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By 1961 US newspapers had started to use the term “skyjack” as interchangeable with “hijack”—in reference to the unlawful seizure of an aeroplane—but as the Stockton Record (Calif.) noted, the word “hijack” colorfully persists
Skyjacking, the hijacking of aircraft as a tactic toward the attainment of a particular aim or objective of the perpetrator, descended on the world like a plague from the late 1960s onwards. In just three years from 1968 to 1971 there were nearly 200 aerial hijackings globally and the numbers grew exponentially over the decade (‘Hijacking’, Britannica, www.britannica.com). Many of these hijack attempts were politically motivated, often by terrorist groups–Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, Japanese Red Army Faction, Republic of New Africa, Black Liberation Army, Kashmir separatists, Croatian nationalists, etc—but a steady minority involved “lone wolf” attacks on airlines. Where the perpetrators targeted commercial flights it was generally standard practice for exorbitant ransoms to be demanded for the passengers taken hostage by the armed hijackers. A pattern of skyjack attempts in the 1970s, confined primarily to the US, saw ongoing instances of terrorists seizing control of commercial aircraft and demanding the flights be re-routed to Cuba1⃞ (see Endnote).
When did the first hijack attempt on an aeroplane take place? ☄︎ ☄︎ ☄︎ ☄︎ The earliest instance occurred in 1919, when aviation was still very much in its infancy. The ur-hijacker was one Baron Franz von Felső-Szilvás, a Hungarian aristocrat (and self-taught pioneering palaeontologist) who was desperate to escape the nascent Hungarian Soviet Republic. Trapped in Budapest, bereft of a passport, the baron commandeered a light plane at gunpoint and forced the pilot to fly him to Vienna where he sought refuge from the short-lived communist Magyar regime2⃞ .
It was not until 1931 however that the first recorded attempted hijacking of a commercial civilian airliner took place. It happened in Peru whilst the country was in the grip of revolutionary upheaval. American pilot Byron Rickard on his mail run flight for Pan-Am found his plane surrounded by Peruvian guerrillas upon landing in Arequipa. The guerrillas took Rickard prisoner and demanded the plane be flown to Lima to drop anti-presidential propaganda leaflets. Rickard refused to comply and the armed rebels were thwarted in their attempt at air piracy3⃞ .
“D.B. Cooper” – a shift in the methodology of “lone wolf” skyjacking 1971 brought by far the most outrageous hijack attempt by an individual. A passenger (known only by the alias “D.B. Cooper”) on an Oregon intra-state flight from Portland to Seattle informed cabin staff that he was carrying a bomb in his briefcase and demanded a sum of $200,000 and four parachutes upon arrival in Seattle. When his demands were met “Cooper” allowed the passengers to exit the 727 jet, and then he instructed the pilot to fly him to Mexico. At some point in the flight thereafter “Cooper” absconded with the loot…presumably he bailed out although no one knows where he ended up, disappearing without trace, with all FBI efforts to find him ultimately fruitless. The audacious feat won the solo hijacker a kind of instant folk-hero cache in the US, and more significantly prompted a spate of copycat, would-be skyjackers who tried to replicate Cooper’s success but failed (‘A Brief History of Airplane Hijackings, From the Cold War to D.B. Cooper’, Janet Bednarek, The Conversation, 18-Jul-2022, www.smithsonianmag.com).
Endnote: Hollywood embraces the sub-genre The skyjacking phenomena of the Seventies provided cinema and television with a rich vein of subject material. A seemingly endless stream of movies have gone the aircraft hijack scenario route for their plot action – just a sample of the better known titles include Skyjacked, Airport ‘77, The Delta Force, Air Force One, Passenger 57, United 93, Mogadishu and The Hijacking of Flight 3754⃞. The “Take me to Cuba” trope was a recurring motif on ‘70s TV comedy sketches from the likes of Monty Python et al, with predictable jocular takes on the hijacking “craze”.
1⃞ hijackings with a destination of Havana, Cuba, were so prevalent in this period that (according to Brendan I Koerner in his book The Skies Belong To Us) American airline captains were given maps of the Caribbean and Spanish-language guides in the event of just such a diversion (“TWA85: ‘The world’s longest and most spectacular hijacking’”, Roland Hughes, BBC News, 27-Oct-2019, www.bbc.com)
2⃞ the Felső-Szilvás episode had echoes in the Cold War climate of the late 1940s with a series of skyjackings (in Rome, Bulgaria and Czechoslovakia) by anti-communists trying to escape communist rule in the Eastern Bloc
3⃞ by a stroke of considerable bad luck Rickard was again the unfortunate victim of an hijack 30 years later while piloting Continental Airlines Flight 54 in 1961
4⃞” and any flagging in the sub-genre’s popularity by around the turn of the century was revived by the events of 9/11 in 2001
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The Wright brothers defended their exclusive aircraft patent against all-comers (“copiers and imitators” as they saw everybody else in the game) with a monomaniacal religious zeal that would have befitted their overbearing United Brethren minister father Milton. Orville and Wilbur freely sued and issued writs against anyone who attempted to construct and fly a new aircraft without purchasing a licence from them. As this was the pioneering era of aviation there were a lot of inventors trying to do just this[2]. Accordingly, the Wrights spent a lot of time locked in legal disputes with other manufacturers in America and overseas who were trying to avoid the patent fee. The Wrights staunchly defended their world monopoly over flight in unequivocal terms as a ‘moral’ and a ‘legal’ right, treating all other contemporary inventors in the field as in effect “hobbyists”![3].
