ISLAMABAD, Pakistan — So, what is happening with the Pakistan Taliban?

From where I stand, there is a curious pattern to recent events.

Let's connect the dots: a few weeks ago, a new Taliban code of conduct emerged ordering more discipline and less brutality, especially against local civilians.

Reports immediately surfaced within Pakistan that some hard-line militants were rejecting the new code, preferring to continue a campaign of terror that includes beheading people and publicly displaying the bodies.

Then – late last month – I made contact with a senior Taliban leader who had fought on the frontlines in Afghanistan and helped lead a bloody uprising at Islamabad's Red Mosque in 2007.

I was expecting the usual anti-American diatribe and I got that; but I got something else - a surprising denunciation of other Pakistani Taliban.

He labeled them 'not real Taliban' and said they had no future. He said his allegiance was to the Afghan Taliban leader, Mullah Omar, and the real fight was against coalition forces in Afghanistan, not Pakistan's military.

He also surprisingly mentioned the leader of the Pakistani Taliban, Baitullah Mehsud, rejecting his authority and saying he had no contact with him.

Just a few days ago, Mehsud was reported to have been killed in a U.S drone strike, though his death has not been confirmed.

Now there are reports from Pakistani officials of a shoot-out among Taliban rivals during a meeting to choose a successor to Mehsud, leaving one senior commander dead. The Taliban have denied the reports.

All of this takes place amid a Pakistan military offensive against the Taliban, a U.S. military surge in Afghanistan and an upcoming Afghan election. At the same time, the international community is talking of negotiating with so-called 'good Taliban.'

The Taliban in Pakistan and Afghanistan continue to reject the possibility of negotiations. That at least is the public face; but in Pakistan there is the new code of conduct, an increasingly effective campaign of missile attacks by the United States, Taliban turning on Taliban and –- probably - the deaths of senior militants. It may be the militants themselves are trying to define just who are the 'good Taliban.'

ISLAMABAD, Pakistan - The car in front of me is carrying a man at the heart of the Taliban uprising in Pakistan.

This has been a carefully orchestrated rendezvous: Secrecy is everything.

We arranged for our cars to pass at a designated spot at a turnoff on the outskirts of Pakistan's capital, Islamabad.

We slow down, and the other car positions in front of us.

We are led down a narrow alleyway and into a non-descript house for a face-to-face interview.

This has all been patiently organized by our intermediary, a man known to the militant and trusted by us.

But there are always nagging concerns. Some in our car are a little nervous, and that is perfectly understandable, but I am comfortable we have taken every safeguard.

The man I finally meet is tall, probably in his mid-to-late 30's with a heavy black beard. He is wearing a white shawal kameez (traditional Pakistani dress), and he ties a white turban around his head.

He is wanted by Pakistani police for terrorism.

This is a man who has fought on the front lines both in Pakistan and Afghanistan. He was a leader of the Red Mosque in Islamabad, the scene of a siege by Pakistan military in 2007 which left more than 100 people dead.

We can't film his face, and we can't identify him. He tells us we can refer to him only as “Mullah Wajid.”

As we begin the interview, at first he won't meet my eye. When we shake hands he looks slightly away.

My cameraman can only film him from behind, and he won't allow us even to film his hands.

Two men stand behind our camera watching every shot. When the interview is over they command us to stop filming immediately.

But the interview itself is a surprise. Interviews with Taliban are rare. To have the chance to put questions directly to a man so heavily involved in the insurgency shines a light into a world often closed from us.

I expect the usual anti-America diatribe, and there is. He says the U.S and coalition forces must leave Afghanistan, and he wants a return to Taliban rule there.

He also criticizes some in Pakistan for being pro-U.S and implementing U.S. foreign policy.

What I wasn't expecting was his denunciation of other Taliban.

He says some in Pakistan have gone too far and are inflicting suffering on ordinary civilians. He says the supreme Taliban leader, Mullah Omar, has rejected these militants and says they are not “real Taliban.”

This is a twist, and it comes after the release of a new Taliban code of conduct. The code says civilian suffering and casualties are to be avoided, urging Taliban to go after “high value” targets like coalition troops and government officials.

The Taliban is bogged down in heavy fighting both in Pakistan and Afghanistan. Like any insurgency, if it loses the people, it loses the war.

And now the U.S. and others are seeking out what they call “good Taliban:” moderate militants they can negotiate with.

