There wasn’t a soul in the inn, but the harbour was very busy. The carts, which had still been full the night before and stored in the customs building, were all lying empty and in pieces. Bits of broken trunks and fragments of the souvenirs lay scattered all over the beach or floating in the surf.
Utterly distraught the shah called for his advisors, but no one responded. He called for his personal servant – ‘Mashadi! Mashadi!’ – but he too failed to appear. Choking, he shouted, ‘Malijak!’
Malijak tottered up to the shah and held his hand, crying.
The shah had to spend one more night in the inn in order to speak to the chief of police the following day. The officer arrived early the next morning to pay his respects. He expressed his deepest regret and promised that Russia would pay the necessary compensation. The shah wrote a letter to the tsar and complained about the painful experience he had undergone in his country, ending with the following remark: ‘A pack of thieves have managed to cast an ugly shadow on our precious memories of Your Highness the tsar and his beloved family.’
When he left seven cannon shots were fired. A group of officers saluted the shah and accompanied him to the ship. The head of the Russian customs office said, ‘We will do everything we can to get to the bottom of this, and we will keep Your Majesty informed. Your trunks will be returned to you.’
Disappointed, distressed and – far worse – empty-handed, the shah and Malijak boarded the Russian ship.
The trip across the Caspian Sea to Tehran was sheer misery for the shah. He spent the greater part of the crossing being sick. Once in Tehran he crawled right into bed. He told the chamberlain that he was to see no one for the next three days. The shah had a fever and his throat was sore. The incident in the Russian harbour had done him no good, but the whole overwhelming journey had also taken its toll.
He had always regarded his palace as a paradise on earth, an idyllic garden that sparked the imagination. Now that he had seen the palaces of the West and knew how the other heads of state lived, his own palace seemed more like a medieval citadel. He couldn’t imagine visiting his harem again, having to ring his bell to alert his chamberlain and having to see the same guards, beggars, bazaars and eunuchs.
Everything in his hall of mirrors and in his bedroom struck him as old-fashioned. The closets, the chairs, the tables, the mirrors, the stairways, the shoes and his hats all looked shabby. He pulled the blankets up over his head and wished he could fall asleep and never wake up so he wouldn’t have to face another day of this backward life.
On the fourth day Taj Olsultan brought her child to the palace to pay the shah a visit. It was the only way to call him back to reality. Finally the shah agreed to show his face.
‘Oh, Father, how thin you’ve grown!’
The shah kissed his daughter and admired his grandchild, who was sleeping under a sheer, milky white velvet blanket.
‘He’s grown bigger and he’s changed,’ he said quietly.
‘What do you mean? I can’t see it myself.’
The shah pressed a kiss on his grandson’s head with his hand.
‘Father, what’s troubling you?’
The shah immediately started in on the robbery in the Russian harbour. ‘We were bringing beautiful clothes for you. We had bought books for you and boxes full of toys for our grandchild. But those Russians have inflicted great pain on us. We had a premonition that they would rob us, which is why we refused to leave our trunks behind. We had bought a gold necklace for you and a locket for the child in Paris. Fortunately we put these two souvenirs in the bag in which we carry our diary. God didn’t want me to come back to you and your child empty-handed. Look, here they are.’
The shah picked up a magnificent gold necklace set with little jewels and fastened it round his daughter’s neck.
‘It’s very beautiful, Father, and elegant,’ said Taj Olsultan. She held her father’s hands and kissed them.
‘This locket is for our crown prince. Keep it for him for later, as a memento of our journey.’
The child opened his eyes and stared at the shah. Taj Olsultan picked him up and laid him in her father’s arms.
The shah beamed with happiness and said, ‘Mashallah, mashallah, he looks more and more like us.’ He kissed the child and held him up high. Then he tossed him up in the air just a bit.
‘Don’t do that, Father. Be careful,’ laughed Taj apprehensively.
