‘I am flattered,’ I said spontaneously, ‘but why my country?’
Charles Russel reacted to my remark with a movement of surprise and worry. Fazel’s response quickly calmed him down.
‘We have reviewed all the Powers, one by one. The Russians and the British are only too happy to push us towards bankruptcy so they can have more control over us. The French are too preoccupied with their relations with the Tsar to be worried about our fate. On a more general level, the whole of Europe is beset by a game of alliances and counter-alliances in which Persia is only small change – a pawn on the chequer-board. Only the United States could take an interest without trying to invade us. I therefore turned to Mr Russel and asked him if he knew an American capable of taking on such a heavy task. I must acknowledge that it is he who mentioned your name. I had completely forgotten that you had studied finance.’
‘I am flattered by your faith,’ I replied, ‘but I am certainly not the man you need. In spite of my degree, I have only middling skill in finance and I have never had the opportunity to put my knowledge to the test. It is my father who is to blame, since he built so many ships that I have not had to work. I have only ever busied myself with the essential – that is to say, the futile: travelling and reading, loving and believing, doubting and fighting, and sometimes writing.’
There were embarrassed laughs and an exchange of perplexed looks. I carried on:
‘When you find your man, I can be at his side, give him unlimited advice and provide him with small services, but it is from him that you must demand competence and hard work. I am brimming over with good will but I am ignorant and lazy.’
Fazel chose not to insist, but replied to me in the same tone:
‘It is true, I can testify to it. But you also have other faults which are even greater. You are my friend as the whole world knows, and my political adversaries would have only one aim: to stop you succeeding.’
Russel listened in silence with a rigid smile on his face, as if he had been left out. Our banter was certainly not to his taste, but he did not lose his composure. Fazel turned to him:
‘I am sorry about Benjamin’s defection, but it does not change anything as far as we are concerned. Perhaps it is better to entrust this type of responsibility to a man who has never been mixed up in Persian affairs, neither from near nor afar.’
‘Are you thinking of someone in particular?’
‘I have no one’s name in mind. I would like him to be someone rigorous, honest and with an independent spirit. There are some of that race amongst you, I know. I can see the person clearly and can almost tell you that I can see him before me; an elegant, neat man who holds himself upright and looks straight ahead, and who speaks to the point. A man like Baskerville.’
The message of the Persian government to its legation in Washington on 25 December, 1910, a Sunday and Christmas Day, was cabled in these terms:
‘Request the Secretary of State immediately to put you in contact with the American financial authorities with a view to engaging a disinterested American expert for the post of Treasurer General on the basis of a preliminary contract for three years, subject to ratification by the Parliament. He will be charged with reorganizing the state’s resources and the collection of revenues and their disbursement with the help of an independent auditor who will supervise tax collection in the provinces.
‘The Minister of the United States in Teheran informs us that the Secretary of State is in agreement. Contact him directly and avoid using intermediaries. Transmit the whole text of this message to him and act according to the suggestions he makes to you.’
On the following 2 February, the Majlis approved the nomination of the American experts with an overwhelming majority and to thunderous applause.
A few days later, the Minister of Finance, who had presented the plan to the deputies, was assassinated in broad daylight by two Georgians. That very evening, the dragoman of the Russian Legation went to the Persian Ministry of Foreign Affairs to demand that the murderers, subjects of the Tsar, be handed over to him with no further ado. In Teheran everyone knew that this act was St Petersburg’s response to the vote in Parliament, but the authorities preferred to give in so as not to poison their relations with their powerful neighbour. The assassins therefore were led off to the legation and thence to the border; once over it they were free.
In protest, the bazaar closed its doors, ‘sons of Adam’ called for a boycott of Russian goods and there were even reports of acts of vengeance against the numerous Georgian nationals, the Gordji, in the country. However the government, backed up by the press, preached patience; the real reforms were going to begin, they said, experts were going to arrive and soon the State’s coffers would be full, they would pay off their debts and throw off all tutelage, they would have schools and hospitals as well as a modern army – which would force the Tsar to leave Tabriz and stop him threatening them.
Persia was waiting for miracles, and, in fact, miracles were going to come to pass.
CHAPTER 45
It was Fazel who announced the first miracle to me, triumphantly albeit in a whisper:
‘Look at him! I told you that he would look like Baskerville!’
‘He’ was Morgan Shuster, the new General Treasurer of Persia who was coming over to greet us. We had gone to meet him on the Kazvin road. He arrived, with his men, in dilapidated poste-chaises pulled by feeble horses. It was strange how much he looked like Howard: the same eyes, the same nose, the same clean-shaven face which was perhaps a little rounder, the same light hair parted the same way, the same polite but firm hand-shake. The way we looked at him must have irritated him, but he did not show it; it is true that he must have expected to be the object of sustained curiosity, coming to a foreign country in this way and in such exceptional circumstances. Throughout his stay, he would be watched, examined and followed – sometimes with malice. Each of his actions, and every one of his omissions would be reported and commented on, praised or damned.
