Benazir Bhutto's Assassination

Today we drove from Phoenix to La Jolla, CA (just north of San Diego.) We enjoyed amazing views from Point Loma this afternoon, and a delicious dinner in La Jolla tonight.  A very good day indeed, and by tomorrow night we'll be home in Berkeley.

Before leaving this morning I read about Benazir Bhutto's assassination.  This sad news stayed with me throughout our windy drive across the desert, and our more temperate drive along the coast.  It was the lead news story on NPR this afternoon, but throughout the morning--when we were listening to CDs rather than the radio--the dark fact of the murder kept creeping into my mind.

I'm not sure why. It's certainly not because I'm an expert on Pakistan. Next month I'll need to talk to Helen's business school colleague Ali Butt, a native Pakistani, for such a perspective.  I have a superficial grasp of the power struggles between the various political parties in Pakistan, and a solid hunch that the US has placed too much trust in Pervez Musharraf's ability to combat terrorism. But you should talk to someone else if you want an informed opinion about these issues.

Bhutto's death struck a more elemental chord with me. Although it occurred in Pakistan, inhumanity manifests itself everywhere and strikes unequally.  My life is very easy; my hardest decision today was what to order for dinner.  That's mighty small potatoes compared to the millions of people in Pakistan now mourning and fearing for their lives in the violent aftermath of Bhutto's death.

Today Pakistan, tomorrow somewhere else.  That's the reason for my sadness,  I guess. 

The comforting thing is that there's goodness in this world too, which struggles to make the news.  Perhaps this means that violent acts are the aberration and not the norm.  I hope so.