The Taliban leadership wants to cleanse itself of the rogue elements. It wants to present a disciplined, cohesive force that can't easily be divided and conquered.

“Mullah Wajid” may be rejecting some hard-liners, but he hasn't gone soft. He wants nothing less than the U.S. out of all Muslim land.

I ask him if he is prepared to kill and die for his beliefs.

"Yes. Inshallah (God willing).”

In that he is not so different from other Taliban after all.

ISLAMABAD, Pakistan – The Taliban is on a public relations drive. The militants fighting on fronts from Afghanistan to Pakistan fear they are losing the propaganda war among their own people. So, the leadership is doing something about it, releasing a new "code of conduct" for fighters in the field.

This is a how-to guide as to what is acceptable and what is not. For instance: "A brave son of Islam should not be used for lower and useless targets." What does this mean? Crudely, kill soldiers and other "high value" targets and avoid civilian casualties.

There is to be a reduction in suicide bombings, again to avoid killing civilians; Taliban fighters are not allowed to discriminate against people based on tribal roots, language or where people are from.

This code also reinforces a strict hierarchy: only provincial commanders can agree to prisoner exchanges and prisoners must not be released or exchanged for money.

Only Taliban supreme leader Mullah Omar, or one of his deputies, can give the order to execute NATO soldiers, senior Afghan army officers or government officials.

And so it goes on. You get the meaning. This code of conduct is to show that the Taliban is a disciplined force, instead of a brutal force, one fighting for the people.

This isn't new of course: the Taliban has issued similar codes in the past. What is interesting is that this new one is being issued at this time.

Now, most of this is aimed at Afghanistan - but it applies equally to Taliban in Pakistan. Indeed the booklet was produced and released from Pakistan.

Personally, I have heard from people who have turned away from the Taliban. Locals who may have had sympathies with the militants have grown tired of the reign of terror and violence.

Look at Pakistan's Swat Valley: I have seen the images of beheaded bodies being displayed in the town square, of women publicly beaten. Hardly behavior that meets this code of conduct.

The lesson of insurgencies the world over is: "If you don't win the people you don't win the war."

But already there are reports surfacing that some "hardliners" in the Taliban want to continue doing business as usual, rejecting the code.

Now, here's another interesting point: this code comes as Afghanistan heads to a new presidential election in August and the U.S and others begin to reach out to the so-called "good Taliban" - the militants they can work with.

Undoubtedly there are more moderate elements among the insurgency, there are some who have split from the Taliban.

But this is an intricate network of tribes, kinship and shared allegiances, motivated as much by money and revenge as often as ideology. Where is the "code" for separating the "good" from the "bad" Taliban?

OUTSIDE PESHAWAR, Pakistan – General Nadeem Ahmad is about to make a stunning and frightening admission. In a crowded relief camp outside Peshawar in Pakistan’s northwest, he admits he may well be handing over money to Taliban fighters posing as refugees.

General Nadeem is coordinating relief funds, with 4 billion rupees (about $500 million) being handed out so far.

People queue for hours to have their identities checked and receive their money. It is a painstaking and cautious process - but not foolproof.

It is certain that some of those receiving the money are militants, ready to return home and wreak havoc.

This is the complex problem facing General Nadeem and others fighting an enemy they often cannot see.

He is the man in charge of resettling the almost three million Pakistanis who have fled the fighting between the army and the Taliban.

It has been an extraordinary effort: tent cities appearing overnight, and providing food, water, shelter and medical treatment for the young and old, men and women.

These people are refugees in their own country, victims of a war they did not start and mostly want no part of.

But there are others lurking here. The Taliban have vanished back into the population.

They look the same, they dress the same: Men with beards in traditional Pakistani dress, the shawal kameez – making for an invisible enemy.

The people he says are now emboldened; identifying the militants in their midst and informing police.

But how many go undetected?

For the Pakistan military, fighting the Taliban is like wrestling with a column of smoke: once detected it simply changes shape and moves.

It is a matter of history now that the Taliban was spawned and promoted here in Pakistan. Back then, they were handy foot soldiers for the war with the Soviets in Afghanistan.

But Pakistan has a tiger by the tail.

The Taliban has threatened large parts of Pakistan, and actually managed to gain control of some regions close to the capital Islamabad.

This comes after years of insurgent violence. Since the 9/11 attacks in 2001 in the U.S., Pakistan has suffered around 6,000 terrorist attacks.