A week after his arrival the first crisis broke out. Amongst the hundreds of people who came every day to welcome the Americans, some asked Shuster when he was planning to visit the English and Russian delegations. His response was evasive, but the questions became insistent and the affair leaked out and gave rise to animated discussions in the bazaar: should the American pay courtesy calls to the legations or not? The legations let it be known that they had been belittled and the climate became strained. Given the role that he had played in bringing Shuster, Fazel was particularly embarrassed by this diplomatic hitch which was threatening to put his whole mission at stake. He asked me to intervene.
I therefore went to see my compatriot at the Atabak Palace, a white stone building, the fine columns of which were reflected in a pond and which consisted of thirty huge rooms, some furnished in the oriental and some in the European manner, filled with carpets and objets d’art. All around was an immense park crossed by streams and peppered with man-made lakes – a real Persian paradise where the noises of the city were filtered out by the song of the cicadas. It was one of the most beautiful residences in Teheran. It had belonged to a former prime minister before being bought up by a rich Zoroastrian merchant who was a fervant supporter of the constitution and who had graciously placed it at the American’s disposal.
Shuster received me on the steps. Having recovered from the exhaustion of the journey, he seemed to me quite young. He was only thirty-four years old and did not look it. And I had thought that Washington would send over someone who looked like Father Time!
‘I have come to speak to you about this business with the legations.’
‘You too!’
He pretended to be amused.
‘I do not know,’ I stated, ‘whether you are aware of just how serious this question of protocol has become. Don’t forget, we are in the country of intrigue!’
‘No one enjoys intrigue more than I do!’
He laughed again but stopped suddenly and became as ser
ious as his position demanded of him.
‘Mr Lesage, it is not just a question of protocol. It is a question of principles. Before I accepted this post, I briefed myself thoroughly on the dozens of foreign experts who came to this country before me. Some of them lacked neither competance nor goodwill, but they all failed. Do you know why? Because they fell into the trap I am being asked to fall into today. I have been named Treasurer General of Persia by the Parliament of Persia. It is thus normal for me to signal my arrival to the Shah, the regent and the government. I am an American and can thus also go to visit the charming Mr Russel. But why am I being demanded to make courtesy calls to the Russians, the English, the Belgians and the Austrian?
‘I will tell you: because they want to show to everyone, to the Persian people who expect so much from the Americans, to the Parliament which took us on inspite of all pressure put on it, that Morgan Shuster is a foreigner like all foreigners, a farangi. Once I have made my first visits, the invitations will come pouring in; diplomats are courteous, welcoming and cultivated people, they speak the languages I know and they play the same games. I could live happily here, Mr Lesage, between games of bridge, tea, tennis, horse-riding and masked balls and when I go home in three years’ time I would be rich, happy, tanned and in the best of health. However, that is not why I came, Mr Lesage.’
He was almost shouting. An unseen hand, perhaps his wife’s, discretely shut the door to the sitting-room. He seemed not to have noticed and carried on:
‘I came with a very precise mission: to modernise Persia’s finances. These men have called upon us because they have faith in our institutions and the way we handle affairs. I have no intention of disappointing them. Nor of misleading them. I come from a Christian nation, Mr Lesage, and that means something for me. What image do the Persians have of the Christian nations today? Ultra-Christian England which appropriates their petrol and ultra-Christian Russia which imposes its will on them according to the cynical law of the survival of the fittest? Who are these Christians who have frequented here? Swindlers, arrogant, godless men and Cossacks. What idea do you want them to have of us? In what world are we going to live together? Do we have no choice to offer other than to be our slaves or our enemies? Could they not be our partners and equals? Some of them fortunately continue to believe in us and our values, but how much longer will they be able to muzzle the thousands who liken Europeans to demons?
‘What will the Persia of tomorrow be like? That depends on how we behave and on the example which we offer. Baskerville’s sacrifice has made people forget the greed of many other Europeans. I have the greatest esteem for him, but I assure you I have no intention of dying; quite simply, I wish to be honest. I shall serve Persia as I would serve an American company. I shall not despoil Persia but I will make every effort to clean it up and make it prosper, and shall respect its government but without bowing and scraping.’
Stupidly, tears had started to pour down my face. Shuster fell silent and watched me warily and a little confused.
‘Would you please excuse me if I have hurt you, without meaning to, by my tone of voice or my words.’
I stood up and held out my hand.
‘You have not hurt me, Mr Shuster, I am simply shattered. I am going to report your words to my Persian friends and their reaction will not be any different from mine.’
When I left I ran to the Baharistan; I knew that I would find Fazel there. The moment I saw him in the distance I shouted out:
‘Fazel. There has been another miracle!’
On 13 June, the Persian Parliament decided, by an unprecedented vote, to confer full powers on Morgan Shuster to reorganize the country’s finances. Henceforth he would be invited regularly to be present at Cabinet meetings.
