Three Cups of Deceit: How Greg Mortenson, Humanitarian Hero, Lost His Way (16 page)

Every September, Callahan explains, the Kyrgyz routinely ride over the mountains to trade at a shrine near Zuudkhan called Baba Gundi Ziarat. During one of these annual trips

most likely in 2000 or 2001

they apparently learned that a wealthy American was in the vicinity, and simply rode over to see what sort of largess they might pry out of him.

Perhaps the saddest aspect of the Bozai saga is that the school Mortenson worked so hard and spent so much to build is never likely to educate a meaningful number of Kyrgyz youth, if any. In his ignorance of the Kyrgyz, Mortenson believed their children would attend the Bozai
school
in winter, as he indicated in the epilogue to
Stones into Schools
:

 

[D]uring the six months when the grasslands lie buried beneath the snow and all connection between the Kirghiz and the outside world has been severed

I am told that there will be roughly 200 children who will study at the school

.

 

In winter, temperatures in Bozai routinely plunge to forty degrees below zero, and the nearest Kyrgyz camp is three miles away. It would take at least an hour to reach the school on horseback through knee-deep snowdrifts.

No one is going to attend that school in the winter,

Callahan insists.

Absolutely not.

The only time any Kyrgyz actually pitch their yurts in Bozai is from mid-October to mid-December. But the teachers brought to the Pamir by the Afghan Ministry of Education each year arrive in June or July and depart by the end of September.

Education grinds to a halt throughout the Wakhan district in winter,

says Callahan.

Even the government-run schools are shut. Everyone is hunkered down. So building a school to provide education in the winter is a bad idea. It

s just not going to happen. I

m convinced that the Bozai
school
was built primarily for the sake of Greg

s book, to anchor the narrative.

From June through September, when a teacher could conceivably be hired to teach in Bozai, the summer camp inhabited by Abdul Rashid Khan

s clan, Karajelga, is situated nineteen miles away

much too far for any children to attend. Haji Osman

s summer camp at Kaschsh Gaz is closer to the school

four and a half miles up the hill, a ninety-minute trudge at an energetic clip

but when Callahan visited Osman in September 2010, Osman told him,

We

re never going to use it because it

s built down there.

The Afghan government provides a teacher who holds classes inside a yurt right in his camp, he pointed out,

so
why would our children want to walk all the way down there to go to school, and then have to walk back up at the end of the day? The school is pointless. It

s empty. The border police seem to use it sometimes.

 

*
*
*

 

IN ALL FAIRNESS, Greg Mortenson has done much that is admirable since he began working in Baltistan sixteen and a half years ago. He

s been a tireless advocate for girls

education. He

s established dozens of schools in Afghanistan and Pakistan that have benefited tens of thousands children, a significant percentage of them girls. A huge number of people regard him as a hero, and he inspires tremendous trust. It is now
evident,
however, that Mortenson recklessly betrayed this trust, damaging his credibility beyond repair.

It might not be too late, though, to salvage the wreckage of Central Asia Institute, which has talented staff and valuable material assets that could further benefit people in the region. But if CAI is to be pulled back from the brink and rehabilitated, the organization must sever its ties with Mortenson. It needs to overhaul its board of directors, and find a principled executive director to replace him.

During the past several months, as I came to grasp the magnitude of Mortenson

s deceit, I felt ashamed at being so easily conned. How could those of us who enabled his fraud

and we are legion

have been so gullible? Ted Callahan attributes the uncritical acceptance of Mortenson and his shtick to the seemingly endless war raging in Central Asia.

The way I

ve always understood Greg,

Callahan reflects,

is that he

s a symptom of Afghanistan. Things are so bad that everybody

s desperate for even one good-news story. And Greg is it. Everything else might be completely fucked up over there, but here

s a guy who

s persuaded the world that he

s making a difference and doing things right.

Mortenson

s tale

functioned as a palliative,

Callahan suggests. It soothed the national conscience. Greg may have used smoke and mirrors to generate the hope he offered, but the illusion made people feel good about
themselves
, so nobody was in a hurry to look behind the curtain. Although it doesn

t excuse his dishonesty, Mortenson was merely selling what the public was eager to buy.

On April 13, I sent an email to Mortenson.

Please call me at your earliest convenience,

I wrote.

 

As I believe you have known for quite a while now, I am writing an article that shines a bright light on you and your management of CAI

. If you'd like to respond to the material in my article before publication, time is growing very short

.My only conditions for such a conversation are that everything be on the record and that the conversation be digitally recorded to ensure the accuracy of what is said. I know you are busy, but the allegations I make in my article are quite serious. If you wish to tell me your side of the story before my article is typeset and closes for publication, you need to contact me without delay.

 

Eighteen minutes after I clicked the

send

button, Mortenson replied,

 

I greatly appreciate that you reached out to me now so we can meet ASAP to answer any questions you have. I

ll look at my schedule today to see when we can make a meeting happen.

 

Immediately thereafter, Mortenson

s personal assistant, Jeff McMillan, invited me to fly to Bozeman to interview Greg on Saturday, April 16.

Thanks, Jon,

McMillan said,

for the opportunity to let Greg talk openly and completely before going to press.

In subsequent emails, I confirmed that I had booked my flight and looked forward to interviewing Greg three days hence.

I heard nothing further from either Mortenson or McMillan until the afternoon of April 15, when Mortenson informed me,

If we do an interview, I would like that there is no digital recording. I

m on my way to my doctor as my oxygen saturation is very low.

I replied,

 

If we do the interview, it has to be recorded. This point is non-negotiable. I will, however, promise that I will not share the audio with anyone else, I will not post the audio on the Web, and I will not give the audio to
60 Minutes
10
or any other news organization

. I would think you would want me to record the interview, to ensure the accuracy of what I write. I will provide a copy of the digital recording to you.

 


We are currently at cardiologist in Bozeman,

Mortenson

s assistant answered.

Greg is having a heart procedure done Monday morning [April 18] and will not be available for any type of interview.

I immediately phoned McMillan to express my concern for Mortenson

s health, and to suggest that we conduct the interview by phone instead of in person, at a time convenient for Greg. McMillan said that would not be possible. This was the last communication I received from either McMillan or Mortenson.

 

*
*
*

 

IN MARCH when I attended Mortenson

s lecture in Cheyenne, the experience unsettled me. After taking my seat, while waiting for the program to begin, I read the six-page brochure that had been handed out to everyone in the audience, and I noticed it included the usual lies: the Korphe myth, Mortenson

s

eight-day armed kidnapping by the Taliban,

the claim that for sixteen years he has built schools in

places often considered the front lines of the

War on Terror.
’”
The next morning, I called Tom Hornbein to talk about the feelings that seeing Greg in person for the first time in years had stirred. It was Hornbein who initially introduced me to Greg, fourteen years ago, and my description of the Cheyenne event roiled Tom

s emotions as well. Reflecting on his own bewildering relationship with Mortenson, he jotted down his thoughts and sent them to me a few hours after our conversation.

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