Pakistan's fight for hearts and minds

As the Pakistani offensive against the Taliban continues, Barbara Plett has been speaking to some of the people who have been displaced by the conflict.

Men fleeing the fighting between the army and the Taliban

People are continuing to flee the fighting between the army and Taliban

A man leading a camel trudges along at the edge of a narrow road, several others with him shepherd a few cattle and goats. Their faces are dark with sweat, their eyes hooded with exhaustion.

They have walked 60 miles (95km) in the past 36 hours, along this route used by many to flee the war between the army and the Taliban.

They tell me they left behind the livestock that couldn't make the journey, along with everything in the house.

"We don't know where we're going, we'll stop wherever we can find a place," the say.

What about the military operation against the Taliban, I ask, is it the right thing to do?

"I don't know who's right or who's wrong," says one of them, Saif ur Rehman. "The only thing I know is that we're suffering."

See map of region

Pakistan's leaders have called this offensive against the Taliban - in and around the north-west Swat valley - a battle for the soul of the country.

Broadly speaking, this time the public agrees. In the past, it has criticised such military campaigns as Pakistanis killing Pakistanis at America's behest.

So I have been asking those directly affected by the conflict what they think: is this their war?

Army support

In a hospital ward in Peshawar, a young army commando, Nadir Khan, tells me how he dropped from a helicopter into a Taliban base in the mountains.

Injured commando Nadir Khan is determined to return to the frontline

It was his first mission. He took a bullet in the hip four hours after he hit the ground.

"This is our country, and this is our fight," he says, vowing to go back to the frontline as soon as he has healed. "The peace of the country, and the future of the people, are at stake."

At a registration centre for displaced people in the farming town of Swabi, some agree.

Misbah Ahmed Jan is a soft-spoken teacher who tells me he fled with his seven children and two wives when the Taliban blew up police stations near his house.

"The army can defeat them," he says, "it can stop them from coming back."

A jeweller, Karim Dad, is further along in the line, waiting to pick up a sack of wheat and canister of oil.

"The Taliban were blackmailing people in the name of Islam," he tells me. "We support the army's fight against them, but only if it's done in the right way. Not if it kills 60 people in a day and only 10 of them are Taliban."

Tough conditions

The latest exodus during a break in the army curfew has inundated Shah Mansour camp. Two and half thousand people have arrived in just 24 hours.

Reaction to Pakistan's offensive against the Taleban is mixed in the camps

As we enter, another lorry drives up. Children with matted hair and dirty faces scramble off, women hand down their babies, then sit in a small sliver of shade while their men sort out temporary homes.

They have come from the cool of the mountains into the dust and heat of the plains, with little to shelter them except row after row of canvas tents set up with military precision.

Mir Taj is one of many who feels out of place in these harsh conditions. He is a taxi driver who speaks good English, a reminder that Swat was once a popular tourist destination.

I catch up with him in the clinic where he is getting help for his sick little boy.

He tells me that the Taliban are taking over empty houses, preparing for an assault on Swat's main city, that more than two dozen of his neighbours were killed by a blast in his street, but who does he blame?

"America," he says. "Before the Americans came, we were safe, but since they entered Afghanistan and Iraq, our country isn't safe any more."

Battle for minds

Not far away, inside a large tent, a cluster of men gather around the registration table. They are hot, disoriented, and angry.

Is this a war to protect people from the Taliban? Once again I toss the question out, many shake their heads solemnly.

Sirajuddin, a teacher with a leathery brown face and fine features, speaks up. He and his family left Swat as soon as the curfew was lifted. They walked for three hours before they found transport.

"This is a war against us," he says. "The army is killing us, and taking our lands by telling us to leave.

"Only Islamic law can bring peace, and that's what the Taliban want. If the army imposes its rule, there will be fighting all the time."

As the army continues the fight against the Taliban in Swat, the authorities are aware that a crucial part of the battle is for the hearts and minds of those displaced by the conflict.

But the more time I spend in the camps, the more I realise that those caught up in this war have very different ideas of what it is all about.