There have been more suicide bombings in Pakistan than either Iraq or Afghanistan. Former Prime Minister, Benazir Bhutto, was assassinated in an attack.

Terrorism has drained the economy: estimates of the cost to Pakistan runs to at least $40 billion. That far outweighs the estimated $13 billion the U.S. has given Pakistan for its role in the war on terror.

Soldiers earning only $100 a month are now fighting and dying to turn back the Taliban.

In parts of the country, the army is claiming victory.

But as many Taliban are being killed, many others are simply vanishing.

General Nadeem flies me over the war-torn Swat Valley, from our helicopter he points to the mountains: “That’s where they have fled to,” he said.

Beyond that is Afghanistan, where U.S. and NATO forces are also trying to oust the militants from their strongholds.

But the Taliban can so easily cross the border into Pakistan, and there they vanish. More invisible fighters in what many Pakistanis admit is "a battle for our soul."

SHER GARGH, Pakistan – This is cruel. Women, old people and young children – many of them babies – sweltering in blistering temperatures. Their convoys have converged into a massive traffic jam: gridlock. The cars, trucks and buses stretch as far as the eye can see. They are among the millions of refugees who have fled months of fighting between the Pakistan military and the Taliban. Now their government is telling them to go home: it is safe they say. But where is the planning? How can tens of thousands of people, carrying all they own, take to the roads without chaos?

Today, it seems there is a breakdown in communication at the roadside checkpoints. The army is blaming the police for incompetence. But as in this war, it is those caught in the crossfire that are paying the price.

One man screams at our camera that he has no food, no water; his children are crying. Another man dips his screaming child into the polluted water of a nearby canal for relief. The boy already has terrible sores all over his head; this won't help. Other children lie comatose in trucks, and old women look pleadingly at me as I give them what water I have.

Remember, when they get home they return to a battleground: houses destroyed, businesses shut, army patrols, the Taliban still lurking. Their lives, like this traffic jam; trapped and no relief in sight.

ISLAMABAD, Pakistan - I asked Richard Holbrooke a question this week and his answer amazed me.

The Obama administration's special envoy to Afghanistan and Pakistan said U.S. military forces had a feeble understanding of the Taliban and other militants they were fighting in Afghanistan and Pakistan's tribal region.

"I am very dissatisfied with the amount of knowledge that exists in Washington about our enemy," Holbrooke said. "I am deeply disturbed about our knowledge on this subject."

Holbrooke's comment came during an informal off-camera briefing with CNN and several other news agencies. A U.S. official hosted the event inside a private residence in Islamabad.

Holbrooke was in town to meet Pakistani leaders and bolster the strained relationship between Islamabad and Washington in the fight against extremists.

He also came to promote the Obama administration's new policy in the region, a policy designed to combine an aggressive military strategy with billions of dollars in economic aid.

About 25 of us sat around a plush living room. We had 30 minutes to ask questions. Admiral Mike Mullen was there too. He's the highest ranking U.S. military official.

These sessions are rare and very useful.

You don't get officials on camera but sometimes you get them to relax and open up on sensitive subjects.

With Holbrooke that's not always necessary. He has a reputation of telling it like it is.

That's exactly what he did when I asked him how well Washington understands the mindset of militants who welcome death, militants who are willing to wrap themselves with a vest packed with explosives and blow themselves up.

Holbrooke was blunt in his response. Washington's knowledge about the Taliban and what motivates them is not where it should be, he said. Clearly it was a rebuke of the Bush administration's strategy in the region.

Ever the optimist Holbrooke said the U.S. will do things better and learn more about the enemy.

Holbrooke said he was convinced that with more economic stability and security in the region fewer young men would join the Taliban.

Despite his optimism Holbrooke's answer raises a lot of troubling questions.

Washington doesn't know the Taliban? The enemy U.S. troops have been fighting for more than eight years? How do you beat the enemy if you don't even know them?

Without knowing the mindset of the enemy how can the U.S. be so sure that adding more troops in Afghanistan and targeting militants in Pakistan with U.S. missile strikes from unmanned predator drones is not spawning more extremists?

I don't know the answers to these questions, but if U.S. military leaders don't know the mindset of their enemy, then they don't know the answers either and I just don't find that very comforting.

ISLAMABAD, Pakistan - Few people get to meet the leader of the Pakistani Taliban Baitullah Mehsud, so when Pakistani journalist Behroz Khan was invited to one of his rare press conferences last year, he admits his heart started thumping a little harder.

