SONYA FATAH

Traditional institutions have defied government attempts to modernize in the wake of Sept. 11

SONYA FATAH
THE TORONTO STAR, January 22, 2008

KARACHI, Pakistan–A class full of children – all of them boys – sit bent over their books, rocking back and forth as they collectively repeat after their instructor.

Mufti Naeem smiles as he watches the scene on one of four security monitors on his office desk at the Jamia Binoria, a madrassa, or religious seminary, in Karachi’s northern district.

This is one of Karachi’s allegedly reformed madrassas, where Islamic and secular subjects are taught to the 4,000 students at its sprawling campus.

In 2002 the Pakistani government launched a five-year program called the Madrassa Reforms Project, a post-9/11 directive aimed at modernizing religious seminaries by broadening their curricula, establishing educational standards and reining in the militant ones. With suicide attacks on the rise in Pakistan, many fear that more madrassas will become breeding grounds for extremist ideologies.

Yet, five years later, the program has been discontinued.

Officials estimate there are about 13,000 madrassas across the country with fewer than 2 million students enrolled. But many observers say there are likely more than 20,000 madrassas.

“None of these madrassas are registered or will bother to register,” said Muhammad Ejaz Ahsan, who heads the Karachi office of the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan. “They are politically and financially independent and have no desire to be reined in by government authorities.”

Historically, madrassas were institutions of learning in the Islamic world. Today, a large percentage of the country’s madrassas are community responses to sub-par government education.

Why madrassa reform has failed isn’t difficult to answer.

Instead of being curtailed, madrassas sprouted up, providing free education, boarding and lodging for poor children, combating poor government schooling, unemployment, inflation and a host of other problems.

At an education conference one of Binoria’s students, Adnan Kaka Khel, lectured Pakistan President Pervez Musharraf against his madrassa drive.

“Mr. President … (this) is class games, an unjust system, disrespect of talent … limitless corruption, and the misuse of power – it is these dangerous trends which have driven the youth in this direction. You need to fix these problems, and then you will see if these youth are terrorists or lovers of peace.”

Pakistan’s constitution obliges the state to provide free and compulsory secondary education. However, education (and health), key social-sector departments, have consistently been sacrificed in the name of “national interest” issues such as defence expenditure.

“In this lane itself, there are at least six madrassas,” said Abdul Waheed Khan, founder and director of the Bright Educational Society, a non-profit educational institution in Qasba Colony, a Pashtun-dominated settlement in Karachi.

In 1990, Khan enrolled in a madrassa for one year to get a taste of life on the inside.

“I came out of it, and I thought, `What kind of life is this for little children?’ They could not play or enjoy their lives. I saw sexual abuse and rape, and the children were learning by rote from teachers who were themselves uneducated.”

So, Khan convinced clerics in his area to let him teach secular subjects to their students. The heads of three small madrassas agreed. Today, Khan’s literacy program is run in 350 madrassas in Karachi.

Of the roughly $80 million earmarked for madrassa reform, about $18 million was distributed to the Sindh provincial government, but most of it, insiders say, was spend on office expenses.

Ultimately, it’s the lack of political will that is preventing both the education of largely poor school children, and the closing of more extremist madrassas, many of which continue to have friends in high places across government.

“Our government doesn’t want to enlighten or educate its people,” said Khan, referring to Musharraf’s promise of enlightened moderation. “As long as people are suppressed and can be used to follow their agenda, they are unlikely to change the status quo.”

Popularity: 4% [?]

Bhutto `killed in Punjab, just like all our leaders,’ says Sindhi man from slain leader’s province
January 06, 2008
SONYA FATAH
The TORONTO STAR

KARACHI, Pakistan–The advertisement ran prominently in Urdu-language newspapers across the country.

“In just three days, we have suffered a loss of 100 billion rupees ($1.6 billion),” it read. “This is not politics. This is not grieving. This is lawlessness.”

Underneath the headline, the advertisement invited all those who have suffered personal, financial and other losses during riots following the Dec. 27 assassination of Benazir Bhutto to call a hotline for assistance.

The invitation, however, wasn’t extended to everyone.

“All party candidates for national and provincial assembly seats and Punjabi, Pathan, Mohajir and Baloch settlers of Sindh (province) who have been affected by the recent violence can contact (us) at these telephone numbers,” it read.

But the ad omitted Sindhis, people from Bhutto’s home province, and the region that bore the brunt of the devastating loss during the post-assassination riots.

