Benazir Bhutto - SZABIST

Like all such tragedies, the assassination of Benazir will be open to questions conjecture and rumour.
More then forty years and eight presidents later, the death of JFK remains shrouded in mystery. More
recently the death of Princess Diana is still the subject of conjecture and conflicting “eye witness”
accounts. Benazir’s death — despite the presence of the world’s press, news cameras, thousands of
her supporters, her janesars and a security force provided by the government — is now becoming a
circus of smoke and mirrors.
In life Benazir held out the promise of a moderate democracy — sadly a promise she was unable to
keep. The void left by her untimely death in her party’s hierarchy is now overseen by a triad: her
young son, Bilawal; his father Asif Ali Zardari; and the avuncular Amin Fahim. But it was Mr Zardari
who struck a welcome new note by speaking of the “Federation” from Naudero the other day thereby
immediately setting the pace towards bringing together a fragmented society, a fractious electorate
and a people who till yesterday were suffering from apathy and political fatigue. All that may now
change.
It is wisely said that when a group of people ask questions of others it is called an investigation but
when the people start asking questions of themselves it is called self-examination. The time for that
may have arrived.
If this comes about then it shall be the enduring legacy that Benazir Bhutto would have left behind.
Mahmud Sipra is a best selling author and an independent columnist
A friend’s farewell
Daily Times
January 3, 2008
Rehana Hyder
As worldwide condemnation grows and national outrage erupts, I mourn the tragic loss of a cherished
friend, who happened to be a former and probably future prime minister of Pakistan.
I first met Benazir in 1973 when Begum Nusrat Bhutto and she spent a few days with us in Bonn, my
father being our ambassador there. They were travelling back from the US where they had
accompanied the then Prime Minister Bhutto on his state visit, and Benazir was about to join me at
Oxford. Though I knew my parents were old friends of Mr Zulfikar Ali Bhutto from his student days
at Berkeley and Oxford when they has been posted in our Missions in Washington DC and London in
the late 40's and early 50's. I could not be sure that it would be a difficult experience to look after them
till I made their acquaintance. To my relief, since my mother was away and I was playing hostess,
they were delightful guests, courteous, considerate and good company, and I enjoyed relaxing with
them in the sun room overlooking the Rhine and showing them Beethoven's house in the old Town.
The last time I met her was some years ago at the Sindh Club when I was visiting from abroad and
was able to introduce my son, about whom she always asked, to her. When she arrived in Karachi on
October 18, 2007 I sent her a 'good luck' card saying 'take care' just hours before that evening's bomb
blasts.
Benazir, I saw, possessed a spontaneity surprising in one born to fame, fortune and feudalism. As the
daughter of a prime minister at Harvard and at Oxford she lived and dressed simply but stylishly, was