Another lost chance of peace from assassination

One of the themes I've written about (mostly on my main blog, as I hadn't created this blog back then - see, for instance, here, here, and here), is the massive harm assassination can do - ranging from the prevention of the ability to heal the rift in US society caused by the loss of Abraham Lincoln, through the near century long insanity unleashed under the pretext of the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand, to the robbing from West Asia of peace caused by the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin.

All murders are destructive - for all involved or touched by that act; causing more widespread harm adds to the evil.

And now I've come across another example of nations being robbed of peace, this time in Central Asia.

From here:

My childhood memories of the day Azerbaijan lost Shusha in 1992 are still vivid. I recall one old man weeping because Armenian forces had captured the city. Looking at the replica mosque in Jojug Mercanli, I remember when, the year before, on 20 November 1991, an Azerbaijani helicopter carrying a peace mission – Azerbaijani, Kazakh and Russian officials set to discuss an early end to fighting – was shot down in Nagorno-Karabakh. The crash, I believe, altered the conflict’s trajectory – and maybe that of Azerbaijan itself. At the time, there may have been a chance of resolving the conflict without further bloodshed. But it was not to be. One of the dead was Ismet Gayibov, the public prosecutor general and my father’s colleague. He was a remarkable man, an intellectual of strong character. In a single incident, the country lost several such high-quality politicians and thinkers only a month after it regained independence.

How can the world respond to such assassinations better?

It is fairly obvious, and a bit trite, to say "well, continue to act as if the assassination had not happened", as that ignores the reality of human emotion and the very real loss of being denied the murdered person's perspective, skills, and status, and yet it is the only thing I can think of right now.

I've been pondering this quandary for many years now, and suspect I will do so till the day I die.