Even by subcontinental standards, yesterday was hot in Pakistan. As Benazir Bhutto and her entourage walked down the steps of their plane at Karachi airport at lunchtime, the former prime minister seemed unbothered by the oppressive heat during the hottest part of the day. If anything, she was delighted to be able to enjoy it again. Visibly moved by the experience of being back on Pakistani soil (or, rather, tarmac) for the first time in 8 years, her tears seemed genuine enough. Certainly, they were sufficient to ensure that the media hoards who had gathered to record her grand homecoming were able to see the human side of the woman who is setting out to transform Pakistani politics. If she was overwhelmed by emotion at being back in Pakistan, perhaps her tears were also cried partly out of uncertainty, for she cannot have been ignorant of what was likely to lie ahead.

The levels of support she received were impressive, too. Crowds of epic proportions turned out to meet her plane and thronged the route that her cavalcade was to take. Chanting slogans of ‘Jiye Bhutto’ (long live Bhutto) and ‘Wazir-i-Azam Benazir’ (Prime Minister Benazir), it was a colourful occasion, as these things so often are in Pakistan. Flags were being waved, there was dancing and singing, street-hawkers made a month’s profit in a day and there was the general party atmosphere.

Given the press that Pakistan has received,of late and the way in which much of the country is perceived by the west, the reaction to Benazir Bhutto’s triumphant return is a marker of why this country’s soul is worth fighting for. Despite having a traditionally conservative population and an administration which has upheld laws which severely limit women’s rights (the Koranic Hudood and Zina ordinances, for instance), hundreds of thousands, of men and women alike were nevertheless willing to turn out to cheer on a woman whom they perceived to be their political saviour. It is now just as it was when Mrs Bhutto was still Prime Minister – the fact that she is a woman, to a majority of Pakistanis, simply does not seem to matter. Furthermore, that she represents, for the timebeing, the country’s single best hope of re-establishing democracy seems to be of infinitely more importance.

Sadly, everything in Pakistan has another side to it. As Mrs Bhutto’s cavalcade moved slowly towards the Quaid’s Mausoleum where she was due to address another large crowd, the party which had heralded her return was reaching its peak. The oppressive heat was no obstacle; if anything, it had brought even more out on to the streets. The two explosions which then tore through the crowds around Mrs Bhutto’s armoured vehicle served as a shocking reminder of that ‘other’ side. The party had been gatecrashed in the most shocking way. Leaving at least 125 dead and as many as 300 injured, the twin blasts, which were almost certainly caused by a suicide bomber (something of which the Pakistani media has no doubt), failed to wound Mrs Bhutto, but that is hardly the point. That a suicide bomber could get so close to so high-profile a figure is a damning indictment of the inability of the Pakistani security services to protect their own (unless, of course, they were not so keen on protecting Mrs Bhutto in the first place). Furthermore, the attack demonstrates, as if a demonstration were needed, that there are significant factions in Pakistan who are very keen indeed not to allow a woman (and a woman who is as staunchly pro-democracy as Mrs Bhutto) to enter the political process.

Most of those factions, it is fair to say, reside in the Northwest Frontier Province, which borders Afghanistan. Here, the ‘other’ side of Pakistan has its heartlands. Lawlessness is endemic to the extent that much of it is a no-go area even for the Pakistani military and it is generally thought that the remote, mountainous tribelands around Peshawar are likely to harbour Osama bin Laden amongst others. The more extreme elements of sharia law are practiced here and stonings are commonplace. The brutality of the area is well-known in Pakistan and is shocking to Pakistanis as much as to the rest of the world.

The attack on Benazir Bhutto last night, then, encapsulates the battle which Pakistan has to fight. Increasingly, it is a battle which has been brought to the moderate elements within the country. The recent siege of the Red Mosque in Islamabad, for instance, saw violent Islamic extremism striking at the very heart of Pakistan, forcing a relatively unpopular government to make itself yet more unpopular by sending Islamic soldiers in to storm an Islamic holy site. More and more, it is a conflict in which neither side commands very much support: the extremists who would seek to destabilise Pakistan are detested only a little more than the hard-line military government whose sanctions against the militants (and support for America) often antagonises the innocent as much as the guilty.

The bombing of Mrs Bhutto’s convoy itself, also shows the duality of Pakistan. On the one hand, it demonstrates that there are almost no limits to where extremists within Pakistan can operate and no boundaries to how much destruction they are willing create in pursuit of their somewhat esoteric goals. On the other, though, it shows the astonishing courage of the moderate faction within the country.

Benazir Bhutto herself was in no doubt whatsoever as to the severity of the threat to her life if she returned to her native country: she had received numerous death threats from Islamist groups before her return. There cannot be many married mothers of three who would be brave enough to attempt to weather that kind of storm. Perhaps more impressive, though, are the crowds which turned out to meet her. Before landing in Karachi, Mrs Bhutto claimed that there were as many as a million and a half people waiting to cheer her arrival. The number almost certainly was not that high, but it was not too far off. The crowds who turned up to support Mrs Bhutto were not unaware of the danger; almost every one, it is likely, would have considered the possibility that they may be placing themselves in the path of some terrorist act against Mrs Bhutto. Nevertheless, they still came, and they came in awesome numbers.

This, then, is how the people of Pakistan communicate their message of resilience and determination to the rest of the world; this is how much they care about their democracy; this is how highly they value Jinnah’s original vision for a democratic and tolerant Pakistan; this is what they are willing to sacrifice to show us all that they desire a political process, representation and moderation in their country as much as we do in ours; and, therefore, we should not do them the disservice of condemning Pakistan as a lost cause simply because of the contemptible actions of a minority of limb-amputating, adulterer-stoning fundamentalist psychopaths. This formidable, peaceful and serene show of strength on behalf of the moderate factions in Pakistan is more emphatic than a hundred suicide attacks. ‘I cannot teach you violence’, said Ghandi, ‘I can only teach you not to bow your heads before anyone even at the cost of your life’. Yesterday, the crowds who had gathered to welcome Benazir Bhutto back taught us that same lesson. All those on the scaremongering right of the media in Britain and America who would, without pause, condemn Pakistan as an extremist state on the brink of being taken over by ‘Islamofascists’ should pay careful attention.