The ruthless politics of Pakistan — and the curse of being a Bhutto

Hours after Benazir Bhutto arrived back in Pakistan on 18 October 2007, two bombs exploded near the bullet-proof truck carrying her as it inched through hundreds of thousands of supporters in Karachi. She had returned after eight years in exile in an attempt to become prime minister for a third time.

As with other major incidents in Bhutto’s life, Victoria Schofield, her friend from their time at Oxford, was there. ‘Suddenly, without warning, there was a loud explosion, the impact of which literally blew me out of my chair,’ she writes. More than 140 people died. Bhutto survived. Straight after the blasts Schofield found her at home. ‘She showed me the same affection that she always had: “Come sit,” she said. “I am just so relieved that you are safe”.’

Their 33-year friendship ended two months later when Bhutto was assassinated at a political rally. Her murder, carried out by militants, perhaps at the behest of the deep state, left a chasm in Pakistan’s political landscape. Schofield draws on their correspondence and her diaries for The Fragrance of Tears to paint an intimate portrait of Bhutto and her dynasty. The memoir is also an indictment of abuses of power by Pakistan’s military, which has ruled directly or from the shadows for most of the country’s history since its creation in 1947.

The story begins in 1974 when Schofield, a writer and journalist, first met Bhutto at Oxford, where both became presidents of the Union. Benazir cut a dash driving a yellow MG sports car and indulged a fondness for Anna Belinda dresses and Baskin Robbins ice cream. Among their contemporaries was Imran Khan, the former cricket star and Pakistan’s current prime minister.

On the eve of Benazir’s graduation, her father, Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, then prime minister, wrote to her that the ‘raw and ruthless life outside the gates of university awaits you’.