No sporting fixture stirs nationalist sentiment more fervently than India meeting Pakistan at cricket. For half a century, since hundreds of thousands died in the communal violence brought about by partition, the contest has almost been crushed by its political implications, repeatedly twisted and abused to symbolise the respective health of the rival nations.
Today's World Cup Super Six match could not have been staged in south Asia, not when tensions over the disputed territory of Kashmir are again running so high. It is a fixture that survives mainly in cricketing no-man's land: Sharjah, Toronto and now Manchester.
Advance ticket sales make the security challenge facing Old Trafford uncertain. But the political maturity of Britain's Asian communities could conceivably be tested. The Tebbit test about who they support may be a supreme irrelevance, but what is about to become relevant is the manner in which that support is shown.
Recent history does not auger well. No Test series has ever finished in a more eerie atmosphere than that between India and Pakistan in February this year, the first in India for 12 years. Two crowd riots at Eden Gardens within 24 hours - the first, a protest over the run-out of India's Sachin Tendulkar; the second, a hail of stones and bottles as Pakistan approached a series-deciding victory - caused the Calcutta Test to be concluded in an empty stadium. Riots had been commonplace, abandonments were not unknown, but never had a game reached completion with the spectators ejected en masse.
The previous Test in Delhi had taken its place in history. India won in dramatic fashion as Anil Kumble became only the second bowler to take 10 wickets in a Test innings. But before the Test began, it fell prey to the sabotage attempts of extreme right-wing activists of the Shiv Sena party, who dug up the pitch at the Feroz Shah Kotla ground in Delhi, even pre-arranging the arrival of TV camera crews to win maximum publicity for their protests. They followed up by vandalising the offices of the Indian cricket board, smashing the World Cup won by India in 1983 in the process.
It was the events in Calcutta, though, that India found most hard to bear. Indian intellectuals had long taken pride in their country's even-handed appreciation of sport, expressing gratitude that they were largely free from the extreme nationalism that was the bane of their neighbours. It was proof, they argued, of their democratic traditions. Calcutta suggested that the mood was souring. Satellite television and the rise of one-day cricket had fostered a more raucous audience susceptible to propaganda that presented India versus Pakistan matches as something akin to warfare - and there had been three real wars between the countries since independence.
The behaviour of the Old Trafford crowd today may reveal whether British Asians have fostered a broader perspective, or whether their own complex search for a national identity ensures that passions are as readily inflamed.
The assessment of the Indian writer Harsha Bhogle will further sharpen the unease of World Cup organisers as they consider how best to mount the most challenging security operation in a tournament which has already caused much players' unrest over frequent pitch invasions.
Ugra presents India v Pakistan as a "dust-pit wrestle between brothers, with all the emotional baggage that goes with sibling rivalry: affection and admiration in a perpetual grapple with envy, anxiety and the insecurity of not being good enough or even as tough as the other."
In cricket, Pakistan have generally had the upper hand. Kapil Dev, the former Indian captain, credits much of that to religion. "Pakistan have their religion," he said earlier this year. "They motivate themselves to play better as a team. We are a secular team - we cannot use religion because we are so many religions. We have one Sikh player, our captain is a Muslim, there are Hindus, Christians. We motivate ourselves because we play as a country." It should not go unremarked, though, that one of Pakistan's batting stars in this World Cup has been Yousuf Youhana, only the fifth Christian ever to represent them.
Indian insecurities were immediately illustrated by the inaugural one-day international between the two countries in 1978-79. Test series, which began in the early 50s, had been marked by obsessive caution and a large percentage of draws, as both sides feared the pillorying that would inevitably follow defeat. One-day cricket, though, demanded a winner and a loser.
In the deciding match of that inaugural series, in Sahiwal, Bishen Bedi, the Indian captain, conceded the game with India needing 23 runs from 14 balls with eight wickets remaining. Sarfraz Nawaz had bowled four successive bouncers, none of which the Pakistani umpire called as a wide; Bedi could stand it no longer.
When the last World Cup, staged in south Asia, insisted that India and Pakistan must meet in the quarter-final at Bangalore's Chinnaswamy Stadium, the tie was dogged by political opportunism, the provocative pronouncements of Bal Thackeray and his Shiv Sena acolytes suggesting that riots or vandalism were inevitable. Thackeray even adopted his own version of the Tebbit test, pronouncing: "It is the duty of Indian Muslims to prove they are not Pakistanis. I want to see them with tears in their eyes every time India loses to Pakistan."
Mohammad Azharuddin, India's Muslim captain, would have been appalled by such agitation. "Caste, creed and religion are personal things," he said.
The Bangalore quarter-final in 1996 was the first India v Pakistan clash on Indian soil for 10 years. Shiv Sena, recognising that any disruption of a match that held the nation in thrall would amount to political suicide, announced that they would let the game go ahead, but several activists were arrested as a precaution.
Although India won, not everything ran smoothly. By the time the match began, the state government had launched an enquiry into ticket corruption. Police lathi charges to disperse unruly supporters were commonplace.
The shock announcement, 10 minutes before the match, that Wasim Akram was injured and would not be leading Pakistan still has ramifications. Aamir Sohail was furious that he had no prior warning that he might have to lead Pakistan in Wasim's place. Gossip was rife. For the Pakistan government enquiry into match-fixing and illegal betting, the manner of Wasim's withdrawal has been a major point at issue. Wasim, who has led Pakistan with skill and zeal throughout this World Cup, complained at the time of death threats to his wife and family. Judgment upon the betting scandal will be made immediately after the World Cup, with suggestions rife that three Pakistan players have already been found guilty.
Neither side dare contemplate defeat today: India because they would lose the chance of a semi-final place, Pakistan because of the corruption cloud that hangs over their cricket. Stress levels at Old Trafford will be almost unbearable.