"You know he's behind the deadliest attacks and these suicide bombers," Khan told CNN. "It is, I would say, a bit scary."

What Khan saw was not the long-bearded, menacing giant he expected. Khan said Mehsud was no more than 5 feet 4 inches tall (1.62 meters), portly, neatly dressed and a bit of a jokester.

"He seemed like a very normal person, cracking jokes and commenting on everything."

But no one was laughing in the U.S. this week when Mehsud vowed to launch an attack on Washington.

In a series of phone calls to the media, Mehsud also claimed responsibility for the recent suicide bombing of a police station in Islamabad and an attack on a police academy in Lahore.

The attacks were revenge, Mehsud said, for U.S. missile strikes on Pakistani soil. Mehsud's threat comes amid U.S. President Barack Obama's call for a crackdown on militants in Pakistan's ungoverned tribal region, Mehsud's home turf. U.S. intelligence officials also put a $5 million bounty on Mehsud's head.

Mehsud's threat may be his answer to Washington, said terrorism analyst Muhammad Amir Rana. Rana is head of the Pakistan Institute for Peace Studies, an Islamabad-based think tank that monitors militant groups in Pakistan.

"I think he wanted to give the message that if you have the head money on me, I can take revenge," Rana said.

Rana said Washington's $5 million bounty entrenches Mehsud as Pakistan's most powerful militant commander and puts him on the world's most wanted list with names like Osama Bin Laden, Ayman Al-Zawahiri and Afghan Taliban leader Mullah Omar.

It was alongside Mullah Omar's Taliban fighters in Afghanistan where Mehsud established a reputation as a fierce fighter in the 1990s. Mullah Omar was so impressed with the high-school-dropout-turned-militant that he named him a regional commander in Pakistan's ungoverned tribal region, Rana said.

Like his mentor Omar, Mehsud demanded never to be photographed. South Waziristan became his stronghold, a place where Mehsud still offers shelter and training to jihadists and Al Qaeda groups fighting U.S. and NATO forces in Afghanistan, Rana said.

Mehsud was declared the leader of the Pakistani Taliban in 2007. Last year, Time Magazine called him one of the 100 most influential people in the world because of the vast network of militants he controls.

Today Mehsud is suspected of being the architect of some of Pakistan's deadliest suicide attacks and the mastermind behind the assassination of former Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto.

Mehsud has denied involvement in the assassination. But Rana and U.S. intelligence officials said they have yet to see evidence that Mehsud is capable of striking beyond the Afghan-Pakistan region.

"Obviously he's challenging the U.S.," said Rana. "But that doesn't mean he'll go to Washington and do everything by himself."

Rana said Mehsud remains a major threat to Pakistan and U.S. forces in Afghanistan.

Journalist Behroz Khan said he doesn't think the joking militant leader he met was kidding when he claimed to have hundreds of suicide bombers and called them his atom bombs.

"He said the infidels have their own nuclear bombs so they are my atom bombs," Khan said.

ATLANTA, Georgia– Once the obvious shock and horror at the senseless attack on the Sri Lankan cricket team in Lahore has died down, the cricketers of Sri Lanka are surely entitled to ask why they were in Pakistan in the first place.

Pakistan has increasingly become a no-go area for touring teams, with all the leading test playing nations, and now Sri Lanka, having either aborted their tours or refused to tour the country over the last seven years due to security concerns.

Pakistan also lost hosting rights to the next Champions Trophy for the same reason and had become a virtual pariah in international cricket because of the danger attached to playing them.

Therefore, Sri Lanka's decision to visit Pakistan as a replacement for the Indian cricket team, which withdrew from a proposed tour in the wake of November's terrorist attacks in Mumbai, was always a roll of the dice by the Sri Lankans.

Sadly, and in the most devastating way, it has failed to pay off.

Of course, prior to Tuesday's attack, it had been thought that cricketers themselves were in some way untouchable when it came to the terrorist threat because of the esteem with which the game is held on the Indian sub-continent.

That was always a wildly optimistic, not to say foolhardy, assessment, especially when you consider that this test series –and the one-day series that preceded it –brought together two nations in the midst of political and social upheaval that always had the potential to spill over into the sporting arena and cause collateral damage.

What's more, is it not a wee bit naive to think that in this day and age anything is sacrosanct.

