The King

42. Resistance

After the construction work was completed, the birds recovered from the shock and began perching on the telegraph poles and cables as if they had never done anything else. It was clear from their singing that they were happy. The children were happy too. They pressed their ears against the poles and tapped them with stones to communicate with each other. It was a magical game and they never tired of it.

All the activities that in some way were related to the telegraph system seemed to give everyone renewed strength and hope. Malijak, who detested physical movement, now went everywhere shooting his pop gun at valets, servants, cooks and cats. No one dared stop him. Even Sheikh Aqasi had to watch out for Malijak when he went to see the shah. The fat boy never aimed his gun at Taj Olsultan, however. He sensed it wasn’t allowed, and Taj, moreover, had firmly drawn the line.

There was someone else from whom Malijak unquestioningly kept his distance. It was a young officer whom the shah had been summoning with quite some frequency lately. He belonged to the shah’s own tribe and bore the same surname. The officer had conducted himself with great courage in the war for Herat, which had not escaped the shah’s notice. He had given the brave officer a medal as well as the honorary title ‘Eyn ed-Dowleh’, which literally meant ‘eyes of the state’. This Eyn ed-Dowleh seemed like a most fitting husband for Taj Olsultan.

The shah was far from old, but the wise men of his tribe were pressing him to appoint a successor. Leaving the destiny of the tribe and the country to chance was not a good idea, they thought. The shah was to name his potential replacement, and to do it soon.

Given the relatively peaceful climate in the country he decided to deal with this crucial matter with dispatch. The shah presented his plan to the tribal elders and asked them what they thought of the young officer. They approved him immediately and praised the shah for his judicious choice.

The British engineers had not been standing still either. They were feeling hopeful after studying the soil samples, and they tried to keep the results of their drilling from the outside world. But their presence in the southern provinces, and especially their telegraph cables running straight through and over the tops of mosques, houses, alleys, hamams, rivers and forests, had shaken everyone to their senses.

The shah was concerned about the impact of these external influences on the common people. But behind his back the rich families and important merchants from the bazaars were still sending their sons to Moscow, London, Paris, Bombay and Istanbul. A group of these talented Persian men saw it as their patriotic duty to return and to provide guidance to their fellow countrymen. The most important man among them was Jamal Khan Astarabadi, better known as Jamal Khan. He had been in London when the first trains thundered into the city. He had visited several steel factories in Birmingham, had drunk with the workers in pubs and had attended their meetings.

Jamal Khan had been a friend of the vizier and corresponded with him when the vizier was still alive. They had met once in St Petersburg and once in Baku. It was this Jamal Khan who had obtained a copy of the French statute book for the vizier.

The death of the vizier had been painful for Jamal Khan, but it did not come as a surprise. Even when they were together in Baku he had warned the vizier that this might be his fate. They both realised that the country needed sacrifices to enable it to move forward. Jamal Khan knew how the vizier had been murdered and where he was buried.

The name of Jamal Khan was not widely known, but intellectuals in the countries of the East respected him as a political thinker. His articles on the awakening of the peoples in the Islamic countries were read abroad with great interest. He had spent several years in Egypt. Then he had moved to Turkey in order to be closer to Persia. Istanbul was a crossroads of new ideas, a place where East met West. Jamal Khan felt at home there, but recent events demanded his return to Persia.

Jamal Khan’s father had been a celebrated ayatollah in Tehran, which was why his son had such good contacts in Islamic circles. It wasn’t long before he was offered a position as a speaker in the mosque of the bazaar. Every Friday, after the imam of the mosque had finished his prayers, Jamal Khan would give a speech to the mosque attendees, most of whom were bazaar merchants.

He was a gifted speaker, and because the subjects he spoke about were not the standard fare, he was immediately seen as an asset and was received with much enthusiasm. With stories about world trade and about how western merchants earned millions upon millions with the help of the telegraph cables, without having to travel long and tiring distances, he captivated his listeners. He opened people’s eyes and became more and more daring, speaking about the corrupt princes and the country’s failing power structure. It wasn’t long before his name was known throughout Tehran. His words made the rounds, and he was invited to speak in every corner of the country.

One evening he gave a talk after prayers in the Jameh mosque in Tehran in which he attacked England: ‘People! We have been humiliated enough. If we cannot have our own national telegraph system, then the British will have to remove the telegraph poles they have put up here.’

It was an unusual message. Up until then people spoke of the telegraph system as something that was none of their business. Jamal Khan was openly expressing his dissatisfaction with having British poles on Persian soil.

‘He’s right. What good are the poles if they’re not for us?’ the people said.

‘If the cables aren’t being used by us, why must they be strung over our houses?’

When Jamal Khan came to a mosque to speak, people fought for a place. After his address long discussions would be held in the mosque courtyard: ‘What he says makes sense. There are so many sick people in this country and we have no medicine or doctors.’

‘I’ve never thought about it before, but why are there so many people out of work?’

