Samarkand pdfdrive com

CHAPTER 44
Two men were waiting for me at the legation, with the same suppressed
impatience. Russel, in a grey suit, a moiré bow-tie and with a drooping
moustache like Theodore Roosevelt’s but more carefully shaped; and Fazel, in
his undeviating white tunic, black cape and blue turban. Naturally it was the
diplomat who opened the session in hesitant but correct French.
‘The meeting taking place today is one of those that change the course of
history. In our persons, two nations are meeting, defying distances and
differences: the United States, which is a young nation but already an old
democracy, and Persia which is an old nation, several thousand years old, but a
brand-new democracy.’
He said all this with a touch of mystery, a whiff of formality and a glance
toward Fazel to make sure that his words were not upsetting him. He continued:
‘Some days ago I was a guest of the Democratic Club of Teheran. I expressed
to my audience the great sympathy which I feel for the Constitutional
Revolution. This feeling is shared by President Taft and Mr Knox, our Secretary
of State. I must add that the latter is aware of our meeting today and he is
waiting for me to apprise him, by telegraph, of the conclusions which we reach.’
He left it to Fazel to explain to me:
‘Do you remember the day when you tried to convince me not to resist the
Tsar’s troups?’
‘What a job that was!’
‘I have never held it against you. You did what you had to do and in one
sense you were correct. However, what I feared has unfortunately not died away.
The Russians still have not left Tabriz, and the populace is subjected to daily

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torments. The Cossacks snatch the veils off women in the street, and sons of
Adam are imprisoned upon the least pretext.
‘Yet there is something more serious. More serious than the occupation of
Tabriz and more serious than the fate of my companions. It is our democracy
that is at risk of floundering. When Mr Russel said “young”, he should have
added “fragile” and “under threat”. To all appearances everything is going well,
the people are happier, the bazaar is is prospering and the religious appear to be
conciliatory. However, it would need a miracle to stop the edifice from
crumbling. Why? Because our coffers are empty, as in the past. The old régime
had a very strange way of collecting taxes. It farmed each province out to some
money-grubber who bled the population and kept the money for himself,
deducting a small part to buy the Court’s protection. That is what has caused all
our difficulties. As the Treasury was bare, they borrowed from the Russians and
the English, who, in order to be reimbursed, obtained concessions and privileges.
That is how the Tsar became involved in our affairs and how we sold off all our
wealth. The new government finds itself with the same dilemma as the old
leaders: if it cannot manage to collect taxes the way modern countries do, it will
have to accept the tutelage of the Powers. Our most urgent priority is to get our
finances into order. The modernization of Persia will follow on from that: such is
the cost of Persia’s freedom.’
‘If the remedy is so obvious, why the delay in implementing it?’
‘There is no Persian today who is up to undertaking such a task. It is sad to
say, for a nation of ten million, but the weight of ignorance should not be
underestimated. Only a handful of us here have received a modern education
similar to that of the top-ranking civil servants in the advanced nations. The only
area in which we have numerous competent people is the field of diplomacy. As
for the rest, by which I mean the army, communications and above all finance,
there is nothing. If our régime can last twenty or thirty years, doubtless it will
produce a generation capable of looking after all these sectors but while we wait,
the best solution available to us is to call upon honest and competent foreigners
for help. It is not easy to find them, I know. In the past, we have had the worst
experiences with Naus, Liakhov and many others, but I do not despair. I have
spoken on this subject with some of my colleagues in Parliament and the
government, and we think that the United States might help.
‘I am flattered,’ I said spontaneously, ‘but why my country?’
Charles Russel reacted to my remark with a movement of surprise and worry.
Fazel’s response quickly calmed him down.

