Islamabad, June 20: Suggest that President Pervez Musharraf has used up at least five of his nine lives and he brushes the thought aside. It may be that the English phrase is unfamiliar to the Pakistani leader; more likely, he realises that you can only die once and there is no point “thinking about such things”.

Yet the list of near-misses is undeniably long. In December last year Pakistan’s military ruler narrowly escaped two concerted assassination attempts in Rawalpindi, a heavily guarded garrison town near the capital, Islamabad. In April 2002 an ambush in Karachi — probably set up by radical hardliners opposed to his crackdown on religious extremists — also failed when a car bomb did not detonate.

There are more, the President recalls. He once decided not to catch an aircraft while returning from northern Pakistan; it crashed. Back in the 1980s, meanwhile, if he had accepted General Zia-ul-Haq’s invitation to be his military secretary, he would have died in the mysterious 1988 crash alongside the last general to seize power in a coup and become Pakistan’s President.

Significantly, we are meeting not in the vast, impersonal presidential palace in Islamabad but in the “Camp Office”, his military bolthole in Rawalpindi.

It is just 10 miles from Islamabad but a world away from the diplomatic dance of the capital.

There, President Musharraf wears a suit, attends functions and dinners, meets and greets foreign VIPs. Here, General Musharraf personally directs Pakistan’s military operations against al Qaida and Taliban fighters in south Waziristan, a lawless tribal area bordering Afghanistan.

Predictably, perhaps, he appears today in the drawing-room of the Camp Office wearing his army uniform. It is a controversial outfit, one that the Commonwealth nations would like him to cast off. Last month, when they voted to readmit Pakistan to full membership after five years in the wilderness following the coup in 1999 in which he seized power, they made it clear that they expected him to step down as the head of the country’s army.

The Commonwealth ministers should brace themselves for disappointment. The President is thinking of defying them. “We will take our decisions in accordance with Pakistan’s dictates, not according to the Commonwealth’s dictates,” he tells me, in the blunt language of the soldier, not the diplomat.

Musharraf suggests that the Commonwealth should acknowledge that greater democracy has been introduced in Pakistan than previously existed.

“They should leave Pakistan alone in deciding on what is the best form of democracy for us, and they should not base our inclusion in the Commonwealth on any future actions of mine.”

He takes a similar stance — courteous but uncompromising — during a wide-ranging discussion of the main issues confronting Pakistan, including terrorism, the search for Osama bin Laden, and democracy. His message is clear: Pakistan is not going to be pushed around by anyone.

Other international allies are more forgiving of the general’s desire to remain in uniform. President Bush upgraded diplomatic relations, formally naming Pakistan as a “major non-Nato ally” in reward for Islamabad’s efforts in fighting al Qaida. It coincided with a major victory in the battle against militants: the death in Waziristan of a troublesome warlord and former Taliban commander, Nek Mohammed, who was accused of sheltering hundreds of foreign fighters.

His death by mortar fire was good news for Musharraf the military ruler — alleviating intense pressure from Washington to tackle militants — but a worry for him as a political leader whose opponents argue that Pakistan is in America’s pocket.

“There is concern domestically with people thinking that we have become the puppet of the US,” he admits. “This is not true. There are many areas where we have followed a different line — for example on nuclear issues and Iraq. But if our interests in handling terrorism are the same as US interests, that is perfectly fine.”

His pledge to remove his uniform was part of a deal to end a stand-off with hardline Islamist opposition politicians who refused to support constitutional changes he had made since 1999 - most important of which was the President’s authority to sack the Prime Minister and national and provincial assemblies.

The agreement, he admits, was made out of expedience. “I will cross that bridge when it needs to be crossed,” he says, adding he has received “many letters and telephone calls from ordinary Pakistanis” alarmed by suggestions that he would surrender his military status.

“The truth is that no one else wants his job,” a Karachi businessman said. “Once he goes, his problems in terms of looking after the country’s interests may be over, but for us they will begin.”