Death of Benazir and after
By Kamal A. Munir
WHAT will the death of Benazir Bhutto mean for Pakistani politics? Political pundits are already trying to outguess each other as to what this event will lead to. Much of the discussion is focusing on the ‘inevitable’ consequences of this tragic event. However, the assumption that there is any inevitability associated with such events is a flawed one.
History is usually presented to us in a simple, linear fashion in which particular events are seen to lead to specific outcomes. For instance, the assassination of a particular duke may be understood to have triggered a world war, or the 9/11 attacks on the twin towers seen as precipitating catastrophic consequences for the Afghans. The actual position of events in history is far more complex than is indicated in such linear historical accounts. Events are not given. They are constructed. And how they are constructed determines their consequences.
And so the battle to construct Benazir Bhutto’s death has already begun. For the first 24 hours after her death, it was widely believed that she was shot dead by an unknown assailant who managed to penetrate her security circle, fired three shots and, seconds later, detonated the bomb he was wearing. At the moment of her death, she was waving to her party workers, while bravely exposing herself to any would-be assassin. Such a narrative constructs her as a courageous leader, who put her obligation to party workers above her own life. It automatically hands her the tag of a martyr.
Such a narrative, however, also pits her against certain elements, not least a hostile state which was presumably responsible for her safety. The fact that she was assassinated in Rawalpindi, the heart of the military establishment, further fuels the public resentment against the state. And finally, the fact that the state has lately become synonymous with high-handed tactics against any political opposition lends further credence to this narrative. While Benazir was fighting an election campaign against many opponents, such a discourse identifies only the state and its cronies as responsible for this needless death, while bringing her Pakistan People’s Party closer to its other opponent, the Pakistan Muslim League of Nawaz Sharif.
To counter the obvious implications of such a narrative gaining further ground, the state has now conjured up its own. In an astonishing press conference, more than 24 hours after the killing, a government spokesman categorically claimed that Benazir Bhutto did not receive any bullets in her head or neck. Indeed, she completely escaped all bullets as well as shrapnel from the bomb blast. Her death, it was claimed, was in fact a result of a head injury sustained when she tried to lower herself into her jeep. This was part one of the state’s account. It was presented with pictures of her jeep, a CT scan of her skull and some video footage that was neither here nor there.
In part two, the spokesperson, a retired brigadier of the Pakistan Army, identified the culprit: Baitullah Mehsud, a Pakistani-Taliban military commander based in the tribal areas in the north-west. As evidence he produced a recorded transcript in Pushto, which was supposedly that of Mehsud talking to an accomplice. This transcript was nothing like ordinary phone conversations. It was more like a journalistic piece, conveniently identifying the suicide bombers and their accomplices, details of their mission and in case someone was unsure which side Mehsud was on, his glee at the whole episode.
Here was a radically different construction of the event of Dec 27. Benazir’s death, it suggested, was an unfortunate accident, precipitated by a bungled suicide attempt by an Islamic militant, the same that the government was trying to fight. It beseeched the public to share the state’s perspective — the fight against militants was in everyone’s interest. The angry mobs should vent their fury not on the Q-League and the State but on Islamic militants.
It is likely that the state is not alone in trying to construct and sustain such an account. It is likely that its partners in the war against terror will also support it in sustaining an account that holds Mehsud and his men responsible. However, in order to succeed in producing such an understanding of what really happened on Dec 27, the state needs two things. First and foremost, it needs to plug the gaping holes in its story. For example, how did they know it was Mehsud? Where was the weapon that the shots were fired from? Why was the crime scene cleared away so rapidly, without collecting any forensic evidence?
The body is now buried and so is any chance of a post-mortem. Though the administration has offered an exhumation of the body it is unlikely. Secondly, the state needs credibility. Unfortunately, in the last nine years, it has only managed to lose whatever legitimacy it had to begin with. It faces an uphill battle in convincing the people of its rather far-fetched account, and has probably only managed to dig itself deeper.
The state’s concern is to prevent Benazir from becoming a symbol of resistance against an oppressive army. If Benazir is remembered as the hero, Musharraf will likely be cast as the villain. Whereas in real life Benazir Bhutto was flexible in her beliefs, selective in her memory, and willing to strike the occasional pact for expediency, in her death she will be far more principled.
Whatever its role in this episode, it is possible that the state now wishes that it would rather deal with a living Benazir Bhutto than a dead one. A living Benazir for instance may have gone along with military excursions in Fata and Swat. A dead one might be more reluctant. If so, its best course of action will be to defuse any myths of resistance and struggle that may be forming around Benazir Bhutto, and instead paint a picture which shows her in a more realistic light than lily white. If they are unable to do so, like her father, she will continue to haunt them for generations.
The real battle then will be played out in the media. How the events of Dec 27 come to be implicated in the narratives that will now be constructed, and how Benazir Bhutto’s life is remembered will determine the consequences of her tragic death.
Kamal A. Munir teaches Strategy and Policy at Cambridge University, UK.

