In March 2017, I visited Diane and John Foley at their home in Rochester, New Hampshire. We spent several hours talking about their experience dealing with U.S. officials; the evolution of hostage policy; and the varying approaches to hostage-taking around the world. Diane had made soup in an electric slow cooker, which she served along with fresh bread. By the early afternoon clouds were building up and a late spring snowstorm was moving in. Diane promised to make introductions to members of her vast network, and over the next few weeks she followed up. On June 29, Diane wrote to Federico Motka and another former hostage held alongside Jim, urging them to speak with me. “Jim’s Legacy Foundation is seeking to bring the truth to light on this issue,” Diane wrote. “May God bless you both in every way.”
Thus began an assignment that brought me face-to-face with former hostages, their families, government officials, intelligence officers, policymakers, security consultants, researchers, and academics. Not surprisingly, I heard a wide variety of views on the question of whether governments should ever pay ransom to terrorists. Over time, I found there were three frameworks through which people tended to view the issue. There were those who saw it as an ethical question, those who saw it as a policy dilemma, and those who saw it as a political problem.
Those who saw it as a matter of ethics came down on both sides of the issue. Some claimed it was morally wrong for a government to allow a citizen to die when they could be saved by paying ransom. Others, that it was wrong for a government to give money to terrorists even if it was to save the life of one of its own citizens. In 2017, Jeffrey Howard, a lecturer at University College London, published an essay entitled “Kidnapped: The Ethics of Paying Ransom” in which he agreed with both of these views. Howard argued that it’s unethical for a government to withhold ransom if the motivation is to deter future kidnappings. This is because the harm caused by refusing to pay (the death of the hostage) is greater than the harm caused by paying (the possibility of additional kidnapping victims, who would also presumably be ransomed). However, the ethical considerations shift if the intent of the government is to deprive terror groups of funding that could be used to kill thousands. Howard concluded that “those who pay ransoms to unjust organizations become reluctant accomplices to those unjust activities” and that therefore “the impermissibility of paying ransoms depends in part on the evil the ransom payments fund.” This moral prohibition applies equally to states and families.
Of course in real life families looking to save their loved ones are not going to be overly concerned with abstract moral arguments. Likewise, governments don’t operate on the basis of ethics, although lawmakers and policymakers may be influenced by such considerations. People I spoke with who looked at the issue from a policy perspective tended to frame their arguments slightly differently, citing pragmatic considerations. Refusing to pay ransom deters future kidnappings, making all citizens safer. Depriving terror organizations of funding ensures these groups don’t have the funds to carry out operations targeting our citizens. However, effective policies tend to be based on solid data and research that demonstrate specific actions are likely to produce specific results. The evidence to support the argument that refusing to pay ransom deters future kidnapping is very thin. Research carried out by the RAND Corporation in the 1970s and recent studies from West Point and the New America Foundation all concluded there was insufficient evidence to demonstrate this correlation. Only a 2016 study published in the European Journal of Political Economy found a deterrent effect.
Those who approach the problem from a political perspective tend to believe that there are too many variables for the question to be addressed through a policy framework. Because European governments that pay ransom deny doing so they can’t publicly justify their actions. But a variety of people I spoke with, from former French hostages to Spanish journalists, said they wanted and expected their country’s leadership to make a decision based on the specific circumstances of each case. Framing the decision to pay or not as fundamentally political allows for greater flexibility, but also means that public sentiment rather than strategic consideration is often the deciding factor.
Governments of course have a legitimate interest in seeking to deprive kidnappers of the benefits of their actions. But the victims of kidnappings have a right to seek the return of their loved ones. Phrases such as “we don’t negotiate with terrorists” or “we make no concessions to terrorists” are political slogans. As Federico Motka noted, your principle should not necessarily be your policy. And as the Royal United Services Institute study determined, a strict no concessions policy may even have a perverse effect, increasing the amount of money going to terrorists while raising the likelihood that hostages will be killed.
Of course, a strict no concessions policy should work perfectly in some kind of political laboratory in which no ransom is ever paid. This would undermine the economic logic of the crime. But it will never happen. Families will find a way to pay. Businesses cannot be expected to walk away and let their employees die. And many European governments, having done the political math, are willing to shell out. The most effective way for hostage takers to put pressure on the governments that do pay is to murder one of the hostages. The disparate policies make the decision easy. Osama Bin Laden’s strategic advice to Al Qaeda was to kill the least valuable hostage. In the current environment that’s likely to be an American or a Brit.
The back and forth between no concessions countries and the countries that pay has not been productive and has not created a consensus. The international legal framework—codified in the January 2014 Security Council Resolution—has not led to a notable reduction in the willingness of governments to pay ransom and to the extent that it is ignored it actually undermines the credibility of the international legal regime.