“What they’re saying by publishing this advertisement is that no Sindhis suffered during the riots,” said Fayyaz Naich, who hosts a news discussion show on a local television channel. “And they are creating a dangerous precedent.”

The advertisement, from the pro-Musharraf Pakistan Muslim League-Quaid-e-Azam party, comes at a particularly bad time as Pakistanis gear up for next month’s general election and struggle to move on after the assassination of one of the leading political candidates.

It also threatened to bring in a fresh wave of ethnic tension and violence that could jeopardize the already postponed elections.

Although many insiders said the mistake was a misprint, the party’s president, Chaudhury Shujaat Hussain, said PML-Q had decided to run the advertisement because Punjabis had been targeted in the violence following Bhutto’s death.

Pakistan’s largest and richest province, Punjab, which holds 148 general seats in the National Assembly, has always overshadowed its southern neighbour, Sindh, which occupies 61 seats in the same assembly.

The smaller province has regarded Punjab with hostility since partition, with many believing that Punjabis occupy a hugely influential role in the country’s economy, society and its politics. Punjab’s domination of the country’s most powerful institution, its army, also has ruffled feathers in Sindh.

“She was killed in Punjab, you know,” said Ghulam Nabi, 60, from Sukkur in interior Sindh, echoing a much-repeated statement. “Just like all our leaders.”

Indeed, Bhutto is the third Sindhi leader to be assassinated or killed in Punjab. The first was prime minister Liaquat Ali Khan, who was killed by a gunman in 1951 not far from where Bhutto was killed in Rawalpindi. And Bhutto’s father, Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, was hanged in 1979 under the supervision of Gen. Zia ul Haq.

Pakistan’s politicians know just how quickly ethnic tension can flare up. To avoid that situation, Bhutto’s Pakistan Peoples Party reminded its supporters of the party’s national message and its promise not to discriminate based on ethnicity or religion.

Three days after Bhutto’s death, her husband, Asif Ali Zardari, appealed to PPP supporters to put away their swords and not to blame Punjabis for his wife’s death. Bhutto supporters were also in Punjab, he reminded them, and some had served as her bodyguards.

Friday’s advertisement set off panic that an ethnic flare-up could destabilize the country further. But by yesterday, the party had published a new, improved version, which included the omitted province.

But many, including those who are Sindh-based politicians, were unimpressed. In the larger battle for power, national resources and control of the land, between Sindh and Punjab, the ad may boomerang on the PML-Q party by alienating its Sindhi membership.

“It seems as if the party has decided to sacrifice its Sindh candidates to win more seats in the Punjab,” said Ghaus Khan Bux Mahar, a national assembly candidate from Shikarpur, interior Sindh.

Beyond concerns of impacting the upcoming general elections, many Pakistanis said that these were all signs of a greater conspiracy to destabilize and then destroy Pakistan. That theory has been a popular one across Pakistan for years.

“The Americans and certain people within our establishment are trying to break us up,” said Baboo Narayan Lal, 46, in Karachi, expressing a popular view across Pakistan.

“That’s why they are creating tension between the provinces. I’ve even seen the map – Pakistan will break up into little pieces and join other territories,” he said.

Popularity: 5% [?]

Bhutto tomb still draws crowds as Pakistanis bring children to pay respects to slain leader
January 05, 2008
Sonya Fatah
THE TORONTO STAR

GARHI KHUDA BAKHSH, Pakistan–The dust has settled around the Bhutto mausoleum a week after hundreds of thousands flocked here to witness the burial of slain Pakistani opposition leader Benazir Bhutto.

Inside the elaborate structure reminiscent of Mughal splendour, some 200 people gather around Bhutto’s grave, sprinkling the damp mud with rose petals that spill over onto the speckled marble floor.

The numbers have dwindled since the early days after Bhutto’s assassination, but with one more Bhutto buried here the family’s legendary draw is likely to continue attracting a steady stream of loyalists.

Of those gathered inside yesterday, several were from Garhi Khuda Bakhsh, where the mausoleum stands in Sindh province. Others had walked or hitched rides to get here to pay their final respects.

“I’ve come here every day since Mohtarma Benazir was buried,” said Satora Bibi, 60, who works in the fields and lives in a packed mud house beside the marble edifice that houses the graves of Bhutto family members.

“I’ve been coming here regularly since Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto was martyred,” she said, weeping at the memory of the former prime minister and founder of the Pakistan Peoples Party. “I come for (Benazir Bhutto’s brothers) Shah Nawaz and Murtaza as well.”

