The Bhutto Exposé -- Book Review

By Amir Zia
Newsline June 2010

Book -- Songs Of Blood And Sword
The Bhuttos – undoubtedly the most charismatic, controversial and tragedy-prone political dynasty of Pakistan – never fail to amaze and fascinate the public. You may love them, you may hate them, but you cannot ignore them. So when Fatima Bhutto writes a book, and that too about her family, it is bound to stir excitement and ruffle some feathers.

Songs of Blood And Sword: A Daughter’s Memoir is Fatima’s tribute to her father Murtaza, who was assassinated, along with six associates, by the police in a controversial encounter in September 1996. What made this murder more bizarre and eerie was the fact that Fatima Bhutto’s aunt Benazir, whom she refers to as “Wadi bua,” was the prime minister at the time. Fatima has not forgotten this fact nor forgiven her aunt.

If Murtaza is the hero of this book, Benazir and her husband Asif Zardari emerge as its villains. The betrayal of PPP’s political ideals and BB’s failure to provide an honest leadership is a recurring theme of this book and Asif Ali Zardari is portrayed in an equally negative light.The events of the night when Murtaza was assassinated, at a stone’s throw from his house, sheds light on their estranged relationship: “‘Hello? Wadi?’ I said … ‘No, she can’t come to the phone right now,’ came the reply. It was Zardari. It was no secret that none of us in the family liked Asif Zardari, my aunt’s oleaginous husband… ‘I need to talk to her,’ I insisted, my voice quickening … ‘She can’t speak, she’s hysterical,’ Zardari replied. As if on cue, there was a loud wailing sound in the background. It had been quiet before, with no indication that anyone was in the room with Zardari, and all of a sudden there was an almost desperate crying shattering the silence. … ‘Oh, don’t you know?’ Zardari responded. Your father’s been shot.”

Fatima has pronounced her verdict on Benazir – a verdict that will annoy Benazir’s many admirers. It is not the judgment of a historian or a political analyst, but the rantings of a niece who felt terribly let down and betrayed by her beloved aunt.

A very public feud between Murtaza and his sister Pinky (Benazir) is described in vivid detail. Fatima is looking at Benazir from her father’s eyes; ostensibly he was angry that his elder sister made what he saw as “shameful” political comprises and “unholy alliances” in her ascent to power. All this, coupled with stories of corruption and kickbacks, was seen as going against the creed of the patriarch of the family Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, who was hanged to death on controversial murder charges by former military dictator General Zia-ul-Haq, who emerges as the other big villain in Fatima’s book.

Fatima weaves the case against her “Wadi” skilfully – from her brief encounters with Benazir in their days in exile in Syria, to the return of her father to Pakistan to run for elections. Benazir was in power at the time when the firing incident involving the police at Al-Murtaza, her father’s residence in Larkana, took place. Fatima quotes from an interview given by Nusrat Bhutto to The New York Times soon after in which she says, “She (Benazir) tells a lot of lies, this daughter of mine.” The arrest and torture of Murtaza’s loyalists and finally his own murder – all the events took place at a rapid pace and the details make for an interesting read.

As a writer, Fatima is a good narrator, giving readers a glimpse into the lives of the Bhutto family – from her great-great grandfather Murtaza to her grandfather Zulfikar. The often-repeated saga of the Bhutto family has been presented from the perspective of a young generation Bhutto.

Murtaza, the hero of the book, had all the characteristics of a Bhutto – he was flamboyant, at times recklessly adventurous, romantic, devoted to the family and, above all, political. He was a product of the times when Che Guevara and his guerrilla movement ruled the minds and hearts of many youngsters, children of Pakistan’s elite, and Chairman Mao’s Chinese revolution held great romantic appeal for young revolutionaries.

The author’s treatment of her father conjures an image that is far removed from his public persona of a ‘terrorist.’ Fatima gives details of her father’s days in exile – as a young college student campaigning for his father’s release through legal and political means and then his stint in Afghanistan to organise an armed resistance.

Fatima has triggered controversy by claiming that Murtaza and Shahnawaz went to Afghanistan on Zulfikar’s advice. This version has been challenged by Murtaza’s younger sister Sanam as well as his cousin Tariq Islam. Given the number of books and material available on Murtaza’s adventures in Afghanistan, including the hijacking of a PIA passenger plane by PPP activists, Fatima’s narration of those times appears naïve – but that was to be expected as this is a daughter’s memoir of a father she truly adored. So all his sins of commission and omission are overlooked. But Fatima is not so charitable to her biological mother, Fauzia, who Murtaza met and married in Afghanistan. Their relationship appears to have broken down irretrievably. In fact, she expresses fear of Fauzia, especially when she tried to take custody of Fatima years later.

Murtaza’s intense affair with a Greek woman, Della Roufogalis, who was eight years older than him and was the wife of a Greek general languishing in jail at that time, has also been described in vivid detail. Della appears in the book as a story-teller, revealing many hidden episodes of Murtaza’s eventful life.