If it’s not possible to forge a global consensus around no concessions, and if a mixed environment—in which some countries pay ransom and others don’t—produces the worst possible outcomes, then the logical conclusion is to try the opposite approach. That means recognizing that governments will make concessions, and developing a recognized framework for decisionmaking. Fortunately, one already exists. It’s called national security. This is the prism through which most modern nation states make difficult decisions about how to deploy power in defense of their citizens and their interests. Different countries obviously have different conceptions of national security, and these will also vary over time. In many instances, depending on the country and circumstances, paying ransom for the return of a national citizen kidnapped abroad will undermine national security. This is true for the many reasons outlined by British and American officials, including the fact that ransom payments will go to terrorist groups.
But there are other circumstances in which the payment of ransom enhances national security by depriving terrorists of a victim for an execution video or, in the formulation of Florence Aubenas, publicly affirming the regard in which a country holds its citizens at a time when this is being challenged. The ability of terror groups to use modern technologies to disseminate propaganda videos greatly changes the calculation. From ISIS’s twisted perspective, the videos they made of hostages being beheaded or burned in cages greatly increased their visibility, strengthened their “brand,” and aided their recruitment.
From a pure negotiating standpoint, adopting a public posture of “we don’t negotiate with terrorists” is a terrible opening gambit. President Nixon discovered this when he first articulated the policy in 1973. It insults the hostage-takers and undermines the value of the hostages, which is all that keeps them alive. Instead the best posture is one that I call strategic ambiguity, in which governments give no indication about their intentions. To the extent that a government speaks publicly at all about hostage policy it’s probably best to limit the statement to bland expressions like, “our approach is to do all we reasonably can to support the families.” Preserving the life of the hostage, improving trust between families and governments, and creating an atmosphere in which active negotiations are possible has many benefits. It can aid with intelligence-gathering: information that can be used to plan a military rescue should the opportunity present itself, recover the ransom, or bring the perpetrators to justice.
If there is a recognition that national security may require governments in certain situations to seek the release of hostages through the payment of ransom then the question becomes, how should this be achieved? The worst approach is the one practiced by many European countries in which they engage in direct negotiations with the hostage-takers. As Doug Milne notes, governments can’t plead poverty, so once hostage-takers realize they are dealing with a government the demands will almost certainly increase. This inflates the market itself, meaning the amount of money flowing to terrorists actually increases; criminal groups demand more; and families that must fend for themselves struggle to come up with ever larger ransoms. Farming out payments to third-party governments creates some deniability but also fuels the market. When Qatar and Oman decide to intervene and pay ransom, it’s for their own strategic reasons, generally to strengthen their relationship with European powers and to gain influence and leverage. Having determined a strategic opportunity exists, these countries are unlikely to strike a tough deal. A million dollars plus or minus is not going to make a difference to a country like Qatar but could make a big difference in the hostage market. (In April 2017, Qatar paid hundreds of millions of dollars to a Shia militia and a range of intermediaries to free twenty-five members of a royal falcon hunting party taken hostage in southern Iraq.)
Moreover, and as Didier Le Bret argues, the visible involvement of the political leadership sends a terrible message that undermines negotiations and highlights weakness and vulnerability. The ritual of presidents meeting freed hostages at the airport must stop. It’s a crude form of political opportunism that exploits a moment of supreme vulnerability for the hostage to secure a photo op that ultimately benefits the politicians. For the sake of the hostages and their families, homecomings should be quiet affairs, outside the spotlight.
Public mobilizations and media campaigns are an effective tool for putting pressure on governments that are not acting in the best interest of the hostages. But they also complicate negotiations and can fuel the worst instincts of national leaders, which is to use the hostage negotiations for their own political gain. For this reason, such efforts must be managed carefully. “People want to react, whether it makes sense or not,” noted Christophe Deloire, the head of Reporters Without Borders, describing the days and weeks after a hostage is taken. “But the question of strategy is really important. These things can last a really long time and we need a plan. The target is the authorities but it is also the guys who hold the hostage to say to them, ‘this person is precious.’ It would not make sense to kill him or her. And sometimes we can send a message to the hostages themselves, speaking through the media.”
Once it is acknowledged that under certain circumstances and conditions governments will pay, it opens the door for everyone to work together to address the real problem, which is that they pay too much. Governments, families, employers, insurance companies—everyone involved in hostage recovery shares a common interest in reducing the amount of the ransom. An acknowledgment of the shortcomings of the current approach allows a discussion about how to reduce the amount of ransom payment to be more productive and more direct. Research from various studies points to the same conclusion. Hostage-taking is largely opportunistic and unrelated to the hostage policies of a particular country. But those policies are highly relevant to outcomes. Large ransom payments drive up the market and make the crime more attractive. Holding and keeping a hostage for an extended period of time takes resources. Reducing the amount or ransom will not eliminate the crime, but if it reduces the return on investment it might make the crime less attractive. It will certainly ensure that fewer resources go to terrorists.
