America’s Forgotten Hostages

What if militant extremists murdered an American citizen and kidnapped his three colleagues? Wouldn't the U.S. government marshal its resources to free the hostages? The answer is a disappointing "no," according to the families of three men who've been missing in the jungles of Colombia since 2003.

Five years ago this month, a Cessna 206 airplane carrying four U.S. civilian contractors over southern Colombia developed engine trouble and crashed into a hillside field of coca. A unit of rebels from the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC) happened to be in the vicinity of the crash site and quickly surrounded the men, who were conducting aerial reconnaissance of coca farms for the Pentagon under the auspices of a U.S.-financed anti-drug initiative. One of the plane's pilots, Tom Janis, and a Colombian Army sergeant accompanying the flight crew were executed on the spot. But the three remaining Americans--copilot Thomas Howes, flight engineer Keith Stansell and systems analyst Marc Gonsalves--were marched off into the thick bush of the Colombian hinterland where they remain to this day.

In the 1,821 days since the contractors were taken prisoner, President Bush has spoken about them only once in public, in response to a question near the end of a press conference held in Bogota in March 2007. "These are three innocent folks who have been held for too long," said Bush, standing alongside Colombian President Alvaro Uribe. "I am concerned about their safety, I really am."

Both Uribe and Venezuelan President Hugo Chávez have met with relatives of the men to discuss ways of persuading the FARC to free them, but not Bush--nor, for that matter, has any senior official in his administration. The State Department officially classifies the Americans' FARC captors as a terrorist organization--yet the activities of Islamist terrorists seem to be the overriding priority of this White House.

Furious relatives of the three men say Bush's almost complete silence on the topic is an apt metaphor for the U.S. government's meager efforts to procure their release. Washington has a long-standing policy of refusing to negotiate with terrorists, and Keith Stansell's parents, Gene and Lynne, say they understand that position. But they and other loved ones of the captives don't understand Washington's reluctance to support the efforts of France, Spain, Switzerland and other countries to open a dialog with the nominally Marxist guerrillas over the liberation of dozens of political hostages in their grip.

The Stansells vividly remember a phone call they received from a State Department official on the eve of their departure for Caracas advising them that the U.S. government had no objections to their upcoming meeting with the Bush-bashing Chávez. "That's the most support that's been expressed to us, that they didn't object," marvels Lynne Stansell. "I'd give the U.S. government a D minus," adds Keith's father, Gene, a retired 75-year-old Miami school principal. "No one ever asked them to negotiate with the terrorists, [but] if they don't deal with the FARC and France and several other countries are, why in the world can't U.S. officials have them pass the word on to the guerrillas?"