I’ve been thinking about the four Americans murdered
in the attack on the US consulate in Benghazi this week. There’s something
about the violation of diplomatic privilege (one of the foundations of
international law and therefore of civilization) that really bothers me.
Yeah, I know—embassies and consulates can be
hotbeds of propaganda, espionage and all kinds of other chicanery. But civilized
nations basically turn a blind eye to that sort of thing and agree that we’ll
all focus on positive activities, like exchanging cultural icons instead of
artillery shells.
And the people who work in those compounds—well, some
of them may well be carpetbaggers or political appointees (in fact—most ambassadors
are both; the posher the posting, the bigger the presidential campaign contributor and the greater the likelihood that the incumbent is a buffoon); but the rest
are in it because they believe they can do some good, or they want to
experience different cultures, or both.
Especially in backwater or dangerous postings like
the ex-Soviet Bloc or much of Africa, they aren’t there to make a quick buck,
score a trophy spouse or smuggle diamonds. They work long hours processing travel
visas, bailing Americans out of local jails and facilitating commerce. In a
lot of these places they struggle with a lower standard of living, trying not
to transgress local customs and convincing their kids that their lives haven’t
been ruined forever just because they’re spending their high school years in
Kinshasa instead of Kansas City.
Christopher Stevens, our Ambassador, was a career
diplomat who had already served twice in Libya. That place would never be
considered a garden spot, and Stevens had experienced it as Deputy Chief of
Mission under Gadhafi and as Special Representative to the National
Transitional Council last year. Other assignments included stints in Jerusalem,
Damascus and Cairo.
Stevens was Bay Area born and bred—well known, well-liked and well-respected (from what I’ve seen in local media). Between earning
his BA in history from UC Berkeley and his law degree from Hastings, he volunteered
with the Peace Corps to teach English in Morocco. He gave up what must have
been a very comfortable practice as an international trade lawyer to join the Foreign
Service and take not-at-all cushy postings.
If anyone could have been said to be a friend of
Arabs and Libyans, Chris Stevens clearly was that person. He was a stand-up
guy.
Sean Smith was an Information Management Officer for
the State Department. You know he could have been making shedloads more money
doing IT in the private sector; see above about the higher standard of
living. His assignments included Baghdad, Pretoria and The Hague.
In addition to his Foreign Service work, though,
Smith was well-known in the universe of online gaming. Under the name Vile Rat,
his persona was of a senior diplomat in the sci fi world of EVE Online. Being a
consummate geek, Vile Rat kept in touch with his EVE swarm, even while under
fire in Baghdad.
On Tuesday, he was likewise on Jabber, IM’d “GUNFIRE”, and then was gone.
One of Smith’s EVE colleagues posted this obit. I have to say that I
don’t understand a whole lot of the MMORPG lingo. But I do pick up on the shock and sorrow and sense of utter loss. And; I get the feeling that Smith was
a mensch.
We don’t really know about the two security guys—the
Washington Post reported the name of one of them, but evidently (at the time of
writing) the State Department hasn’t confirmed him. It looks like they were
both employees of a private security firm, and you could argue that they were
thus compensated very well for their work. Probably. They had to know that an
assignment at Benghazi carried its risks. And if it was a gamble for them,
they paid full freight.
On Wednesday, there was a gathering of Libyans in
Benghazi. It was a peaceful
protest against the attack on the consulate, and the people carried signs
instead of RPGs:
I imagine that coming out in daylight, with hand-made
signs, in that country was not without risks and I am moved by this.
But I’m still really disturbed by the attack, and genuinely saddened by the waste of men who were bent on nothing but trying to
make the world better.
