America's General
Pakistan takes its most crucial decision since the 1971 war — to side with the US against the Taliban. The clerics may protest, but Musharraf has few options.

ECONOMIC IMPACT
Where Are We Going?
Fear and uncertainty stalk the Indian economy as early damages begin to show.

Ready For Battle
Where will the US strike, with what and how? A report on the military options before the global coalition that the Americans are building against terrorism.

Shifting Stance
Indian foreign policy is in a flux following the terrorist strikes in the US, metamorphosing in tandem with the tectonic shift in the geopolitical landscape of the world.

Menace In The Mind
People like bin Laden are not so much politicising religion as religionising politics.

COVER STORY: THE AFTERMATH

	UNSAFE SKIES: Airports like the O'Hare in Chicago have very few passengers now

The reappraisal was infectious. A whole slew of foreign policy analysts has been unearthed after a virtually jobless 1990s and asked to redraw the lists of America's friends and enemies. Out from the Ronald Reagan and Bush senior closet of 20 years ago have emerged Alexander Haig and Lawrence Eagleburger, both former foreign secretaries. Eagleburger, incidentally, spoke of "new ties" with India, which has had "its own problems with terrorism".

A book on the predictions of Nostradamus — ritually rediscovered after every disaster-now tops the bestsellers' list. In more literate circles, such as the editorial pages of the New York Times, Samuel Huntington's Clash of Civilisations has currency again. You'd think America is all gung-ho and ready to go to war-until you went to the airport. Among a people determined on a "crusade" — President Bush's expression, though his supporters insist he didn't realise the historical connotation — against Islamic jehadis, there's a remarkable fear of flying.

SNAPSHOTS FROM A COUNTRY LEFT SHAKEN AND STIRRED
FACES IN THE CROWD: Leaflets with pictures of missing men and women cover New York streets. IN THE ARMY NOW: There are suggestions that military service be made compulsory. HEAL THE WORLD: Pop star Michael Jackson is writing a song to raise funds for victims. WAR ON WALL STREET: The markets are bullish on stocks of defence equipment firms.
RUDY COMES GOOD: Mayor Rudolph Giuliani retires in three months and can't seek another term. New Yorkers want the rules changed and have him run again. FUND RAISING SPREE: The Red Cross has already raised $129 million in donations, the highest sum ever raised by the organisation after any disaster. FEAR OF FLYING: When flights resumed, only 40 per cent of the seats were filled. Trains and buses had a flood of passengers. INTO THE TRENCHES: TV companies are drawing up plans and allocating budgets for the live coverage of a possible war in Afghanistan.

On September 15, the day after normal air traffic resumed, Chicago's O'Hare airport saw the biggest queues in its history. People started coming in at 5 a.m. for an 11 a.m. flight and even then barely made it past the check-in and security counters. Grounded passengers were eager to go home, even if companies like American Airlines-two of its planes were hijacked on September 11-found it hard to convince cabin crew to go back to duty.

A week after the "Day of Infamy", airports were deserted. At La Guardia, in the heart of New York, taxi drivers twiddled their thumbs as near empty planes released no passengers. The Air Transport Association admitted only 40 per cent of seats were being filled. Others thought even that figure was an exaggeration. In the aviation industry, stretching from the major airlines to aircraft maker Boeing, there was talk of laying off 1,00,000 employees. In the Mecca of private enterprise, the Government was approached for a $24 billion bailout. In midtown Manhattan, a budget hotel's manager simply couldn't believe it. Occupancy had fallen to zero per cent. The week before September 11, it had been 98 per cent.

Like its stock indices, America's heartbeat is forever linked to sentiments. In 1918, as World War I drew to a close, a Russian migrant called Irving Berlin wrote a stirring song called God Bless America. Virtually forgotten for 20 years, it came back to Uncle Sam's lips 20 years later, when the Nazi danger beckoned. In the 1980s, Reagan used the phrase to end his speeches. In recent months, Bush borrowed the Reagan practice and reintroduced the phrase to public life. Few paid attention-until the speech on the evening of September 11. Suddenly the song was reborn. From East to West, Midwest to South, Americans have sung God Bless America at operas, baseball games, on the steps of the Capitol, at the recommencement of trading on Wall Street. There are two ways for the renewal of America's contract with God. One, America is ready yet again for a war it believes is just. Two, America, symbol of the ultimate in human ingenuity, is suddenly unsure. In a sense, both are true. America has been stirred-but it has also been shaken.

Constant suspicion, poverty, ill-health and lack of work dog Afghan asylum seekers in India. INDIA TODAY's Principal Correspondent Anna M.M. Vetticad meets some of them.
Living On The Edge