ISLAMABAD, Pakistan - For the six months he helped execute the "hearts and minds" outreach of the United States in one of the most dangerous front lines of the American battle against militants, Stephen D. Vance had to balance a strategic mission with nearly daily concerns about his personal safety.
Yesterday, as he was arriving at his office in a residential area of turbulent Peshawar, he was shot and killed by gunmen, becoming the most prominent casualty of an increasingly troubled effort to use economic aid to undercut the hold of al-Qaida and the Taliban on Pakistan's tribal areas.
The assassination of Vance, 52, highlighted the problems inherent in the effort to bring development to one of the most underdeveloped and volatile regions of the world. It also raised new doubts about American efforts to undermine a major adversary in a stronghold that has proved largely impervious to both political and military pressure.
The U.S. Agency for International Development is spending $750 million to support economic development in the tribal areas of Pakistan. But congressional critics of the program have already questioned how the spending could be effective, or even monitored, if Americans could not visit the areas where the projects were under way.
"He was worried about his security; he was always talking security with me," said Khalid Aziz, a Pakistani development expert, who had worked with Vance since his arrival in Pakistan earlier this year.
A contractor hired by the development agency, Vance was forbidden for safety reasons to travel to the nearby hostile tribal region that was the focus of his efforts, colleagues said. He was confined to Peshawar, where he lived with his wife and five children, ages 1 to 13. But he traveled in an unarmored car, unlike American diplomats working at the U.S. consulate in Peshawar, who are required to be driven in bulletproof vehicles.
Lynne Tracy, the top U.S. diplomat in Peshawar, narrowly escaped a similar attack in August as she was driven in an armored vehicle in the same neighborhood, called University Town.
Though colleagues described Vance as committed to bringing U.S. aid to trouble spots, they said he felt frustrated that he could not go out and meet people, and instead had to glean his knowledge by inviting people to his office.
"He was committed but questioned the wisdom of doing it here," said a colleague who knew Vance well but who did not want to be named for fear of endangering his job. "He was aware of the danger. We talked about it often."