Three Cups of Deceit: How Greg Mortenson, Humanitarian Hero, Lost His Way (5 page)

Mortenson was jerked to his feet and dragged out the door, where he was blindfolded, thrown in the bed of a pickup truck, and driven to another location. There, he was locked inside a
“
spare, high-ceilinged room
”
with a
“
single small window, shuttered from outside,
”
and guarded by two thugs with AK-47s. In the morning, when Mortenson indicated he needed to visit a toilet, his abductors escorted him to a crude stall with a squat latrine, where one of the guards
“
walked inside with him while the other stared in from outside.
”
Mortenson explained,
“
To have to, you know, clean yourself afterward while they stare at you, was nerve-wracking.
”

According to Mortenson, he was imprisoned for eight days, with nothing to read but
“
a tattered
Time
magazine dated November 1979.
”
By the middle of his fifth night in captivity,

Mortenson felt a wave of blackness lapping at his feet, surging up to his knees, threatening to drown him in despair
…
. Through force of will, Mortenson held the black water at bay, and turned the pages of the magazine, searching for a foothold in the warm dry world he
’
d left behind. Dawn of his sixth morning in captivity found Mortenson
’
s eyes tearing up over an ad for a WaterPik Oral Hygiene Appliance.

By and by, the ringleader who ordered his abduction showed up, a man described by Mortenson as
“
an emerging Taliban commander
”
who spoke perfect English. Mortenson told the commander he ran a charity that was building a school in Baltistan, and
“
planned to build many more schools for Pakistan
’
s most neglected children,
”
hoping his good intentions would convince the Talib to release him, but the gambit failed. So Mortenson tried a different tack, telling the commander that his wife was about to give birth to their first child, a son (even though Mortenson had already learned that the baby would be a daughter), because he
“
knew that for a Muslim the birth of a son is a really big deal
…
. I felt bad about lying, but I thought the birth of a son might make them let me go.
”

This ploy, alas, also failed to win his freedom. At 4:00 in the morning of the ninth day, when the commander blindfolded Mortenson and put him in the bed of a pickup truck full of armed men, Mortenson assumed his execution was imminent:

Back then, before 9/11, beheading foreigners wasn
’
t in fashion
…
. And I didn
’
t think being shot was such a bad way to die. But the idea that Tara would have to raise our child on her own and would probably never find out what happened to me made me crazy. I could picture her pain and uncertainty going on and on and that seemed like the most horrible thing of all.

Fortunately, as Mortenson was taking what he feared were his final breaths, the truck skidded to a stop, whereupon the commander removed Mortenson
’
s blindfold and gave him a hug.
“
We
’
re throwing a party,
”
the Talib announced.
“
A party before we take you back to Peshawar.
”
Instead of being executed by a Taliban firing squad, Mortenson was feted as the guest of honor at a rowdy Pashtun hoedown featuring barbecued goat, lots of hashish, and boisterous dancing. Throughout the bacchanal, dozens of Taliban embraced Mortenson like a long-lost brother and stuffed wads of hundred-rupee notes into his pockets.
“
For your schools!
”
the commander explained, shouting in Mortenson
’
s ear to be heard over bursts of celebratory gunfire.
“
So,
Inshallah
, you
’
ll build many more!
”

Giddily [Mortenson] joined the celebration, goat grease trickling down his eight-day beard, performing the old Tanzanian steps he thought he
’
d forgotten to shouts of encouragement from the Wazir, dancing with the absolute bliss, with the wild abandon, bequeathed by freedom.

If this stirring resolution to Mortenson
’
s ordeal seems a bit far-fetched, it is. The entire story was fabricated. There was no wild party, no Taliban commander,
no
abduction of any sort. According to Mansur Khan Mahsud, a Pakistani scholar who frequently accompanied Mortenson during his visit to Tehsil Ladha, Mortenson was never threatened, no one ever pointed a gun at him, and no one ever held him against his will, even momentarily, during the approximately fifteen days he spent in South Waziristan.
“
Greg was never worried or frightened,
”
says Mansur Khan, now the director of Research and Administration at the FATA Research Centre, an internationally respected, nonpartisan think tank in Islamabad.
“
No, no, no. He really enjoyed his stay there. And he was given very good treatment. If he tells,
‘
I have been kidnapped,
’
he is lying. He was an honored guest of the whole village.
”