‘We’re careful. Of course we’re careful,’ said the shah, and he tossed the child so high that he began to cry with fear.
‘Father, give him back and tell me: how was your journey?’
‘It was an extraordinary experience. We don’t know where to begin. Everywhere we went we were received like a true king. The heads of state in the West still think we live in the glorious Persian days of yore. We were surprised to discover that the world knows so much about our past. We kept a travel diary and there are still many details we want to add to it. Later we will give it to you for safekeeping, but do not publish our adventures until after we are dead.
‘There are some things, however, that are for your ears alone. Funny experiences. Every time we think of them we have to laugh all over again. In Moscow we were invited to a dinner with the tsar. We climbed the stairs at his side. I was walking upright and was holding onto my sword. Suddenly I felt something slip out of my hand and onto the floor. It was part of my sword, but I couldn’t quickly determine which part. Then my eyes fell on a green jewel lying on the carpet. It was the diamond from our sword. What was I to do? We couldn’t just let such a precious stone lie there. I bowed down to pick it up. The tsar turned round, but he didn’t understand what I was up to.’
The shah took the green jewel out of his jacket pocket, gave it to Taj Olsultan and said with a laugh, ‘This is something the Russians weren’t able to take from us.’
‘Father, you mustn’t dwell on that robbery.’
‘I know, but they were gifts, for you and for our wives. After all, people expect something from us.’
‘Yes, I know. But they’ll understand. I’m so curious to hear about what you did on your journey. Tell me everything.’
The shah began to laugh. ‘This is something else we can only tell you. Normally our trousers always stayed up round our waist. But while we were in a theatre in Hungary they kept slipping down. We had been invited to attend a concert one evening. When the wife of the Hungarian king took our arm to guide us to the box, our trousers began to fall down. We tried to hold them up with our elbow, but it didn’t work. That’s when we realised we had lost several kilos along the way.’
Taj Olsultan covered her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing out loud.
‘I can just imagine, Father, on such a long journey, without rest and with constant tension. Even so you seem to be bursting with health.’
‘In Berlin we visited a zoo. They had lions, tigers, snakes and elephants. We found it very impressive. Malijak enjoyed it so much he didn’t want to leave. In the past, when we were young, we ran into lions and tigers in the forests. But these days they’re nowhere to be found. We thought it would be a good idea to build such a zoo in Tehran. We’ll have one built for your son. It’s very good for him to see such creatures up close. Perhaps we can still find lions, snakes and tigers in our own country. We’ll have to bring in monkeys and elephants from India.’
‘Father, what was it like in Paris? Did you speak French with the people in the street?’
‘Of course, but the people in the street speak in a way we’re not accustomed to. I believe we speak better French than the Parisians. They speak correctly, but it’s a kind of broken French. We’ve written everything down, since the most interesting things happened in Paris. The Seine winds through the city, and avenues have been built along both banks. One evening we went for a walk there. The river, the avenues and the bridges were illuminated with extraordinary electric street lamps. It was as if we had wandered into a mysterious story. The jewels on our jacket and
rings glittered magically and our shadows looked very elegant.’
When Taj Olsultan was gone the shah summoned his vizier, Mostovi Almamalek, who came immediately.
‘How was Your Majesty’s trip?’ he asked enthusiastically.
The shah thanked him for having planned his trip so well.
‘All during the journey we noticed over and over again that our vizier had gone to great lengths on our behalf. We had brought back a special memento for you, but unfortunately it was lost in the Russian harbour. The result of this long journey was all in our luggage. But now the luggage is gone, so the journey was made for nothing.’
‘I am sorry that the shah has met with this misfortune. But there is more to the journey than presents.’
‘Indeed, we did visit a great many factories, building projects, museums and agricultural exhibitions. We still aren’t fully recovered, but soon we will talk about all our experiences when the cabinet meets.’
The vizier wanted to know everything about the journey, but the shah limited himself to his visits to factories and the discussions he had conducted with businessmen and important merchants.
