The King

62. The Law

The text of the constitution was ready. The commission had succeeded in including parts of the French constitution as well as regulations from the Quran.

During the second session of parliament the shah — in the presence of all the members — would swear that he would defend the constitution and respect the separation of powers. The shah, who had received all the documents, had thrown everything away unread and let the commission know that he agreed to all the proposed bills.

The committee concluded that the shah understood he could not stop progress. In actual fact the shah was more frenetic than ever. The Russians had not been reporting on their preparations lately so as not to endanger the operation. But the shah felt uncertain, and at the least provocation he would fly into a rage. He sometimes thought the Russians had abandoned him altogether.

Two days before the opening of parliament the shah had almost struck his daughter Taj Olsultan because she had been late in bringing her child to see him for their visit.

‘Where were you? Why did you make us wait?’ cried the shah angrily.

‘I’m sorry, Father. He’s been a bit cheeky today,’ replied Taj Olsultan.

‘No excuses. If you make us wait one more time I will have the child taken from you. You are mistaken if you think you’re already queen of the country.’

‘I offer my apologies.’

The child, who had climbed onto a chair, fell on the floor and began to cry. The shah had instinctively raised his hand to strike Taj Olsultan but immediately lowered it and left the room in embarrassment.

Late that night a messenger from Mahdolia suddenly appeared at the door. The shah thought it was just another case of pure meddlesomeness on his mother’s part and that she was fishing for attention. He received the messenger with indifference. Only when the man pressed a small, sealed leather package into the shah’s hand did his eyes light up. It was a secret Russian communication. The shah gave the messenger a coin and withdrew into his study.

The next day when he appeared at the top of the stairs he was wearing his military uniform, and his highly polished dark brown boots were gleaming in the sun.

The night before the meeting of parliament the last troops from the Russian army had been put in a state of readiness. The officer in command was a Cossack, Colonel Liakhov, who had placed camouflaged cannons at strategic locations, in consultation with Eyn ed-Dowleh (now recovered from his bullet wounds).

The sun had not yet risen when Russian soldiers mounted a surprise attack on the city. When the residents of Tehran left their homes they were confronted by an entirely new situation. The roads to the parliament building were closed off, and everyone who lived nearby was told to stay indoors until further notice. Russian soldiers blocked the square of the British embassy. One Russian soldier climbed up the telegraph pole in front of the embassy and cut the cables.

The Russians had kept their word.

Yet the shah’s dream would not be fully realised.

Two days earlier Jamal Khan had received a message via the Russian rebels in Baku that an army was headed for Tehran under the leadership of Colonel Liakhov. The only possible explanation was that the shah had enlisted their help to seize parliament.

A group of horsemen kept a lookout on the roads to Tehran. Jamal Khan warned the British embassy. Not long afterwards it was confirmed that a Russian army unit was stationed in barracks outside Tehran.

Time was short and the shah had everyone barking up the wrong tree. The committee had hastily warned the delegates to enter the parliament building at night. While Colonel Liakhov and Eyn ed-Dowleh were directing the Russian troops into Tehran, the delegates furtively slipped into the parliament building. Most of the representatives from Tehran, and those from other cities who were staying in local inns, were on time, but a group of eighteen representatives who had spent the night outside the city walls were too late. The resistance committee did everything it could to get those delegates into the building so a majority would be present.

Also missing was Ayatollah Tabatabai, parliament’s most important person. Russian soldiers were posted in front of his home to keep him from going outside. The resourceful Mirza Reza managed to mislead the Russians and steer the ayatollah across the roofs of the mosque and down the surrounding alleys to the garden of a house behind the parliament. But it was no longer possible to get the ayatollah into the parliament building from the roof of that house. Mirza Reza acted with lightning speed. He drummed up three strong men, who used pickaxes to break a hole in the wall, and the scrawny ayatollah crept through the hole and into the building. He straightened his black turban and ran into the assembly room, mud still clinging to his robes.

When the sun was high in the sky Colonel Liakhov reported to the shah. ‘The operation is a success,’ he said.

The shah raised his eyebrows.

‘But some of the delegates were already in the parliament building,’ the colonel added.

‘We are aware of that,’ said the shah coolly. He had already been given the bad news by Eyn ed-Dowleh.

‘The parliament is surrounded. No one can leave the building,’ said the colonel. ‘I do not have the mandate, but if the shah so desires, I can drive them all out.’

‘We don’t think that will be necessary,’ said the shah. ‘It’s better that the Russian soldiers do not enter the building. I will go with you later on and we will throw them all out single-handedly.’ The shah offered him a glass of tea, but the colonel declined.

‘When Your Majesty is ready, we can go.’

‘We are ready!’ answered the shah.

Vizier Mostovi Almamalek had tried to reach the shah a few times, but the shah had told him not to come round until the next day. He ordered him to stay at home.