Sport at the highest level is designed to attract publicity. It's entertainment.  So, when Pakistan and Sri Lanka created a world forum by playing the series, the bad guys walked on stage and stole the show.

That's not to say that there shouldn't be any major sporting events, as that would be ridiculous on so many levels.

But one can't help but have the impression that this was a series that should have been avoided because the situation was so volatile.

Of course, hindsight is a wonderful thing, but if cricket and sport in general is to learn anything from this tragedy, then surely the lesson is obvious. If you walk into the lion's den, don't be surprised to get bitten.

BAJAUR AGENCY, Pakistan - He looked annoyed and carried an old AK-47 assault rifle. He walked up to me, looked me dead in the eyes and yelled: "Go! Just go!" This was my up-close look at what anti-American anger looks and feels like in Pakistan's lawless tribal region.

What military strategists in Washington should know is that the venom did not come from members of the Taliban or al Qaeda. It came from Pakistani tribesmen who had taken up arms and formed militias to fight against the Taliban, but equally willing to take on U.S. and NATO forces.

I saw hundreds of these militiamen during a rare trip for journalists to Pakistan's Federally Administered Tribal Area, or FATA, along the Afghan border. FATA is widely believed to be home to the Taliban and al Qaeda.

It's slightly bigger than the state of New Jersey and it's the focal point in the U.S.-led war on terror. In recent months Washington has turned up the heat on Pakistan and accused it of not doing enough against the Taliban and al Qaeda. This trip was an effort by the Pakistan Army to refute criticism and show the world it's making progress.

Part of the progress, according to the Pakistan Army, has been the emergence of armed militias who've vowed to stand shoulder to shoulder with soldiers to fight the Taliban. The Pakistan Army says its partnership with these civilian forces is crucial in the fight against al Qaeda and the Taliban.

What jeopardizes the partnership, they say, are U.S. incursions onto Pakistani soil. In recent weeks suspected U.S. missile strikes targeting militants in Pakistan's tribal region have increased, so has anti-American outrage, even among those who are enemies of the Taliban. I asked some of the tribesmen who they hated more, the Taliban or U.S. forces? "To us, they¹re equal," they said.

I saw the anti-American outrage in the eyes of the armed militiaman who got in my face and asked me to leave. I kept calm and reached out my hand. He shook it and eked out a smile. For a moment I felt his anger was gone. But in Pakistan's tribal region there is a lot more anti-American outrage that remains, and few analysts believe U.S. military strategy in the region will succeed without doing something about it.

ISLAMABAD, Pakistan  - After my pre-election blog with metaphoric ruminations about gathering storm clouds, downpours, damped spirits and political battles, I wasn't too surprised when the heavens did open halfway through voting. Fortunately I'd brought a rain jacket with me - but it did cross my mind that I'd rather tempted fate talking about the weather so close to the lawmakers casting their ballots.

In the parliamentarians' car park in front of the National Assembly building I counted about a dozen satellite trucks feeding live signals for Pakistan's numerous independent local TV stations. Many of them were pumping out live pictures of the voting, interspersed with breaking news analysis of quotes between rival representatives of the three different candidates.

As we set up own portable live transmission facility I couldn't help but reflect how far the tools of democracy have advanced here during the past decade. It took what amounted to a dictator to do it, but under the ousted president, military leader General Pervez Musharraf, the media in Pakistan multiplied.

When Musharraf took power in a bloodless coup nine years ago, his men only had to take control of PTV, the state broadcaster, to get the message out that Musharraf was the new boss.

Today, thanks to Musharraf's enlightened approach, he'd need to take over a whole host of broadcasters if he wanted a repeat of his 1999 power grab. That's not to say that he didn't try to do just that and close many media outlets down during his waning months in office. But you get the point.

The country is now awash with unvarnished, if sometimes a little inaccurate, TV reporting it never had before. And the man many media organizations here had helped hound from office was the man who helped get them off the ground in the first place.

Strange maybe, but Musharraf more than earned his ticket to retirement by long overstaying the welcome he came to power with, abusing his authority with transparent but, nonetheless, undemocratic manipulations to keep control of the country.

But enough of Musharraf. Saturday was all about the new guy. A three-way race.

Asif Ali Zardari, the widower of slain former Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto, began the day as favorite.

We spent the morning by the path parliamentarians were using to reach the National Assembly and vote. Every so often we stopped one or two of them to ask their opinions. No one bucked the trend. Zardari still seemed to be the man.

