Ban: to what end?

IN April I was living in Islamabad, in a leafy neighbourhood I had moved to after a few months cooped up in the Red Zone. The talks were on and the city was full of foreign correspondents. We passed a coffee shop on our way out of town and half the café was press. What I remember is how much everybody loved Islamabad. On camera and off it. The hills, the food, the hospitality. Testimonials. The state was delighted, and none of it required a form. It is August now. Those same correspondents canno...