In order to keep ransom payments down, governments that choose to pay ransom must hide their involvement from the hostage-takers. This can be best accomplished by privatizing the negotiation process. This is already done in criminal cases when a K & R policy is activated and a security consultant is brought on. Increasingly, it is being done in France, which in the last several years began licensing professional hostage negotiators. The quality of security consultants obviously varies considerably. It is also unsavory to see private companies profiting from a family’s misery by helping them deliver money to criminals. Yet it must be acknowledged that the industry has a record of success.
What negotiators can do effectively is front for the government, putting themselves forward as family representatives. If the hostage-takers make political demands, the negotiator can credibly say they are not speaking for the government and try to push the kidnappers toward a financial resolution. Governments should work to expand access to K & R policies to those operating in high-risk environments, including freelance journalists, independent aid workers, and even adventure tourists, as outlined in Chapter Four. Such efforts can be combined with initiatives to educate vulnerable groups about the risk of undertaking such travel without proper preparations.
However, if a kidnapping occurs and the family does not have access to a professional private negotiator because they do not have K & R insurance, then governments should find a way to provide this support. This could be done in cases with clear national security implications, through a government program that compensates security firms. Governments have a clear and compelling interest in ensuring that no family is negotiating directly with a terrorist group without adequate support. This approach requires that the regulation of the K & R industry be relaxed to eliminate the distinction between criminal and terrorist groups—which is, in any case, often arbitrary.
Eliminating the prohibition on paying money to proscribed groups would mean that criminal and terrorist cases would be handled in the same way. A private negotiator would support the families and seek to negotiate a monetary settlement. The families or the employers would be responsible for raising the funds. The government would monitor the negotiations, ensure the families were not defrauded, and in some cases deliver the money. They would also engage in intelligence-gathering that might help them plan and organize a rescue, in the rare cases where they are warranted, or apprehend the kidnappers following the delivery of the ransom. Having a framework in which governments recognize and acknowledge that such arrangements exist and are necessary could improve information-sharing and trust among intelligence agencies since countries that support the payment of ransom would no longer have to hide their involvement from those that do not.
There would be one fundamental variable. In national security cases, families seeking to raise money to pay a ransom might suddenly receive a donation or donations from a concerned individual, or a front company, or a local NGO. The families would not necessarily know where this money came from. Such a system would allow those governments that seek to pay to do so quietly, without drawing attention to their involvement and increasing the demands of the hostage-takers.
This approach recognizes that kidnapping and hostage-taking is a tactic of war and cannot be eliminated. Trying to end kidnapping by blocking the payment of ransom is like trying to wipe out car bombing by banning the sale of gasoline. Brian Jenkins found no correlation between government refusal to pay ransom and a decline in hostage-taking in a particular environment. The only way to end political kidnapping, in Jenkin’s view, is to neutralize the groups that are carrying it out. This can be done through political settlements, as occurred in Colombia and Lebanon; by expanding security, as was done in response to Somali piracy; or by military means, as occurred with Sendero Luminoso in Peru. But it is always a long process.
The underlying principle is that each hostage situation is different and each hostage crisis is different. Hostage policy tends to be made in response to the last crisis, and does not anticipate effectively what might be coming down the road. That is why maximum flexibility should be the goal.
Each country’s media is likely to respond based on its practices and traditions. In France, where unions are stronger and the media tends to be more activist, media organizations have come together to develop joint campaigns and put pressure on the French government. In Spain, there is a consensus around limiting reporting in active hostage cases. In the U.S., a tradition of independence and a growing polarization make that kind of solidarity difficult. But all over the world, the media can agree on certain principles.
Complete “blackouts” of kidnapping cases are often unhelpful; they allow the hostage-takers to control communication and can also obscure areas of growing risk, as occurred in northern Syria in 2013. By the same token, campaigning, crusading, or sensational coverage can often complicate negotiations and should be avoided in active cases. Reporting the size of the ransom payment can also be problematic. I’ve seen two cases in which inaccurate media reports of inflated ransoms caused the hostage-takers to conclude incorrectly that a portion of the ransom had been siphoned off and to take out their frustration on other hostages. Journalists should avoid using images or videos disseminated by terror groups, as the use of such images amplifies terror propaganda. Keeping such images off social media is more challenging. Steps taken by Twitter to investigate and remove users who disseminate terror content have helped, as has the deployment of more sophisticated algorithms. But it’s tremendously distressing that a Google search for David Haines turns up images of his decapitated body. No one has yet come up with a perfect formula on how to limit the availability of such images on social media without undermining free speech.
Finally, governments have a strategic interest in ensuring that families feel supported. This prevents the hostage-takers from using the murder of a hostage to exploit the perceived indifference of the victim’s government as a way of amplifying their own propaganda. As the Spanish experience shows, families that feel supported by their governments are less likely to launch media campaigns, which can complicate negotiations and delay a resolution.
A no concessions policy is only credible if governments are willing to let hostages die to make the point that they will never give in. A government that expects its citizens to make that kind of sacrifice should only do so based on incontrovertible evidence that many other lives will be saved. The no concessions policy does not meet that standard. It’s time for a new approach. No one should have to die for a policy that isn’t working.