In the week since Benazir Bhutto was assassinated, the former Pakistani Prime Minister's obituary writers and eulogists -- particularly overwhelmed members of Delhi's liberal intelligentsia -- have painted her as virtually the goddess who died young.

Mr Manmohan Singh called her an agent of "reconciliation between India and Pakistan". One commentator more or less denounced Rajiv Gandhi for allegedly "betraying" Bhutto in 1989 and not withdrawing Indian troops from Siachen. The lady has been widely acclaimed as a "champion" of democracy, a "friend" of India, a voice for "moderation" and, of course, the "most popular" leader in Pakistan.

Such a flagrant sample of collective and deliberate amnesia is downright disquieting. True, no unnatural death -- least of all a political assassination -- can be easily condoned and in that sense one must sympathise with Bhutto's family and friends, but there is need to draw a distinction between Benazir Bhutto as woman, wife and mother, and Benazir Bhutto as politician and Prime Minister.

It is important to understand Bhutto's career and particularly her actions during her second and final prime ministerial term (1993-96), for it will be so easy to repeat the mistakes of the past, recreate the conditions that drove Afghanistan and its environs into barbarism in the mid-1990s and only worsen the legacy of that period.

How valid are these assertions? Or are they just alarmism? It must be realised that too many analysts who are shedding tears for Bhutto are using the occasion to flog their individual theories on what must be done in the South Asia region and are recommending simplistic and ultimately unworkable solutions.

College friends may choose to remember an idealistic Bhutto and perhaps her homecoming to Zia-ul Haq's Pakistan in 1986 was indeed a ray of hope for democracy. But as a career politician, Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto's daughter was little more than a cynical dealmaker. Ousted from the Prime Minister's office in 1990, she made her peace with the Pakistan Army and was its handmaiden by 1993.

The spirit of compromise never left her. In her last year, Bhutto spent her time addressing already-persuaded audiences in the West and pretending to be the model modern Muslim leader -- a sort of female Kemal Ataturk. She was desperate enough to allow Washington, DC, to broker a deal between her and Gen Pervez Musharraf. It was, she thought at least initially, an easy shortcut to the Prime Minister's job.

As it happened, the Pakistan Benazir Bhutto was returning to was a very different society and country from the one of her youth. The Bhutto surname was hardly the guarantor of widespread acceptability that it may have been two decades ago. Outside Sindh, she was not the popular icon her obituary writers make her out to be. Even in that province, in a genuine election the Muttahida Qaumi Movement would give the Pakistan People's Party a tough contest in Karachi.

What of outside Sindh? While a pan-Pakistani civilian leader may be a mythical being, there is little doubt that Mr Nawaz Sharif -- and this is not to paint him as his country's great hope -- would be able to put together a more robust and credible stakeholder coalition than Bhutto would have managed. Beyond the PPP loyalist ring, most Pakistanis still saw her as Imelda Marcos, not Aung Saan Suu Kyi.

By the time she landed at Karachi airport on October 18, 2007, Bhutto's essential appeal was to non-Pakistanis living far away. After a decade of unsuccessfully trying to sell herself to the West as a trustworthy, confidence-inducing 'Daughter of the East', she had finally hit pay dirt.

Suddenly the Administration in Washington, DC, was facilitating lecture tours and media interviews and presenting her as the woman who could take charge of Pakistan. Suddenly American diplomats scorned Mr Sharif but placed great faith in Bhutto -- even though there was no essential difference; neither seemed to have any real convictions or non-negotiable principles.

It speaks volumes for the US State Department's institutional memory that the Benazir Bhutto of the mid-1990s was forgotten, her role as the fairy godmother of the Taliban airbrushed out of the frame. Regrettably, many in Delhi seem to have equally short memories.

The disdain for history is proving infectious. In the aftermath of Bhutto's murder, her old friend and London-based Left-wing activist Tariq Ali wrote an article that pointed to America as the source of all evil. If US President George W Bush were to withdraw his soldiers, Mr Ali said, India, Pakistan, Iran and Russia would evolve a mechanism to stabilise Afghanistan -- and all would be well.

Now, Uncle Sam has not been tactically coherent or even consistent in the war against terror. The US has permitted itself to be used by the Pakistani military establishment, particularly in the context of the now on-now off battle in Waziristan. It has allowed Gen Musharraf to expend energies on quelling political opponents in Baluchistan -- people who may be rebelling against Islamabad but are not Al Qaeda, not Islamist terrorists. It has even looked the other way as Rawalpindi's Generals have refused to shut down Jaish-e-Mohammed and related organisations that wage jihad on India.

Yet, consider the implications of asking the US and the West to walk away. They did that in 1988-89 after the Soviet Union retreated from Afghanistan. A grand, multi-ethnic alliance of mujahideen warlords took charge in Kabul. Then, too, there were hopes that countervailing pressures from regional powers -- including India, Pakistan, Iran, a weakened Russia, and China, which was worried about Uyghur insurgents receiving sanctuary in Afghanistan -- would ensure stability.

In a few short years, the idea collapsed. Armed and encouraged by Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto and her Interior Minister, Maj-Gen Naseerullah Babar, a rag-tag band of religious students invaded Kabul. The Taliban occupation of Afghanistan had begun. The so-called 'natural' deadlock in Afghanistan -- which Tariq Ali now alludes to -- proved a non-starter.

Why did Bhutto back the Taliban? She wanted to manipulate its religious impulses for her political ends. Like Gen Zia, she believed a Pakistani presence in Afghanistan would lend her country 'strategic depth'. She may have abused Gen Zia for murdering her father but had no problem agreeing with his broader goals when it suited her. In short, she was as flawed as the Pakistani state.

So why are we mourning her?

Courtesy: www.dailypioneer.com, January 04, 2008