In the meantime, another incident had become the topic of conversation in bazaar and chancellery alike. A rumour, whose origin was unknown but which could be easily guessed, accused Morgan Shuster of belonging to a Persian sect. The whole thing may seem absurd but the people spreading the rumour had distilled their venom well enough to be able to give the gossip an air of plausibility. Overnight the Americans became suspect in the eyes of the crowd. Once again I was charged to speak about it to the Treasurer General. Our relations had become closer since our first meeting. I called him Morgan and he called me Ben. I explained to him the subject of the offence.
‘They are saying that amongst your servants there are babis or acknowledged bahais, which fact Fazel has confirmed to me. They are also saying that the bahais have just founded a very active branch in the United States. They have deduced that all Americans in the legation are in fact bahais who, under the pretext of cleaning up the country’s finances, have come to win converts.’
Morgan deliberated for a moment:
‘I shall respond to the only important question: no, I have not come to preach or convert, but in order to reform Persian finances which are in dire need of it. I shall add, for your information, that I am of course not a bahai and that I only learnt of the existence of these sects from Professor Browne’s book just before I arrived, and that I am still unable to differentiate between a babi and a bahai. On the matter of my servants, of whom there are a good fifteen in this huge house, everyone knows that they were here before I arrived. Their work gives me satisfaction and that is the only thing that matters. I am not accustomed to judge fellow-workmen by their faith or the colour of their tie!’
‘I can understand your attitude perfectly well. It corresponds to my own convictions. However, we are in Persia and sensibilities are sometimes different. I have just seen the new Minister of Finance. He thinks that in order to silence the slanderers, the servants concerned, or at least some of them, will have to be fired.’
‘Is the Minister of Finance worrying about this business?’
‘More than you think. He fears that it might jeopardize everything he has undertaken in his sector. He has asked me to brief him this evening on how I have got on.’
‘Don’t let me delay you. You can tell him on my behalf that no servant will be dismissed and that as far as I am concerned the matter ends there!’
He stood up. I felt compelled to keep trying.
‘I am not certain that that response will be sufficient, Morgan!’
‘No? In that case, you can add to it: “Minister of Finance, if you have nothing better to do than examine my gardener’s religion, I can supply you with more important files to pad out your time.”’
I gave the minister only the gist of his words, but I am quite certain that Morgan himself repeated them to him verbatim at the first opportunity, moreover without causing the slightest drama. In fact everyone was happy that common sense had been spoken with no beating about the bush.
‘Since Shuster has been here,’ Shireen confided in me one day, ‘the atmosphere is somewhat healthier and cleaner. When faced with a chaotic and convoluted situation, one always thinks that it will take centuries to sort it out. Suddenly a man appears and as if by magic, the tree we thought was doomed takes on new life and starts bearing leaves and fruit and giving shade. This foreigner has given me back my faith in my countrymen. He does not speak to them as natives, he does not have any respect for peoples’ sensitivities or their pettiness, but speaks to them like men and the Persians are rediscovering that they are men. Do you know that in my family the old women pray for him?’
CHAPTER 46
I am in no way departing from the truth by stating that in that year of 1911 all of Persia was living in the ‘age of the American’ and that Shuster was indisputably the most popular official and one of the most powerful. The newspapers supported his actions all the more enthusiastically when he took the trouble to invite the editors over from time to time to brief them on his projects and solicit their advice on some prickly questions.
Above all, and most importantly, his difficult mission was on the road to success. Before even reforming the fiscal system, he managed to balance the budget simply by limiting theft and waste. Prev
iously, innumerable notables, princes, ministers or high dignitaries would send their demands to the Treasury in the form of a note scribbled on a greasy piece of paper, and the civil servants were constrained to satisfy them unless they wished to lose their job or their life. With Morgan everything had changed overnight.
I will give one example out of so many others. On 17 June at a Cabinet meeting, Shuster was presented with a pathetic request for the sum of forty-two million tumans in order to pay the salaries of the troops in Teheran.
‘Otherwise a rebellion will break out and it is the Treasurer General who will bear the entire responsibility!’ exclaimed Amir-i-Azam, the ‘Supreme Emir’, the Minister of War.
Shuster gave the following response:
‘The Minister himself took a similar sum ten days ago. What has he done with it?’
‘I have used it to pay part of the soldiers’ back-pay. Their families are hungry and the officers are all in debt. The situation is intolerable.’
‘Is the Minister certain that there is nothing left from that sum?’
‘Not the smallest coin!’
Shuster took out of his pocket a small visiting card which was covered with tiny writing and which he conspicuously consulted before stating:
‘The sum which the Treasury paid out ten days ago has been deposited in its entirety in the personal account of the Minister. Not one tuman has been spent. I have here the name of the banker and the figures.’
The supreme Emir, a huge fleshy man, stood up, bristling with rage; he placed his hand on his chest and cast a furious glance at his colleagues:
‘Is this an attempt to question my honour?’
As no one reassured him on that point, he added: