Fatima traces back to tell the Bhuttos’ tale

Her striking looks recall her famous aunt, slain Pakistani politician Benazir Bhutto, but Fatima Bhutto, who has penned a memoir of her family's blood-soaked history, says the resemblance ends there.

Far from the firestorm in Pakistan, Fatima Bhutto is currently launching her controversial memoir, Songs of Blood and Sword, in London. A recent launch event at the British Academy of Film and Television Arts was well attended by Pakistani expatriates, attired in their designer best and armed with fierce opinions about the Bhutto family. For the most part, that is.

At the post-launch reception, an acquaintance complained that Bhutto had not made any revelations, jibed that Pakistanis ask dumb (read tame) questions, and concluded that all political blather is a waste of time. “In that case, why are you here?” I asked. His pat answer: “Because Fatima is smoking hot.” This crass response is not an uncommon reaction to Bhutto, whose good looks have been reviewed almost as vigorously as her latest book. In a profile for TheTelegraph, Janine di Giovanni wrote: “Fatima is tiny and beautiful, but largely unaware of her beauty.... Her face is clear of make-up (unlike her aunt, who adored red lipstick and thick foundation).” The Guardian’s Susanna Rustin opted for similar adjectives, painting Bhutto as “beautiful, small and elegant”. Esteemed writer Khushwant Singh was more profuse in his praise, describing Bhutto as a “stunner” and waxing eloquent about the “pinhead of a diamond sparkling on the left side of her nose and her long jet-black curly hair falling on her shoulders”. Even Bhutto’s publishers felt that her looks should be exploited to sell her books — the back flap of the book jacket is virtually free of text, plastered instead with a striking, softly lit profile picture of the writer. In 2010, in an era that has often been described as post-feminist, this sort of commentary about a female writer should be unacceptable. It should be considered inappropriate to blatantly objectify someone who has put herself in the public sphere in the capacity of a journalist, a historian, a memoirist, and even a political figure. What, after all, does Bhutto’s presence have to do with her prose, political convictions and propensity for historical research? Bhutto’s detractors, who have described her as naïve and biased, and her work as fictionalised or poorly researched, are showing her more respect than those who gush over her beauty. Such critics are engaging with her on the terms that she has asked the world to engage with her on — as a writer, a historian, an intellectual. In taking her to task, they have placed her memoir — not her appearance — under scrutiny. Unfortunately, Bhutto is not the first Pakistani woman who has braved the public sphere on the might of her brains, only to be judged on the basis of her beauty. One of Pakistan’s leading novelists, a brilliant and witty woman, laughingly confessed that for a while, if you Googled her name, the search engine would toss up the word ‘husband’ as a popular prompt. In other words, this writer’s fans were more interested in finding out if she’s snagged a man than in her titles, teaching experience or book tours. It is also well known that no women are more attacked or appraised for their fashion choices than Pakistan’s ministers and parliamentarians. Female politicians who care for their appearance are often accused of indulging in inappropriate acts to get to the top; those who don’t are mercilessly mocked. Precious little is said about their policy initiatives as compared to the hefty debate on their kurtas and kajol. Further, among female columnists I know, there is a running joke that our best work incites the most marriage proposals. Indeed, feedback to these columns is regularly peppered with propositions and judgments (both good and bad) on my looks. By including an email address at the end of this column, I open myself up to criticism, correction, education, and, yes, on a good day, praise. Having my profile picture evaluated is not part of my job description.

In a post-Zia era, Pakistani women are starting to take flight on the wings of women’s rights activists (the term ‘feminist’ has been out of vogue most of my adult life). They are making their mark as professionals, academics, athletes, journalists, writers, bankers and more. Granted, most of these women are educated, urban, and hail from the middle or upper classes. But that trend, too, is changing. As increasing poverty, unemployment and inflation put enormous pressure on families, women from all social strata are being compelled to contribute to the household income. And here’s a little advance lesson based on global economic trends: women who work enjoy a disposable income, and are good about saving a little something at the end of each month. They often spend these savings on themselves; on their education, health, fitness, beauty and fashion. That means the more learned, financially empowered and self-sufficient women get, the better they look. This is why Pakistanis need to train themselves for a future in which women — beautiful, stylish, well-groomed women — will succeed in different arenas. And like Bhutto today, these women will deserve to be evaluated on the strength of their formulations, not their form. For once, our government has set the right precedent. On an abstract level, the recently approved Protection against Harassment of Women at the Workplace Bill was calling for just this: that women who work no longer be objectified, sexualised, harassed, or privileged on the basis of their looks. If our law has enshrined a value, we should embrace it. More importantly, we should celebrate Pakistani women for the skills, talent, professionalism and intellectual merit that they have to offer.