Ms Bhutto’s Greatest Hits

NOVEMBER 1999 - I must say just when I am beginning to write off the Daughter of the East, sorry West, our very own Ms Bhutto, she pops up like a jill in the box and biffs me in the face with statements that literally leave me gasping for air.

Her latest despatch from London (where else?) tops a career of issuing the most absurd statements per annum. In fact it might be a good idea to nominate her in this silly category. God knows she deserves every bit of it. Having been termed a ‘proclaimed offender’, a title she should add to the many she has held since she has ruled in true dictator fashion over the party of the toiling masses, she has gone to town and lashed out at the current rulers in Pakistan. While we are still reeling from her dire verdict of a ‘civil war’ on the night of 12th October, she now has added more of the same nonsense. On being anointed with her latest crown, the lady having fled the country and refusing to appear in the multiple cases pending against her and that charming short man with the large moustache, she has called the whole thing a farce and the law, draconian. One can agree with her. It is draconian for the likes of her who have had absolutely no hesitation in plundering the country right, left and centre. She still likes to think of herself and chubby-hubby as being honourable people, but she will forgive us if none of us was willing to cross a road with her or her hubby holding our hand. She wants the government to dismiss all charges against her and order a fresh investigation since neither she or hubby were defaulters. But the classic observation that flows from her inspired mind is that by instigating these cases of corruption against her, ‘a crime had been committed against humanity.’

If this is indeed a crime, I am the first one to state that I no longer wish to be a part of Ms. Bhutto’s humanity. Give me the caves, raw meat and a few flint stones and I’ll sing like a lark for the rest of my days. Always big on speeches and emotionally-over loaded statements which she doled out to whoever was within earshot, she has from the safe confines of London, held forth on all the good things that make life such a wonderful experience on this planet. The queen of platitudes has thundered about fundamental rights, liberty, fair trial, fabricated evidence, vendetta, accountability and whatever else she was thinking of yesterday other than Harrods.

It has been the misfortune of this sorry nation to have had Ms Bhutto twice. Actually, it was Ms Bhutto who had them twice and each time without mercy. By the time Bonnie & Clyde were back in Islamabad, they had perfected the fine art of skimming money off everything. There was nothing that they didn’t grab. Deals, contracts, connections, scams, they were into it. Ms Bhutto can talk all she can about her fair name but there is so much corruption that taints her name, it might not be a bad idea were she to change her name altogether. There are many people in this country who still despise Mr. Bhutto and who felt the same way when he was in and when he was out, but whatever ill you hear of the man, corruption hardly ever surfaces. Authoritarian, calculating, power-hungry whatever, but the stink of ill-gotten money is not there. Take the name of his daughter and even the most illiterate country bumpkin will look at the heavens and roll up his eyes in horror. Her ‘defence’ is very much pregnable if you’ll excuse the unfortunate expression. Simply shouting stridently from a plush London apartment is not going to clear your name. As soon as the army took over and there was sadly no civil war for her to capitalise on, she wasted no time in sending the ‘right’ messages to GHQ brokering a safe conduct for herself. When that did not materialise, she went on the warpath.

The problem with the likes of Ms Bhutto and the kind of feudal-bacteria she represents is that they have never given anything but only taken. Her ‘sacrifices’ are nothing compared to the havoc she and her husband wreaked on this poor country. They lived like royalty and threw crumbs to the starving in the name of democracy. Her Camelot had more vultures and vampires in it than any B-grade horror film, yet she rode a white charger and believed she was the best thing that ever happened to this country. The loot she has stashed away is unlikely to ever find its way back – these things are never easy to recover. What the people will do is to wail, grind their teeth and tear their hair out, but will accept it in the end, with the same fortitude they have had to adopt dealing with their masters. What they cannot comprehend and tolerate is that they should also applaud their tainted queen and seek her blessings for the favours she has done them and the sacrifices she has made for them. The people have been insulted time and again and cannot go on being insulted. Islamabad has never understood that the common people are not entirely without common sense. There is only so much hogwash anyone can take and we have been overfed by those who have looted us without mercy.

If you are lost in Model Town Lahore, and ask for directions are, chances are you will be guided by many references to Mian Watoo’s ‘kothi’. It is a kind of a beacon, albeit one made of dirty currency notes. We all know who helped him build that monstrosity from where he emerged with sickening regularity in his starched lily white national dress every day. Now as he makes himself comfortable in a dingy and bare ‘kotli’ with perhaps a rough blanket to ward off the chilly November night, do you think he is feeling sorry he ripped us off? Take my word for it. This is the last thing on his mind. He is already scheming a way out because when you are in, you can’t loot and if you can’t loot, you can’t breathe. His sacrifices for this nation are far too many to be recounted here. As Hasan Nawaz recounted his with Tim Sebastian, ‘my father never picked me up from school’ or the equally priceless, ‘he promised he would attend my convocation,’ you can be forgiven for keeling off the sofa in disbelief. A year back, Hussain Nawaz told visiting and largely servile newsmen in Raiwind, ‘my father personally paid for 5,000 eucalyptus trees that are planted here,’ as proof of their sacrifice for this nation and then looked across at the gathering to receive confirmation of this great act. Such are the sacrifices which allow us to lead our lives in great splendour.

If Ms Bhutto has any iota of respect for this country, she should get real. We can forgive the worst offenders, but I think at the edge of another century, she may forgive us for telling her to take a flying jump in Lake Windermere.