Into a cauldron of uncertainty

Two years ago Asif Zardari, the husband of the former Pakistani prime minister Benazir Bhutto, flew into Lahore in an attempt to revive opposition to the country's military ruler General Pervez Musharraf. The stunt was an inglorious flop.

Before the plane had even docked at Lahore airport, a senior police officer stepped on board and shook hands with Mr Zardari. "Please come with me," he whispered into his ear. Mr Zardari, who had already served five years behind bars, meekly complied. Then a wall of brawny, tracksuit-wearing policemen surrounded the reporters on board, including this one, and started to rummage through their bags, confiscating notes and videotapes.

Tomorrow Ms Bhutto will try the same trick again when she flies from Dubai to Karachi, eight years after she fled into self-imposed exile. This time, though, the outcome promises to be very different.

An infectious Bhutto buzz has gripped Karachi for the first time in a decade. Giant posters of the opposition leader in her trademark white headscarf hang from every streetlamp. Buses from across the country are arriving, carrying tens of thousands of party faithful. Last night swarms of young men weaved through the dense traffic on motorbikes, waving posters and honking their horns.

When Ms Bhutto lands at 1pm (0900 BST) tomorrow, her party expects 1 million people to be waiting to greet her. If they are right, she will take the entire afternoon to reach her first stop, the tomb of Pakistan's founder, Muhammad Ali Jinnah - a highly symbolic choice. Mr Jinnah was the secular lawyer who founded Pakistan in 1947. Now Ms Bhutto - the scion of the country's dominant political dynasty - wants to ressurect that vision and defeat the threat of violence Islamism.

But her homecoming is clouded by dark compromises and immense uncertainty. The police will be protecting rather than arresting Ms Bhutto thanks to a controversial deal with President Musharraf. Due to his plummeting popularity, Gen Musharraf wants to befriend Ms Bhutto and broaden his appeal before general elections due by mid-January. And his British and American allies would like their strategic partner to maintain a democratic veneer. So to ease Ms Bhutto's return , the general recently signed an amnesty that shields her from a raft of annoying corruption charges dating back to her last term of office in 1996. Slightly embarrassed, the two sides tried to package it as "national reconciliation". But nobody was fooled.

The papers have been filled with vitriolic criticism. For many the thinly disguised political deal is an unpleasant reminder of the greasy-palmed 90s, when Ms Bhutto's husband was known as "Mister 10%" and the economy tipped towards insolvency.

Ms Bhutto rejects the allegations as politically motivated, which may well be true. Corruption cases are a favoured tool of political one-upmanship in Pakistan. But it is harder for her to explain the motivations of public prosecutors in Switzerland and Spain investigating tales of backhanders, offshore accounts and several hundred million dollars - unless she accuses them of having some irrational beef with the Bhutto family.

But perhaps that doesn't matter so much after all. Corruption is a secondary political issue in Pakistan. Most voters simply take it for granted - and after all, several army generals have also become inexplicably wealthy in recent years. Curiously, their good fortune comes at a time of surging US aid.

What really threatens Ms Bhutto's tottering reputation is her political courtship with Gen Musharraf. Since the 1970s, when her father, Zulfikar Bhutto, was hanged by a general, opposition to military rule has been the 'sine qua non' of her Pakistan People's party. Ms Bhutto herself was detained by a military dictator, Zia ul Haq, for many years in the 1980s, but now she is giving a second, five-year presidential pass to a sitting army general. Stung supporters feel badly betrayed.

Pragmatists say that principle is a luxury anywhere, and that this is simply Pakistani politics at its most full-blooded and intriguing. Perhaps, they reason, Ms Bhutto, a seasoned pro, is simply playing her cards well. History shows that leaders as unpopular as Gen Musharraf - his approval rating was 21% in a recent poll - don't tend to last long. And much can change, quickly.

The Sphinx-like supreme court is a potential spoiler for both sides. In the coming weeks it must decide on the validity of Gen Musharraf's sweeping October 6 re-election, and the legality of Ms Bhutto's amnesty. A decision against either will tip the country into a fresh crisis and, possibly bring about the imposition of martial law.

The ruling party PML-Q party, which has most to lose from her return, is rubbing its hands in glee. In Washington this week, the prime minister, Shaukat, Aziz noted that there had been a "strong reaction" to the corruption amnesty. If Ms Bhutto won't stay away until the legal challenge is settled, he sighed, well who knows if she will face arrest in the future?

And then, of course, there is the x-factor - not inconsiderable in a country where power has changed hand through military coups and mysterious plane crashes more frequently than through any democratic action.

When her plane descends on Karachi tomorrow lunchtime, Ms Bhutto will undoubtedly be delighted to be finally home. The size of the crowd awaiting her will speak to the size of her popularity. But whether it will be a truly soft landing is hard to tell.

As she may soon discover the ground below is bumpy, unpredictable and highly treacherous. She only need ask her husband.