By Amber Darr
On Dec 27, Benazir Bhutto was brutally and tragically murdered. Her death is a national loss, not because of what she may have delivered as a politician but for what she represented. Her image was that of a highly educated and sufficiently westernised and liberal leader who had the potential to free Pakistan from the yoke of military rule and lead it into democracy. Her image was also that of an eastern woman who despite her fragility had the courage to stand up to military dictators and despite her strength had the gentleness to nurture a family. For a country that is fast becoming synonymous with gun-wielding terrorists, her image was important.
It is the loss of this image that the country is mourning and it is for the memory of this image that the Pakistan People's Party will seek the public vote in the upcoming elections. It is therefore imperative not only for making an educated choice in the upcoming elections, but in order to honour the truth about Benazir, to unravel her persona in the wake of her death and to attempt to understand what she stood for, particularly in the run-up to the 2008 elections.
In the months preceding her death, Benazir's image as a democratic leader had been severely tarnished. Although she had advocated democracy, the manner of her return to Pakistan on Oct 18, 2007--after eight years of self-imposed exile--and her subsequent stance on the issue of the independence of judiciary had led critics to believe that her struggle was not for democracy but for power and personal glory. Her return to Pakistan had been made possible only by the highly discriminatory and entirely undemocratic National Reconciliation Ordinance, 2007, which allowed for the withdrawal of all prosecution proceedings pending against her. After her return, her position towards the illegal removal of judges by the government remained dubious. She claimed that the government's treatment of the judiciary, and indeed of the legal community, was an anathema to the rule of law, but she carefully separated the judicial crisis from the issue of participation in the elections.
Her death, however, has forced her critics to re-examine their earlier judgment because suddenly it seems evident that had she been a stooge of the government, she may not have died at the hands of an assassin. The government's subsequent handling of her murder has lent credence to this initial realisation and raises the question that if she had not been towing the establishment line, why did she return to Pakistan under the auspices of the National Reconciliation Ordinance and why did she remain detached from the issue of the independence of the judiciary?
Benazir perhaps knew something that her critics did not appreciate. She understood that the government had orchestrated corruption cases against her to keep her out of Pakistani politics. It was imperative for her to find a mechanism by which the charges against her could be dropped. The National Reconciliation Ordinance -- which was hurriedly promulgated by General Musharraf a day ahead of his presidential election of Oct 6, 2007, and only after he had realised that he had been irreparably weakened in the course of the judicial crisis--achieved that objective. However, had her objective only been to free herself from the charges of corruption, she would not have returned to Pakistan in the face of death threats and would certainly not have persisted in her agenda after the heinous bomb blast in Karachi within hours of her arrival.
If the National Reconciliation Ordinance was a necessary step in the process of her return to Pakistan her studied silence on the issue of the independence of the judiciary was more controversial. The reason most often cited in her lifetime as an explanation for this silence was that a case challenging the National Reconciliation Ordinance had been pending before the pre-Nov 3 judiciary. Benazir could not risk an adverse outcome in that case because her very presence in Pakistan depended on the National Reconciliation Ordinance. An alternative explanation may however be that Benazir was aware of the establishment's antipathy towards her and had been through the political mill for sufficiently long to realise that nothing could be gained by taking on the establishment. Had she opted to champion the cause of the judiciary at the outset, she may have achieved nothing more than a stalemate, taking advantage of which, the Musharraf government could have prolonged the emergency, indefinitely delayed the elections, retained its stranglehold on power and still not reinstated the deposed judges. Her decision to contest the elections ensured that the electoral process would not be derailed, and although it seemed opportunistic at the time, it appears in hindsight to have been merely pragmatic. .
Benazir had struggled against the Zia regime in the '80s. It was a heroic chapter of her life which she recalls at length in her book Daughter of the East written immediately prior to her election as prime minister for the first time. Re-reading that book in the aftermath of her death, it is difficult to believe that she could have suffered a complete change of heart towards military dictators. The disparity between her passionate outrage against the Zia regime then and her more measured dealings with the Musharraf regime now suggests that while the Benazir of the '80s had promise and potential, the Benazir of 2007 had come of age as an astute politician who understood that patience was her strongest ally in her mission to rid Pakistan of a political army.
Had Benazir secured a majority in the elections, she may, on the sheer strength of her popularity, have succeeded in ensuring that she became prime minister for the third time. Once she had regained her foothold in power she would, in all likelihood, have cast off the appearance of a compromise with the establishment, and particularly with General Musharraf. She may then have reaffirmed her deep-rooted ideological and personal opposition to the army in politics.
The establishment perhaps understood this and mistrusted, her despite her carefully crafted public statements in which she took care not to challenge the status quo. What she may have achieved, had she lived, is ultimately a matter of speculation: it is difficult to ascertain whether she would indeed have led Pakistan into true democracy as she promised or succumbed to the dynastic impulse demonstrated in her bequest of the office of chairperson of the Pakistan People's Party to her husband and 19-year-old son Bilawal. It is certain, however, that in her death, as in her life, she will remain a force for dictators to reckon with and will continue to be honoured by the citizens of Pakistan as a person who dared to reach out to them against all odds.
