As the fog of war continues to descend over Syria, kidnapping has quietly turned into a cottage industry. An assortment of rebel units, pro-government gangs known as Shabiha, al Qaeda affiliated groups like ISIS, and the Syrian army all have been implicated in the disappearances of more than 80 journalists. To make matters more complicated, each of these master groups has splintered into scores of loosely affiliated sub-groups. In August 2012, Austin Tice was nabbed on his first professional freelance reporting trip while stringing for the Washington Post, seemingly under the protection of the Free Syria Army. In November 2012, James Foley, a Global Post video journalist, disappeared without a trace just 10 kilometers from the Turkish border. Despite efforts by their families and, in the case of James, by the Global Post, both men, sadly, are still missing. In the early days of the war, rebel forces protected journalists in exchange for getting their side of the story out. Now, as resources run low, and allegiances become murkier, more and more journalists are disappearing. Armed with just notebooks and cameras, they make for easy targets.

James Foley, (Courtesy of www.freejamesfoley.org)

Austin Tice, (Courtesy of the Tice Family)

I got to know video journalist and photographer Ricardo Garcia Vilanova after he joined our freelance video journalism platform, Storyhunter in 2012. He produced and uploaded two videos on our website from Syria that were commissioned by our partner, Yahoo. They were both fascinating portraits of regular Syrians doing heroic things during the Civil War. One profiled a protest sketch artist, the other provided a window into the life of a Syrian citizen journalist. I chatted with Ricardo by phone or email on numerous occasions throughout his reporting from Syria. He had actually lost count of the number of trips he had made into the country since they were so numerous. Still, I always tried to get a sense of what kind of risks he was taking. Our last communication was on September 12th, four days before he was kidnapped. He sent me a pitch for a video report on the plight of a Syrian doctor. I followed up by email to learn more. I tried to contact him multiple times, but got nothing back. After a month of trying with no response, I knew in my heart that something bad had happened, but wasn’t able to confirm it until December.

Ricardo is the quintessential professional freelance war reporter. His CV reads like a laundry list of top media companies. Name your favorite newspaper, magazine, or network. Chances are they’ve published his work. Ricardo was one of the few reporters to cover nearly the entire Libya conflict, following the front line from Bengazi to Tripoli. On one of the brief breaks that he took from work to return home to his native Barcelona to visit his parents, Ricardo learned that his work was chosen to be exhibited in a prestigious NYC gallery. They invited him to attend a reception in his honor. At the same time, the city of Misrata had fallen under siege by Qaddafi’s forces. For Ricardo, it was a no-brainer. He headed straight back to Libya.

Like most freelancers, Ricardo went into war zones sans insurance. The reason has more to do with cold, hard economics than with bravado. Photos rarely sell for the price of a train ticket. Videos rarely sell for more than the cost of a plane ticket. Trusted insurance policies that cover death, terrorism, kidnapping, extortion, etc. cost thousands of dollars over the course of a year. For the majority of freelancers who are living hand to mouth, such policies are simply unaffordable.

The flip side of this equation is that if the stars do align and a freelancer manages to secure exclusive access to a far-flung civil war somewhere, he/she can sell stories by the dozen and not have to worry about getting paid work for a while. Unlike staff reporters, whose pay is fixed, freelancers are incentivized economically to take greater risks. As in any open marketplace, when there’s scarcity and demand, the price of the content generally rises. Lingering in the back of every freelancer’s mind is the potential for those depressing, dry months at home where there’s no work. Do I go to the front lines now or risk waiting tables this summer? Ironically, for freelancers determined to make a living doing what they love, sometimes, going to a war zone feels like the best survival strategy.