The village is abuzz every year on April 4, the day in 1979 when Gen. Zia ul Haq hanged Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto.Benazir Bhutto’s Dec. 27 death is likely to become another observed date.

The original mausoleum built to house the senior Bhutto’s family, not far from his home district of Larkana, was constructed quite simply. Later, Benazir Bhutto enlarged the structure significantly, and a miniature Taj Mahal was born.

“I used to come to listen to her speak here,” said Nabi Bakhsh, 60, who is from Sukkur. “She had the ground in front of the mausoleum cleared and she would address the thousands of people gathered here against this magnificent backdrop. It was worth watching.”

In a country with a rich culture of shrines and Sufi saints who are worshipped by communities large and small, Bhutto’s mausoleum has also become something of a shrine. There is always a steady stream of local and other travellers stopping to rest on the cool marble floors under the arched doorways and high ceilings.

“I remember when our martyred leader, Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto was buried, the military blocked the roads,” said Satora Bibi. “We couldn’t even get near. At least this time we haven’t been stopped.”

Many children followed their weeping parents and grandparents, to stand by Bhutto’s grave yesterday. For this generation, the collective Bhutto legacy will likely be transferred by word of mouth, a kind of oral history.

“I feel sad,” said Saima Ali Gul, 10, talking about Bhutto. “She was so beautiful.”

Beside her, an elderly woman began to wail. “Oh Allah! Oh Allah,” she grieved. “What will we do? What will us poor people do? Benazir is no more.”

Among those gathered, no one questioned their poverty or why their leaders lived mere kilometres away in luxury at the Bhutto mansion in Naudero.

Neither the past nor the future mattered to some who felt Bhutto’s loss has thrown the country into the depths of despair.

“It doesn’t look good,” said Yasir Bhutto, 23, a student at Shah Latif Government College in Shikarpur, about 50 kilometres away.

“I am deeply, deeply sad,” he added as tears welled up in his eyes. “I don’t know what our future is. I feel like my heart is flying out of Pakistan.”

His friend, Mukesh Kumar, a shopkeeper in the same town, laid a blanket of roses strung together with tinsel over Bhutto’s grave. He, too, agreed. “We had complete and total hope in her.”

There were optimists, too.

“I have come here to remember Bhutto,” said Zulfiqar Ali Rahujo from Larkana, who runs the group Liberal Forum Pakistan. “I will keep coming here to remember our leaders so I can have hope and faith in our struggle for democracy, rule of law and tolerance.”

Popularity: 4% [?]

But Zardari has no qualms about taking on political role in Pakistan in the wake of wife’s assassination
January 04, 2008
Sonya Fatah
THE TORONTO STAR

NAUDERO, Pakistan–A constant stream of visitors filled the large conference room of the Bhutto mansion, as delegations of religious, political, legal and other groups offered their condolences to the husband of assassinated political leader Benazir Bhutto.

Dressed entirely in black, Asif Ali Zardari fielded phone calls, meetings with members of the opposition Pakistan Peoples Party and television interviews, bounding back and forth between condolence callers and official business.

Zardari, the party’s new co-chairman, sat with each delegation, put his hands together and prayed with them beneath a portrait of his late father-in-law, former prime minister Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto.

The visual is a reminder that Zardari, until recently not even a player on the political scene, is now on Bhutto territory. As the successor to the woman who drew vast numbers to her election rallies and to her political message, he has been left with some big shoes to fill.

Zardari doesn’t think that’s a problem. Indeed, he has no qualms about projecting himself as a politician in the aftermath of his wife’s death. Even as a Zardari, we are all Bhuttos here, he told the Star.

“I am not letting the nation go into the hands of the people who want to break the country,” he said, underlining his determination to go on carrying the Bhutto torch. “We have to take it to a democracy, that’s the vision she gave her life for.”

How exactly Zardari will do that remains to be seen.

The PPP had hoped to win a handsome victory in the Jan. 8 elections, partially riding on a national wave of sympathy since Bhutto’s Dec. 27 assassination at a public rally in Rawalpindi.

But now that the election has been delayed until Feb. 18, in the wake of Bhutto’s death, things may change.

“In our neighbourhood when Indiraji (Indira Gandhi) died, 20,000 people were killed but the elections were not postponed,” said Zardari, bringing up similar periods from Indian history.

“When Rajiv (Gandhi) died, scores of places were burnt but elections were not postponed. But unfortunately we have uneducated, non-political brains running the country. They do not know the difference, the far effects it can have on the country. They do not know how nation-building is done, how nations fractured are put together again.”