‘In Germany we visited Krupp, the factory where they make steel and weapons. It was most impressive. The director of the factory let us see their new cannons. We couldn’t believe our eyes! I measured the length of one of the cannons with my feet. It was twenty-one steps long. A boy of fourteen could easily crawl into the barrel of that cannon. We ordered a whole series of cannons and a batch of rifles. In Russia, Hungary, Amsterdam, Belgium and France we signed contracts with the owners of shoe factories, porcelain companies, tobacco plantations, clock makers, textile businesses and many others. The contracts stipulate that their representatives will come to Tehran later on to discuss these matters further.’
The vizier realised it made no sense to raise any objections to the contracts now, although he hinted that the shah ought to be careful.
‘I am glad the journey was an interesting experience for the shah, but it would be better for the country if the cabinet were to thoroughly examine and discuss the contracts you have signed.’
‘That is good. We have new plans ourselves, which we will talk about later on.’ The shah stood up. There was one incident that he did not want to withhold from the vizier. The vizier followed him to the door.
‘Something happened to us in Berlin that we did not find pleasant. We wanted to pass on a comment to those responsible, but we have not done so.’
‘What happened, Your Majesty?’
‘In Berlin one floor of a hotel had been reserved for us. It was very good and we were satisfied. Late in the evening, when we had gone to bed after a long day, we heard a group of riotous men. We suspected they knew we were spending the night there. They began to bray like donkeys, low like cows and bark like dogs. We wanted to open the window and urge them to be quiet, but we didn’t. We hid our head under the blankets and pillows to block out the noise. The police failed to do anything about it.’
‘I fear the men were drunk. People in Berlin drink a great deal. The police in the West have much less power than ours do. Yet Your Majesty acted properly. Every journey has its negative as well as its positive aspects. The most important thing is that the shah is healthy and that we can make use of his royal experience.’
When the vizier was gone the shah went back to his study, locked himself in and focused all his attention on his diary. He sat there until deep into the night and did not touch his evening meal. The shah wrote, leafed through his book, read and re-read what he had written.
Today we wandered around the Kremlin square. It is a large castle with a sturdy gate. There we ate some kind of orange that was red on the inside, which we found quite delicious.
The tsar’s wife held us by our arm and the tsar held the arm of a beautiful young woman whose name we have forgotten. We entered a large room. It was a room in which people dance, and occasionally some kind of masked parties are held there. Something like this would also please our wives.
At dinner the tsar’s wife sat next to us and the beautiful woman sat across from us. We very much wanted to speak with her, but the tsar’s wife prattled on the whole night and gave us not a moment’s peace. Her breath stank. God is punishing us for something.
The shah read this and smiled. He remembered something charming he had witnessed in Paris but had forgotten to write down. Now he added it: ‘In Paris we saw a blonde woman reflected in the mirror of our coach, as if her photograph had been framed in the mirror. No woman could ever be as beautiful as she. The coach rode on and the woman disappeared from the mirror. We were prepared to purchase her with gold, but even a king has his limitations.’
It was late at night. Normally he would be in bed by now, reading, but he couldn’t stop writing. He leafed back to the chapter he had written about his visit to Holland. His heart almost broke with longing when he read it.
We rode into the Amsterdam train station, and there waiting for us were the mayor, a couple of generals and the city’s chief of police. As soon as we emerged from the train, the musicians began playing a deafening piece on their instruments. We immediately felt welcome.
Amsterdam is a beautiful city. The streets are clean and the houses are like biscuit tins stacked on top of each other. You would think the city had been made by children. The king of Holland is ill. He has a young daughter who will succeed him when he dies. If it were up to us, we would have appointed Taj Olsultan as our successor.
We rode through the city by coach, and an enormous throng of people stood along the streets to admire us. We have seen many beautiful women. I believe there are no ugly women in that country.
