AHMED RASHID IN NAUDERO, AT THE GRAVESIDE OF BENAZIR BHUTTO.
Nearly two weeks after the assassination of Benazir Bhutto, people are still coming in their tens of thousands to condole with her husband Asif Ali Zardari and weep and rage at her graveside.
They come on camels and tractor trolleys, luxury cars and private planes. Like an endless stream the lines of vehicles clog this small village sending up showers of dust that settle on the lush fields of sugar cane. Some have walked the 300 kilometers from
There are Sindhis with their embroidered caps, Punjabis with enormous turbans and fierce looking Pashtun and Baloch tribesmen, as well as Kashmiris and Afghans with their winter caps and Mongols who live close to the Chinese border. In death no other politician in
In the feudal family farm house of Bhutto at Naudero, Zardari sits in the middle of a warren of rooms and courtyards jam packed with mourners. He moves from room to room hugging friends and raising his hands in frequent prayer. The rooms are windowless, built over the years to accommodate the maximum number of supplicants as Bhutto herself was a feudal land lord. Now the walls are covered with pictures of her and her children and people bust into tears looking at them. We are now in the tenth day of the 40 day mourning period prescribed by Islam and the crowds should be thinning out, but there is no sign of that as yet.
As we wait to see Zardari, sitting next to me are one of the countrys top industrialists, senior lawyers and
Since Bhuttos death the Western media has revived Zardaris nickname Mr. Ten Percent, accrued from the commissions he allegedly made in deals when Bhutto was Prime Minister twice in the 1990s. At one point he was immensely disliked in the Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP) but now the same leaders say he is a changed man, more mature, responsible and more humble.
For starters he spent eight years in jail under Musharraf but was never found guilty of any of the charges against him. For many in the PPP he has paid his dues with his excessively long jail term. Not a single Pakistani newspaper has used the nickname since Bhuttos death and the media now hang on Zardaris every word. In the light of his wifes murder, he has been forgiven his sins for the time being at least.
He has said he will guide the PPP up to the elections on February 18 and then take a back seat. The permanent leader of the party is his son Bilawal Bhutto, aged 19 and now in his first year at
Again much criticism has come from the Western media about the dynastic succession and the lack of democracy in the party but in rural Sindh people would accept nothing less than a Bhutto to lead them. Benazir was first and foremost a Sindhi and even if Bilawal is underage, unimpressive and raw he is a Bhutto. Politics across
Zardari escapes with a small group of journalists into his hideaway, a tiny soundproof room which can only seat five people. In a private conservation he unburdens his thoughts and fears for the future. < style=""> them for the first time. Bhutto dictated her orders to them, Zardari says all decisions are being made collectively and through consensus. He says nobody can replace Benazir with her knowledge and experience we need all the brains we can muster to take the right decisions, he says. In every sentence in invokes her name and her memory.
Zardari along with every other Sindhi and perhaps the majority of Pakistanis is convinced that the government, the army and the intelligence services were involved in Benazirs murder. Despite the heated government denials, the bumbling mistakes made by the regime since her death and the total lack of remorse shown by Musharraf and his political partners have only further convinced the public of a conspiracy. Zardari and the PPP insist that nobody had the capacity to carry out such a murder except the state, the so called establishment.
Zardari and the PPP also fear that Musharraf and the military will never allow general elections to take place on 18 February because there will be a landslide sympathy vote for the PPP. All the indications are that he is right.
The ruling Pakistan Muslim League (PML) is in a panic, their leaders dare not come out of their house for fear of crowds beating them up or blaming them for Bhuttos death. Some PML politicians are trying to whip up Punjabi-Sindhi ethnic tensions a sure fire way to get the polls postponed. Nobody rules out more political assassinations either.
Zardari asks, that when Musharraf has done everything possible in the past nine months to stop the PPP juggernaut declared an emergency, suspended the constitution, imprisoned thousands of people, curbed the media and sacked Supreme Court judges how can he now allow free and fair elections.
Equally the military could try and rig the elections but that is more difficult now than it was on the original election date of January 8. Now there is greater public vigilance and much greater hatred for the regime. Zardari does not doubt that the Interservices Intelligence (ISI) will use the next eight weeks to try and break the PPP.
Either way Zardari and the PPP have to find answers and a strategy to deflect all these possibilities. The distraught mourners also expect answers. Beyond the gates of Naudero the stream of people head to the massive mock Moghul tomb three miles away.
Here Benazir is buried next to her beloved father, former Prime Minister Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto who was hanged by the military in 1979. Just four weeks ago she had come to lay a wreath at her fathers grave and is if full of premonitions, had marked out exactly where she wanted to be buried, telling attendants to fence off the area.
There are moving displays of public grief at her graveside, but even more there is boiling public anger. The noise is deafening as men and women walk in together chanting not prayers, but slogans against Musharraf. Two black banners hanging above her grave, say it all. One whispers Benazir the unblemished and innocent, the other cries out, we will take revenge on her killers.
Her grave is covered in a mountain of rose petals outside flower vendors say her death has sucked up all the roses of