According to Kapil Komireddi in these very pages, the demise of Pakistan is "inevitable" because it has since foundation been a source of division and extremism. This is not a new argument. Virtually every western analyst, now happily joined by a chorus of Indian observers mysteriously bereft of regional contexts and history, believes that the Pakistan state, as opposed to merely extremists within its borders, is the single greatest threat to international peace and security.

On paper, there is much to support this line of thinking. Pakistan is, after all, a highly mismanaged, corrupt developing state that has fostered religious extremism for decades while continuing to build a formidable nuclear arsenal. The prospect of the Taliban getting its hands on Pakistan's nukes is the stuff of nightmares, and Dick Cheney's dreams. It is hard to think of a more frightening scenario.

With the exception of North Korea, no nuclear-armed nation is as scrutinised as Pakistan. Yet nuclear proliferation is on the rise worldwide. According to the Pentagon, Pakistan is expanding its nuclear arsenal more quickly than any other country. But India is not far behind and, along with China, Russia and the United States, is busy improving the size and quality of its weapon delivery systems.

On closer reflection, the idea that the Pakistan state is inherently dangerous turns out to be a lazy mantra used by those who wish to ignore history and avoid a more complicated reality.

A nation state is a rather nebulous concept at the best of time. But when a state as hurriedly created (in 1947), poorly managed and with as many centres of power as Pakistan is in question, it becomes difficult to establish diabolical intent, though not impossible.

Pakistan society is as divided as it is diverse, and its elites reflect these traits. Within the army, the most powerful institution in the country, there are careerists, Islamists and khaki businessmen more consumed with wealth accumulation via shady army welfare trusts than nuclear jihad. That is not to say the army is incapable of Machiavellian strategies. For decades, it has looked to install a pro-Pakistan regime in Afghanistan.

Following the war with the Soviets in Afghanistan, and generous encouragement of the US and Saudi Arabia, the army looked to radical Islamists to fulfil this role. It is also true that much of Pakistani society, including the army, has a pathological fear of India-engineered oblivion. Even now there are strong suggestions the army is supporting anti-India militancy in Kashmir.

Along with commentators such as Komireddi, the US has routinely and very publicly criticised Pakistan for refusing to shift the lion's share of its troops stationed along the border with India (most of them are in Kashmir).

It is true that the army has been slow to react to the Taliban insurgency within Pakistan. Only last month did it finally decide to mount decisive action against Taliban encroachment in the country, and this after years of reaching peace agreements that saw the insurgents move into as much as 11% of the country.

But these sobering details do not an evil empire make.

Spare a thought for the Indian army. As the security analyst Farrukh Saleem wrote recently:

The Pakistan army looks at the Indian army and sees its 6,384 tanks ... 672 combat aircraft ... its six out of 13 Indian corps that are strike corps ... [all] pointing their guns at Pakistan ... deployed to cut Pakistan into two halves. The Pakistan army looks at the Taliban and sees no Arjun main battle tanks, ... no 155mm Bofors howitzers, no Akash surface-to-air missiles, no BrahMos land attack cruise missiles, no Agni intermediate range ballistic missiles, no Sukhoi Su-30 MKI air superiority strike fighters, no Jaguar attack aircraft, no MiG-27 ground-attack aircraft, no Shakti thermonuclear devices, no Shakti-II 12 kiloton fission devices and no heavy artillery.

This year alone, India will spend close to $40bn (US) on its armed forces, up to eight times as much Pakistan. It has fought four major wars with Pakistan and, in each, matched its much smaller rival in bellicosity and provocation.

Such facts do not to absolve Pakistan's army of responsibility for stifling militancy. But to consider Pakistan's role in creating the instability currently engulfing the subcontinent without considering India is like studying the Cuban missile crisis without reference to American warheads pointed towards the then Soviet Union.

And therein lies the problem for so many Indians and Pakistanis. Lost in the west's division between good and bad third-world citizens, many have become blind to their country's own ills. It was in India, after all, that a pogrom arranged by fanatical Hindu groups assisted by the Gujarat government led to the murder of thousands of Muslims and Christians.

Fascism has an old pedigree in India – the anti-British nationalist Subhash Chandra Bose, who fought with the Japanese against Her Majesty's forces during the second world war, marvelled at Hitler's reinvigoration of the German state. At the last Indian elections, the fascist Bajrang Dal and Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh parties openly lobbied on a Hindu supremacist platform. The reflections with the Taliban could not be clearer.

Many in Pakistan still refuse to accept that there is homegrown extremism in their country. They remain convinced that Indian, Israeli or American agencies (or all three in collusion) are stoking the flames of extremism to discredit Pakistan because it is the only Muslim nation with nuclear weapons. All the while, Pakistani school children continue to be fed lies about Indian designs over the country and the virtues of Pakistan's historically inept army.

For Indians, as for Pakistanis, the tired routine of pointing the finger across the border has served little other purpose than to deflect attention away from the very pressing problems at home. The sad irony is that India and Pakistan still share much the same tribulations some six decades after they were sliced apart.