The people had never seen a Persian before, let alone a Persian king. They waved at us, and some of the women blew us kisses with their hands. This made us feel uneasy, but we enjoyed ourselves.
That night we stayed in an extraordinary hotel on a canal. It was very clean and we slept well. They are refined people, the Dutch. No one brays like a donkey at night. We spent two weeks in that country. We saw a great deal, visited many factories and did business with the merchants. They are well-behaved businessmen, not as insolent as the merchants in our own bazaars.
But in Lahe, The Hague, we looked death in the eyes. We had gone to that city to pay a visit to their parliament and to meet their vizier. Here too the people were extremely happy to see us. The women were visibly delighted. They shouted slogans and welcomed us, clapping their hands. We waved to them and bowed our head slightly in their direction. All those people made the poor horses skittish and nervous. Suddenly they bolted. The coachman was unable to keep them under control. Women and children screamed, and we sat there, powerless, in the coach. The horses raced over the lawns and the doorsteps. The coach bumped against the trees and against the edge of the pavement. I could see the frightened faces. All the screaming drove the horses wild. We thought we were done for. Then the coach ran into a lamp post and got stuck. The guards hastened to assist us and pulled us out. The people looked on in shock, but we straightened our back and waved at them. For a moment there was silence. Then cheering burst forth: ‘Long live the shah!’
Our eyes were filled with tears. Lovely people.
The shah closed his diary with a smile.
The next day he lingered in bed, but he knew he had to pick up the thread of his life. This was his life, this was his country and he was the shah, the person who had to provide leadership.
He got up, ate his breakfast and summoned Eyn ed-Dowleh. His son-in-law had heard from Taj that the shah was a bit depressed. His detailed account of the arrest of the resistance group heavyweights would make the shah happy, he thought.
‘But you weren’t able to catch their leader!’
‘According to our information we have apprehended the most dangerous man in the group.’
‘Which man is that?’
‘Mirza Reza Kermani.’
At the insistence of Eyn ed-Dowleh the shah spent the next day v
isiting the notorious prison outside the city.
A prisoner in iron chains was pushed outside by three guards. The man put his hands over his eyes to protect them from the sunlight. Eyn ed-Dowleh walked up to him, grabbed the chain and shouted, ‘Kneel before the shah.’
The prisoner refused. Eyn ed-Dowleh struck him on the shoulder with his rifle, causing the man to fall down at the shah’s feet.
‘This is Mirza Reza Kermani!’ said Eyn ed-Dowleh.
The shah pressed Mirza Reza to the ground with his polished brown boots and said contemptuously, ‘Is this little fellow dangerous?’
Mirza Reza was no little fellow, but the lack of food and sunlight in his damp cell had weakened him considerably.
Eyn ed-Dowleh had expected the shah to say, ‘String him up!’ But the shah turned round and walked away.
Perhaps it was on account of the journey that he was no longer able to casually order someone’s hanging. Perhaps he wanted to humiliate Eyn ed-Dowleh for failing to arrest Jamal Khan. But it was also possible that fate had something else in mind for Mirza Reza.
54. Cable Complaints
After the fighting in and around the Jameh mosque, Eyn ed-Dowleh had put all the gates of Tehran under surveillance to prevent Jamal Khan from fleeing the city. He had searches conducted in all the houses that he suspected of being places where Jamal Khan might be holed up. The house of Ayatollah Tabatabai was passed over, however – the very place where Jamal Khan had taken shelter.
On the evening that Jamal Khan was shot in the leg, he mustered up every scrap of strength he had and managed to reach the home of Ayatollah Tabatabai. He spent his first months inside the ayatollah’s house, waiting for his leg to heal so he could walk again. He let his beard grow and, with the ayatollah’s approval, donned clerical robes, put a turban on his head and returned to daily life disguised as an imam.
He tried to convince Tabatabai that the power of the shah would have to be curtailed, and that a majles (parliament) and an edalat-khaneh (court of justice) were essential for the future of the country.