The anchor role that Ghinwa, Murtaza’s second wife, played in the life and politics of Murtaza and his children has been described with love and affection. The author repeatedly refers to Ghinwa as “mother,” revealing the inner dynamics of the family feud that have long centred on Murtaza’s choice of second wife. In fact the book has been dedicated to Ghinwa and to ‘Joonam’ (Nusrat Bhutto), who Fatima says always remains with her (in spirit), despite the distance created between them.

As a writer, Fatima appears to be at her best when discussing her family. She gives small but important details about the famous and not-so-famous members of her family, their hopes and fears, their intricate relationships and their bond with each another, as well as the many traumatic times the Bhutto family has been through. It is when she is discussing the political landscape of the country that Fatima falters; she makes many sweeping and superficial remarks that stand out like a sore thumb in an otherwise well-narrated and well-knit book.

Songs of Blood and Sword is an important addition to the growing number of books on the Bhuttos because it is an insider’s account and is bold and frank. The story has been told as honestly as a daughter can tell it. One can argue about, differ on and criticise the account and interpretation of many events, which happens in the case of all politically loaded writing, but one cannot ignore this book. It is a must-read for anyone interested in the Bhuttos, their politics, life and times – all of which are so intricately interwoven with the overall fabric of Pakistani politics.

The Media’s Love Affair

By Amir Zia
Newsline, May 2010

Along with providing news and information, perspective and analysis, many of our news channels seem to have also taken upon themselves the heavy burden of entertainment, which was once the domain of performers. News bulletins and current affairs shows now rule the roost and have overshadowed television dramas and casual talk shows as a primary source of entertainment. Brazenly sensational, blatantly melodramatic and at times outlandishly comical, the bulletins and talk shows are considered to be a huge success, attracting eyeballs and competing for crucial ratings – a lifeline for the flow of advertisements.

One manifestation of this debacle is the manner in which many of our news channels covered the Shoaib Malik-Sania Mirza love affair – ‘Shoania’ as they came to be known. From the very news of their engagement and the controversy about Malik’s marriage to Ayesha Siddiqa of Indian origin to misspellings of names on the nikahnama and wedding cards and the actual wedding day itself to the detailed travel plans and the series of valima receptions for the couple – the entire coverage has been treated as a tacky soap opera by most of our country’s leading news channels.

It is no wonder that the terror attack in northern Pakistan claiming more than 40 lives was forgotten in the media frenzy as news of this engagement flashed in red over and over again as breaking news. And this series of non-stop breaking news and exclusives continue even as the wedding coverage ‘subsides.’ We should thank our stars that both Shoaib and Sania are not among the top five or 10 in the ranking of their respective games. One can only guess what many of our news channels would have done in that case.

From the issuance of boarding cards to graphic details of the bathroom of the hotel where the couple planned to stay in Lahore, every teeny weeny bit was treated worthy of making headlines around the country. This is what we call redefining television journalism, Pakistani style.

Seasoned anchors pushed guest politicians on their shows to comment on this union and its impact on Pakistan-India relations. Will it help bring the people of these two countries closer? Should there be more such marriages for peace in the region? And while some of the politicians tried to answer the questions seriously, others understandably dodged the unwarranted questions.

Now, many media stalwarts treat news and current affairs shows as entertainment platforms, and package their content with music, dance, blood, and gore. Unfortunately, in the case of the Shoaib-Sania affair, even objective news bulletins strayed from their purpose and distastefully embedded dramatic Indian music and footage to spice up the imprudent coverage of this rather inconsequential love affair. Going by the coverage priorities and treatment of news by these channels, it seems that all journalistic ethics and conventions were flushed down the drain.

In the rat race for ratings, yellow journalism reigned supreme and dominated our screens. The Pakistani paparazzi proved as good (or bad, depending on which side of the fence one stands) as their international counterparts when it came time to go for the kill. Poor Shoaib and Sania were thrust on the viewers; no wonder many felt nauseated.

The artificial fervour and hype created by channels over this wedding was as though the protracted Kashmir issue with India has been resolved, or that the dark spectre of extremism and terrorism was defeated once and for all. This overblown and magnified coverage of a celebrity couple’s marriage might have been justified in a country where there is no other news. But in a country caught in the vortex of political instability, terrorism and poverty, it can hardly be justified. Entertainment, light stories and even celebrity scandals remain an integral part of content, even for news channels, but the frivolous should not sweep away the important socio-political, economic and law and order issues. Ironically, that is what happened in the coverage of Shoaib and Sania’s affair.

Journalism – yes, even electronic journalism – is all about objectivity, fairness, accuracy and a sense of proportion. These traits remain its guiding principles, and should not be lost. Many of the channels need to rethink their news agendas and reset their priorities. Pakistani viewers deserve better television, as it is not their privilege, but their right.

