I WAS in the United States when the deadly Nato attack on two Pakistani border posts killed 24 soldiers.

When asked by a radio interviewer to explain the furious reaction in Pakistan, I responded by asking him how Americans would have reacted had a similar number of their soldiers been killed by Pakistani troops.

I went on to suggest that US politicians from both parties would have demanded immediate retaliation. They would certainly have rejected a Pakistani offer to investigate such an incident, and the public and the media would have put huge pressure on the Obama administration to bomb targets in Pakistan.

The truth is that both countries are now so suspicious of each other that neither is willing to accept the other’s version of events. But by refusing to participate in the American inquiry, our generals have made it clear that they are not interested in reaching the truth, but in scoring points.

The report produced by the American inquiry into the incident makes it clear that to a large extent, the Nov 27 tragedy was entirely avoidable. Neither side transmitted crucial information to the other because of the trust deficit between them. And even when it became clear to the American side that their soldiers had attacked a Pakistani security post, it took 45 minutes for the information to reach senior officers who immediately ordered a halt.

However, to read criminal intent into this chain of events is to enter the world of self-delusion and paranoia. What could the Americans possibly gain by deliberately killing Pakistani soldiers? Many conspiracy theorists assert that Washington wanted to “teach Pakistan a lesson”.

A lesson about what, though? That they have overwhelming military superiority? Surely that point was driven home in the May 2 raid in Abbotabad that took out Osama bin Laden without our bloated military and security apparatus even being aware of the two-hour long American presence.

Even our jingoistic TV chat show hosts would recognise the fact that the Americans need Pakistani cooperation to conduct the war in Afghanistan. As the long queues of Nato container trucks currently lining roads leading out of Karachi will attest, the US needs the supply routes through Pakistan to supply its troops. In addition, Pakistan permits American planes to use its airspace. Other areas of cooperation include intelligence sharing and the use of the Shamsi airbase.

Given all this, why would the Americans jeopardise an already prickly relationship with its reluctant ally by deliberately killing our soldiers? This interpretation of the events of Nov 27 makes absolutely no sense.

But what also makes no sense is the American refusal to apologise. What would it cost Obama to just say sorry so both sides can move on? After all, the official inquiry report does contain a pretty damning list of procedural flaws and tactical errors committed by American troops and their commanders.

True, the report does allege that Pakistani soldiers mistakenly engaged a joint Afghan-US patrol close to the border; but it also makes it clear that Pakistan had not been informed of the operation, so our soldiers apparently mistook them for intruding Taliban fighters. This led inexorably to the tragic chain of events that has caused a deep — and possibly irreparable — rupture in our relations with Washington.

Given the high stakes involved, why don’t the Americans just apologise? In England, I notice that even when somebody accidentally bumps against a pedestrian on a pavement, both apologise repeatedly. Even if a person is not at fault, he’ll still say ‘sorry’.

The Americans have already expressed their regrets over the incident. Why can’t they just take the small step necessary to turn this into a formal apology? As they have already offered to pay compensation to the families of the dead soldiers — an offer rejected by our generals — it isn’t that an apology would have any financial implications.

An apology often disarms the other person. The other day, a driver accidentally reversed into our car, causing a small dent.

But before I could berate him for his stupidity and demand the cost of repairs, he accepted it was entirely his fault, and apologised. After that, I found it hard to stay angry, and left, advising him to be more careful in the future.

An American apology would allow both sides to press the reset button on their relationship and salvage a measure of cooperation, if not cordiality. It would also enable US and Pakistani military representatives to sit down and exchange information about the precise location of security posts, and of patrols carried out on both sides of the border. They could also work out better and quicker communication protocols.

Thus far, mistrust has prevented an open exchange of information, but having seen how deadly this can prove to be, it is high time for greater openness. Unfortunately, both sides are insisting on behaving like sulky kids: each feels wronged and refuses to take the steps necessary to bridge the gap.

One would have thought that being a superpower, America would have the self-confidence to apologise without feeling diminished. But sadly, it seems wisdom does not necessarily go hand in hand with power.

Pakistan’s relationship with America has always been a transactional one. There is no common ground that unites them. Only self-interest has bound them together in a series of alliances over the years. The Pakistan military, in particular, harbours a number of grievances against its American benefactor, and has succeeded in disseminating them widely, thanks to its close links with sections of the media.

Our powerful generals have made their displeasure known by a series of steps, including the embargo slapped on the transit of Nato supplies, the shutdown of the Shamsi airbase, and a halt in coordination between the two sides at the Pak-Afghan border.

We also boycotted the Bonn conference on Afghanistan.

Now, the ball’s in the American court. The easy way out would be to just say ‘sorry’ and move on.