That's not to say they we are fans of his. Many of the opposition candidates were particularly vocal on what they expected Zardari to do if he won the vote: hand power back to the National Assembly taken by Musharraf. They wanted, they told us, a president who is a father figure for the country, who can unify and not divide. In short they want him to shed his party affiliation as well as his power.

It was while we were by the path that the rain began, slow at first, then heavier and in bigger splashes that discolored the tarmac. After a quick wry smile about my previous blog, I decided that was the moment to go and watch the historic event unfold firsthand.

As I came through the door high in the press gallery overlooking the parliamentarians in their chairs below, it took me a moment to orientate myself to the pictures I'd seen on TV.

There was the prime minister way below me and the ballot box on the raised table in front of him and next the chairman of the electoral commission. It was as if one had entered the upper circle at a theatre, with the prime minister in the front row of the stalls and the electoral officer on the stage.

But no theater has such a sense of awe and power as soon as you step inside it. The people below are not actors: they carry their power, privileges and responsibilities home with them every day. I suppose there is a solemnity to it but I had a very real sense of history being made here.

You could say that's foolish; after all, the deals to secure the votes were made days, weeks ago. But the men and women below me were turning their trust in those deals to ticks in a box. It's a moment of faith for them - and I felt caught up in that moment.

In hushed whispers a Pakistani journalist next to me pointed to the female parliamentarians below and told me it was Musharraf who had done much for women during his rule. It was true to a degree but I couldn't help wondering if a fear of what the next president might bring was at the root of his re-rationalization of history casting Musharraf as some paragon of democracy.

When I came out it was raining harder than ever and I was greeted by the news that a suicide car bomber had attacked a police checkpoint in northwestern Pakistan, killing and wounding dozens of people. The blast was so powerful stores near the checkpoint had collapsed, people were still stuck inside, and the storm clouds of the day before had been a portent.

A few hours later, when we saw on the local TV stations live pictures of a garden banquet for lawmakers hosted by the president elect Asif Ali Zardari, we called contacts for a last-minute invite. Not only were we invited but I was allowed one question in what I was to later find out was an exclusive one-on-one interview with the new president.

I couldn't help myself. I asked three. Well, what else can a reporter do when you're given first shot at a new president? He'd won as expected more than two-thirds of the vote. In one province of 164 lawmakers, none voted against him. Anyway I was chastised, hopefully tongue-in-cheek, by his very media-savvy press aide for my enthusiasm.

What struck me, as Zardari explained his victory as a significant step towards a fully democratic Pakistan, was how he framed it as a tribute to the aspirations of Benazir Bhutto, his late wife and former prime minister.

It made me realize how hard it will be for him if he is to divorce himself from party politics. When Bhutto was assassinated, Zardari took over leadership of the party because he was judged as the best person to stop it from breaking apart. I'm not sure his party believes that he's any less necessary to unity than before.

On the issue of handing back powers to the parliament taken by Musharraf, Zardari said he was committed to it, adding: "I shall hand over all the powers the parliament desires."

A few minutes later the prime minister, Yousaf Raza Gilani, told me working out the details would be easy because both men are both from the same party.

As we drove back from the opulence of banquet, I was struck by the emptiness of the streets. It was around 10pm and apart from a few police we saw no one.

When the results were announced a few hours earlier, small noisy crowds had gathered outside the National Assembly. I've seen these types of crowds before. If you ignore them they go away, but point a camera in their direction and they animate and energize as if a switch were flipped. Even these stalwarts of political celebration had gone.

Strange. One would think there was something to celebrate. The election was the first fully democratic vote in over a decade, and Zardari had successfully built a political consensus and engineered Musharraf's removal without bloodshed. No easy task. But no one we could find was dancing in the streets.

Was it because he is still tarnished in popular perception with charges, he refutes, of corruption? Or because he refuses to reinstate the Chief Justice sacked by Musharraf that many here feel is a test of his commitment to democracy? Or because people have no faith in any of their politicians?

To be successful Zardari will have to win over the people. His and the country's battles ahead are numerous and complex. Tackling the tanking economy and take on the Taliban will both require popular and informed consent.

From what I have learned from my Pakistani journalist friends, Zardari has a short window of opportunity now to get the increasingly influential media in his corner or face their relentless scrutiny of any perceived failings.

He has a tough job ahead.