Samarkand (38 page)

But what use was it to discuss the matter? Above all the fragile Persian democracy had to be prevented from crumbling. Parliament
asked Shuster for credit and this time the American did not argue. On the contrary he saw to it that an army was raised within
a few days, with the best available equipment and abundant ammunition. He himself suggested that it should be commanded by
Ephraim Khan, a brilliant Armenian officer who within three months would succeed in crushing the ex-Shah and pushing him back
across the border.

In chancelleries throughout the world it could hardly be believed: had Persia become a modern state? Such rebellions generally
dragged on for years. For most observers, both in Teheran and abroad,
the response was summed up in a single magic word: Shuster. His role now went far beyond that of simply being Treasurer General.
It was he who suggested to parliament that they outlaw the former Shah and plaster ‘Wanted’ posters, as in the Wild West,
on the walls of all the cities in the country, offering significant sums to anyone who helped to capture the imperial rebel
and his brothers, all of which succeeded in discrediting the deposed monarch in the eyes of the population.

The Tsar was still in a rage. It was now clear to him that his ambitions in Persia would not be satisfied while Shuster was
there. He had to be made to leave! An incident had to be created, a large incident. A man was charged with this mission: Pokhitanoff,
former Consul in Tabriz and now Consul General in Teheran.

Mission is an unassuming word, for what was, in that context, a plot which was carefully carried out, although without much
finesse. Parliament had decided to confiscate the property of the ex-Shah’s two brothers who were leading the rebellion at
his side. Commissioned to carry out the sentence, as Treasurer General, Shuster wanted to do everything with the utmost legality.
The principal property concerned, situated not far from the Atabak Palace, belonged to the Imperial Prince who went by the
name ‘Radiance of the Sultanate’; the American sent a detachment of the police and civil servants there, armed with warrants.
They found themselves face to face with Cossacks accompanied by Russian consular officers who forbade the police to enter
the property, threatening to use force if they did not speedily retrace their steps.

When told of the outcome, Shuster sent one of his aides over to the Russian legation. He was received by Pokhitanoff who,
in an aggressive tone of voice, gave him the following explanation: The mother of Prince ‘Radiance of the Sultanate’ had written
to the Tsar and Tsarina to claim their protection, which was generously accorded.

The American could not believe his ears: It was unjust that foreigners, he said, should enjoy the privilege of immunity in
Persia and that the assassins of a Persian minister could not be judged
because they were the Tsar’s subjects – but it was a time-honoured rule and difficult to change; however Persians overnight
could place their property under the protection of a foreign monarch to deflect the laws of their own country – that was a
novel and extraordinary process. Shuster did not want to resign himself to that. He gave an order to the police to go and
take possession of the properties in question, without the use of violence but with determination. This time Pokhitanoff allowed
it. He had created the incident. His mission was accomplished.

The reaction was not slow in coming. A communiqué was published in St Petersburg stating that what had happened amounted to
an act of aggression against Russia and an insult to the Tsar and Tsarina. They were demanding an official apology from the
Teheran government. In a panic, the Persian Prime Minister asked the British for advice; the Foreign Office replied that the
Tsar was not playing games, that he had amassed troops in Baku, that he was preparing to invade Persia and that it would be
wise to accept the ultimatum.

Thus, on 24 November 1911, the Persian Minister for Foreign Affairs, with a heavy heart, presented himself at the Russian
Delegation and shook hands fawningly with the Minister Plenipotentiary as he pronounced these words:

‘Your Excellency, my government has charged me with presenting to you, on its behalf, apologies for the insult which consular
officials of your government have suffered.’

Still shaking the minister’s hand, the Tsar’s representative retorted:

‘Your apologies are accepted as a response to our first ultimatum, however I must inform you that a second ultimatum is in
preparation at St Petersburg. I will advise you of its contents as soon as it reaches me.’

He kept his promise. Five days later, on 29 November at mid-day, the diplomat presented the Minister of Foreign Affairs with
the text of the new ultimatum, adding orally that it had already received London’s approval and that it had to be satisfied
within forty-eight hours.

Point one: dismiss Morgan Shuster.

