Benazir Bhutto - SZABIST

the American investigative reporter, we wondered what might have happened had we not had that
phone. There were signs of ISI methodology in the Pearl case.
Pakistani military intelligence couldn’t stop us getting into Afghanistan via Iran to cover the flight of
the Taliban. I managed to get home to England again for Christmas, arriving on the morning of
December 25.
It was a shock to go from a land of dust and hunger to an enormous lunch of turkey with all the
trimmings at my parents’ house and a mountain of presents under the tree for Lourenço. I couldn’t
help snapping at him for leaving food on his plate, though I knew he was far too young to understand.
It was clear that the war for Afghanistan was not over – and that the real story was in Pakistan. Again
and again I found myself being drawn back there. The West could send as many troops as it liked into
Afghanistan but if it could not staunch the supply of Taliban fighters from madras-ahs in Pakistan, it
would never resolve the problem. And this was where Benazir came back into the story.
As Pakistan became less and less governable, America began to put pressure on Musharraf to reach a
political accommodation with her in the belief that together they could save the country from
becoming a nuclear-armed Islamist state.
It was never a realistic scenario. Musharraf told me in November 1999, just after he seized power, that
he blamed her more than anyone for the situation Pakistan was in.
“You’re a friend of Benazir’s,” he said. “Well you should know this. More than anyone she had the
brains and the opportunity to change Pakistan and she didn’t do it, instead spending her time making
money. As long as I am here she will never be allowed back into power.”
Having overthrown her twice, and with their project for the resurgence of the Taliban looking
successful, were the military fundamentalists going to let her back a third time?
Benazir and I had made up over the years. She sent us a large crystal bowl for a wedding present and
we often met for lunch near her flat in Kensington during her years in exile.
She said she enjoyed having time to play with her children in Hyde Park but it was clear she was
depressed at seeing her political ambitions wash away, complaining she could not even get meetings
with officials in London and Washington. When she moved from London to Dubai, it seemed as if
much of her time was spent doing yoga and shopping. She had a weakness for chocolate and ice cream
and had put on weight. Her shelves were full of self-help books.
I was in Karachi two months ago when, after long negotiations, she said goodbye to her two anxious
daughters in Dubai and flew home after eight years in exile. Despite the risks she knew she was
taking, I hadn’t seen her look so happy for years. The old fire was in her eyes. She cried as she got off
the plane.
I was the only journalist among about 15 family, political colleagues and friends on the open top of
her campaign bus that night when two bombs went off. We were incredibly lucky to escape. When a
woman tried to steer me towards an ambulance I realised I was covered with the blood of some of the
140 victims.
Benazir survived that attack but it was a brutal awakening to just how much her country had changed
since she had packed her bags and fled to London in 1998. The next evening I sat with her in her small