PERSPECTIVES: 'Cricket seems so small and far away': The US war on terrorism has put a strain on the natural confidence of Imran Khan, the Pakistani cricketer-turned-politician, finds Edward Luce

[Financial Times - UK - 29 September]: It is not often onegets to meet a childhood hero. But Imran Khan, Pakistan's finest-ever cricketer, and still the heart-throb of a million adolescent girls, is not in the mood for nostalgia. There is a strong atmosphere of foreboding in Islamabad, Pakistan's gleaming modern capital, following the country's decision to back the US in its war on terrorism.

"For the first time in my life, I'm starting to feel rather old," said Imran. "I've always been a natural optimist. But the terrorist attacks and America's declaration of war on terrorism both trouble me deeply."

Dressed elegantly in a white shalwar kameez, the UK-educated leader and founder of the small Justice Movement party looks much younger than his 49 years. But there was also an air of wistfulness about the former Pakistan captain. And it took some effort to coax him off the subject of the US and what everyone in Pakistan assumes to be the impending war in Afghanistan.

We met, appropriately enough, at the Kabul Restaurant, a threadbare Afghan outlet in the centre of Islamabad. Imran's presence did not raise an eyebrow. "I love Afghani food - the mutton you get here is the most tender in the world," he said.

Imran ordered for us both: a simple meal of kebabs, stewed spinach, and unleavened Afghan bread. Although born in Punjab, Imran's family originally come from the Pathan tribal areas that border and spill over into neighbouring Afghanistan. The hardline Taliban regime of Afghanistan is dominated by Pathans.

Romanticised by Kipling and others as the least repressible people in the British Raj, the "martial" Pathans of the north-west frontier province have also supplied many of the fast bowlers that have brought Pakistan such success on the cricket field. Imran, of course, is the most celebrated of them all.

Our conversation inevitably turns to General Pervez Musharraf's recent decision to back possible US-led action against Afghanistan. "Afghanis are our cousins, we share the same blood," said Imran. "Any attack that results in the death of innocent Afghani civilians will provoke an enormous backlash in Pakistan. It would be deeply immoral."

As a graduate of politics, philosophy and economics from Keble College, Oxford, Imran is well-placed to observe the mis-communication that often curdles relations between Islamic countries and the west and expresses anxiety that the terrorist attacks on the US could provoke broader conflict between Islam and the west.

At the same time, he is dismissive of the religious hardliners in Pakistan who have come out of the streets to chant "Death to America" and "Long live Osama" - in support of Osama bin Laden, prime suspect for the outrages.

"These people are not representative of most Pakistanis," said Imran. "But the western media, especially the TV outlets, have been focusing almost exclusively on the Islamic hardliners.

"All it does is reinforce the stereotype of the Muslim as a mad fanatic."

Although broadly secular in his philosophy, Imran says he has also been the target of western media stereotyping, especially when, in 1995, he announced his engagement to Jemima Goldsmith, daughter of James Goldsmith, the late Anglo-French industrialist and Eurosceptic.

Imran flinches at the memory. "I could not believe the British press coverage of my engagement to Jemima. They said I was going to lock her up in a room somewhere in Pakistan and never let her out."

Imran was also vilified by most of Pakistan's Urdu-language newspapers over his bride's Jewish background. "The coverage over here was equally upsetting. I was accused of being a Zionist and working for the Israelis. The whole episode was very disillusioning."

Imran eats deftly with his fingers, an elegant contrast to my clumsy efforts with the knife and fork. He sips from a bottle of cola. I ask whether his experiences with the media have made him pessimistic about the possibility of Islam and the west ever peaceably co-existing.

Imran seems troubled. "What the terrorists did in New York and Washington has nothing to do with Islam," he said. "The west doesn't blame Hinduism when the Tamil Tigers launch suicide bombers in Sri Lanka so why are they so quick to blame Islam when there are actions such as this?"

But Imran is also keen to emphasise that the west, especially the US, has done much to create the breeding grounds for people such as bin Laden. "America's support of what Israel is doing in the occupied territories and the sanctions on Iraq that are killing thousands of innocent children, give Muslims the impression that America has serious double standards.

"Of course it is vital that the guilty are punished for the terrorist attacks on America but it is also important that America removes some of the deep causes of resentment that many Muslims feel."

So, tough on terrorism and tough on the causes of terrorism?

Imran agrees emphatically.

We polish off what remains of the mutton and he orders some green Afghan tea with sugar.

What, I asked, had persuaded him to turn to Pakistani politics? It seemed so far removed from the world of cricket and the glamorous life that Imran was reputed to have enjoyed whenever he was outside Pakistan.

Imran says he became interested in politics when the "deep corruption" of Pakistan's "ruling mafia families" began to dawn on him in the mid-1980s. At the same time, in 1985, his mother died of cancer. Her death - "the most life-changing thing that has ever happened to me" - prompted him to re-evaluate his philosophy.

Imran spent much of the next decade raising money for the construction of a specialist cancer hospital in Lahore that is named after his mother. "When you go out on the streets asking people for money it has a profound effect on your character. It brings you out of yourself," he said. "That experience also opened my eyes to the role money plays in Pakistan politics."

Having been falsely accused of siphoning off donations from the cancer hospital - in spite of the fact that he was the largest donor to the charity - Imran's young party ran on an anti-corruption ticket in the 1997 election. A lack of money meant it failed to get anywhere, he says. Even today, it merits barely any press coverage in Pakistan. "To get media coverage in Pakistan you need to have a lot of money."

But Imran's natural optimism - some would say innocence - is irrepressible. Against all the evidence, Imran predicts his party will come to power at the next general election in Pakistan.

"Optimism works," he says, smiling broadly. "In my first test match I thought I was going to get 100 runs and 10 wickets. If I thought I would get nowhere in politics I wouldn't bother."

It was time for a parting of the ways. At just Dollars 5, the bill for lunch seemed unjustly small.

"Leave them a big tip," Imran advised. As we were getting up, I asked him if he missed the world of cricket and international stardom.

He thought for a moment. "The world of cricket seems so small and far away," he said. "What I am doing now with the cancer hospital and through politics gives me a much, much greater sense of fulfilment."