Point two: never again employ a foreign expert without obtaining beforehand the consent of the Russian and British legations.

In the Parliament building the seventy-six deputies were waiting, some of them wearing turbans, others fezzes or hats; some
of the most militant ‘sons of Adam’ were even dressed in European style. At eleven o’clock the Prime Minister mounted the
dais, as if it were a scaffold, and with a stifled voice he read out the text of the ultimatum and then mentioned London’s
support for the Tsar before announcing his government’s decision not to resist but to accept the ultimatum and to dismiss
the American – in a word, to return to the tutelage of the Powers rather than to be crushed underfoot by them. In order to
try and avoid the worst he needed a clear mandate; he therefore asked for a show of confidence, reminding the deputies that
the ultimatum would expire at mid-day, that they had a finite amount of time and that discussions could not drag on. During
the whole of his speech he had kept glancing worriedly towards the visitors’ gallery where sat enthroned Mr Pokhitanoff whom
none had dared to forbid entering.

When the Prime Minister went back to his seat, there were neither boos nor applause but only a deafening, overwhelming and
oppressive silence. Then a venerable
sayyid
arose, a descendant of the Prophet and modernist from the outset who had always given enthusiastic support to Shuster’s mission.
His speech was short:

‘Perhaps it is the will of God that our freedom and sovereignty
should be snatched away by force. But we will not abandon those principles of our own accord.’

There was silence again. Then another speech in the same vein and just as short. Mr Pokhitanoff made a great show of looking
at his watch. The Prime Minister saw him and in his turn he pulled out his fob watch and held it up to read the time. It was
twenty to twelve. He became panicky and tapped the ground with his cane, demanding that they move on to a vote. Four deputies
hurriedly withdrew on various pretexts: the seventy-two remaining all said ‘no’. No to the Tsar’s ultimatum. No to Shuster’s
departure and no to the government’s stance. By this fact, the Prime Minister was considered to have resigned and he withdrew
with his whole cabinet. Pokhitanoff also arose; the text he had to cable to St Petersburg had already been drafted.

The great door was slammed and the echo reverberated a long time in the silence of the hall. The deputies were alone. They
had won but they did not feel like celebrating their victory. Power was in their hands: the fate of the country and its young
constitution depended on them. What could they do with the power? What did they want to do with it? They had no idea. It was
an unreal, pathetic and chaotic session, and in some respects it was childish too. From time to time someone came up with
an idea, only to have it dismissed:

‘And if we asked the United States to send us troops?’

‘Why would they come, they are Russia’s friends. Was it not President Roosevelt who brought about a reconciliation between
the Tsar and the Mikado?’

‘But there is Shuster. Would they want to help him?’

‘Shuster is very popular in Persia; but at home he is hardly known. The American leaders will not be able to appreciate why
he has got on the wrong side of London and St Petersburg.’

‘We could suggest to them building a railway. Perhaps they would be enticed to come to our help.’

‘Perhaps, but not for six months, and the Tsar will be here within two weeks.’

‘And the Turks? The Germans? And why not the Japanese? Did they not crush the Russians in Manchuria?’ Suddenly a young
deputy from Kirman suggested, with a hint of a smile, that the throne of Persia should be offered to the Mikado, at which
Fazel exploded:

‘We must be aware, once and for all, that we can not even make an appeal to the people of Isfahan! If we join battle, it will
be in Teheran, with the people of Teheran and with arms which are currently in the capital. Just as in Tabriz three years
ago. And it is not a thousand Cossacks that will be sent to fight us but fifty thousand. We must know that we will fight without
the slightest chance of winning.

Coming from anyone else, this disheartening speech would have aroused a torrent of accusations. Coming from the hero of Tabriz,
the most eminent ‘son of Adam’, the words were taken for what they were – an expression of cruel reality. After that it was
difficult to preach resistance, but that however was just what Fazel did.

‘If we are ready to fight, it is solely in order to safeguard the future. Does Persia not still live in the memory of the
Imam Hussein? Yet this martyr did no more than lead a lost battle. He was defeated, crushed and massacred and it is he whom
we honour. Persia needs blood in order to believe. There are seventy-two of us, the same number as Hussein’s companions. If
we die, this Parliament will become a place of pilgrimage and democracy will be anchored for centuries in the ground of the
Orient.

