Late last week, the world received word that Jean-Claude Duvalier, otherwise known as "Baby Doc," the one-time ruler of Haiti, had died, victim of a heart attack, at the age of 63.  Few people outside of Duvalier's family, I suspect, will mourn his passing.  All evidence indicates that his was a brutal reign, a time of unchecked secret police activity, unrelenting torture of those whom Duvalier disliked, and widespread governmental graft and corruption.  When he voluntarily stepped down from his dictatorship in 1986, Duvalier reportedly held hundreds of millions in foreign bank accounts, stolen from his native land, and went on to live a "good" life in southern France.
     In recent years, however, Duvalier returned to Haiti, saying that he wanted to help the country rebuild in the wake of hurricane damage and a national ennui.  Although not many Haitians believed him, he stayed.  As I pondered Duvalier's passing, I thought frequently of a verse from the fourth chapter of Ecclesiastes.  It reads, "There is no end to all the people, to all who were before them, and even the ones who will come later will not be happy with him [a ruler], for this too is vanity [futility] and striving after wind."
     Thrust into Haiti's spotlight at the age of 19, when his father, "Papa Doc," died, Duvalier lived a life, though it was marked with influence, wealth, and power, was ultimately a life spent in futility.  The tragedy is enormous.  Duvalier could have done a great deal for his native land; instead, he did a great deal for himself.  Now, neither he nor Haiti are better off for it.
     As the old hymn goes, "Be Thou my vision, Lord, be Thou my vision."