Because of the Wrights’ unwavering stance on their patents (after 1912 Orville alone, as Wilbur died that year), resentment towards the brothers was strong, they were accused of being greedy by licensees, eg, by demanding “money first” from prospective buyers BEFORE giving a demonstration of the prototype flyer, or by setting too high a royalty fee (at one point demanding 20% of sales); after a string of fatal air crashes in Wright planes Orville Wright lost sympathy with the public by attributing the accidents solely to “pilot error” (characteristically giving no consideration to the fact that the Wrights might be at fault for not having tried to make improvements to their prototype Flyer’s basic design[7].
Not long after the news spread about the momentous event at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, on 17 December 1903, the significance of what the Wrights’ had done found itself under challenge, especially as time went on from the European aviation community. French newspapers after 1903 described the celebrated American brothers as bluffeurs (bluffers). Doubts were raised about their achievements when the Wrights failed to release the photo of the Wright Flyer in flight at Kitty Hawk until nearly five years after the groundbreaking 1903 flight … newspapers acerbically asked: “Were they fliers or liars?”, Paris edition of the New York Herald (10 Feb 1906); ‘Wright Brothers: European skepticism’, www.spiritus-temporis.com.
As well, in the 30 years preceding Kitty Hawk, there was a host of aviation pioneers experimenting with monoplanes, biplanes, box-kites and gliders including, 1874: Félix du Temple; 1894: Hiram Maxim; 1894: Lawrence Hargrave; 1898: Augustus Moore Herring [B Kampmark, ‘Wright Brothers: Right or Wrong?’, Montréal Review (April 2013]. These flights however were either pre-power ones, or if motorised, they have been largely discredited as having been either unsustained, uncontrolled or as at the least not sufficiently controlled [P Scott, The Shoulders of Giants: A History of Human Flight to 1919].
G A Whitehead was a German migrant (born Gustave Weisskopf) living in Connecticut who started experimenting with gliders (variations on the glider prototype design developed by aviation pioneer Otto Lilienthal) in the mid-1890s, at a time when Wilbur and Orville were still making and repairing bicycles in Dayton, Ohio. The case in support of the flight made by Whitehead on 14 August 1901 in what must be noted was an improbable-looking, bat-shaped, engine-propelled glider at Fairfield near Bridgeport, was first taken up in 1935 (in an article in an industry magazine, Popular Aviation, entitled ‘Did Whitehead Precede Wright In World’s First Powered Flight?’)回. Whitehead’s claim lay dormant until the 1960s when army reservist William O’Dwyer, took up the German-American engine-maker’s cause and did his upmost to promote his “flying machine”.
Critics of the Institute believe that the Smithsonian’s indebtedness to the Wrights’ legacy (the fear of losing the historic Flyer to the estate executors) prevents it from recognising the merits of Whitehead’s pioneering achievement irrespective of the weight of evidence put forward [J Liotta, ‘Wright Brothers Flight Legacy Hits New Turbulence’, www.news.nationalgeographic.com]. Clearly this is a powerful disincentive to the Smithsonian objectively assessing the merits and new evidence for any rival claims to the Wrights (not just Whitehead’s) which may be unearthed.
The credence given to the Wright brothers’ claim to be the first successful flyers should perhaps come with an asterisk, signifying it’s need to be heavily qualified – as in David Schneider’s tongue–in–cheek, catch–all description: “First in Sustained, Piloted, Controlled, Powered, Heavier–than–air Flight of Lasting Technological Significance” [ibid].
Did any of the documented early flights per se achieve “sustained and controlled flight”? Human conquest of the sky didn’t happen in one quantum leap, surely it came about in a series of small, measured steps, each building on the one before. It is more meaningful to see the development of viable flying machines as something that happened incrementally, an aerodynamic puzzle put together piece-by-piece. It was an international effort, the culmination of the accumulated efforts of gifted pioneering aeronautical designers such as George Cayley, Octave Chanute, Samuel Langley, Lawrence Hargrave and Otto Lilienthal whose experiments made it possible for the Wrights and others to experiment with flight, coming closer and closer to the realisation of successful manned, powered flight.
