The tsunami that killed more than 200,000 people (according to the latest count) in southern Asia last month stirred what seemed like the whole gamut of emotions, from horror and pity through frustration to admiration and relief. At times, one felt a twinge of cynicism, as when some foreign governments attached a spider web of strings to an aid pledge even as it jostled to be crowned most generous. At other times, one felt almost elated, as reports trickled in of new amity between old foes, be they rebels and government troops shelving their weapons in Indonesia or former U.S. Presidents George H.W. Bush and Bill Clinton getting together to lead a fundraising drive. Only outrage was missing. But that has begun to change.

In the beginning, the tsunami saga stood apart from the daily drumbeat of bad news -- about war, genocide, suicide bombings, mine disasters and the like -- by virtue of its innocence. For once there seemed to be literally no one to blame for death and destruction.

A few attempts were made to pinpoint a bad guy. There was talk, for instance, that more should have been done to put warning systems in place. But the absence of such mechanisms never became a scandal on the scale of the bureaucratic snafus that caused probably hundreds of needless deaths following the Kobe earthquake a decade ago. Instead, efforts to develop warning systems as speedily as possible have rightly taken precedence over recrimination for past inaction.