by Abbas Milani
In these efforts, Reza Shah and soon afterwards his son were making the same mistake as other Iranian politicians before and after them. They all overlooked the vast and complicated web of U.S. relations with an ally like the British; Iranian leaders wrongly assumed that America would jeopardize these relations simply for the promise, or even the reality, of a bigger piece of the Iranian market. Not only did the United States decide against the sale of American bombers to Iran, but after pressure from the British, who feared the “planes might be utilized against the British forces”—arguments incidentally that the U.S. officials found cynical and self-serving—54 the proposal for the construction of a plant was also rejected. Reza Shah probably did not know when he wrote his urgent plea that Roosevelt had been consulted on every stage of the planned Soviet–British invasion of Iran. A full week before Reza Shah learned of the Soviet–British occupation of Iran, Roosevelt had received a copy of the letter and had been fully briefed about the exact timetable for the invasion. The British did not want Reza Shah to find comfort in the hope that the United States would come to his aid. After successfully blocking the sale of American airplanes to Iran, Churchill suggested that the U.S. government ask its representative in Iran to accompany the Russian and British ambassadors when they delivered their declaration of war, or at least find ways to inform the Iranian government that America supported “the British and Russian point of view” and considered the steps they were taking right and necessary and, finally, believed that “Iran should meet”55 the demands made by these two countries.
Roosevelt rejected both ideas, and his decision in this case, and on a number of other issues, was a blow to British plans. There was considerable tension between Sir Reader Bullard, with his haughty colonial manners, and the humane disposition of the American ambassador, Louis Dreyfus, a preacher turned diplomat who despised some of the bare-knuckle tactics of his British counterpart. Bullard concluded that the United States and Britain did not share the same goals in Iran.56 These were only the first hints of the reality that, behind the rhetoric of the Atlantic Charter and the amity between the United States and Britain, there were, from 1940, serious tensions and at times intense rivalries for power and influence between the two countries over Iran. The British frustration with the United States was poignantly captured by Sir Alexander Cadogan, Britain’s permanent under-secretary at the Foreign Ministry during the war, when he wrote, “Americans becoming impossible at all points. Americans are lecturing us now on Persian [affairs], about which they know nothing. I urge that we should put our foot down. It will only be more difficult and dangerous later.”57
In spite of any misgiving Roosevelt might have had about the British policy, he decided to take a long time to answer Reza Shah’s urgent plea. He clearly did not want to give him any false hopes. The meaningful delay dismayed many of Iran’s pro-American liberals who had hoped to use American goodwill to rid Iran of British and Russian influence.58
In his belated response, FDR assured Reza Shah that he had “been following the course of events in Iran with close attention.” In an obvious but biting reference to the allegations of Reza Shah’s pro-Nazi sympathies, Roosevelt suggested that the situation in Iran must be viewed “in full perspectives of the world event,” and in light of “considerations arising from Hitler’s ambition for world conquest.” The last few lines of FDR’s otherwise vapid reply turned out to have historic significance, particularly in the months after the end of hostilities in the Second World War. Roosevelt informed Reza Shah that he had received assurances from the British and Soviet governments that “they have no designs on the independence and territorial integrity of Iran.”59
But on the day of the Soviet-British invasion, when Reza Shah wrote his urgent plea, the question of postwar Soviet plans was eclipsed by the grim realities of the hour. As news of the Allied invasion reached the Court, Reza Shah panicked, and the entire edifice of power in Iran began to crumble into near anarchy. The microcosm of the royal family mirrored developments in the social macrocosm. The institutions Reza Shah had willed into existence in Iran, no less than the marriages he had forcefully arranged for his children, all began to collapse.
By then, the marriages of his two daughters were already nothing but a charade. Each princess was involved with secret paramours. The Crown Prince’s own marriage was made rocky by his continuous and increasingly open philandering. Stories of his affairs were the favorite gossip of high society and a tool of subversion in the hands of the opposition. Often, the Crown Prince was seen driving around the city in one of his favorite convertible cars. Whispers about his love for a beautiful young girl named Firuzeh were common knowledge.* His wife, Princess Fawzia, also suffered from the adversarial relationships that had developed between her and the Crown Prince’s aggressively domineering and possessive mother and at least one of his sisters. Fawzia herself was timid and shy and felt lonely and under siege. All the “Egyptian servants” who had come with her to Iran were dismissed and even the “Egyptian ambassador and his family,” who were her relatives and had been assigned to Tehran primarily to keep her happy, “were seldom permitted to see HIM, the Crown Princess Fawzia.”60
By the second day of the invasion, British and Soviet planes, with the latter’s unmistakable red star shining on some of their wings, continued to attack the capital and other big cities. Though the casualties were minimal—in Tehran, for example, only two people were reported killed by the attacks—the continued bombardment of open cities brought fear and terror to the defenseless citizens of the country. Soviet planes appeared on Tehran’s horizon, then flew overhead to drop leaflets, warning the citizens of an impending attack. The much-vaunted, much-feared Iranian military collapsed in panic around the country. So much of Reza Shah’s time and energy and so much of the country’s budget had been spent on building this army that the embarrassing rapidity of the collapse left a permanent mark on the mind of the young Crown Prince. Never again, he would often vow later, would the Iranian army be so defenseless in the face of adversity. During his own reign, he used this argument to legitimize his increasingly ambitious plans to expand and modernize the Iranian army.
