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CHAPTER 41
Of all those who died during those months of hardship, why have I singled out
Baskerville? Because he was my friend and compatriot? Most probably. But also
because his only ambition was to see liberty and democracy triumph in the
rebirth of the orient, which for all that was foreign to him. Had he given his life
for nothing? In ten, twenty or a hundred years would the West remember his
example, or would Persia remember his action? I chose not to think about it lest I
fall into the inescapable melancholy of those who live between two worlds
which are equally promising and disappointing.
However if I limit myself to the events immediately after Baskerville’s death,
I can make myself believe that he did not die in vain.
Foreign intervention, the lifting of the blockade and a food convoy all
happened. Was it thanks to Howard? Perhaps the decision had already been
taken, but my friend’s death quickened the rescue effort and thousands of gaunt
townspeople owed their survival to him.
It can be imagined that the prospect of the Tsar’s soldiers arriving in the
besieged city did not thrill Fazel. I did my best to talk him into accepting the
situation.
‘The population is no longer in a state to resist. The only gift that you can
still give them is to save them from famine and you owe them that after all the
hardship they have put up with.’
‘To have fought for six months only to end up under the thumb of Tsar
Nicholas, the Shah’s protector!’
‘The Russians are not acting alone, they have the mandate of the whole
international community. Our friends throughout the world will applaud this

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operation. To resist it or to fight it would be to lose the benefit of the enormous
support which has been lavished upon us so far.’
‘But to submit and lay down our weapons now that victory is in sight!’
‘Is it me that you are talking to, or are you just inveighing against fate?’
Fazel recoiled and gave me a look of deep reproach.
‘Tabriz does not deserve to be so humiliated!’
‘I can do nothing about it, and neither can you. There are some times when
any decision is a bad one and we must choose the one we will regret least!’
He seemed to calm down and gave the matter serious thought.
‘What fate is in store for my friends?’
‘The British are guaranteeing their safety.’
‘Our weapons?’
‘Everyone will be able to keep his rifle. The houses will not be searched with
the exception of those from which there was shooting. However, heavy weapons
must be handed over.’
He did not seem in any way reassured.
‘And tomorrow who will force the Tsar to withdraw his troops?’
‘For that we have to trust Providence!’
‘Suddenly I find you extremely oriental.’
Those who knew Fazel knew that he hardly ever meant the word oriental to
be a compliment – and particularly when he had a suspicious scowl on his face. I
felt obliged to try a different tactic, so I stood up with a resounding sigh.
‘No doubt you are right. I was wrong to argue. I am going to tell the British
Consul that I have not been able to convince you. Then I shall come back and
stay with you until the end.’
Fazel took me by the shoulder to hold me back.
‘I have not accused you of anything. I have not even turned down your
suggestion.’
‘My suggestion? I have only passed on a suggestion from the English, and
made sure to tell you its provenance.’
‘Calm down and listen to me! I know very well that I do not have the means
to prevent the Russians entering Tabriz. I also know that if I offer them the
slightest resistance the whole world will condemn me, starting with my
compatriots who want now to be rescued, no matter by whom. I am even aware
of the fact that the end of the siege will constitute a defeat for the Shah.’
‘Was that not what you were fighting for?’
‘Not at all! You see, I may condemn the Shah, but it is not against him that I

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am fighting. To triumph over a despot cannot be one’s ultimate goal; I have been
fighting so that Persians might be aware of being free, being sons of Adam as we
say we are, so that they might have faith in themselves and their strength and be
able to take their place in today’s world. That is what I wanted to see come to
pass here. This city has thrown off the tutelage of the Shah and the religious
chiefs, it has defied the Powers and aroused the support and admiration of well-
intentioned men everywhere. The people of Tabriz are on the verge of winning,
but they are not allowed to. It is feared that they would set a precedent and they
must therefore be humiliated. The proud population of this city will have to bow
to the Tsar’s soldiers for bread. You who were born free in a free country, ought
to understand.’
I remained silent for a few strained seconds and then brought the matter to a
conclusion:
‘So what do you want me to reply to the English Consul?’
Fazel forced his face to smile.
‘Tell him that I will be delighted to seek asylum once again in His Majesty’s
Consulate.’
I needed some time in order to understand just how much Fazel’s bitterness
was justified, for in the short term events seemed to contradict his fears. He only
stayed a few days at the British Consulate before Mr Wratislaw drove him in his
car across the Russian lines to the outskirts of Kazvin. There he could join the
constitutionalist troops who, after a long wait, were preparing themselves to
march toward Teheran.
In fact while Tabriz was in danger of being strangled, the Shah had a
powerful means of dissuasion against his enemies and he could still manage to
frighten and contain them. Once the siege was lifted, Fazel’s friends felt free to
move and with no further delay they set off to march on to the capital which they
did with two armies, one coming from Kazvin in the north and the other from
Isfahan in the south. The latter, mostly made up of men from Bakhtiari tribes
seized Qom on 23 June. A few days later a joint Anglo-Russian communiqué
was broadcast demanding the Constitutionalists to cease their offensive
immediately in order to come to an arrangement with the Shah. If not, the two
Powers would find themselves obliged to intervene. However Fazel and his
friends turned a deaf ear and hurried on: on 9 July their troops joined up below
the walls of Teheran; on the 13th, two thousand men made their entrance into the
capital by an unguarded gate in the north-west near the French legation, watched

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with astonishment by the correspondent of the 
Temps.
Only Liakhov tried to resist. With three hundred men, some old cannons and
two Creusot machine guns he managed to keep control over several districts in
the centre of the city. Heavy fighting went on unabated until 16 July.
On that day at eight-thirty in the morning, the Shah went to take refuge in the
Russian Legation, formally accompanied by five hundred soldiers and courtiers.
His action was tantamount to an act of abdication.
The commander of the Cossacks had no choice other than to lay down his
arms. He swore henceforth to respect the Constitution and to place himself in the
service of the victors on condition that his brigade was not dissolved, which
reassurance he was duly given.
A new Shah was appointed: the youngest son of the fallen Shah, who was
just twelve years old. According to Shireen, who had known him since the
cradle, he was a gentle and sensitive adolescent, with neither cruelty nor
perversity. When he crossed the capital the day after the fighting to go to the
palace in the company of his tutor, Mr Smirnoff, he was greeted with shouts of
‘Long live the Shah!’, coming from the same people who a day earlier had been
yelling, ‘Death to the Shah!’

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