The writer is a barrister practising in Islamabad. Email: amber.darr@gmail.com
On Dec 27, Benazir Bhutto was brutally and tragically murdered. Her death is a national loss, not because of what she may have delivered as a politician but for what she represented. Her image was that of a highly educated and sufficiently westernised and liberal leader who had the potential to free Pakistan from the yoke of military rule and lead it into democracy. Her image was also that of an eastern woman who despite her fragility had the courage to stand up to military dictators and despite her strength had the gentleness to nurture a family. For a country that is fast becoming synonymous with gun-wielding terrorists, her image was important.
It is the loss of this image that the country is mourning and it is for the memory of this image that the Pakistan People's Party will seek the public vote in the upcoming elections. It is therefore imperative not only for making an educated choice in the upcoming elections, but in order to honour the truth about Benazir, to unravel her persona in the wake of her death and to attempt to understand what she stood for, particularly in the run-up to the 2008 elections.
In the months preceding her death, Benazir's image as a democratic leader had been severely tarnished. Although she had advocated democracy, the manner of her return to Pakistan on Oct 18, 2007--after eight years of self-imposed exile--and her subsequent stance on the issue of the independence of judiciary had led critics to believe that her struggle was not for democracy but for power and personal glory. Her return to Pakistan had been made possible only by the highly discriminatory and entirely undemocratic National Reconciliation Ordinance, 2007, which allowed for the withdrawal of all prosecution proceedings pending against her. After her return, her position towards the illegal removal of judges by the government remained dubious. She claimed that the government's treatment of the judiciary, and indeed of the legal community, was an anathema to the rule of law, but she carefully separated the judicial crisis from the issue of participation in the elections.
Her death, however, has forced her critics to re-examine their earlier judgment because suddenly it seems evident that had she been a stooge of the government, she may not have died at the hands of an assassin. The government's subsequent handling of her murder has lent credence to this initial realisation and raises the question that if she had not been towing the establishment line, why did she return to Pakistan under the auspices of the National Reconciliation Ordinance and why did she remain detached from the issue of the independence of the judiciary?
Benazir perhaps knew something that her critics did not appreciate. She understood that the government had orchestrated corruption cases against her to keep her out of Pakistani politics. It was imperative for her to find a mechanism by which the charges against her could be dropped. The National Reconciliation Ordinance -- which was hurriedly promulgated by General Musharraf a day ahead of his presidential election of Oct 6, 2007, and only after he had realised that he had been irreparably weakened in the course of the judicial crisis--achieved that objective. However, had her objective only been to free herself from the charges of corruption, she would not have returned to Pakistan in the face of death threats and would certainly not have persisted in her agenda after the heinous bomb blast in Karachi within hours of her arrival.
If the National Reconciliation Ordinance was a necessary step in the process of her return to Pakistan her studied silence on the issue of the independence of the judiciary was more controversial. The reason most often cited in her lifetime as an explanation for this silence was that a case challenging the National Reconciliation Ordinance had been pending before the pre-Nov 3 judiciary. Benazir could not risk an adverse outcome in that case because her very presence in Pakistan depended on the National Reconciliation Ordinance. An alternative explanation may however be that Benazir was aware of the establishment's antipathy towards her and had been through the political mill for sufficiently long to realise that nothing could be gained by taking on the establishment. Had she opted to champion the cause of the judiciary at the outset, she may have achieved nothing more than a stalemate, taking advantage of which, the Musharraf government could have prolonged the emergency, indefinitely delayed the elections, retained its stranglehold on power and still not reinstated the deposed judges. Her decision to contest the elections ensured that the electoral process would not be derailed, and although it seemed opportunistic at the time, it appears in hindsight to have been merely pragmatic. .
Benazir had struggled against the Zia regime in the '80s. It was a heroic chapter of her life which she recalls at length in her book Daughter of the East written immediately prior to her election as prime minister for the first time. Re-reading that book in the aftermath of her death, it is difficult to believe that she could have suffered a complete change of heart towards military dictators. The disparity between her passionate outrage against the Zia regime then and her more measured dealings with the Musharraf regime now suggests that while the Benazir of the '80s had promise and potential, the Benazir of 2007 had come of age as an astute politician who understood that patience was her strongest ally in her mission to rid Pakistan of a political army.
Had Benazir secured a majority in the elections, she may, on the sheer strength of her popularity, have succeeded in ensuring that she became prime minister for the third time. Once she had regained her foothold in power she would, in all likelihood, have cast off the appearance of a compromise with the establishment, and particularly with General Musharraf. She may then have reaffirmed her deep-rooted ideological and personal opposition to the army in politics.
The establishment perhaps understood this and mistrusted, her despite her carefully crafted public statements in which she took care not to challenge the status quo. What she may have achieved, had she lived, is ultimately a matter of speculation: it is difficult to ascertain whether she would indeed have led Pakistan into true democracy as she promised or succumbed to the dynastic impulse demonstrated in her bequest of the office of chairperson of the Pakistan People's Party to her husband and 19-year-old son Bilawal. It is certain, however, that in her death, as in her life, she will remain a force for dictators to reckon with and will continue to be honoured by the citizens of Pakistan as a person who dared to reach out to them against all odds.
The writer is a barrister practising in Islamabad. Email: amber.darr@gmail.com
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