Zardari’s immediate challenge will be to mount an election campaign that can continue Bhutto’s momentum, and ensure that a free and fair vote takes place.

The chances of the latter, he admitted, are slim.

“They have tried to rig the elections, they haven’t given that up,” he said.

“Even now, the Killer league, as my workers call it, are (trying to rig the elections),” said Zardari, referring to the country’s ruling party, the Pakistan Muslim League (Quaid-e-Azam). That party is made up of defectors from the opposition Pakistan Muslim League (Nawaz), which is seen as a pro-establishment party.

After the Oct. 18 suicide bombing at Bhutto’s homecoming parade in which 150 people were killed, Zardari accused key figures in the country’s establishment of being behind the attack. Nothing has yet come of the government’s probe into the incident but the PPP has insisted there is a vendetta to either fracture or destroy the party.

Although the government enlisted the assistance of Scotland Yard in the investigation on Bhutto’s assassination, Zardari has said an international probe will only be accepted if it is under the auspices of the United Nations.

With much of the preliminary and on-site forensic evidence lost because the government hosed down the site, Zardari said he wanted an international team to highlight the long-term conspiracy against the PPP.

“Because it’s a larger conspiracy than just that one incident so I want the whole conspiracy unearthed,” he said. “We’re not interested in just that incident or just that day. That is captured on tape.”

Conspiracies aside, Zardari will have to deal with issues relating to his legitimacy. As party-co chair, his son, 19-year-old Bilawal, will remain inactive in politics until he completes his studies at Britain’s Oxford university.

Zardari said people in the ruling party have already started badmouthing him and the PPP.

“Instead of being sombre, instead of shutting up, keeping quiet, letting the nation mourn, they’ve been trying to badmouth us.”

Indeed, Zardari should be used to unkind words. He has been known for years in Pakistan as “Mr. 10 Per Cent” because of a number of corruption allegations.

The son of a Sindhi landowner, Zardari grew up in Karachi and married Bhutto in 1987.

He spent eight years in jail on corruption charges and was released in 2004 after negotiations between the PPP and the government of Pervez Musharraf.

Since then, he has kept a low profile maintaining homes in Dubai and New York.

Bhutto had always insisted the corruption charges against her and her husband were politically motivated.

Writing about the ups and downs of a political marriage, Bhutto once penned her appreciation of Zardari in a piece for Outlook India.

“I’m lucky that my husband Asif is a man of exceptional courage,” she wrote.

“He stood by me despite the threats and the torture – and the inducement that were he to leave me he would be free of state harassment. Few men have been called upon to pay the price that he has paid both for his political commitment and marriage.”

For Zardari, maintaining his wife’s legacy is a big task.

Many don’t consider him to be the legitimate heir of the Bhutto political dynasty but rather a troublemaker who gave more grief than happiness to Bhutto.

Part of Zardari’s problem is that he lacks the Bhutto name. Shortly after the central committee of the PPP met to announce its new co-chairmen, it also announced that Bhutto’s son Bilawal Zardari would be renamed Bilawal Bhutto Zardari, a change signalling the importance of the Bhutto name.

Zardari, too, understands what is in the Bhutto name.

“I don’t think anybody is a Zardari or a Magsi or Khokar or anybody in the Peoples party,” he said when asked if he felt uncomfortable as a Zardari in Bhutto clothing. “They’re all Bhuttos.”

Popularity: 4% [?]

Decision to put off poll to Feb. 18 seen as bid by Musharraf to buy time
January 03, 2008
SONYA FATAH

THE TORONTO STAR

KARACHI, Pakistan–Opposition parties denounced a government decision yesterday to postpone elections by six weeks following the assassination of Benazir Bhutto – but they said they will still participate in the vote.

“We condemn the postponement of elections,” said Asif Ali Zardari, Bhutto’s husband and the Pakistan Peoples Party’s new co-chair. “But we will still fight elections … the elections will happen and the people will be successful.”

Citing law and order problems and the destruction of key election materials in the aftermath of last week’s slaying of the former prime minister, Pakistan’s election commission announced yesterday it will delay elections set for next Tuesday until Feb. 18.

The visibly frazzled chief election commissioner Qazi Mohammad Farooq made a hasty exit after the announcement set off a barrage of questions at the commission’s press conference.

Although the commission’s decision was not unexpected, opposition parties had clearly expressed a desire to stick to the original date, fearing a delay would work against them.

