Songs Of Blood And Sword: A Daughter'S Memoir by Fatima Bhutto Page B
Authors: Fatima Bhutto
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have. In the end, after all is over, a very sad love story can be written about us.’ 6
On his second trip, there was more than just lunch at Colonaki Tops to organize. Staying with Della at her flat at Pakgrati Square, Murtaza called Minister Lamprias, the secretary to the Prime Minister, Karamanlis. He enlisted Della’s help in speaking to those who didn’t understand English and got an appointment with the Prime Minister, a friend of his father’s. Karamanlis, a one-time right-wing politician turned moderate, had only recently returned to Greece after some time in exile. He was friendly to Murtaza and received him warmly. Murtaza asked for his support in the fight for Bhutto’s life; he asked the Prime Minister to put pressure on Zia not to kill Pakistan’s first elected Prime Minister.
Della did not accompany Murtaza on this visit; she was, officially, the enemy. She worried that the government would know about her and the young Pakistani and wondered whether it would affect the government’s handling of her husband and the other jailed junta leaders. But Della was nothing if not brave. In the end she figured it might even make her position in Greece slightly safer, making her look like less of a junta firebrand.
In 1978, Murtaza visited Greece around ten times, stopping over after trips to Turkey, Syria and within Europe. He came to Greece to meet and speak with politicians in the new government and travelled around the country with Della. They went to the island of Aegina, where General Roufogalis was jailed, and while Della visited her husband in prison, Murtaza read the newspaper at a local coffee shop. They went to Veria and Murtaza met Della’s mother and two sisters, Nana and Vou, and together they went sightseeing around Alexander the Great’s hometown. Nana took Della and Murtaza to Mount Parnassos, near Delphi, when the first snow of winter came. She was a good skier, Della not so much and Murtaza not at all. Typically Pakistani, Murtaza scarcely ever wore winter clothes, and he very rarely hit the slopes. As Della was struggling down a small hill she saw a figure with a shawl on his head waving at her from the bottom of the peak – it was Mir, he had written her name in large letters with twigs and leaves in the fresh snow.
Della often came to London and it was there that Murtaza gaveher a copy of If I am Assassinated and signed it ‘with best wishes to Della’. Shah, more effusive, signed below ‘with lots of love’. In London the brothers changed apartments regularly, Della didn’t know if it was to do with security but Murtaza always wrote the different numbers and addresses in her diary himself. She used a small deep purple Asprey diary and Murtaza’s slanted cursive handwriting fills several boxes – 42 Lowndes Square is one address, oddly close to the Pakistani embassy, and 72 Stanhope Mews was the last address he wrote. On his birthday, his twenty-fourth, Della joined him in London and they went back to Trader Vic’s to celebrate. He wore Azzaro cologne that year, Della remembers, switching to Gray Flannel the next – he would wear the Geoffrey Beene cologne for the rest of his life – and wore, Della insists, only Turnbull & Asser shirts and silk suits. She wore long gypsy dresses, in fashion at the time, and embroidered peasant blouses. Murtaza often smoked Romeo y Julieta cigars, Che’s favourite brand, and slipped the red cigar bands onto Della’s fingers. Together, they visited Oxford and met Murtaza’s tutors – he still had a master’s thesis that occupied him – and Della accompanied Murtaza to Parliament, where he gave a briefing on Pakistan to a gathering of MPs. Murtaza was shy, Della remembered; she thought it would take a few months before he became comfortable with this sort of thing. But it wasn’t the MPs, it was Della; Murtaza had grown up with crowds and had campaigned vigorously for his father, giving speeches and doing door-to-door from an early age. He
On his second trip, there was more than just lunch at Colonaki Tops to organize. Staying with Della at her flat at Pakgrati Square, Murtaza called Minister Lamprias, the secretary to the Prime Minister, Karamanlis. He enlisted Della’s help in speaking to those who didn’t understand English and got an appointment with the Prime Minister, a friend of his father’s. Karamanlis, a one-time right-wing politician turned moderate, had only recently returned to Greece after some time in exile. He was friendly to Murtaza and received him warmly. Murtaza asked for his support in the fight for Bhutto’s life; he asked the Prime Minister to put pressure on Zia not to kill Pakistan’s first elected Prime Minister.
Della did not accompany Murtaza on this visit; she was, officially, the enemy. She worried that the government would know about her and the young Pakistani and wondered whether it would affect the government’s handling of her husband and the other jailed junta leaders. But Della was nothing if not brave. In the end she figured it might even make her position in Greece slightly safer, making her look like less of a junta firebrand.
In 1978, Murtaza visited Greece around ten times, stopping over after trips to Turkey, Syria and within Europe. He came to Greece to meet and speak with politicians in the new government and travelled around the country with Della. They went to the island of Aegina, where General Roufogalis was jailed, and while Della visited her husband in prison, Murtaza read the newspaper at a local coffee shop. They went to Veria and Murtaza met Della’s mother and two sisters, Nana and Vou, and together they went sightseeing around Alexander the Great’s hometown. Nana took Della and Murtaza to Mount Parnassos, near Delphi, when the first snow of winter came. She was a good skier, Della not so much and Murtaza not at all. Typically Pakistani, Murtaza scarcely ever wore winter clothes, and he very rarely hit the slopes. As Della was struggling down a small hill she saw a figure with a shawl on his head waving at her from the bottom of the peak – it was Mir, he had written her name in large letters with twigs and leaves in the fresh snow.
Della often came to London and it was there that Murtaza gaveher a copy of If I am Assassinated and signed it ‘with best wishes to Della’. Shah, more effusive, signed below ‘with lots of love’. In London the brothers changed apartments regularly, Della didn’t know if it was to do with security but Murtaza always wrote the different numbers and addresses in her diary himself. She used a small deep purple Asprey diary and Murtaza’s slanted cursive handwriting fills several boxes – 42 Lowndes Square is one address, oddly close to the Pakistani embassy, and 72 Stanhope Mews was the last address he wrote. On his birthday, his twenty-fourth, Della joined him in London and they went back to Trader Vic’s to celebrate. He wore Azzaro cologne that year, Della remembers, switching to Gray Flannel the next – he would wear the Geoffrey Beene cologne for the rest of his life – and wore, Della insists, only Turnbull & Asser shirts and silk suits. She wore long gypsy dresses, in fashion at the time, and embroidered peasant blouses. Murtaza often smoked Romeo y Julieta cigars, Che’s favourite brand, and slipped the red cigar bands onto Della’s fingers. Together, they visited Oxford and met Murtaza’s tutors – he still had a master’s thesis that occupied him – and Della accompanied Murtaza to Parliament, where he gave a briefing on Pakistan to a gathering of MPs. Murtaza was shy, Della remembered; she thought it would take a few months before he became comfortable with this sort of thing. But it wasn’t the MPs, it was Della; Murtaza had grown up with crowds and had campaigned vigorously for his father, giving speeches and doing door-to-door from an early age. He
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