Benazir Bhutto grew from an exceptional college student to a
world personality in what seemed like a matter of minutes. She
rushed to the role of Pakistani leader after the execution of her
father with all the confidence her family’s vast support system
could muster, personally and politically.
When she exiled herself to Dubai in 1998 just before the
military coup the next year, she continued to operate behind the
scenes through her political instrument, the Pakistan Peoples
Party. Her influence remained strong even though she was convicted
in absentia of corruption.
As shocking as it is, it was hardly surprising she was
assassinated. Ever since Benazir Bhutto became prime minister at
age 35, she was outspoken in defense of democracy in Pakistan;
though many said she was primarily interested in maintaining the
ascendancy of her own political allies. The problem she faced was
not only the entrenched traditional power of the military, but the
equally powerful opposing tradition of civilian political
corruption.
Bhutto’s defenders always have been quick to point out that any
corruption with which she was later tainted was not of her doing.
Her husband was the bad guy and did the jail time, to be given
early release by Musharraf in 2004. It was a debt she owed to the
general that wasn’t publicly discussed much. She was characterized
as the tool of a system that required vast sums of money to aid in
the democratic process. Her family’s powerful economic and
political role in her native province of the Sindh was offered as
an explanation of her many advantages.
Others, including most of Pakistan’s military hierarchy, saw
these “advantages” as simply an extension of her father’s
questionable dealings while in office.
The fact is that all parties in the country regularly charge
each other with “stealing from the people.” It’s a mantra of
political office seekers in Pakistan, and in many cases contains a
great deal of truth.
THE BIG QUESTION has been why Bhutto, safe and secure in various
homes she owned in the U.K. and the Gulf, would want to return to
the turmoil of her homeland.
Some said she was driven by patriotism and a commitment to
democracy. Others cynically said she simply was exercising the
droit du seigneur so typical of the privileged classes
throughout South Asia who expect power as their natural
inheritance.
That Benazir Bhutto carried herself as a queen was not disputed.
She was nonetheless extremely smart and a considerably practiced
politician. Her regal manner was well supported and earned; all of
which lent justification to the opposing characterizations of both
her enemies and followers.
Perhaps the most striking characteristic of this lady was her
personal warmth. This style was commented on by journalists and the
numerous foreign politicians with whom she came into contact over
the years. She could work a room of European and American leaders
like the pro she was.
Afterward she would buttonhole a targeted politico whose support
she desired and charm him or her one-on-one. She knew her job and
how to do it.
If Bhutto had a shortcoming — and she did have a few — it was
that she had a tendency to give everyone she wanted to please the
impression that they had her complete agreement on key issues. This
was particularly true of important people within her rather large
Western social circle. They thought that the lady was not for
turning, but, often, analysts found the opposite was true.
Along with the fashionable haute monde of the foreign
policy elite, certain American and European journalists were
favored with her attention. None of the latter ever forgot, at
least initially, to call her “madam prime minister.” Some select
female correspondents, though, were drawn into her confidence on a
first name basis. She had considerable media savvy.
She died as she expected — at the hand of an assassin. One
wonders if she actually sought martyrdom or simply had no way to
avoid it. Her death will convulse Pakistan once again and the
military will once again have to step in. She must have known that
would be the case, too.
