Did Washington policy on ransom contribute to James Foley's killing?
But Foley’s execution is also a chilling wake-up call for US and European policymakers, as well as US news outlets and aid organizations. It is the clearest evidence yet of how vastly different responses to kidnappings by US and European governments save European hostages but can doom the US ones.
“I wish I could have the hope of freedom and seeing my family once again, but that ship has sailed,” Foley said moments before he was killed in a craven video released by the militant group on Tuesday. “I guess, all in all, I wish I wasn’t American.”
Foley clearly spoke under duress. But his regret at being a US captive, real or not, reflected grim fact.
This spring, four French and two Spanish journalists held hostage by the Islamic State extremists were freed. The US government refused to negotiate or pay a ransom in Foley’s case or for any other US captives.
With the help of an Afghan journalist abducted with me, I was lucky enough to escape. But today Foley is dead and the Islamic State militants now say Steven Sotloff, a journalist for Time magazine whom the group also captured, will be killed if the United States does not stop bombing its fighters in Iraq.
There are no easy answers in kidnapping cases. The US cannot allow terrorist groups to control its foreign policy.
One clear lesson that has emerged in recent years, however, is that security threats are more effectively countered by united American and European action. The divergent US and European approach to abductions fails to deter captors or consistently safeguard victims.
Last month, a New York Times investigation found that al Qaeda and its direct affiliates had received at least US$125 million in revenue from kidnappings since 2008 — primarily from European governments. In the last year alone, they received US$66 million.
“Kidnapping hostages is an easy spoil,” Nasser al-Wuhayshi, the leader of al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula, wrote in a 2012 letter to the leader of an al Qaeda affiliate in North Africa, “which I may describe as a profitable trade and a precious treasure.”
Publicly, European governments deny making these payments. But former diplomats told the Times that ransoms have been paid.
Kidnapping as a fundraising tactic is thriving and rates are going up. In 2003, a ransom of roughly US$200,000 was paid for each captive.
Hostage-taking by extremist groups is now so pervasive that at least one major aid organization is not sending US aid workers to areas where they might be abducted. Instead, they are sending citizens from European countries with governments that will pay ransoms.
The cases have taken on a grim pattern: hostages are abducted, months pass with no news from the captors and a threatening video or email is then sent to families. In some cases, the militants ask that cases not be made public so ransom can be paid quietly.
This was the case in Foley’s tortuous, 21-month abduction. For the first 16 months after Foley was taken captive, his family had no information regarding his whereabouts. They learned he was alive from two Spanish journalists who were freed by the Islamic State in March. In a subsequent email message, the captors instructed the family to keep the case quiet and not identify the Islamic State as the kidnappers. Fearing for Foley’s life, the family obeyed.
Privately, the Foleys and other families have grown intensely frustrated with the failure of US officials to negotiate with the captors. US government officials also refused to coordinate their response in any way with European governments. In the days and weeks ahead, the Foley family will speak for themselves about their ordeal. But the payment of ransoms and abduction of foreigners must emerge from the shadows. It must be publicly debated.