On the assassination of Benazir Bhutto
Benazir Bhutto was my classmate at Oxford in the 1970s. That is not the opening sentence of a feel-good encomium to cosmopolitanism. Nor is it the start of a personal reminiscence or statement of regret, though I am sad. It is a small note of personal connection to the growing political tragedy in Pakistan. What follows is a reflection on that tragedy.
Editor’s Note: This essay originally appeared as a posting on the SSRC blog The Immanent Frame
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