The King

14. The Spring Festival

It was spring, and the shah wanted to celebrate the Persian New Year as the Persian kings of old had done.

The festival had not been a lavish occasion in past years, but this time he was going to do it in style. His plan was to sit on the jewel-encrusted throne that dated from the time of the Medes and the Persians. Only the great Persian kings — Cyrus, Cambyses and Darius — had done that during their festivals. It was a simple but magical throne that was so old it was depicted on one of the stone walls in the ruins of the Persepolis Palace. This famous tableau shows Darius, the king of kings, receiving the other kings during the spring festival as they present him with gifts for the new spring season. Alexander the Great once set fire to the palace, but the throne was rescued and taken to a safe place.

According to the Persian calendar spring was arriving at ten o’clock in the morning that year. The guests who had been invited to the palace had made an early start. They were led to their places according to their rank by festively dressed servants. The guests stood in two rows facing each other so the shah could walk between them in order to greet them. The old, wise family members from the shah’s own tribe stood in front, followed by the foreign delegations. Opposite them stood the warlords and a deputation of imams, led by the ayatollah of Tehran. Next to the imams were the military. Then came representatives of the bazaar and of all the other professions and trades.

Everyone glistened in their New Year’s finery, and all the beards were well combed and neatly trimmed. People smelled of roses, candles were burning and fragrant spices had been thrown on the fire. Happy voices and music could be heard on every side — all in anticipation of the shah’s imminent appearance, which was to take place from behind the new long green curtains. Yet everyone was waiting for the foreign delegations. Something was wrong. They had arrived, but they were still standing near the pond.

The shah, who had been informed of the delay, looked past the curtain into the courtyard. He noticed that his vizier was involved in a serious discussion with the British ambassador.

‘What’s going on?’ the shah asked the chamberlain.

‘There is a disagreement between the vizier and the British delegation.’

‘What about?’

‘The British want to keep their boots on when they enter.’

‘But this is not a stable. They have always taken off their shoes. Why not now?’

Everyone who entered the palace took off their shoes. The king was the only one who kept his shoes and boots on.

The British had chosen this way to express their displeasure about the activities of the Russians and the French. At first glance it seemed like such a little thing, but a very sensitive nerve had been touched. The vizier understood that it wasn’t about the boots. He tried to control himself, but inside he was boiling with rage. The insolent British had provoked the vizier’s ire once before when they recognised Afghanistan as a sovereign state.

‘You will take off your boots!’ the vizier said imperturbably to the ambassador.

‘We have our traditions, just as the Persians have theirs,’ responded the man. ‘Britons never take their boots off, let alone at a festival given by the Persian king.’

His answer irritated the vizier even more. ‘On other occasions you have greeted the king without your shoes,’ he pointed out.

‘Different rules apply for different occasions,’ said the ambassador.

Mirza Kabir was faced with an impossible problem. Time was pressing, spring was about to start, the new calendar year had begun, hundreds of guests were waiting inside and the shah would lose his patience.

In the meantime the matter had reached the ears of all the guests and there was uproar in the hall.

‘With their shoes on?’

‘What an insult!’

‘Those arrogant British again.’

‘The shah will never allow it.’

The imams made it clear that this was unacceptable.

‘It is forbidden,’ the ayatollah of Tehran announced. ‘The shah is the shadow of God on earth. His palace is as holy as a temple. If the British do not want to come in, then they won’t come in.’

The vizier let the British stay where they were and went to talk with the other foreign representatives.

The Ottomans were used to taking off their shoes. The French ambassador let the vizier know that the French in Africa always took off their shoes out of respect. The Russians, who knew what the British were really annoyed about, walked in their stocking feet across the mysterious carpet to take their place behind the Turks and the French.

‘Time is pressing,’ said the vizier to the British ambassador.

‘We realise that, but we have strict orders from London. The British do not take off their shoes,’ said the Briton.

‘I can offer you a pair of royal socks,’ said the vizier in a conciliatory tone. ‘You can pull them up over your boots.’

‘Out of the question,’ said the Briton.

The vizier noticed that the shah had disappeared behind the curtain.

‘The hospitality of the Persians is world famous, but the shah has decided. This far and no further,’ said the vizier.

The British ambassador motioned to his delegation and they walked to their coaches without taking formal leave.

The vizier waited until they were gone, hastened up the stairs, took off his boots and went into the hall. The cannons fired salutes, the orchestra began to play, spring had begun. Shah Naser appeared and walked to the royal throne.

He was wearing the oldest crown in the kingdom. He had a long, bejewelled cloak draped over his shoulders and a long, golden staff clasped under his arm. It was the staff that Nader the Great had taken from India after his victory at Delhi. This was the first time the staff had been taken from the Indian treasure chest and shown in public. Everyone gazed at the shah in awe.

As king of kings he took his seat and let everyone come up to wish him the happiness of the spring season, handing out gold coins as New Year’s gifts that he took from the golden dish beside him.