In 1941, however, before the end of the second day, the army’s top brass met to discuss surrender. When Reza Shah learned of his generals’ temerity in convening such a meeting in his absence, and of their decision to decree the summary surrender of the military, he beckoned General Ahmad Nakhjavan, the top army commander and the ostensible minister of war, to the Court. In a now famous confrontation, Reza Shah used profanity-laced language to belittle the petrified general, beat the man with a stick, tore off his stars, and finally grabbed the hapless general’s pistol and seemed bent on executing him on the spot. The Crown Prince was a silent observer of the spectacle. As his father’s now-constant companion, the two men consulted on virtually every decision.61 In fact, according to Nakhjavan, he and the other generals made their decision to surrender only after they called the Crown Prince and received his blessing.62 On the day the General was pistol-whipped, the Crown Prince finally convinced his father that the General’s life should be spared and that, instead of instant execution, he should be sent to prison to face court-martial. He did not volunteer the fact that the frightened general apparently had consulted him before the meeting.
The Crown Prince also played a crucial role in other key decisions in the first forty-eight hours after the invasion. By the time Fereydoon Jam, Reza Shah’s son-in-law, arrived at the palace, the scene was, even to him, unfathomable. As he drove through the city, he had seen disbanded army units aimlessly wandering about and soldiers and officers, sometimes in civilian clothes, sometimes wearing portions of their discarded uniforms, roaming nervously through the streets. Many of the solders were barefoot. Soon the city was abuzz with rumors of generals fleeing covered under women’s veils. In the macho culture of the time, fleeing the scene of a fight, let alone doing so dressed as women, was as debilitating as any allegation. Another rumor repor
ted an imminent attack on Reza Shah’s palace by disgruntled officers of Iran’s fledgling air force. Jam had witnessed the utter chaos at the army headquarters, and he had been an eyewitness to the anxious and frightened looks on people’s faces as they scrambled through the half-closed shops for the last supplies of food and water. Tehran had no running water in those days and, depending on their social rank, people had to find water to drink, water to irrigate their yards, water to fill their pools or ponds, and water to take baths. A rumor had spread throughout the city that the Red Army was about to enter and occupy Tehran, and that once there, they would go door to door, executing any member of the Iranian military.
In anxious anticipation, many in the military made bonfires in their homes and burned any uniforms, insignias, or other indications of their military connection.63 Even after witnessing these apocalyptic images of the collapse of a once-disciplined army, and the chaos in a once-regimented city, the young Jam was ill-prepared for what he saw at the Court—which had been, only a few hours earlier, the intimidating seat of power and majesty in the capital.
Reza Shah was in the palace, pacing alone in the abandoned gardens. Even the military guards of the Court had abandoned their posts. Members of the royal family, including the Crown Prince, had taken refuge in the Sa’ad Abad Palace compound. The Queen Mother was inconsolable over the disappearance of Najmeh Naneh, her favorite servant and companion. The arrival of Jam, armed with a pistol and a rifle, brought a semblance of comfort to the frightened royal family.64
By late that evening, it was decided that most of the royal family—particularly the women and children—should leave the capital under the cover of night and head for Isfahan, a city still not occupied by either the British or Russian forces. Reza Shah and the Crown Prince would remain in Tehran and attend to the business of the beleaguered state. Jam, with his pistol and rifle, was asked to drive the lead car, with Princess Ashraf and Crown Princess Fawzia sitting in the front seat of Jam’s Buick. The Queen Mother, her daughter Shams, and a servant were in the back. A second car carried Shahnaz and her nurse as well as Shahram—Ashraf’s new-born son—and his attendant. Before long, the Crown Prince’s friend Hussein Fardust joined the royal sojourners. He spent the first night awake, holding guard. After a couple of days he was recalled to Tehran, where he would be the Crown Prince’s most trusted lieutenant. There was, according to Jam, no guarantee that the traveling members of the royal family would come to no harm should they run into one of the gangs roaming the city streets and country roads.65 Lucky for them, their nocturnal journey ended without incident. By the next day, they were in the relative safety of Isfahan.
For Reza Shah and the Crown Prince, the invasion and the departure of their families from Tehran was not the only bad news of the day. On the night after the invasion, the BBC began a series of programs attacking Reza Shah for his despotism, his breach of the constitution, and the millions and millions of dollars he had allegedly stashed away in banks, domestic and foreign. It was a “seven days weekly Persian Program” to expedite “the recommendations of the Embassy in Tehran,” particularly in criticizing Reza Shah.66
The country was mesmerized by these nightly programs. In Tehran, streets emptied as the hour of the nightly broadcast neared. They were a potent brew of gossip and politics, facts and fictions, and real news and fantastic rumors. The Persians, who had long believed in the omnipotence of the “British hand,” and had always assumed the BBC to be nothing but a handmaiden of British power and the voice of empire, construed the broadcasts as a clear indication that Reza Shah’s days were now numbered. By then German radio, launched in conjunction with the Nazis’ vast propaganda in Iran, had suddenly changed its tune. Until then the radio had been full of profuse praise for Reza Shah for standing up to British and Bolshevik bullying tactics. But now, as Iran began to throw out German citizens, Nazi radio began to attack Reza Shah. In their programs, the towering voice of Bahram Shahrokh had come to embody the Nazis’ aggressive foreign policy.