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‘We have reviewed all the Powers, one by one. The Russians and the British
are only too happy to push us towards bankruptcy so they can have more control
over us. The French are too preoccupied with their relations with the Tsar to be
worried about our fate. On a more general level, the whole of Europe is beset by
a game of alliances and counter-alliances in which Persia is only small change –
a pawn on the chequer-board. Only the United States could take an interest
without trying to invade us. I therefore turned to Mr Russel and asked him if he
knew an American capable of taking on such a heavy task. I must acknowledge
that it is he who mentioned your name. I had completely forgotten that you had
studied finance.’
‘I am flattered by your faith,’ I replied, ‘but I am certainly not the man you
need. In spite of my degree, I have only middling skill in finance and I have
never had the opportunity to put my knowledge to the test. It is my father who is
to blame, since he built so many ships that I have not had to work. I have only
ever busied myself with the essential – that is to say, the futile: travelling and
reading, loving and believing, doubting and fighting, and sometimes writing.’
There were embarrassed laughs and an exchange of perplexed looks. I carried
on:
‘When you find your man, I can be at his side, give him unlimited advice and
provide him with small services, but it is from him that you must demand
competence and hard work. I am brimming over with good will but I am
ignorant and lazy.’
Fazel chose not to insist, but replied to me in the same tone:
‘It is true, I can testify to it. But you also have other faults which are even
greater. You are my friend as the whole world knows, and my political
adversaries would have only one aim: to stop you succeeding.’
Russel listened in silence with a rigid smile on his face, as if he had been left
out. Our banter was certainly not to his taste, but he did not lose his composure.
Fazel turned to him:
‘I am sorry about Benjamin’s defection, but it does not change anything as
far as we are concerned. Perhaps it is better to entrust this type of responsibility
to a man who has never been mixed up in Persian affairs, neither from near nor
afar.’
‘Are you thinking of someone in particular?’
‘I have no one’s name in mind. I would like him to be someone rigorous,
honest and with an independent spirit. There are some of that race amongst you,
I know. I can see the person clearly and can almost tell you that I can see him

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before me; an elegant, neat man who holds himself upright and looks straight
ahead, and who speaks to the point. A man like Baskerville.’
The message of the Persian government to its legation in Washington on 25
December, 1910, a Sunday and Christmas Day, was cabled in these terms:
‘Request the Secretary of State immediately to put you in contact with
the American financial authorities with a view to engaging a disinterested
American expert for the post of Treasurer General on the basis of a
preliminary contract for three years, subject to ratification by the
Parliament. He will be charged with reorganizing the state’s resources and
the collection of revenues and their disbursement with the help of an
independent auditor who will supervise tax collection in the provinces.
‘The Minister of the United States in Teheran informs us that the
Secretary of State is in agreement. Contact him directly and avoid using
intermediaries. Transmit the whole text of this message to him and act
according to the suggestions he makes to you.’
On the following 2 February, the Majlis approved the nomination of the
American experts with an overwhelming majority and to thunderous applause.
A few days later, the Minister of Finance, who had presented the plan to the
deputies, was assassinated in broad daylight by two Georgians. That very
evening, the dragoman of the Russian Legation went to the Persian Ministry of
Foreign Affairs to demand that the murderers, subjects of the Tsar, be handed
over to him with no further ado. In Teheran everyone knew that this act was St
Petersburg’s response to the vote in Parliament, but the authorities preferred to
give in so as not to poison their relations with their powerful neighbour. The
assassins therefore were led off to the legation and thence to the border; once
over it they were free.
In protest, the bazaar closed its doors, ‘sons of Adam’ called for a boycott of
Russian goods and there were even reports of acts of vengeance against the
numerous Georgian nationals, the Gordji, in the country. However the
government, backed up by the press, preached patience; the real reforms were
going to begin, they said, experts were going to arrive and soon the State’s
coffers would be full, they would pay off their debts and throw off all tutelage,
they would have schools and hospitals as well as a modern army – which would
force the Tsar to leave Tabriz and stop him threatening them.

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Persia was waiting for miracles, and, in fact, miracles were going to come to
pass.

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