Bhutto’s party would expect to reap a considerable sympathy vote following her assassination in a gun and bomb attack as she left a rally in Rawalpindi Dec. 27.

“If Iraq can hold elections, if Afghanistan can hold elections, so can Pakistan,” said Ali Dayan Hasan, South Asia Researcher for Human Rights Watch.

The country’s other prominent political party, Pakistan Muslim League (Nawaz), led by former prime minister Nawaz Sharif, also denounced the decision to postpone the election, but said it would still participate.

By pushing the election forward, the country’s ruling party, Pakistan Muslim League (Quaid-e-Azam), is looking to buy some time, analysts say.

“The elections have been postponed because there isn’t the will to have elections because of a fear of (President Pervez) Musharraf’s political opponents winning the elections,” said Hasan.

Dozens of people were killed in violence that erupted across Pakistan after Bhutto’s slaying and analysts said a postponement could lead to renewed rioting.

Tension remains high and markets are gripped by fears of capital flight if security worsens.

Farooq said election offices in 11 districts of Sindh, Bhutto’s home province, were burned down in disturbances, destroying transparent ballot boxes, voter screens, voters’ lists and other election materials.

An election official in Sindh said about 11,000 of 97,000 ballot boxes allotted for that province were destroyed.

Musharraf, in a televised address to the nation, said army and paramilitary troops would clamp down on any renewed violence and appealed for national reconciliation.

“The army … will be fully deployed to ensure law and order across the country and for holding elections peacefully,” Musharraf said.

“This is time for national reconciliation and not confrontation.”

Popularity: 4% [?]

Supporters of first female PM in a Muslim nation viewed the slain leader as their ticket for change
January 02, 2008
Sonya Fatah
THE STAR

KARACHI, PAKISTAN–Ghazala Shafiq speaks in urgent tones from her small apartment inside Trinity Church, where her husband is pastor to Karachi’s Protestant community.

In April 2005, Shafiq was sexually assaulted when a gang of men barged into her office across the road from the church’s grounds. Shafiq recognized her attackers – officials in the church community in cahoots with local police officials.

Yet, two years later, despite appealing to Pakistan’s then prime minister Shaukat Aziz and after numerous police and intelligence investigations, justice has evaded her.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be violated like that,” said Shafiq, her eyes filling with tears. “It’s so humiliating. I hardly feel alive anymore, but I still want justice from my country.”

Countless women like Shafiq suffer the humiliation of sexual assault, rape and domestic violence in a patriarchal society where there are few legal protections for women. Few victims report their crimes and those who do are hounded.

For them, Benazir Bhutto, the first female prime minister of a Muslim country, had always been a symbol of hope and courage.

“Benazir was such a strong woman,” said Shafiq, grieving last Thursday’s slaying of the the leader of the Pakistan Peoples Party. “I had hoped to ask her to help me.”

But Bhutto, who was 35 years old when she first came to power in 1988, struggled to deliver lasting change after 11 years under military dictator Gen. Zia-ul-Haq, who used and abused Islamic law to make Pakistan a terrifying place for women and minorities.

Zia brought in the Hudood Ordinance in 1979, a draconian law that saw innocent victims of rape hauled into jail for conceiving children out of wedlock and required four male witnesses to authenticate a rape. It was also during Zia’s time that the influence of radical Islamists grew across Pakistan’s many seminaries while performing arts, especially music and dance, were prohibited.

Bhutto was expected to reverse that trend by repealing laws that discriminated against women, minorities and other disadvantaged groups.

In small part, she did.

“She set up Pakistan’s first (and last) separate human rights ministry,” said Iqbal Haider, who heads the Karachi branch of the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan.

“I worked with her over the years and she was genuinely sensitive to the issues of women and minorities,” Haider said.

During Bhutto’s time in power in the late ’80s and mid-1990s, the first women’s bank was set up, giving loans to encourage women to become independent earners. She also signed and ratified the Convention for the Elimination of Discrimination Against Women.

In addition, Bhutto established a special unit to document violence against women, and instituted a women’s police force.

Still, such changes did little to overturn the legal and social biases against women.

“Some of us were disappointed that she didn’t do all the things we expected her to do when she came to power the first time,” said Uzma Noorani, chair of Women’s Action Forum, a non-governmental organization that has championed the rights of women.

“I think we found that where we had expected her to be open on women, she was defensive because she did not want to appear weak before a very male system, and she did not want to jeopardize her power in government,” said Noorani.

Still, women in Pakistan saw Bhutto as an inspiration.

