Victoria Schofield - The Fragrance of Tears

This memoir is not a biography. The narrative does not intend, as would that of a biography, to examine the life of an individual from a detached distance, interrogating the good and the bad, the failures and successes. It is above all the story of a friendship between two women of different cultures which began in the sociable environment of Oxford University but which, when transported into the real world, was marked by tragedy. Most of the events described took place against the backdrop of a turbulent country which alternated between elected civilian government and military rule; a country whose liberal values changed to conservative so that more and more women felt obliged to cover their heads in public, where blasphemy and adultery became punishable by death; a country which, defying the odds, attained nuclear capability, whose strategic location meant that it became a frontline state in the war on terror and yet was nearly classified as a terrorist state itself; where kidnappings and suicide bombings were a daily occurrence; where a minority enjoy extreme affluence, while millions live in poverty; whose population, now estimated at over 200 million, over a third of whom is illiterate, is outstripping the countrys resources.

That country is the Islamic Republic of Pakistan and my friend was Benazir Bhutto. When I first arrived in Rawalpindi in the summer of 1978 she was the only person I knew in Pakistan and she was under house arrest. Her father, the former prime minister, had recently been overthrown in a military coup, and was in prison, condemned to death for conspiracy to murder; but, thanks to her, in the decades to come, I made countless friends and came to regard Pakistan as a second home and to admire its people for their resilience as well as being grateful for their hospitality.

Both during Benazirs lifetime and since her assassination numerous books have been written about her and the influence of the Bhutto family on the politics of Pakistan. Many have praised Benazir, who served twice as prime minister in the late 1980s and 1990s, for her liberal progressive mindset, her vision and charisma, while others have criticised her failure to meet expectations. My motivation has been to share my personal experience of an exceptional woman who, despite operating in a complex and highly challenging environment, showed a wonderful gift for friendship, kindness and generosity of spirit. This is my tribute to a friend, who was killed in her prime; it is my testament to her bravery and courage.

THE FRAGRANCE OF TEARS

I was on a train. The low-volume buzz of other peoples conversations filled the compartment, the voices of young and old discussing the best (and worst) part of having spent Christmas with their families. I too had been with my extended family of in-laws in Lincolnshire, and was returning alone to London to spend a couple of days with my sister. I was then planning to rejoin my husband and children for the new year: the sort of humdrum arrangements anyone might make during the holiday period.

Unexpectedly my mobile phone went, a shrill sound intruding on the muted chatter around me.

Hello, I said, thinking maybe it was one of my children calling. But instead it was Rita Payne, Asia Editor at BBC World Television.

Have you heard the news? she asked expectantly.

No, I responded, sudden tension gripping my voice. Im on a train. Whats happened?

Theres been an explosion in Rawalpindi where Benazir was addressing an election rally; initial reports are that shes unharmed. But were waiting to hear more. Ill let you know.

I hung up, an uneasy sensation saturating my thoughts. Benazir Bhutto, my close friend since our days together as students at Oxford University in the 1970s, was standing in Pakistans forthcoming general elections. If her party, the Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP), won, she would become prime minister of Pakistan for the third time, having made history in 1988 as the first female prime minister of a Muslim nation aged just thirty-five. The stakes were high. Regardless of the mood of change sweeping the country, the president, General Pervez Musharraf, was hoping he could retain supreme authority, having just lifted a state of emergency. But after eight years of military government people were tiring of men in uniform in high places. Instead they wanted a return to civilian government. Opposing Benazir and the PPP was Nawaz Sharif, leader of the Pakistan Muslim League (Nawaz faction). He too was hoping hed become prime minister for a third time, having been ousted by Musharraf in a bloodless coup in 1999. Finally, the former cricketer, Imran Khan, leader of the Pakistan Tehrik-i-Insaaf (PTI or Justice Party), had also thrown his hat into the ring, and was making news by tarring all his opponents with the same brush of corruption and nepotism. For Benazir the physical dangers were great. In October, on her return to Pakistan after eight years in exile, she had already been targeted by a suicide bomb, which killed over 150 people, although miraculously she had survived.