By David Loyn
BBC News, Islamabad

It would cost a million dollars to stage the Lahore International Arts Festival – not much to restore a sense of hope in a city that sometimes feels under siege.

The last festival was bombed in November last year, so even without the global economic downturn, the big sponsors would have shied away from connection with the event this year.

The Taliban have staged their most spectacular attacks in Pakistan recently on five-star hotels – the Pearl Continental in Peshawar and the Marriott in Islamabad – but it is the Punjab province capital, Lahore, that has faced the most constant attention.

Since the festival bombing, targets have included a cafe belonging to the Peerzada family who stage the festival, and theatres across the city in co-ordinated overnight raids.

Cultural frontline

Salman Shahid, who has a popular TV chat show, says that every time people go out for the evening, there is a danger that was not there a couple of years ago.

"Somewhere at the back of your mind there is a thought that you are taking a bit of a risk," he says.

To go backstage in one of the theatres that was bombed, I climbed a steep and narrow metal staircase, squeezing along stained walls in a side street in Lahore.

On stage, some of Pakistan’s biggest screen stars are playing parts amid the poor lighting and makeshift scenery. Their industry has failed to keep up with Bollywood in recent years.

The theatre’s owner Bilal Ahmed said: "The cinema of Pakistan has been facing a lot of crisis. There was a time when Pakistan and India were going neck to neck.

"We do not have the state of the art equipment our neighbour does. It is just hopeless in Pakistan."

Windows broken in the bomb attack have still not been repaired at the front of the theatre, but Mr Ahmed was not giving up. Like everyone I spoke to on this cultural frontline, he saw his theatre work as having a role beyond mere entertainment.

Bawdy shows

Being able to put on vulgar bawdy shows about Punjab family life was in some way standing up for a civilisation in peril from the Taliban.

"It is the best form of fighting terrorism to expose them, so that normal people will have no sympathy for them"

Younis Butt

Although his dancers were clothed from head to foot, their gyrations miming to Bollywood movies have to be passed by the censor, and the police do come and check.

It is as if the theatre is on a tightrope, and could fall off any time.

TV in contrast does not face censorship, and Pakistan has seen fierce competition in recent years. One of the most successful channels, Geo TV, like many institutions in the country, has taken a far harder line against the Taliban this year than before.

The tolerance for brave Islamic fighters was fine when they were fighting foreign wars in Afghanistan and in Indian-controlled Kashmir.

But now that Pakistan faces an internal Islamist threat, the real nature of the kind of life the fundamentalists want has brought a new unity against them.

Younis Butt has launched a comedy show specifically to respond to the Taliban threat, including a spoof Taliban TV channel, complete with a woman singer who sits in silence with her back to the camera, and time-checks made by bullets striking a bell.

Mr Butt says: "It is the best form of fighting terrorism to expose them, so that normal people will have no sympathy for them. That is only way we can isolate them, then we can fight them."

He says his lampooning of US policy has caused complaints from Americans, too.

Mainstream v mullahs

"Americans say if this truth is by Jon Stewart or by David Letterman then that is good, but if you are doing it in Pakistan then you are not doing good work," he says.

But he believes that if he is getting strong protests from both the US and the Taliban, then he is fulfilling his function as a safety valve for a society that needs to laugh.

The Peerzada family, still hoping against the odds to stage their international festival, stress Pakistan’s Sufi Islamic traditions as a counter to the Taliban.

Usman Peerzada said: "This is the moment people need the arts, need music to relax. This is the moment that people need to see drama."

Lahore is full of shrines remembering Sufi saints – a type of religion that the Taliban detest.

Faizan Peerzada has been on a long tour of Sufi areas, collecting stories, music and poetry.

‘Total war’

And he has promoted a Sufi singer, Sain Zahoor, now internationally famous.

Sain Zahoor sings ancient poetry that tells of past conflicts between the Sufi mainstream and mullahs who wanted a more restrictive vision of Islamic life – a reminder that the Taliban represent an old viewpoint, appearing in a modern guise.

All of these artists are striking back with the only weapons they have – drama, music and above all humour. And the public are responding.

The day after the arts festival was bombed last year, the open-air theatre was packed.

Lahori people walked through the debris, some bringing babies and small children, in defiance of the threat. Those who were there said the atmosphere was electric.

Sadaan Peerzada said: "It is a total war. They are trying to choke and discourage. They are bold. We have to do the same and keep doing it."

Pakistan feels like a country on a hinge of history. This year for the first time it has turned on the extremist version of Islam that it nurtured for so long.

But the decisive battles in its war with the Taliban might not turn out to be on the North West Frontier Province, but on this cultural frontier of hearts and minds, as a nation struggles with its identity in the world. </p

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