Musharraf's second coming

By Amir Zia
Saturday, June 19, 2010
The News

Former president Pervez Musharraf's loyalists have started assembling under the banner of the All-Pakistan Muslim League (APML)–the latest addition to the ever-growing number of political parties in this polarised and politically divided country. However, the APML has been launched more with a whimper than a bang. So far, even those political heavyweights who were once close to Musharraf have stayed away from its ranks. It is the duo of Barrister Mohammed Ali Saif and Gen (r) Rashid Qureshi who are its most prominent faces.

For Musharraf, the loyalty of these two may be a source of solace, but in the world of electoral politics, their reach and effectiveness in organising and introducing a new platform remain questionable. Musharraf's fan following on Facebook may be in the tens of thousands, but when it comes to running a political party it is the team that matters. And Musharraf's team seemsed wanting at the launch. Even some of his aides termed the event a "soft-launch."

It is not just the apparent absence of a strong team which should be a matter of concern for Musharraf; it is the changed ground realities that will be the real challenge for him if he decides to return and take part in politics. After all, it is one thing to rule the country for almost a decade as an all-powerful army chief or president and a totally different thing to be an underdog. The experience can be traumatic.

Will Musharraf be able to take the heat and sustain the pressure in the presence of formidable opponents such as Nawaz Sharif and the militant groups backed by Al Qaeda and the Taliban which would be breathing down his neck? And that's not all–the judges of the superior courts will now be free to dispense justice. Meanwhile, the media would like to have its pound of flesh. Indeed, Musharraf will be walking through a political minefield if he really decides to return. Without the tactical support of the country's powerful institutions and his foreign friends, even the chances of his remaining afloat would be slim.

Apart from these inherent difficulties which Musharraf is likely to face when he starts his new political journey as a civilian, there are pertinent questions about the vision and scope of his party and its ability to make a difference on the political landscape of Pakistan.

If Musharraf's APML really takes off, will it provide a more democratic and honest leadership? Will its composition be any different from that of the major parties, dominated by feudal lords, powerful tribal chiefs, industrialists and traders? What different social, economic and political agenda will it offer? And, most importantly, will it be more pro-people?

The question of Musharraf's political future is also as important as the role, vision and political dynamics of his APML. At the age of 67 years, what miracles do his followers expect of him, none of which he could perform as the all-powerful military ruler of the country? Many of the choices he made and decisions he took undermined the very vision he announced after seizing power in October 1999. His political journey, which started with promises of restructuring the country's economy, politics and electoral system, is a sorry tale of political expediency and compromises.

No wonder most of Musharraf's legacy proved short-lived–from his desire to keep what he called corrupt politicians out of the ring to his much-trumpeted local bodies system. None could stand the test of times. When he left power, Pakistan was just as fragmented, divided and corrupt as it was before him. Only the level of violence and terrorism had increased despite the fact the Musharraf took the prudent decision of siding with the international community in the US-led war against terrorism.

However, his planned return to the political fray does not appear to be well-thought-out and promising.

Even the name Musharraf chose for his politics–All Pakistan Muslim League–is one of the most misused and abused names in our history. The party which led the independence movement under one of the most upright, honest and incorruptible leaders, Quaid-e-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah, perhaps died with him. And since his death in September 1948, some of Pakistan's most corrupt, opportunistic and undemocratic politicians have used the name of this party to serve their vested interests.

Even now, all the various factions of the Muslim League, including those of Nawaz Sharif, Chaudhary Shujaat Hussain, Sheikh Rashid Ahmed and Pir Pagaro, to name a few, bear no resemblance to the party of the Quaid-e-Azam, which was driven by his vision for Pakistan. Musharraf in his heyday first patronised the PML-Q and then chose it to advance his political career. This is symbolic and reveals a lot about the future of the APML. It is eyeing leaders and workers of the PML-Q, its dissident faction and other smaller parties to build a base.

However, apart from the few third- and fourth-tier politicians who have joined Musharraf's party, the so-called heavyweights appear to be in a wait-and-see-mode despite assurances to the former president of their loyalty.

Musharraf could have a possible role in the larger scheme of things in Pakistani politics if the first- and second-tier politicians, who can beg votes on the basis of their personal strengths, start joining his party with the covert blessings of a section of the Pakistani establishment. But from the way things are developing, there are slim chances of this happening in the near future.

To expect Musharraf to conduct populist politics will be expecting too much of him. The problem is not just the fact that Musharraf's personality is not fit for this kind of politics, the issue is that the times have changed. Now, external factors will play a major role in determining whether he stays relevant or not.

Musharraf's second innings in politics promises to be on a much weaker and uncertain wicket. Does he have the resolve to deliver and make a difference? Enjoying a Facebook following and a large fan club is one thing, but translating it into political action is a different ballgame.