Although the Musharraf government touted women’s rights as one the highlights of its eight-year rule that began in 1999, many saw its efforts as cosmetic.

While it reserved seats for women in the provincial and national legislatures, “women’s direct participation in politics increased only nominally,” according to the International Crisis Group, an international think-tank.

With few options remaining, an apparently reformed Bhutto appeared to be a godsend. In her eight-year absence, she had not only observed rising militancy in Pakistan, she seemed to have absorbed lessons from her less than perfect periods in office.

“For a country like Pakistan where we are entrenched in patriarchy and religious forces, to have a moderate force and a woman was huge,” said Noorani. “We have lost that and it’s a vacuum I don’t think anyone else can fill.”

As a politician who was able to draw massive crowds to her rallies even in male-dominated frontier areas, people saw Bhutto as the only one who could bring liberalism and democracy to the region.

Countless women and men depended on that hope as suicide bombings, Islamic pressures and militancy were on the rise.

At an informal prayer service outside her Karachi home two days ago, Mussarat Khan sobbed loudly, grieving for her fallen “sister.”

“She gave women like me a reason to come out of my home. As a leader, she could have saved Pakistan. She could have rescued us women.”

The loss today is both political and personal.

“The future of Pakistan could have been affected, completely changed under her,” said Shafiq, fearful that justice is once again out of her grasp.

“She could have taken us out of our plight, but now we fear it is dark again.”

Popularity: 3% [?]

As pall begins to lift across Karachi, ex-governors join candlelight vigil held outside Bhutto’s home
January 01, 2008
Sonya Fatah
THE TORONTO STAR

KARACHI, Pakistan–For more than two months after Benazir Bhutto returned to Pakistan, crowds thronged her Karachi residence. Several layers of security prevented access into the high-walled fortress-like home.

But three days after her assassination, a pall of gloom hung over Bilawal House, named after Bhutto’s 19-year-old son and recently announced political heir of her party, the Pakistan Peoples Party.

As nightfall descended on the city, a small crowd gathered outside Bilawal House for a candlelight vigil. Flickering flames from candles set on a white cloth-covered table surrounded a framed photograph of Bhutto, a symbol of hope in a country that has faced serious internal turmoil all year.

“No one is in a mood to celebrate the new year,” said Iqbal Haider, of the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan as people around him chanted slogans of support for the slain former prime minister.

“But we wanted to use the occasion to pay tribute to Benazir Bhutto and to hope that the next year will be a better one,” Haider said.

For many people, both in Pakistan and overseas, the return of Bhutto signalled hope for a more liberal and open-minded Pakistan. Losing her at the close of a tumultuous year seemed to the many gathered at Bilawal House to be a particularly bad omen for the country.

Their speeches, laced with despair, reflected a new low in the country’s internal political and security situation.

“We had rested a great deal of our hopes on Benazir Bhutto especially with the rise of extreme elements in the country,” said Rev. Shafiq Kanwar of Karachi’s Trinity Church.

“As a Christian, it is my faith to pray for our leaders and hope that peace may come to Pakistan but I don’t feel good. It’s been a really bad year.”

The elite gathering of mourners, comprising former governors, human rights workers, and civil society representatives placed their hopes for a brighter future in a few candles that lit up the fading image of Bhutto.

Not all Pakistanis were as affected by the opposition leader’s sudden death. Many, particularly those from posh neighbourhoods such as Clifton, waxed eloquent about the corruption charges against her and refused to accept her death as a national tragedy.

“They are making a martyr out of a woman who robbed the country blind,” said a 26-year old Karachiite who did not want to be named. “Frankly, I am indifferent to her death.”

As police set up roadblocks across the city’s main roads in preparation for violence on New Year’s Eve, a few dogged partygoers were still working out their evening plans, oblivious of the impact of the past few days on most of the city’s residents.

Prices of basic necessities such as eggs, wheat flour and vegetables skyrocketed as mob violence hindered the supply of produce.

But by yesterday a semblance of order had returned to Karachi as shops, banks and gas stations reopened.

“We have this feeling that we are immune to how the common man suffers and what happens to him,” said Rafique Malik, who works in Toronto and was in Karachi visiting family and friends.

“We just want to preserve that system,” Malik said.

For most Pakistanis, however, Bhutto’s death came as a shock.

“She was the voice of the people and she was the voice of the elite,” said a member of the Women’s Action Forum, the non-profit group that organized the candlelight vigil.

“She was against militancy and extremism and she wanted to bring back light to Pakistan.”

Popularity: 3% [?]