During Mortenson
’
s visit to Ladha, he was housed in a village called Kot Langerkhel, at the home of the deputy inspector general of the police. A photograph shows Mortenson relaxing in this home, which had comfortable furniture and was connected to the national electrical grid. According to Mortenson, he was abducted in the middle of his first night in South Waziristan, and spent every night thereafter in captivity sleeping on an earthen floor
“
under a musty blanket.
”
But the photo shows Mortenson smiling broadly as he sits on the deputy inspector general
’
s Western-style bed, replete with a mattress and clean linens.

In another photograph, Mortenson is strolling across a field above Kot Langerkhel on a lovely July afternoon, accompanied by Naimat Gul Mahsud, Naimat Gul
’
s young nephew, and his servant. A handwritten note from Sangi Marjan, the commissioner of education, attests to a pleasant visit with Mortenson during the period Mortenson claims to have been held captive. According to Mansur Khan, Mortenson was introduced to everyone he met as
“
a professor at an American medical college.
”
Villagers came from throughout Ladha to receive treatment from him, and he became quite a popular figure.

It is nearly impossible to overstate the importance of personal reputation to Pashtuns in general, and members of the Mahsud tribe in particular. Upholding one
’
s honor, and the honor of one
’
s clan, is the preeminent tenet of
Pashtunwali
, the overarching moral code that has shaped Mahsud culture and identity for centuries. By offering to act as Mortenson
’
s host and guardian in South Waziristan, Naimat Gul obligated his branch of the Mahsud tribe to protect Mortenson from physical injury and personal affront. The village of Kot Langerkhel took this responsibility quite seriously. Mahsud tribesmen, armed with Kalashnikov automatic rifles, volunteered to accompany Mortenson whenever he traveled beyond the center of the village.
“
I myself accompanied Greg two or three times during his visit to different areas in South Waziristan Agency,
”
says Mansur Khan, who was twenty-five years old at the time.

In
Stones into Schools
—
Mortenson
’
s second book, published in 2009
—
there is a color photograph of thirteen men holding Kalashnikovs. The caption identifies them as
“
Waziri tribesmen who abducted Greg Mortenson near Razmak, North Waziristan. Greg was detained there for eight days in July 1996.
”
But according to Mansur Khan, who is one of the individuals depicted, all the men in the photo are members of the Mahsud tribe, not Wazirs (who are sworn enemies of the Mahsuds), and they were Mortenson
’
s guardians, not his abductors.
“
This picture was taken in Ladha, not in Razmak, North Waziristan Agency,
”
Mansur Khan scoffs.
“
This was a leisure trip to show Greg different places in Ladha.
”
Unpublished photographs taken at the same time and place, date-stamped
“
7-21-96,
”
show Mortenson clutching an AK-47 and wearing a rack of ammunition across his chest, hamming it up beside Mansur Khan and other Mahsud tribesmen who volunteered to serve as Mortenson
’
s bodyguards
—
most of whom appear in the
Stones into Schools
photo as well.

A preponderance of evidence indicates that Mortenson manufactured his account of being kidnapped by the Taliban out of whole cloth, apparently for the same reason he
’
s invented so many other anecdotes of personal derring-do in his books and public appearances: to inflate the myth of Greg Mortenson,
“
the astonishing, uplifting story of a real-life Indiana Jones and his remarkable humanitarian campaign in the Taliban
’
s backyard,
”
as the back cover of
Three Cups of Tea
puts it. The likelihood that anyone in the United States would ever discover the truth about what happened in an exceedingly isolated Pakistani village must have seemed infinitesimal to Mortenson.

The truth, says Mansur Khan Mahsud, is that
“
in 1996 there were no Taliban operating anywhere near Ladha. The Taliban didn
’
t come until 2001.
”
Although a ruthless faction known as the Tehrik-i-Taliban now holds sway over much of South Waziristan, Mansur Khan points out that it was only after the U.S. invasion of Afghanistan, post
–
9/
11, that
large numbers of Taliban fled across the Durand Line into the tribal areas of Pakistan, seeking refuge from American drones and bombers.