The "Diaries of Field Marshal Muhammad Ayub Khan: 1966-72," a 599-page tome, recently published by Oxford University Press, has given some heartburn to everyone. It has kicked up controversy not only in Pakistan, but also in neighbouring India with a lukewarm response from Bangladesh. We never expected kind words from a depraved dictator since much of his political woes had come from us.

Listen to Humayun Gauhar, son of Ayub's trusted friend Altaf Gauhar. He writes in The Nation, a Pakistani daily, that Ayub had lost his grip after 1965. He was struggling with bouts of depression, torturing himself over the terrible defeat in the war, followed by an illness that nearly killed him. The remaining years of his life were marked by disloyalty, betrayal and paranoia.

Humayun then gives us the bottom line, "It is time to say loud and clear that the President was deliberately mistreated in order to kill him." All conspirators were Ayub's own people including his military "son" Yahya and political "son" Bhutto, he confirms.

That should explain why the book thoroughly reeks of bitterness left in the mouth of an ousted dictator. Ayub has trained his fire on everyone who got his goat and ranted like a madman. He lambasted people and nation, calling names to friends, foes and followers, sparing not even Pir Dewal Sharif, his spiritual mentor.

Perhaps the conditions surrounding the time of writing suggest that an agonised Ayub could have been in a state of less-than-lucid mind. People like F.S. Aijazuddin, who wrote in The Asian Age, have squarely questioned the source and authenticity of the book.

One of the revelations in the book has sent shockwaves to India. Ayub talks about an Indian Director of Military Intelligence from the 1950s who had sold the country's war plans to the Pakistanis for 20,000 rupees. This has drawn flak from the Indian side, and when questioned about this Indian "mole," Ayub's son Gohar Ayub gave a description that fits none other than India's most revered general Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw.

There have been angry protests from many people in India including its former Chief of Army Staff General Shankar Roy Choudhary. But more than protests this type of unrestrained remarks have undermined the credibility of the book. The book should have produced more evidence and Gohar Ayub should have backed up his description with real proof.

If the book was impounded for all these years so that its "sensitive material" ceased to be part of contemporary history, why couldn't it come back with a bit more flesh around facts?

When it comes to East Pakistan, Ayub argues with Freudian aplomb. "I am surprised at the Bengali outlook," he writes and then goes on to explain his hypothesis. "It doesn't conform to any rational yardstick. They were exploited by the caste Hindus, the Muslim rulers and even the British."

Then he castigated the Bengalis for their failure to appreciate how the advent of Pakistan had got them the blessing of freedom and equality. Not only that, goes on an exasperated Ayub, the Bengalis even spurned the Muslim traditions and the Urdu language, making themselves vulnerable to Hindu culture.

One couldn't expect loftier views of culture and society from a man whose vision went as far as the barrel of his gun. Yes, he had done many cosmetic changes in the country, built roads and buildings-the credit for the planning of Sangshad Bhaban, Television Bhaban and the Second Capital in East Pakistan and countless more projects in West Pakistan goes to his times.

We have had a homegrown military ruler who ruled us for nine years and built many fantastic roads. There is something interesting about military regimes. They connect places, but not so much the people.

If anything, that truth becomes obvious in Ayub's book as litany of curses and ridicules runs page after page. In many places he draws erratic conclusions about events and people. And one doesn't have to read the whole book before one starts wondering whether it is about history or hysteria, an idle prattle between attractive covers, which tells us that when powerful people lose power, they lose their minds and write books.

During the Civil War, the American people complained about Abraham Lincoln's funny stories. His critics said that he was frivolous and his own Secretary of War referred to him as an ape. But then Lincoln rose to the stature of a great leader by taking care of some pretty serious business. He ended the civil war, abolished slavery and united his country.

One can't say the same thing about Ayub;s legacy. His private ambition and lack of political wisdom planted the seed of discord, which turned into a civil war in East Pakistan and divided his country.

He ruled people by fear and they hated him so much that when one of his Basic Democracy members was bitten by a dog in East Pakistan, a newspaper carried a headline story. It was amused that the dog knew where to sink its teeth.

Ayub's diaries are a lesson in history that, sooner or later, all books close on life. The dictator missed his chances to amuse us when he was alive. He ruled by dictate and fancy of mind. Little did we know that he would make a comeback to finish his role! The book closes on the irreversible truth that one can defer destiny, but one can't escape it. It is recommended for leaders of his kind, but entertainment for rest of us.

Mohammad Badrul Ahsan is a banker.