Surrounded by his guards the shah went out on horseback. Colonel Liakhov rode on his right. To his left, mounted on a cart, was his cannon. They rode to the bazaar square and passed the British embassy in a show of force. All the doors and windows were closed, and there was no sign of anyone in the residence. The shah, who suspected that the British ambassador was spying on him, straightened his back and carried on a conversation with the Russian colonel.

When they came to the parliament building Colonel Liakhov rode up to the officer in charge of the operation, spoke with him briefly and returned to the shah.

‘The meeting has begun and the delegates are hard at work.’

‘What are they doing?’ asked the shah with surprise.

‘The officer told me that the rest of the delegates entered the building by way of the walls and the surrounding houses. The hall is quite full.’

‘What are they talking about?’

The colonel was unable to answer this question.

The shah gestured to Eyn ed-Dowleh, who was standing beside the cannon.

‘You have lost control,’ said the shah calmly so the Russian colonel would be unable to detect his rage. ‘They have outwitted us.’

Eyn ed-Dowleh tried to say something, but the shah said, ‘Shut up. Go inside and order the people to leave the building immediately. Tell them we’ll use violence if they don’t listen to us.’

Eyn ed-Dowleh did what he was told. Minutes later he rejoined the shah: ‘The chairman of the parliament said the following: “We are now in the middle of an intense discussion concerning the constitution. Later we will put the final text to the vote. If the constitution is accepted, we will swear in the supreme court judges. Then a small celebration has been planned to mark this memorable occasion, which will probably go on until the end of the afternoon. At that point, of course, we will come outside. Violence will not be necessary.”’

‘Go back and say to the chairman: “Get out! Now! Or the shah will come in and drag you out!”’

Eyn ed-Dowleh obeyed and came back almost immediately. ‘The chairman says, “The shah’s message has been duly received.”’

‘Was that all?’ asked the shah.

‘That was all,’ confirmed Eyn ed-Dowleh.

The shah gestured to Colonel Liakhov. They rode on a bit to discuss the situation privately. Then the shah turned back to Eyn ed-Dowleh and said, ‘Go back into the building and make the following announcement to everyone, loud and clear: “Either you all come out at once or the shah will personally demolish the building with his cannon.”’

Eyn ed-Dowleh bowed and carried out the order. Much later than expected he came back out.

‘Did you make the announcement?’ asked the shah.

‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ answered Eyn ed-Dowleh.

‘Why did it take so long?’

‘They were right in the middle of voting.’

‘Voting for what?’

‘The laws, Your Majesty.’

‘I’ll teach them a lesson!’

But he stayed where he was and stared straight at the door of the parliament.

Something had to happen. The shah dismounted. With his left hand behind him he walked up to his cannon, placed his hand on the barrel and stood there thinking.

‘Aim it at that window,’ said the shah to the sergeant, pointing to a stained glass window somewhere in the parliament building.

‘Ready!’ the sergeant called to his soldiers.

Three soldiers ran up and opened the back of the cart, placed two sturdy planks against it and rolled the cannon down. They moved it to the spot indicated by the sergeant and aimed the barrel at the parliament building.

The shah gave a sign.

The sergeant placed a ball in the cannon.

When everything was ready the shah took his position behind his cannon. Everyone held their breath. The Russian officers did not expect that the shah would actually do the shooting. The sergeant solemnly handed him a linstock. Colonel Liakhov nodded to the shah, who lit the fuse. Fire leapt from the barrel of the cannon with an enormous bang. The ball bored a hole in the side of the building. The ground shook; the horses whinnied and reared.

Suddenly tongues of flame issued from the building and smoke began pouring from the broken stained glass window. The shah waited, the colonel waited, the officers waited, but no one came outside. The shah stood apprehensively beside his cannon until suddenly, out of nowhere, armed men appeared on the roof of the parliament and began shooting.

Colonel Liakhov gave the shah cover and told him to hide behind the cannon cart. The Russian officers, who hadn’t counted on this kind of action, withdrew their soldiers immediately to the surrounding alleys, seeking shelter behind the walls.

Fierce fighting erupted all around the building. The armed men on the roof kept up a barrage of fire, thereby enabling the delegates to escape through the back garden.

Colonel Liakhov ordered his troops to enter the building.

Jamal Khan, who had put the approved constitutional articles for the new parliament in a leather briefcase, tried to escape by way of the roof, but he was hit by a Russian officer. Jamal Khan stumbled. The leather briefcase fell from his hand. Mirza Reza fired at the officer, ran to Jamal Khan, picked up the briefcase and escaped. The wounded Jamal Khan crept across the roof and dropped into the garden of a house behind the parliament building.

Fighting in the city continued all afternoon. It wasn’t until evening that the Russian soldiers regained control of the city centre.

Late that night Colonel Liakhov appeared before the shah to make his report: ‘The resistance has been wiped out. The parliament building is yours.’

The shah walked over to the mantelpiece, picked up a small box, handed it to Liakhov and said, ‘By way of thanks.’

The colonel was astonished by what he saw. It was an old dagger encrusted with glittering jewels.