A few days after the commencement of the BBC attacks, Reza Shah tried to save his throne by sacking Mansur, the incompetent Anglophile prime minister, and replacing him with Zoka al-Mulk Foroughi, an esteemed elder statesman, assumed by Reza Shah to be close to the British. The British Embassy clearly understood the meaning of the new gesture and reported to the Foreign Office that the Foroughi appointment was “intended to conciliate us.” To Bullard, it was clear that with the appointment Reza Shah also hoped to enlist “British support against the Russians,” and warned that these developments must be most carefully watched.67
Changing the prime minister was not Reza Shah’s only conciliatory move. On September 7, he summoned the American ambassador, Dreyfus, to the Court, ostensibly to thank President Roosevelt for the belated response to his urgent message. In reality, Reza Shah wanted to solicit the assistance of the American government in his effort to retain his throne. He told the Ambassador “that he has no sympathy for the Germans,” and that “he wanted the British to know his views, and had no objection to bringing the above to the British Minister’s attention.”68
As requested, the American Ambassador conveyed the message to the British representatives in Tehran. The initial response was not unfavorable. “If [Reza] Shah is willing to cooperate fully with the British and correct some of his more serious shortcomings,” the British Ambassador said, “I believe he may still be able to save his throne.”69 As late as September 3, Churchill declared that “at the present time we have not turned against the Shah,” but unless he can give “loyal and fateful help and show all proper alacrity” his “misgovernment of his people will be brought into account.”70 Churchill’s note, as well as numerous other documents from the British archives, shows that when the British attacked Iran, they still did not have a clear and definitive plan to end Reza Shah’s rule, or a clear idea about what or who should succeed him. The Persian habit of affording the British hand omnipotence begot the assumption that the BBC attacks were but a first step in an already clearly laid out plan of action, including ending Reza Shah’s rule.
A few days after meeting with the American Ambassador, Reza Shah sent Zoka al-Mulk Foroughi, the new prime minister, and Mohammad Saed, the seasoned politician, to the British Embassy to ask “what the broadcasts in Persian meant, and whether they could not be stopped.” Clearly Reza Shah had sent the emissaries to try and convince the British to stop the incendiary broadcasts. But instead of pleading Reza Shah’s case, his emissaries seemed bent on encouraging the British to get rid of him. Foroughi, who had been forced into early retirement by Reza Shah and had seen his son-in-law sent to the firing squad by Reza Shah, now had the King’s fate in his hands. It is hard to know his motive, but from the outset, he and Saed made it clear to the British Ambassador that “they had been merely acting as a mouthpiece.” More crucially, Foroughi added that “the Shah can be persuaded to abdicate.” He also made it clear that Persians like him would not “take any action” to force the abdication of Reza Shah unless they knew “it will not be contrary to the wishes” of Britain. The word within the word of Foroughi’s response was clear: people want to be rid of Reza Shah but they won’t dare to move unless the British government moves. The Ambassador assured Foroughi that “if they concluded that the Shah must go, His Majesty’s government would not interfere.” Could Reza Shah have remained on the throne if Foroughi and Saed had simply conveyed in earnest the message they were sent to deliver? Would the British government have acted differently if it had not heard the complaints of two key Iranian politicians? Surely these are the kinds of historical questions that make for good parlor games but are indeed impossible to answer. But one thing does seem certain: without the cooperation and advice of Iranians like Foroughi, the British and the Soviets could never have carried out their plans.
Once Foroughi and Saed were assured that forcing Reza Shah to abdicate was not contrary to Britain’s plans, the question of succession was discussed. Both emissaries made it c
lear that in their view, “the Crown Prince was the best candidate.” The British Ambassador was not easily convinced, venturing to say that the Crown Prince had become “obnoxious to His Majesty’s government” and that the Soviet government was also “unfavorably inclined” toward him.71 To their credit, Foroughi and Saed stood their ground and insisted on the wisdom of the Crown Prince’s replacing his father.
As to the issue of the BBC attacks on Reza Shah, the embassy of course repeated, as was its wont, that the BBC was altogether independent from the British government. In fact, during those months, directions for the programs critical of Reza Shah and suggestions on their content were sent from the embassy in Iran. Even before these attacks began, the British government had decided to retool its propaganda in Iran. The embassy had criticized the fact that “the Persian news broadcasts contain occasional complimentary references to the [Reza] Shah and his modernizing policy.” Such references, it declared, “should easily be omitted.”72