‘If we only had modern industry here everything would be better.’

‘He’s right. We deserve a better life.’

The people close to the shah were outraged at Jamal Khan, and they issued warnings about his ulterior motives. The shah saw no reason to worry, however — at least not yet. Now that he was enjoying good relations with both England and Russia, his position on the throne was stronger than ever. Of course he made sure he was properly informed about this new speaker, and he asked the chief of the city police force to have him followed. But there was also another matter that required his attention. He had become completely caught up in the preparations for the wedding of his favourite daughter, Taj Olsultan.

It was from her mother, Foruq, that Taj Olsultan heard about the king’s choice and the plan for a quick wedding. When the shah called her in to talk about her future husband she threw herself at his feet in tears and said, ‘But Father, this man already has many other wives.’

‘So do we,’ he responded immediately. ‘We also have many wives.’

‘I know from reliable sources that he is not a good man. He is hot-tempered and he beats his wives.’

‘He will not beat you, and if he does I will have him hung.’

‘Father, I don’t love him,’ she pleaded.

‘Now you’ve gone too far,’ replied the shah sharply. ‘Stop this yammering. Those French books have deluded you with their ideas about marriage. It’s not about you. It’s about our tribe. You do it for your homeland. Be careful you don’t bring down our wrath upon your own head.’

After this reprimand from the shah a group of old, experienced women from the tribe paid a visit to Taj Olsultan to prepare her to fulfil her obligation. They managed to talk her into going to see her father to offer her apologies.

The shah kissed her on the head and said happily, ‘Now it’s time for a magnificent ashpazan.’ Ashpazan was a word that the shah himself had thought up. It meant ‘the communal preparation of a thick Persian soup’.

The shah loved soup. He always looked for a reason to organise an ashpazan. The women of the harem were happy when the shah announced that an ashpazan was in the making. They saw it as a sign that the shah was in an excellent mood, and because it was a domestic feast it also created a pleasant atmosphere in the harem for a number of weeks. Quarrels and difficulties were set aside in order to satisfy the shah’s desires.

Usually they cooked the soup for the shah and their own children, and gave the rest to the palace servants and guards. But this time the shah wanted to pull out all the stops. He wanted to share the soup with the poor of the city as a sacrifice to protect the marriage of his daughter from the Evil One.

On the day of the ashpazan the shah entered the harem early. Just outside the palace a large tent had been set up, and people of the city, all of whom had brought along bowls or pans, fought for a place. In the back garden of the harem twenty large pots had been placed over fires in two rows. The fragrance of the soup filled the air. Everyone was hard at work cleaning vegetables, slicing meat and adding just the right herbs. During the ashpazan the women laughed, danced, sang and joked with each other. The shah’s attention added to their pleasure. He complimented his wives on their beautiful jewellery and caressed them.

Taj Olsultan had put on her most festive clothing and spent most of her time with the children. Although all the women were jealous of her they knew she wasn’t happy. The shah had invited a group of female musicians to cheer her up. When the musicians entered, playing their instruments as they walked, Taj beamed. Motioning the musicians to stop, the shah turned to the women and said, ‘Ladies, soon we’re going to celebrate a great feast. Do everything that needs to be done and see that you’re beautifully dressed.’

At his sign the musicians raised their instruments once again. The shah kissed his daughter and walked with her to the pots of soup, blessing each one with a handful of fresh vegetables.

The shah sat down on his couch and was offered a glass of tea and a hookah. He put two sugar cubes in his mouth, took a sip of tea and began to smoke. A bowl of soup was handed to him. He tasted a couple of spoonfuls and let the women see how much he liked it.

In the afterglow of the tea, still a bit dizzy from the hookah and sleepy from the gentle sun, he stretched out his legs and pressed his head into the pillows, preparing to take a nap. But no sooner had he dropped off than he was jolted awake by the bang of a gun. It was Malijak, who couldn’t help disturbing the peace.

‘Oh, you little rascal!’ cried the shah, laughing.

Malijak always tried to get away with more when the shah was around. The sillier his behaviour the happier he made the shah. His main target was the women. They ran away screaming and threw sweets at him to distract him while the king roared with laughter, tears streaming down his face.

At about noon, when the shah, his wives and his children had eaten enough, the women withdrew into the harem. A group of guards brought the remaining soup out to the people. The shah watched from the roof as the crowds jostled their way forward while the guards tried in vain to get them to form a queue. In all the commotion a man in the crowd pushed one of the guards against two other guards who were holding a pot of soup. The guards lost their balance, the pot fell and all the soup spilled out.

Things got out of hand. The guards struck the people with cudgels and the people then turned on the guards, beating them over the head with pans and bowls. The big soup pots fell to the ground and suddenly flames shot up from the back of the tent. In all the chaos the head of the guards began shooting into the air. The people took to their heels and the guards chased them until peace was restored.

The shah looked down impassively at the lucky soup, which was flowing all over the ground.