Charlotte LYTTON
Diane Foley, mother of murdered journalist, James, tells Charlotte Lytton that justice can wait no longer
The image is seared into public memory: a man in an orange T-shirt kneeling in the desert, head shaved, a knife to his neck. The beheading of James Foley, the first Islamic State hostage to meet this grim end in August 2014, marked the group’s introduction to the Western world – a summer of bloodshed that would trigger a series of attacks carried out in their name in cities from London to Paris.
In has been six years since the murder of Foley, a 40-year-old American photojournalist whose death at the hands of Mohammed Emwazi (“Jihadi John”) was broadcast to the world via Youtube. Now, Alexanda Kotey and El Shafee Elsheikh – the last living members of the British IS cell dubbed “The Beatles”, accused of beheading more than 27 hostages and of which Emwazi was a member – are set to face trial.
Last week, Elsheikh’s mother lost a High Court bid to stop her son’s prosecution, meaning the pair – who have been stripped of their British citizenship – will be tried in America. The UK will now share crucial evidence with US prosecutors, who have agreed to waive the death penalty. “We must dare to bring them to trial,” says Diane Foley, James’s mother. Her hope is not just “to get to the truth of the matter” but that, if proven guilty, Kotey and Elsheikh “recognise what they’ve done, and make amends for what they’ve inflicted on so many innocent people… there must be some accountability. Justice needs to be served.”
Londoners Kotey, 36, and Elsheikh, 32 – nicknamed Ringo and George by their hostages – remain in US military custody in Iraq. Emwazi, a computer programmer from west London, was killed by a drone strike in November 2015.
“To kill him in that way was satisfying for some in our government,” Diane says, “but not to me.” Allowing the jihadists to become martyrs is self-defeating, she believes; Kotey and Elsheikh’s trial feels like “a hopeful step forward,” even if – should it be conducted virtually while Covid restrictions remain in place – she will be unable to look them in the eye.
Doing so “is not necessary for me,” she says via Zoom from her home in Wolfeboro, New Hampshire, where James (known as Jim) was raised with his four siblings. But she would speak with them, if given the chance. “I certainly would be open to talking to them. I don’t know if they’d have any interest though.”
A new BBC documentary series, In the Face of Terror, follows the attempts of the Foleys and other families of hostages to ensure the atrocities inflicted on their loved ones aren’t allowed to happen again.
“I often felt no one had Jim’s name on their desk as a priority,” John, his father, says in the first of three episodes. It is a feeling echoed by Carl and Marsha Mueller, whose aid worker daughter Kayla was raped and murdered by IS in 2015 (Kotey and El Sheikh recently admitted their involvement in her captivity, but not death) and Mike Haines, whose brother David became the group’s first British victim a month after Jim was killed.
Striking, too, are the contributions from French and Spanish hostages who spent months in squalid cells across Syria with Jim and David, but whose lives were spared following negotiations.
“I had hoped that our country would find a way to bring Jim home,” says Diane. “But I feel that the policy of ‘no negotiation’ got in the way and the [British and American] governments did not engage in a way that made it even possible. I feel that was unacceptable in many ways. We can do better. We need to prioritise our citizens and we need to hold people accountable, who dare to kidnap, torture, and murder them abroad.”
The first indication that Jim was missing reached New Hampshire in November 2012. It was Thanksgiving, and he always rang home from whatever conflict zone he was working in; this time, nothing.
When he and Diane had last spoken a few weeks earlier, Jim had promised he’d be home by Christmas. His family hoped the silence was temporary but, a year later, they received an email from IS, demanding a ransom of €100 million (£77 million), or for all Muslim prisoners held in the US to be freed.
Diane, a former nurse, was “naive” then, she says. “I didn’t really know what I was doing and I trusted our government to take care of it. When they told me Jim was their highest priority I believed it.”
The Foleys raised $1 million themselves but over time, it became clear that Jim “was not a priority at all”, Diane says of his disappearance, which the family made public around six weeks later, against FBI advice. “He was not. He was forgotten.”
His parents ultimately had to accede to the US government’s policy of not negotiating with terrorists (one the UK shares). “I let Jim down,” Diane now believes.
The authorities’ stance was “short-sighted”, she adds. “I feel very strongly that our countries should be willing to negotiate, and try to find ways to bring hostages home.”
Twenty-one months after his capture, Diane received a call from a reporter in hysterics: pictures of Jim, decapitated, were circulating on Twitter. “It was an incredible shock,” she recalls with remarkable calm.
In the aftermath, the glare of public interest intensified; President Barack Obama called the Foleys to share his condolences, condemning Jim’s killers in a televised address.
Words by then could do little. “Administrations vary on how important they feel this issue is,” Diane says. Although there has been no official reversal of policy, she adds: “The Trump administration has prioritised the return of our citizens more than [others]. So I have to applaud that, I’m very grateful for that.” Over the course of our conversation she is warm but firm; dwelling on frustration that more wasn’t done to save her eldest son is pointless, she and her husband believe. “We could be bitter, or angry, but what would that do? That doesn’t bring Jim home.”
She is aware, too, that there is some peace in knowing her son is no longer suffering at the hands of his captors; the Muellers still hope that Kayla may yet be found alive. “To not have that kind of closure is just a never-ending terror... I definitely think it was some finality and conclusion that helped us to move towards acceptance,” she explains.
Three weeks after her son’s death she founded the James W Foley Legacy Foundation, which provides a safety curriculum for journalists in conflict zones and advocates for the safe return of hostages. It is her way of honouring Jim, who deeply wanted to tell the stories of those who could not do so themselves. And who, on visits home, could always be counted upon to “bring joy and fun” back with him. “He really made you feel like he cared about what you were going through,” Diane smiles. “What is so sad is that he would have contributed so much to the world.”
Her son would have been 47 this month; annually, around his birthday, the James W Foley Freedom Run takes place (this year on October 17) with runners taking part across the world in his memory.
At home, too, his six nieces and nephews are growing up with stories of their uncle Jim. Two are named after him, adds Diane. “I pray that they will aspire to the moral courage their uncle had.”
‘When they told me Jim was their highest priority I believed it… He was not. He was forgotten’