In its short history of coups, wars and heads of state being toppled by
everything from execution to a mysterious air-crash, Pakistan has learnt to
expect the unexpected. But among all the myriad scenarios discussed when
Benazir Bhutto flew home last year after eight years in exile, nobody
predicted the one where the inconvenient husband ends up running the country.
Under a deal hatched in Washington and Whitehall, Bhutto was supposed to
become prime minister to General Pervez Musharraf’s president, as the best
hope for stopping the flow of militants into Afghanistan. Less than 11
months on, neither Bhutto nor Musharraf is on the scene, one tragically
killed and the other humiliated into resignation.
Instead yesterday’s presidential elections saw Asif Ali Zardari, Pakistan’s
most controversial figure, overwhelmingly voted in as head of state.
Long reviled as Mr Ten Per Cent, the 53-year-old whose favourite film is The
Godfather will now take centre stage as he is sworn in as the country’s most
powerful president.
“Not even a novelist with the most fertile imagination could have come up with
this one,” said Amir Mateen, one of Pakistan’s leading columnists.
“Nobody could have imagined this a year ago,” agreed Makhdoom Amin Fahim, who
led the Pakistan People’s party (PPP) for Bhutto while she was in exile and
is still its parliamentary leader. “It wasn’t even a nightmare.”
Zardari himself describes as “the joker in the pack” his wife’s will, which
handed into his care the party that had for so long frozen him out. When the
will was read out after Bhutto’s assassination last December, Zardari
insisted to journalists that he was “not interested in any post”.
“I see myself as a Sonia Gandhi advisory figure, but without the seat in
parliament,” he told me, referring to the role taken on by the widow of
Rajiv Gandhi after his assassination. “The important thing is to focus on
building up the party.”
When elections in February saw the PPP emerge as the largest party, Zardari
named a prime minister of his choosing. However, last month he decided being
the power behind the scenes was not enough. Within days of ousting Musharraf
by threatening to impeach him, Zardari had torn up an agreement with his
coalition partner, the former prime minister Nawaz Sharif, to support a
nonpartisan candidate, and declared himself.
Those around Zardari say he was persuaded to stand because of security
threats, not least from within Pakistan’s own military establishment, which
he believes killed his wife. He has spent the past two weeks hiding in the
basement of the prime minister’s house. “After Benazir he is the next
target,” said one government minister. “Being president is the only way we
can give him the protection he needs.”
Others point out that the presidency is the one post in the Pakistan
administration that does not require the holder to disclose his assets.
Swiss authorities have just released millions of dollars of Zardari’s assets
that had been frozen in 1997 after the Pakistan authorities claimed it was
from kickbacks on government contracts.
Zardari, who denies any wrongdoing, claims the amount is nowhere near the $60m
cited by Swiss officials and that he would give $30m to anyone who could
prove it was.
He himself describes his ascent to the presidency as “revenge for Benazir’s
killing” and insists it was the only way to guarantee that the PPP
government would be “in power, not just in office”. Under a notorious
constitutional amendment introduced by military dictators, Pakistan’s
president has the power to sack governments. This is how Bhutto’s own two
governments met their early demise.
“Democracy means full democracy: either I’m a democracy or I’m not,” he told
me on the eve of ousting Musharraf. “I’m not a democracy when Mush is still
sitting there.”
Pakistanis from Karachi to the Khyber are fearful that Zardari might use his
new-found power to seek revenge of another form. In Bhutto’s autobiography
she described him as “a friend’s friend and an enemy’s enemy”.
He has already shown his ruthlessness by sidelining Amin Fahim, who led the
negotiations to bring Bhutto back to Pakistan, was on the truck in Karachi
which was bombed on the day of her return, and was sitting next to her in
the car where she was killed. Promised by Zardari that he would be named
prime minister, he now sits alone in his parliamentary lodgings, thinking of
what might have been.
“I’ve given my life to the party,” he said. “The PPP’s first national
convention was in my father’s house, my brothers were jailed, our people
killed. Not a single minister has called me since being sworn in, and they
won’t take my calls because they are afraid if they talk to me they will
lose their jobs.”
He added: “Zardari is the luckiest man in the world. He got everything on a
platter – the party, the government, a prime minister of his own choosing
and now president. Let’s see what he does with it. The impression people
have of him is not a happy one.”
Among the most apprehensive are Zardari’s own inlaws. Ghinwa Bhutto, the
beautiful Palestinian widow of Bhutto’s estranged younger brother Murtaza,
and their children Fatima, a writer, and Zulfikar Jr, an A-level student,
live at Pakistan’s most famous address: 70 Clifton was the Karachi house of
Bhutto’s father, Zulfikar, who founded the PPP and went on to become
Pakistan’s first elected prime minister. It is where Bhutto and Zardari
married in 1987.
Not far away is the street where Murtaza was killed in a bizarre gun-fight
with police in 1996 while his sister was prime minister. He and Zardari had
been rivals, and when Bhutto was removed from power, Zardari was charged
with involvement in his killing, one of a range of charges for which he was
jailed. He was never convicted and was formally acquitted in April this year.
Sitting in the office, surrounded by leather-bound albums of state visits,
Ghinwa and Fatima were fearful of openly speaking against Zardari, but
talked about their worries for the future.
“We remember the targeted killings, the corruption mixed with murder of their
last government in the 1990s,” said Fatima. “It’s not that long ago.”
“I’m very worried about my children’s security,” said Ghinwa. “I have asked
the government for protection but they have refused. My son is particularly
vulnerable. He’s the real male Bhutto heir. There are very difficult, dark
days ahead.”
Fatima points out that Shoaib Suddle, the most senior policeman present on the
night of her father’s death, has been made head of the Intelligence Bureau
by Zardari’s government. “It looks like a reward, so one has a right to feel
threatened,” she says.
Zardari’s rivals within the Bhutto clan are not the only ones worried about
the concentration of powers in his hands. “I fear a return to the politics
of revenge of the 1980s and 1990s,” said Senator Mushahid Hussain, one of
the two candidates who ran against him for president.
Already there are worrying signs. Shortly after Sharif announced he was
quitting the coalition because of Zardari’s failure to fulfil pledges to
restore judges sacked by Musharraf and agree a joint presidential candidate,
the National Accountability Bureau was reported to be reopening a corruption
case against him. The government denied the report, but it was interpreted
as a warning sign.
Zardari spent 11 years in jail on charges of which he was never convicted and
advisers claim he is a different man. “He’s changed,” said Sherry Rehman,
the information minister. “He’s been through trial by fire both in terms of
prison and his wife’s death.”
His media team are eager to portray him as what they call “a man of the
federation”. In the wake of Bhutto’s murder, he halted protests that had
seen banks and government offices burnt down across her home province of
Sindh, leading some to fear that the country could break up.
Zardari might be known more for his polo-playing skills than political nous,
but that was one of a series of shrewd moves he has made in recent months.
Friends say he learnt from his wife and read widely in jail. Others are
sceptical. “I think he read Machiavelli’s Prince,” said Mahmood Shaam,
editor of Jang.
Waiting in the wings for Zardari to make a slip is Sharif, the former prime
minister, whose Muslim League now forms the main opposition party. Although
he says he feels “sad and betrayed” by Zardari, he vows: “We won’t
destabilise the government. The country is too vulnerable.”
His fear is that if it all falls apart there will not be another election, but
a return to the army, which has ruled the country for more than half its
61-year history. “It all depends on how the politicians behave,” said one
general. “The Pakistan army is like a beautiful black stallion. Ride it and
it will serve you well. Kick it and it will buck.”
