YES, OK, we get it. The pols really, really want to talk to the Taliban. The Taliban really don’t want to talk to anyone. And this will end pretty much how it looks like it will end.

Watching from the sidelines, it can all seem very confusing. If one side is crazy and self-destructive and threatening to take everyone down with it, why can’t the other side push back?

Why is one side always so quiet, always ceding so much space to even the mainstream enablers and sympathisers of the Taliban?

After all, there’re some pretty good, fairly obvious, hard-to-refute talking points available.

Like: seriously, you think Islam can be in danger in a country where 98pc of the population is Muslim?

Eid is always going to be a national holiday, mosques will exist in every neighbourhood and public life will always have a distinctly Muslim character. Relax.

Like: no one has any interest, at all, ever, in thwarting anyone from being religious in any way they like.

Pick the length of beard that works for you, the size of veil you want for yourself — just stop wanting to determine the length of some girls’ sleeves, and what some folk pour down their throat. It’s a conservative society; everyone gets that and is OK with it.

Like: you know how one moment you’re bashing the West for being secular and the next for being Christian or Jewish? Exactly! It’s both.

The Muslim character of Pakistan is in its DNA. See: 98pc of the population. It’s possible to be both.

But you never get to hear any of that. Want to know why? Fear.

Imagine you’re on a talk show. The usual suspects from the right are yammering on about the usual: warmongering liberals; poor, misunderstood Taliban; the great deviant nation that Pakistan has become thanks to the godless secularists; more — austere — religion the answer to everything.

Now you’re sitting there and thinking, God, I can’t take this anymore, I’m going to say what I think. So you launch into your pretty good, fairly obvious, hard-to-refute talking points.

They listen quietly, for a minute perhaps. Then it happens. There is much shock and horror and anguish on their faces. Some anger too maybe. But what you’re saying is against Islam, they cry.

Game over.

You protest; you say that’s a distortion of what you’re saying; you repeat what you had said, slowly, spelling it out this time — but none of it matters.

Because it’s already game over.

They don’t have to accuse you of a crime. They don’t have to say you’ve committed blasphemy. Hell, they don’t even have to say what you’ve said is wrong; they could just accuse you of not showing enough respect or deference to religion.

But what you’re saying is against Islam, they will cry — or maybe even just allude.

And somewhere in the back of your mind, you’ll start worrying about someone putting a bullet in the back of your head when you leave that studio. Maybe just one of those ubiquitous armed guards watching on a TV outside.

So you decide not to go on the talk show. Instead, you decide to go out to dinner, leaving the usual suspects on TV to yammer on about the usual unchallenged.

But fear isn’t that easy a fella to shake off.

You’re at the restaurant now, chatting to friends and enjoying a good meal.

Because the usual suspects are always yammering on unchallenged on TV, everyone’s always talking about them. Even your friends.

Ah, but you’ve got your pretty good, fairly obvious, hard-to-refute talking points, and it’s a friendly audience anyway. So you decide to launch into them.

Except first you glance at the adjacent tables and size up whoever is within earshot. You never did this before. Your favourite restaurant was an oasis. But now you never know.

Fear. He’s a difficult fella to shake off.

So you decide not to go the restaurant. Instead, you stay at home and watch the usual suspects yammering on about the usual on TV unchallenged. And what you hear makes you more fearful.

But fear only explains why one side doesn’t push back.

There’s a trick the other side — the mainstream enablers and sympathisers of the Taliban — plays that makes them so successful.

They are driven by a deep, profound, unshakeable sense that they are the aggrieved party. That they are the ones who are under pressure from the other side. That they are the ones who have to fight to be heard.

That the structures of state and society conspire to silence and intimidate them. That they are plucky upstarts fighting against a godless, secular, religion-hating behemoth.

That they are the ones fighting against the odds. That the side of the right is always destined to struggle against the more powerful side of the wrong.

It is a most remarkable thing to behold: one side fearful of a bullet to the back of the head; the other adamant that it is the underdog.

So we have this silliness about talks instead.

The pols really, really want to talk to the Taliban. The Taliban really don’t want to talk to anyone. And this will end pretty much how it looks like it will end.

Just don’t expect to hear much about why.

The writer is a member of staff.

cyril.a@gmail.com

Twitter: @cyalm