Duncan, who spent two years as The Economist's South Asia correspondent, has written an informative and graceful "map of power" to Pakistan. Although her residence in the country was limited to a scant eight months, she used the time well and made the most of it by restricting her attention to a very specific topic: the leaders, who they are and how they behave. The bulk of Breaking the Curfew consists of eight chapters, each describing a specific kind of leader-businessman, landlord, tribal chief, urban upstarts, politician, religious leader, civil servant, and soldier.
Duncan's observations are severe but fair. She characterizes Pakistan as a country where "the get-rich-quick ethic is stronger" than anywhere else she had ever been. Loyalty, a much-prized and mentioned virtue among the elite, she translates as "simply keeping your balance-sheet in order." Looking to the future of Benazir Bhutto's government, Duncan expects to see "an implicit partnership between the prime minister and the chief of Army staff."
If the book has any single theme, it is the problems arising from a profound disparity between the way things seem and the way they really are. "Pakistan's politics have worked badly because people who claim to be playing by one set of rules are in fact quietly playing by another." The courts, the ministries, and the police appear to be the same as their Western eponyms; in fact, they reflect the fact that Pakistani politics are mired in what Duncan dubs "a sort of neo-tribalism."
