Oscar Pistorius, who ran in the Olympics on carbon-fibre blades, has been arrested and charged with the murder of his girlfriend, who was shot dead at his home in Pretoria. Her name was Reeva Steenkamp and she was twenty-nine years old. There has been talk in the press that he mistook her for an intruder, and maybe he did—the investigation is in its first stages. Brigadier Denise Beukes said, though, that “we are not sure where this report came from; it definitely didn’t come from the South African police service.” Beukes, who did not use Steenkamp’s name, pending her family’s identification of the body (though it was widely reported), added that there was no other suspect involved. There were witnesses—“we’re talking about neighbors and people that heard things”—but “the only two persons on the premises were the resident and the deceased.”
What the police do know is that they have been to the home before. “I can confirm that there has previously been incidents at the home of Oscar Pistorius.” Pressed, she said that they had involved “allegations of domestic nature.” Beukes said that Steenkamp had been shot four times: “It’s a 9-mm pistol. It is a licensed firearm. It is licensed to Mr. Pistorius.”
What exactly brought the police to Pistorius’s house those other days? And what persuaded them to walk away? Again, we don’t know yet, and maybe a comparison to all the visits that the police made to the home of O. J. Simpson, leaving without doing much of anything, is too facile at this point. Or maybe it comes too late, in terms of Steenkamp’s life. A famous man—or any person—learns very quickly what protects him, and what leaves a person close to him vulnerable. Pistorius and Steenkamp were a well-known couple. She was a model and had been on reality shows, and also studied law at Nelson Mandela Metropolitan University. They were photographed at parties; she had tweeted about looking forward to Valentine’s Day. (She had also, in the past, tweeted and retweeted about the problem of rape and violence against women in South Africa.)
“She was an amazing girl, a really intelligent person,” a former editor of the South African edition of the magazine FHM told the Guardian. “It’s a hammer blow…. I’ve been trying to process it. It’s a real tragedy that such a bright girl has gone.”
Pistorius hasn’t spoken publicly yet. He was led from the police station with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head; he will be in court tomorrow. His father reportedly told the South African Broadcasting Company that his son was “sad at the moment,” adding, “I don’t know the facts.” According to the AP, his former coach, Andrea Giannini, “said he hopes it was ‘just a tragic accident.’” But even the scenarios that exculpate Pistorius raise practical questions about guns.
We have heard a good deal from the N.R.A. in the last couple of months about how a gun defends a home. Wayne LaPierre, the group’s executive vice-president and increasingly unhinged public face, has been out talking about how everyone needs a gun to be prepared for a coming time of financial crisis and natural disaster. South Africa and the United States are distinct countries with different gun cultures, but people are not so different. The array of objects within arm’s reach can turn a moment of rage to something worse in any country. A gun in the house makes it more likely that domestic violence will lead to murder. (The Times has a story this morning about how living with guns has also been connected to dying by suicide.) Oscar Pistorius’s gun did not keep Reeva Steenkamp safe. Living in a house with many guns did not keep Kasandra Perkins safe when Jovan Belcher, the father of her child, shot her and then himself.
There is much to admire in the confidence that made Pistorius believe that he could challenge world running federations, and make them let him run. There was a clarity there, and inspiration, and the right kind of pride. (This morning, someone reportedly took a Nike ad with the line “I am the bullet in the chamber” off of his Web site.) There will be plenty of talk, too, about what brings athletes to both the highest levels of sports and to a place of domestic tragedy—publicity, pressure, even the unsettling question of performance-enhancing drugs and their psychological effects. That discussion is worth having. But what matters even more is what can happen in any home, in any room, with a man and a woman and a gun.
Photograph by Thembani Makhubele/Reuters.
