Kader Abdolah - The King

The shah underestimated the merchants’ protest. The British, however, took it seriously right from the start. They were afraid the troubles in Shiraz would spread to the bazaars of other cities, and that the merchants would jeopardise the import of British sugar cubes, tea, textiles and other products. Almost immediately the British ambassador came knocking on the door of the palace, advising the shah to come to an agreement with the merchants of Shiraz. The shah asked for time to reflect.

Sheikh Aqasi’s religious background made it difficult for him to provide the shah with the right kind of advice. And now that the resistance movement had taken on a religious tone he was becoming even more stricken by doubt. He often simply adopted Mahdolia’s opinion.

The shah also regularly conferred with his son-in-law Eyn ed-Dowleh, gradually involving him — as the husband of his daughter Taj — in the governing of the country. But in this situation he needed someone who could untangle thorny problems, someone with experience. He turned to his mother.

Mahdolia was resolute: ‘Ignore the advice of the British ambassador and increase the pressure on the merchants.’

Armed guards burst into the bazaar and emptied the tills of the tobacco merchants in order to pay their debts to the British company. One leading merchant, acting on behalf of his fellows, tried to stop the officers, but he was so badly beaten that he fell to the ground and broke his shoulder.

The humiliated merchants turned to the aged ayatollah, who tried to lift up their spirits. Taking up his walking stick, and followed by all the merchants of the bazaar, he went to the home of the wounded man. Upon leaving the house after the visit he urged the nervous merchants to calm down and then announced, ‘The bazaar of Shiraz is closing its shops in protest!’

The merchants acted without a moment’s hesitation.

In the middle of the night Amir Nezam climbed onto the roof of the bazaar and hung a large banner across the front of the gate. By the next morning a crowd had gathered and were pointing to the text on the banner. Most of these people were illiterate and they asked each other what the banner said. When they finally found out, it sounded like a cryptic message: ‘The Shiraz bazaar no longer sells British tobacco. The merchants of Shiraz demand a national telegraph network for the advancement of trade.’

No one knew who had hung the big banner above the gate. It hadn’t even occurred to most of the shopkeepers that the bazaar could use the telegraph service for its own purposes. This gave the protest a totally different twist.

The chief of police had the banner pulled down. He also ordered the merchants to open their shops. If they refused, the officers would no longer guarantee the shops’ safety. But the order fell on deaf ears. That night the chief of police released dozens of thieves and bandits from prison and sent them to the bazaar to plunder the shops. They forced the doors, took whatever they could carry and threw the rest into the street.

The next day the merchants gathered in front of the ayatollah’s home to hear his decision. Shirazi sent a courier to the merchants of the Tehran bazaar, calling on them to shut their shops in solidarity with Shiraz. The merchants of Tehran complied, after which the shah sent in bandits to ransack the Tehran bazaar, just as they had done in Shiraz.

The very thing that England feared was now happening. The protest quickly spread across the entire country. Even ordinary people lent their support. In the meantime the ayatollahs of all the major cities had been sent prints of the photograph of the British director in imam garb. Their verdict was unanimous: Islam was in danger. A collective slogan was chosen: ‘England! Hands off our tobacco!’

The shah refused to consent to this demand and, egged on by his mother, he increased the level of violence. But the people only became more resolute. For the first time in history they had the chance to resist the reigning rulers. The merchants gathered at the ayatollah’s house. They could only keep their shops closed for a short time or the public mood would turn against them.

The shah had run out of patience. He ordered that the merchants be driven out of the ayatollah’s home and that the aged ayatollah be removed to a secret address.

The police had not counted on the ferocity of the merchants’ resistance. Fearing for their own lives the officers opened fire. One person was killed. The people in the courtyard attacked the police, who began shooting at random. The inhabitants in the surrounding streets were awakened and stormed out of their houses, heading for the home of Ayatollah Shirazi. Hundreds of people filled the streets and stood on the roofs, so the police were closed in on all sides.

Shirazi then emerged from the library, accompanied by Jamal Khan and Amir Nezam. Amir Nezam set the ayatollah’s reading table in front of him. Leaning on the shoulder of Jamal Khan the ayatollah heaved himself onto the table with difficulty. He raised his walking stick and a deathly silence fell. ‘I am issuing a fatwa. From this moment on tobacco is prohibited. No one in the country is to smoke any more tobacco. Anyone here who fails to comply is declaring war on God.’

A fatwa was always used as a form of legal advice. When the Islamic judges were unable to pass judgement on a particular matter they would seek the advice of an ayatollah, who would offer them instructions. These matters always had to do with Muslims and their way of life, involving such questions as eating pork, drinking alcohol and Muslim women associating with non-believers. But this was the first time a fatwa with political overtones had been issued. This fatwa was momentous and sensitive because it was aimed at the shah and the greatest power in the world, England. The old ayatollah had no way of knowing what the consequences of his fatwa would be over the next hundred years, or how his words would alter relations in the Middle East.

Ayatollah Mirzaye Shirazi had spoken, and when he was done he went back to his room. His words would prove more powerful than a thousand cannons. For one long moment it was silent in the courtyard, silent in the alley, silent in the country, silent in the shah’s palace and silent in London.

No one could have foreseen the impact of the events in Shiraz. The fact that England was under fire was a godsend for Russia. And because it was becoming obvious that the shah was losing his self-confidence and control, the Russian ambassador in Tehran submitted the definitive contract for the Russian railway to the shah for his signature.

The shah hadn’t fully grasped what the fatwa actually meant, let alone that anyone knew how to put it into practice.

Ayatollah Shirazi himself was at a loss. One day, while taking his daily walk, he paused for a rest and looked behind him. There he saw his hookah lying on the bench. Probably the servant had put it there. Shirazi walked back and pushed the hookah over with the point of his walking stick, so it hit the paving stones with a crash and shattered into pieces. The servant witnessed this and took it to be an act of resistance. The report spread like wildfire. Thousands upon thousands of hookahs were thrown into the street and smashed.

In no time at all the country was littered with broken hookahs. Even in front of the British embassy in Tehran there were shards of hookahs lying in protest. To be on the safe side the building caretaker locked the iron gate of the embassy with a heavy chain and the embassy staff withdrew into the residence.

The shah too heard about the hookah actions. At first he thought it was just the work of young mischief-makers, but it appeared that the perpetrators were from all walks of life. What would the ayatollah’s next appeal be? Would he dare to set the populace directly against the shah?