Despite the ongoing feud between the president and prime minister with its resultant impact on the peace talks, Sri Lanka is still expecting half a million tourists this year.

The civil war between the Tamils and the government has dragged on for two decades and has caused tens of thousands of deaths, apart from devouring resources badly needed for development. Nevertheless, the country's free and compulsory educational system has not been starved of funds. It is a pleasure to see thousands of boys and girls walking to school in their crisp white uniforms that have been provided by the state, as are their books.

But the paucity of resources was evident in the narrow and chaotic coastal highway that reminded me that I was very much in the subcontinent. The traffic was hair-raising as we drove to Tangalla, a small town on the south-western coast nearly 200 kilometres from Colombo. I was only slightly reassured when somebody informed me that more people died from falling coconuts than from road accidents.

Tangalla has several mosques, Buddhist and Hindu temples and churches of various Christian denominations. This variety and acceptance of other beliefs are reflected in the skirts, saris, shalwars, sarongs, robes and occasional hijabs that are visible on the roads. Despite the odd incident, all these different faiths live side by side without visible friction.

In the holy complex of Kataragama in the south, there is a thousand-year old shrine of a Central Asian Muslim, Ahmad Jabbar, together with a mosque. Although there are very few Muslims living in the area, this group of buildings is within the compound housing some of the holiest Hindu and Buddhist temples in the country.

In my book, kindness to animals is an important criterion of a society's level of civilization, and Sri Lanka passes this test with flying colours. Indeed, the cluster of cabanas where we spent a fortnight had several friendly dogs that would adopt guests and sleep on their verandas without being chased off by the security staff.

Thousands of monkeys went about their business in the holy complex of Kataragama. I do not recall seeing any starving animals, just as I did not encounter any beggars on the streets of large or small towns.

Despite the civil war, it is this tolerance combined with superb beaches and a huge range of flora and fauna that has made Sri Lanka such a popular tourist destination. Once a peace agreement is signed next year - as is widely expected - a flood of foreign investment will flow in.

Already, many multinationals have offices in Colombo and the hospitality sector is huge. Most Sri Lankans I spoke to were angry with their president and her constitutional coup as it has put the peace process on hold. Mercifully, the ceasefire is holding and foreigners do not feel under any kind of threat.

Apart from visiting this delightful country, thousands of foreigners have bought property and built holiday homes. Some have retired to its shores, taking advantage not only of its tropical climate but its relaxed lifestyle and cheap prices. Petrol is around 30 Pakistani rupees per litre and other essentials are similarly inexpensive. Out of curiosity (what else?), I enquired about the price of alcoholic drinks and was amazed to find that the local Lion lager (that I was informed was the best) was only 30 rupees for a large bottle while palm-based 'arrack' was similarly priced. And yet, I saw no public rowdyism of the kind so common in England. While alcohol-related problems obviously exist, they are certainly far less serious than Pakistan's heroin-addiction.

We in Pakistan are rightly fond of boasting of our many historical sites and spectacular scenic beauty, but these factors alone will not draw foreigners to our shores. The fear of bullies keeps free-spending holiday-makers well away, as does the austere lifestyle they are forced to adopt if they are foolhardy enough to visit. While talking about the rampant unemployment in Pakistan, our politicians and planners fail to understand that tourism and its associated sectors are the single biggest industry in the world, generating hundreds of billions of dollars a year.

This entire phenomenon has passed us by as we engage in jihad, rattle our nuclear sabre, and impose a glum and joyless lifestyle on our citizens as well as our guests. While the region has witnessed a steady increase in the number of tourists, fewer genuine tourists now visit our shores. The figures put out by the government include all those expatriates who now hold foreign passports and visit their Pakistani relatives. Needless to say, they do not stay in hotels and do not purchase any souvenirs.

As Pakistan has become progressively more intolerant, fewer foreigners even consider us as a possible destination. Not unreasonably, people spending money on vacation expect to enjoy themselves. They do not want to be goggled at or hassled as they are here.

Tour operators no longer suggest Pakistan to their customers; very few airlines land at our airports; insurance companies want a higher premium to cover people visiting us; and foreign governments advise their citizens not to travel to Pakistan unless it is essential. Diplomats serving here get a special 'hazard allowance', but Islamabad is still a very undesirable posting.

All these are the necessary costs of adopting a rigid ideology and insisting that foreigners abide by it. Other Muslim countries are tourist-friendly but their faith has not been endangered as a result. Take Dubai as an example: within two decades, it has transformed itself by opening up to the world. Turkey, Egypt and Morocco are all illustrations of liberal Muslim societies that see no contradiction between being true to their faith and welcoming foreigners to their shores.

While tourists have been attacked occasionally in all these countries, their governments have taken very tough measures against those responsible. The reality is that in Pakistan, the state is viewed as being largely responsible for the aura of public piety and religiosity that are now Pakistan's single defining feature.

This official encouragement of religious extremism and fanaticism has damaged Pakistan's image abroad irreparably, and we are generally viewed as a nation of violent zealots who give aid and comfort to terrorists.

Coming back to Sri Lanka, the country's name has undergone several changes: while it was called Ceylon until relatively recently, its ancient name was Sernedip, from which is derived 'serendipity', the delightful word which implies a happy chance. As John Barth wrote in his 'The Last Voyage of Somebody the Sailor': "You don't reach Serendip by plotting a course for it. You have to set out in good faith for elsewhere and lose your bearing serendipitously..."