Co-written with the Irish novelist Colum McCann, American Mother goes on to tell the story of Diane Foley’s version of the before, during and after of her son’s kidnapping and death is clear-eyed, unflinching, and full of anger and sadness.
Her son, James Foley (age 39), was an American journalist taken hostage in 2012 while reporting in northwestern Syria. After 22 months in captivity, he was beheaded by the Islamic State group (ISIS). To westerners, the public beheading of James Foley in the Syrian desert was grim confirmation of the brutality of Islamic State and, more specifically, of the cruelty of a trio of British militants nicknamed “the Beatles” They claimed it was in retaliation for America’s air strikes in Iraq. His was the first in a series of executions of Western hostages by jihadists that were put online for all to see. While Foley’s captors used the image of him kneeling in an orange jumpsuit as part of their anti-American propaganda, for the Western world it became a symbol of Isis brutality.
American Mother, by James’ mother Diane Foley, is a corrective of sorts, an attempt to fade out that image and replace it with scenes from James’ upbringing as the eldest of five in an all-American, church-going family, who loved to read by torchlight in his bed. After a spell teaching in his early twenties, Foley fell into journalism where he dedicated himself to telling the stories of the victims of war. He had found a career he was passionate about. It seemed to give him a sense of meaning. It expanded his sense of ambition. He could combine his natural listening skills and his writing talent with his sense of social justice.
After being caught with marijuana in his backpack, he lost his job with a military news organization. Ashamed but undeterred, he went freelance and headed to Libya – where, two months in, he was captured by Gaddafi loyalists. He was able to get released.
The experience might have given him pause; a colleague was killed during the abduction. But, once released, he was game for more frontline action. In Syria, the taxi he was travelling in was forced off the road. His captors seemed to think he was a CIA man, not a journalist. Hearing the news, and knowing his ordeal was bound to be worse than the first kidnapping, his family wanted to do something. The FBI told them to hold their tongues.
During James captivity, Diane said, “My heart had been kidnapped. My time too. Still, I felt there was some hope on the horizon. Such is the logic of longing. We hang on whatever thread we can find.” The US government, insistent that it would not pay ransoms to terrorists, would do nothing for her family; it was hellish living in fear of the sound of the telephone; the waiting and the wondering could drive a person mad.
Eventually after 22 months of captivity Diane gets the news that her son was killed and beheaded on film. Diane never watched the beheading. The killer is caught. My reason for wanting to read this depressing story is that a plea bargain is worked out, and Diane wants to confront the incarcerated Isis killer Alexanda Kotey. The encounter between mother and murderer that opens the book is written in the third person. There is one final meeting after the first encounter that is near the end of the book.
Faced for a second time with a shackled Kotey in a prison visiting room, she notices the muscles he has developed and feels both resentful that he is alive and healthy, and glad that he’s being treated well, for two wrongs do not make a right.
Diane Foley internal dialogue is engaging because she can hold two contradictory thoughts at once. She balances ideas that should matter to us all: of compassion, of forgiveness, of understanding.
She wasn’t angry with the “misguided obstinacy” of a “shortsighted, heartless and arrogant” administration for not acting as France, Spain and Italy had done and paying for hostages’ release. She wasn’t angry with her son, a man of moral courage who saw journalism as a spiritual mission. But she did wonder why he took such risks: “Why didn’t you just stay here? … Was it too suburban? Was it not enough?”
This is the victim's mother's telling, and as she admits: I am well aware of a mother's tendency to over-saint her child, especially one who is taken early. It was also baffling that he was kidnapped once and luckily was able to make it out. So, why risk that again? And mom here is trying to compel us that it is our duty to expend everything to get him back.
It’s strange to say it, but as heinous as James Foley’s death was – his captors beheaded him, an act they recorded on camera – the reader is perhaps more shocked when three months after Jim’s death, Diane is invited to meet President Obama, who she voted for, at the White House. He is cold. His words – “Jim was my highest priority” – have a hollow ring. Later that day, she recalls, he was photographed goofing around on a golf course.
My motivation for wanting to read American Mother was the story of Diane’s interaction with Kotey. It was only a small part of the book in the first and last chapters. This is a sad story of a mother losing her son to a kidnapping and eventual execution. The build up to the second meeting in the final chapter was underwhelming. There’s a banality to it considering all the shock and anxiety that took place before. The final meeting with Kotey, after he sent her two letters, wasn’t the breakthrough she hoped for; she was perturbed by his aloofness and unwavering self-belief as he denied being brainwashed.
This mother-and-son story isn’t over yet. Diane has continued her campaign to advocate for hostage victims and their families, working closely with successive US administrations to improve policy. Since James’ death, around 100 American hostages have been freed and reunited with their families.