The cricketing world and Pakistan, in
particular, will find it extremely difficult to fill the void Bob's death
has left behind."

Unless you're one of America's many cricket fans - pause for sound of
crickets chirping - you probably didn't even notice this news. When Anna
Nicole meets an untimely end in the Caribbean, there's 24/7 coverage. But in
Pakistan, the West Indies, Britain and many other places, Bob Woolmer's
death is Anna Nicole multiplied a gazillionfold. I was talking to a
prominent London journalist in Chicago the other day when his cell phone
rang, and he was told to hop on a plane to Kingston and get cracking on the
murder.

"Whodunnit?" I asked.

"Russian Mafia," he said, already halfway down the corridor.

"Russian Mafia?" I echoed in disbelief. "That's not cricket."

But apparently it is. Whether or not any actual Russians are involved,
rumors of a "match-fixing mafia" are running rampant around Jamaica. Just
before the coach's murder, the Pakistani cricket team had lost to Ireland,
which is a bit like the New York Yankees losing to my grandma. 

Anyway, I thought of this strange death as I followed the rest of the week's
news from Pakistan. Gen. Musharraf has had a good innings but stands at an
ever lonelier wicket: He suspended the chief justice the other day; the
biggest parliamentary faction, the Muslim League, has turned against him; so
have the country's three warring intelligence agencies; and in the badlands
up by the Afghan border more and more villages are being annexed by the
Taliban, which the general doesn't mind terribly much but his friends in the
White House do. In the Washington Post, Ahmed Rashid called for the
general's retirement and "free and fair elections," which sounds very nice
but would deliver Islam's only fully functioning nuclear state into the same
kind of weak and corrupt administration as Musharraf's predecessor and be
followed by the inevitable coup, or worse.

If you had to draw one of those organizational charts of the world's
problems, Pakistan would be at the center of them. We speak of the
northwestern tribal lands as some of the most remote places on Earth. But,
in fact, when they wanted to, the Saudis had no problem getting to them,
spreading a ton of walking-around money, and utterly transforming those
villages. From the North-West Frontier Province, the Saudi money and
Wahhabist ideology seeped through the country, into the mosques of the
cities, radicalizing a generation of young Muslim men. From there it moved
on to new outposts of the jihad, to Indonesia, Thailand and beyond. The
flight routes from Pakistan to the United Kingdom are now the most important
ideological conduit for radical Islam. The London bombers last summer were
British subjects of Pakistani origin. Last week, two more were arrested in
connection with the Tube bombings at Manchester Airport as they prepared to
board a plane to Karachi.

Meanwhile, flying back from Karachi and Islamabad to Heathrow and Manchester
are cousins, lots and lots of them. In his detailed study of the Mirpur
district in Pakistan, Roger Ballard estimates that at least half and maybe
up to two-thirds of those living in Britain of Mirpuri descent marry first
cousins. This is a critical tool of reverse-assimilation: instead of being
diluted over the generations, tribal identity is reinforced; in effect,
Pakistani tribal lands are now being established in parts of northern
England.

Which brings us back to the cricket World Cup, and a freakish murder after a
bizarre Ireland victory and stories about a "match-fixing mafia." The
civilized world sometimes forgets how thin the veneer of that civilization
is: Many venerable, respectable institutions can be hollowed out from within
by predators and opportunists. Outwardly, nothing much has changed. But
underneath all kinds of other forces are at play, and, by the time you
notice, it requires enormous will to reverse it.

Pakistan was never the most placid and stable polity but it's now riddled
from top to toe, its worst pathologies amplified by Arab cash and ideology
and the nuclear equivalent of a desktop-publishing boom: mysterious
Sino-Pakistani technological transfers have recently been noticed through
Kashmir.

Pakistan exports the fruit of its radical madrassahs in ideology and
personnel to Britain and beyond. The mother country, like an elderly
spinster, doesn't like to think ill of those nice young men in Manchester
and Leeds and Oldham. We're all inclined to be deferential to
multiculturalism these days: When imams get tossed off a flight in
Minneapolis, it's easiest to tut-tut and demand sensitivity training for the
cabin crew. The Quebec government, which mandates verifiable picture ID in
order to vote, has just waived the requirement for Muslims: show up at the
polls in a burqa or niqab and no one will be so insensitive as to insist on
checking whether your face matches that on the driver's license.

And so it goes - creeping sharia, day by day, further insulating communities
already prone to self-segregation, but nothing too big or startling to
ruffle the scene. In Britain, the authorities can tell you (roughly) the
number of jihadist cells and the support they command in the Muslim
community. But doing anything about it is far more problematic. Wouldn't be
cricket, old boy.



 


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