Benazir Bhutto's tragic death last December was like a bolt from the blue for the people of Pakistan, as well as for her friends abroad. The trauma it triggered can still be felt at home and beyond.

For some, however, the tragedy spawned an opportunity to capi-talise on an once-in-a-lifetime chance. Shyam Bhatia is a journalist, editor of Asian Affairs magazine, and a correspondent of London's Observer newspaper. But his latest claim to fame is that he was a contemporary of Benazir's at Oxford and became close friends with her.

So close, in fact, that of all the people in the world, she chose him to repose her utmost confidence by revealing to him, and him alone, Pakistan's nuclear secrets, especially the swap made with North Korea — of the Pakistani technology on uranium enrichment in return for North Korean Nodong missiles capable of delivering a nuclear war-head.
Bhatia's interest in Pakistan's nuclear programme is obvious. He belongs to that cabal of sensation-mongers who have made it their life's all-consuming passion to paint Pakistan's quest for nuclear parity with India as a development of cataclysmic proportions. It would appear that India has a god-given right to become nuclear, Israel has divine sanction to possess nuclear weapons, but not Pakistan, because Pakistan's bomb has a religion that sows terror in the hearts of its neighbours.

As far back as 1979, as per his own admission, Bhatia, in association with an Observer crony, Colin Smith, had come up with an expose on Dr A.Q. Khan entitled How Dr Khan stole the bomb for Islam. In the book, Bhatia makes fun of Dr Khan for rebutting these allegations in an angry letter to the Observer by ridiculing his 'Babu-English'.

It is clear that Bhatia has never been an admirer, much less a friend, of Pakistan or Pakistanis. In the author's note he admits that until he met her, 'Pakistan for me conjured images of mad mullahs, forced conversions and oppressed women backed up by a theology of hate.'So, while carrying so many chips on his shoulders against Pakistan, this journalist set about deconstructing Benazir Bhutto the day after her tragic demise. He claims that he was sworn to secrecy as long as she was alive but feels relieved that he is now free to share the information provided to him with the rest of the world.

The piece de resistance of Bhatia's book of 'revelations' is what BB confided to him in a moment of weakness, depression and gloom (induced, in his opinion, by her family circumstances) over heaping platters of mutton and chicken biryanis in the plush living room of her Dubai residence-in-exile one afternoon in September 2003.

Bhatia claims that he was told that Pakistan was ready to explode a nuclear bomb in December 1977, only a few months after her father's overthrow in a military coup, but General Ziaul Haq aborted the plan.

Equally sensational is what BB confessed to him, that same fateful afternoon in Dubai, in the context of Pakistan's desperate search, in his words, for a delivery system capable of carrying its nuclear bombs to their targets. She apparently told to him quite candidly that she was 'the mother of the missile programme.'

For special effect he paints a dramatic, cloak-and-dagger scenario that pervaded BB's mission to Pyongyang, the North Korean capital, to swap uranium enrichment technology for missiles. But in doing so the author unwittingly calls his own bluff.

He contends that BB told him she had to shop for a coat with the deepest of pockets to carry CDs containing information on enrichment technology. But why should BB have needed those 'deep pockets?' She wasn't a Mata Hari embarking on a mission of stealth and going through enemy territory.

After more than three decades as an investigative journalist, Bhatia should know the basics of a VVIP visit abroad. A prime minister does not have to travel on a commercial flight; he or she is free to travel on a special flight where no frisking or security check is involved. What was BB afraid of? This is a ridiculous attempt to create a James Bond-like scenario.

Bhatia's posthumous tribute is obviously a con job; an unabashed attempt to make hay out of his feigned closeness to BB. It's a clever marketing gimmick to hawk sensational copy to seek gold out of a rushed-to-print book, as Bhatia's obviously is. But Bhatia is also a cool customer.

He is trying to kill too many birds with his one stone tarnish BB's image with legions of those Pakistanis who have traditionally been suspicious of the Bhuttos' commitment to Pakistan and caviled at their softness towards India. Why would she confide in an Indian journalist, especially one with a known track record of sniping at Pakistan's nuclear programme?

If she had to unburden herself of such a big secret why didn't she choose one of her western friends; someone like Peter Galbraith who, according to Bhatia, managed BB's election campaign from Larkana? Or someone like Mark Segal, her long-time lobbyist in Washington, to whom she entrusted her last testament?

Benazir may have been emotional at times, but she wasn't a weak person or naïve enough to choose an Indian scribe as her confidant. His account is too flimsy and apocryphal, and has too many holes in it to be taken seriously.
Incidentally, those of BB's overseas friends who were truly close to her, such as the celebrated English journalist Victoria Scoffield, have ridiculed Bhatia's attempt to claim he was so close to her that she didn't mind revealing secrets to him that she wouldn't to anybody else.

The huge gap — as big as the Grand Canyon — in Bhatia's claim of being a bosom friend of BB is that there is not a photograph of the two together among the many personal photographs of her with family and friends included in the book. Close friends should have lots of photographs taken together, but Bhatia was obviously unlucky.

Benazir isn't going to come back from her grave to give the lie to his tirade. But those with a sense of proportion will easily see through this Pakistan-baiting journalist (Dr Khan had seen through him almost three decades ago).

Bhatia's is yet another attempt to pour scorn over Pakistan's nuclear programme and rob the likes of Dr Khan of any credit for having achieved, through the dint of their labour, what detractors deemed was impossible.

More than anything else, it's a calculated attempt to tarnish Benazir Bhutto's legacy. Bhatia's vicious caricature of her presents a leader who didn't have the judgment to know who should be told how much, if at all, and calls into question her integrity; that she didn't have the strength of character to guard state secrets. Bhatia owes an apology to the millions of Pakistanis to whom she has now become an icon.

Goodbye Shahzadi A political biography of Benazir Bhutto

By Shyam Bhatia

Roli Books, New Delhi

ISBN 978-81-7436-658-0

130pp. Indian Rs295