By Matt Vautour ’96

What's the right club to play a shot out of a bomb crater? Can you chip over that rusty piece of old artillery? Should you take a drop and penalty stroke, or risk searching for your ball in a minefield?

These aren’t normal concerns for a golfer, but John Dempsey isn’t running a normal tournament. Dempsey ’93 is a 36-year-old lawyer from Lynn who works as an advisor to the Afghanistan Minister of Justice. But for a few days each summer, he’s also cofounder, organizer, and participant in the Kabul Desert Classic golf tournament.

After working as a capital-markets attorney in New York, Dempsey headed to Afghanistan in 2003, where he works helping to draft a new Afghani constitution. His focus is on the human rights of that nation’s returning refugees.

“I’ve been helping to rebuild and reform the formal rule of law institutions in the country and helping to draft new laws and law-reform procedures there,” he says. During his time in Kabul, Dempsey saw the hardships faced by Afghani children. They suffered first from the Taliban rule, then during the war that followed. He was motivated to help.

“Amaury Coste, a friend of mine from France who also lives in Afghanistan, and I decided to host a charity event in 2005 to help a local orphanage that was strapped for cash,” he explains. Aid workers, consultants, United Nations officials, and other reconstruction experts “are making a bundle in Kabul,” says Dempsey. “So we thought there’d be no problem convincing internationals to part with some of their salaries for a good cause. The idea to make it a golf tournament came about because Amaury and I both like to play. . . . We thought we’d get more attention, and thus more donations, than from a charity dinner. . . . Most people don’t normally consider Afghanistan a golfing mecca.”

The friends didn’t have to look far for a venue. The Kabul Golf Club is the only course in Afghanistan. It has nine holes, a pro shop, and Muhammad Afzal Abdul, an
English-speaking golf pro who was jailed both by the Soviets and by the Taliban for operating the course. When the Taliban was forced out, he hired a crew to make sure his course was free of landmines before he re-opened the club. This summer Abdul hosts the third Classic.

“The first year, we had 28 golfers, mostly Europeans, American and Japanese consultants, journalists, and aid workers,” Dempsey says. In 2006, the field grew by four. “We drew more for-hire private-security-guard types than the first year,” he says. “We had more players with automatic weapons in their golf bags.” Along with the increase in armament, the Classic increased its proceeds to $8,000, up from $6,500.

Dempsey is proud to do what he can to help the orphans and is planning the third Classic for this fall. “We hope to raise more money by advertising and soliciting donations in the States and Europe and through corporate sponsorships,” he says.

Working on “rule of law” reform can be a bit heavy at times, he admits. “And it’s often difficult to see any progress or real, positive results of my work. . . . It’s challenging to measure the effectiveness of institutional reform projects that can take a generation or more to have any noticeable impact; the legal system isn’t going to change overnight,” says Dempsey. In contrast, “the Classic is kind of ridiculous—golfing in Afghanistan? But it’s pretty fun.” The real reward, he says, is in organizing an event that helps meet the immediate needs of Afghan children. “We can see the positive benefits right now.”