Kader Abdolah - The King

Mostovi Almamalek let the Russian embassy know that serious problems had arisen and the new embassy could not be built on that spot. But the Russians, who thought the British were behind all this, ignored the vizier’s warning and carried on with their work. Under no circumstances was the Kremlin willing to abandon its building plans.

The vizier paid a personal visit to the ayatollah at his home in order to speak with him: ‘I understand your concern, which is why I’m working so hard to find a new site for the Russians. I am asking you to be patient.’

Finally Mostovi Almamalek succeeded in finding another site for the Russian embassy. He sent his messenger to the shah so an agreement on the matter could be reached as soon as possible.

‘Not now. Later,’ the shah told his vizier. ‘We’re on our way to Mashad for a working visit. You can come to see us when we return.’

The city of Mashad lay on the Persian — Indian border. The journey alone would take the shah two weeks. It seemed the shah was refusing to acknowledge the sensitivity and gravity of the problem. An outburst could happen at any moment, especially with him away from the capital.

The ayatollah gave the vizier his support and said he was willing to wait until the shah returned from Mashad.

The shah had long ago stopped taking Malijak with him on his travels. It had become difficult for Malijak to put up with the demands of long journeys, so he stayed at home and made life difficult for everyone else. He had a nice collection of pop guns that had been given to him over the years on various occasions. The shah had bought one of the guns for him in Belgium during his European trip. When you shot it at someone the sound it produced was so authentic that the victim would become momentarily confused.

After the shah had left for Mashad Malijak spent every day roaming through the palace with his Belgian gun. His deteriorating eyesight had had no effect on the virulence of the terror he generated. Everyone gave him food and filled his pockets with sweets to stay on good terms with him.

The shah’s British doctor, who also treated Malijak, had recently said to the shah, ‘He must get more exercise or he’ll be dead within a few years.’ In order to provide that exercise the shah had arranged for a group of hardy servants to carry Malijak into the hills in a sedan chair every now and then. The servants also had to take a cage full of chickens with them. Once they got into the hills they would release the chickens so Malijak could chase them with his gun. This was supposed to be a playful form of exercise, though it did him very little good.

After such a day in the hills Malijak invariably insisted on being taken to the bazaar. For those seeing him for the first time he struck a remarkable figure: a fat, handicapped prince with strange eyes and a gun in his hand being carried on the shoulders of his servants.

Malijak loved being in the bazaar more than anywhere else because the merchants kept stuffing him with treats. No one there was pleased by these little visits, for Malijak terrorised all and sundry. The merchants had already complained a number of times to the head of the bazaar police that they did not appreciate Malijak’s presence and that he constantly harassed them. But the head of the police didn’t dare pass the complaints on to the palace. Even sending telegrams directly to the shah hadn’t helped.

Now that the shah was gone Malijak ordered the servants to take him to the bazaar even more often. He caused pandemonium day after day — until the shopkeepers decided it was too much. They saw the irritating Malijak as an appendage of the shah. Then the rumour went round that the shah had left Malijak home on purpose just to get under their skin. Their indignation sought an outlet. One afternoon, as if by common agreement, they all began throwing goodies at Malijak. Then the beggars stormed the sedan chair, pushing each other and the servants out of the way in order to get their hands on the sweets.

Malijak was greatly amused by both the hail of confectionery and the fighting beggars. He roared with laughter and shot his pop gun. The bazaar exploded in chaos. The bearers were pushed aside, Malijak’s chair toppled over and he fell to the ground with his full weight. The shopkeepers began throwing coins to divert the attention of the beggars, but the mayhem only got worse. In an effort to restore order the police fired a few shots, injuring a number of beggars and shopkeepers.

After the beggars had been chased away the policemen saw Malijak lying wounded on the ground. They put him on a cart and transported him back to the palace. When the shopkeepers saw that Malijak was being treated like a prince while their colleagues were left to fend for themselves, they closed the bazaar in protest and proceeded to the house of Ayatollah Tabatabai, shouting, ‘Allah! Allah! Justice!’

Jamal Khan, who had witnessed the unrest and smelled an opportunity, entered the ayatollah’s house, knelt down before him and said, ‘History is knocking at your door.’

Tabatabai heard the crowds shouting outside: ‘ Elteja, elteja , all our hope is in you!’ The ayatollah flung open the door of his home, but he had no way of knowing that in doing so he had taken on the responsibility of steering the homeland into a new era. The shopkeepers unrolled carpets and began claiming sanctuary in the ayatollah’s house.

Directed by Jamal Khan they fastened a large banner over the door with three short but powerful words written on it: ‘ Qanun! Majles! Edalat-khaneh ! Constitution! Parliament! Court of justice!’

The first Persian religion was named after the Persian prophet Zoroaster. For the followers of Zoroaster fire was holy. They saw it as the earthly symbol of their god, Ahura Mazda. According to their teaching the very first fire that man ever made was preserved in the Zoroastrians’ main temple in the city of Yazd. This temple was therefore given the name ‘ atashkadeh ’, which means ‘house for fire’.

The Zoroastrian priests dictated every aspect of human conduct, and the people acted accordingly. When the Arabs invaded Persia under the flag of Islam they banned the religion of Zoroastrianism. They stormed the ancient temple in Yazd to extinguish the fire, but the priests had already taken it away and fled to India, accompanied by vast numbers of followers.

It took a few centuries for the people of Persia to accept Islam, but as an act of resistance they refused to adopt the Islam of the occupiers and instead founded a new Islamic belief. This became the Islam of Persia, now known as Shia Islam. Since then the Persians have had their own clerics, the imams and the ayatollahs, which is the highest religious status an imam can achieve. The ayatollahs introduced new rules and social norms. They led simple lives and did not interfere with the ruling elite.

The aged Ayatollah Shirazi, incited by Jamal Khan and his people, was the first to use his clerical clout to help the destitute tobacco merchants and the farmers on the tobacco plantations by issuing a fatwa. This marked the beginning of the clerics’ gradual quest for power. One of these clerics was Tabatabai. After the incident in the bazaar Tabatabai went to the holy city of Qom. He told the clerics there about the violated burial ground, the plans to build the new Russian embassy and the shah’s stubborn refusal to take action. Indeed the shah had turned his back on the problem by going to Mashad.

The story of the burial ground had its effect. The Russians’ opening of Muslim graves was seen by the ayatollahs as a flagrant insult. They sided with Tabatabai.

The shah returned to Tehran earlier than expected. Assured of Qom’s powerful support Ayatollah Tabatabai sent him a sharply worded letter on the question of the burial ground and Malijak’s reign of terror. He used these two matters to get to his ultimate demand: ‘The people demand qanun, majles, edalat-khaneh.’ The ayatollah wanted the letter to be taken to the palace by his messenger, but Jamal Khan advised against it. ‘The shah is ignoring you. He’ll dismiss the letter as well. I think this calls for a different approach.’