They all declared themselves ready to die, but they did not die. Not that they weakened or betrayed their cause. Exactly the
opposite – they tried to organise the city’s defences and volunteers, particularly ‘sons of Adam’, presented themselves in
great numbers, just as in Tabriz. However it was to no avail. After invading the north of the country, the Tsar’s troops were
now advancing in the direction of the capital. Only the snow slowed down their progress a little.

On 24 December the fallen Prime Minister decided to take power again by force. Aided by Cossacks, Bakhtiari tribes and an
important section of the army and the police, he made himself master of the capital and had the dissolution of Parliament
proclaimed. Several
deputies were arrested. Those who had been most active, with Fazel at the head of the list, were condemned to exile.

The first act of the new regime was officially to accept the terms of the Tsar’s ultimatum. A polite letter informed Morgan
Shuster that an end had been put to his functions as Treasurer General. He had only been in Persia for eight months, albeit
eight hectic and dizzying months, which all but changed the face of the Orient.

On 11 January 1912, Shuster was seen off with honours. The young Shah placed his own car at his disposal, along with his French
chauffeur Monsieur Varlet, to drive him to the port of Enzeli. There were a lot of us, foreigners and Persians, who came to
bid him farewell, some in front of his residence and others along the road. There were of course no cheers, just the discreet
gestures of thousands of hands, the tears of men and women and a crowd of strangers who were crying like abandoned lovers.
Along the whole route there was only one insignificant incident: as the convoy went past, a Cossack picked up a stone and
made as if to throw it in the direction of the American; I do not believe that he even carried through his action.

When the car had disappeared beyond the Kazvin Gate, I walked a little in the company of Charles Russel. Then I made my way
alone, by foot, to Shireen’s palace.

‘You seem rather crestfallen,’ she said as she received me.

‘I have just come from bidding farewell to Shuster.’

‘Ah! He has finally gone!’

I was not certain whether I had understood the tone of her exclamation. She explained herself.

‘Today I have been wondering whether it would not have been better if he had never set foot in this country.’

I looked at her with horror.

‘It is you who are saying that to me!’

‘Yes, it is I, Shireen, who am saying that. I, who applauded the American’s arrival, I who approved every one of his actions,
I who saw him as a redeemer. Now I regret the fact that he did not stay in far-off America.’

‘But what did he do wrong?’

‘Nothing. And that is precisely the proof that he did not understand Persia.’

I really was not following her.

‘If a minister is right and the king mistaken, a wife is right when her husband is wrong or a soldier correct and his officer
off course, are they not punished doubly? In the eyes of the weak, it is wrong to be right. Compared to the Russians and the
English, Persia is weak and should have known how to behave like a weak person.’

‘Until the end of time? Should Persia not recover one day and construct a modern state, educate its people and enter into
the concert of prosperous and respected nations? That is what Shuster was trying to do.’

‘For that I grant him the greatest admiration. However I cannot help thinking that if he had succeeded a little less we would
not be in this lamentable situation today with our democracy destroyed and our territory invaded.’

‘The Tsar’s ambitions being what they are, that would have happened sooner or later.’

‘It is always better for a misfortune to happen later. Do you know the story of Mullah Nasruddin’s talking ass?’

Mullah Nasruddin was the semi-legendary hero of all the anecdotes and parables of Persia, Transoxania and Asia Minor. Shireen
told the story:

‘It was said that a half-mad king had condemned Nasruddin to death for having stolen an ass. Just as he was about to be led
off for execution he exclaimed: “That beast is in reality my brother. A magician made him look like that, but if he were entrusted
to me for a year I would teach him to speak like us again!” Intrigued, the monarch made the accused repeat his promise before
decreeing: “Very well! But if within one year from today the ass does not speak, you will be executed.” As he went out, Nasruddin
was accosted by his wife: “How can you make a promise like that? You know very well that this ass will not speak.” “Of course
I know,” replied Nasruddin, “but during the year the king might die, the ass might or even I might.”’