For three decades, sharing nuclear technology, components and materials was a fundamental part of US foreign policy – a straight incentive for co-operation and support against the Soviet bloc. With the USSR becoming a force to be reckoned with in Asia and the Persian Gulf, the US felt keenly the need to reinforce its support for the Shah, who seemed to be the only reliable leader in the region – even though there were others who did not think the same way: one prominent Saudi warned the US ambassador to Riyadh that the Shah was ‘a megalomaniac [and] highly unstable’. If Washington did not understand this, he added, ‘there must be something wrong with [American] powers of observation’.48
Although there were some sceptics who cautioned against giving the Iranian ruler ‘everything he wants’, the extension of Soviet power in the region convinced others – notably Kissinger – that support for the Shah should be reinforced. When the latter visited Washington in the mid-1970s, therefore, the memorandum Kissinger prepared for the President drew attention to the importance of visible US support for the Shah, referring to him as ‘a man of extraordinary ability and knowledge’, though such praise glossed over the chronic levels of corruption and inefficiency being reached in Iran.49
So eager was the US to provide support for plans to destabilise neighbouring Iraq that it helped foment trouble with the Kurds. This had a tragic outcome, after a rebellion went badly wrong and heavy reprisals were taken against the Kurdish minority in the north of the country. Having encouraged revolt, the US now stood back and watched as Iran made overtures and soon reached a settlement with Iraq over long-standing territorial boundary issues, sacrificing the Kurds in the process.50 ‘Even in the context of covert action, ours was a cynical enterprise,’ concluded the Pike Committee that looked into clandestine American diplomacy in the 1970s.51 Perhaps not surprisingly, having declared that there was insufficient space in the first volume of his memoirs to discuss this event, Kissinger did not make good on his promise to deal with it in his second.52
In other respects, the Shah was also planning for the future. He realised that the oil bonanza of the early 1970s would not last for ever and that oil reserves would eventually be depleted – which would leave Iran’s own energy needs uncertain. Notwithstanding thermostats being turned down in the US, demand for oil continued to rise, leaving Iran – and other oil-rich countries – with deep pockets to prepare for the long term. Nuclear power, concluded a report specially commissioned by the Shah, was ‘the most economic source of power’ that would secure Iran’s needs. Based on the twin assumptions that oil prices would only rise and that the costs of building and maintaining nuclear power stations would reduce, developing the nuclear industry seemed an obvious step to take – especially since this prestigious project would show how modernised Iran had become.53 The Shah took personal charge, instructing Dr Akbar Etemad of the new Atomic Energy Organization of Iran to report to him directly.54
The first port of call was the Americans. In 1974, an initial agreement was reached by which the US agreed to sell two reactors, as well as enriched uranium, to Iran. The scope of the arrangement was expanded further in 1975, when a $15 billion trade deal was agreed between the two countries, which included provision for Iran to purchase eight reactors from the United States at a fixed price of $6.4 billion.55 The following year, President Ford approved a deal that allowed Iran to buy and operate a US-built system that included a reprocessing facility that could extract plutonium from nuclear reactor fuel, and therefore enable Teheran to operate a ‘nuclear fuel cycle’. President Ford’s Chief of Staff had no hesitation in approving this sale: in the 1970s, Dick Cheney did not find it difficult to ‘figure out’ what Iran’s motivations were.
The Shah’s acquisitions from the US were part of an ambitious and much wider plan that drew in technology, expertise and raw materials from other western countries. Work began on two pressurised water reactors near Bushihr on the Gulf in 1975 after contracts had been signed with West Germany’s Kraftwerk Union AG, with the latter also committing to provide an initial fuel load and reloadings as necessary for ten years. Further letters of intent were signed with Kraftwerk as well as with Brown Boveri and with Framatome of France for a further eight reactors, including terms for Iran to be supplied with enriched uranium. Stand-alone agreements were also reached for uranium to be reprocessed in France, returned to Teheran for enrichment and then either reused domestically – or resold to a third party of Iran’s choosing.56
Even though Iran was a signatory of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty of 1968, there was regular chatter in the intelligence community about the development of a clandestine nuclear weapons programme – hardly a surprise given that on occasion the Shah would declare that Iran would develop weapons capability ‘without a doubt, and sooner than one would think’.57 One CIA report written in 1974 assessing proliferation generally concluded that while Iran was at an early stage of development, it was likely that the Shah would achieve this goal in the mid-1980s – ‘if he is alive’.58
Other countries too were looking to invest in nuclear facilities with civilian uses, while at the same time developing weapons capability. In the 1970s, Iraq spent aggressively under the direction of Saddam Hussein with the specific aim of building a nuclear bomb.59 Saddam was ambitious, setting a ‘production target of six bombs a year’ according to Dr Khidir Hamza, who was placed in charge of the programme in the 1980s. Development on this scale would have given Iraq a larger arsenal than China within two decades. No expense was spared. Iraqi scientists and engineers were sent abroad in their droves for training, above all to France and Italy, while at home everything possible was done to use the civilian programme to obtain the technologies, skills and infrastructure required to create a nuclear arsenal.60
The Iraqis were determined in their approach. Having already acquired a two-megawatt research reactor from the Soviet Union that went critical in 1967, attention turned to obtaining a gas graphite reactor and a reprocessing facility for the plutonium that would be produced as a result. When requests to France were rebuffed, feelers went out to Canada in the hope of buying a reactor similar to the one that had enabled India to test a nuclear device in 1974. This prompted the French to recommence negotiations, resulting in an agreement to build an Osiris research reactor and a smaller research reactor, both of which would be powered by weapons-grade uranium. Further materials essential for dual use were bought from Italy, including hot cells as well as a separation and handling facility capable of extracting plutonium from irradiated uranium, with a capacity of producing eight kilograms a year.61
Few had doubts that there was more to this than met the eye and that energy was not the only motivation. The Israelis in particular monitored developments with considerable concern, gathering detailed intelligence about the militarisation of their neighbours – focusing on the Tammuz facility near Baghdad at al-Tuwaitha, better known as the Osirak plant. Israel also invested heavily in its own nuclear weapons programme, as well as in a missile system modified from French designs that could deliver warheads with a range of just over 200 miles.62 By the time of the Yom Kippur War of 1973, it was thought that Israel had built up an arsenal of thirteen nuclear devices.63
The west turned a blind eye as and when needed. In Iraq, for example, the British concluded in the early 1970s that ‘although repressive and singularly unattractive, the present Government seems to be well in control’. It was a regime that was stable and, as such, one the British could do business with.64 Likewise, Pakistan’s activity – building facilities deep underground in the 1970s to enable covert testing and ultimately a successful detonation – went unchecked. Five horizontal tunnels were dug deep into a mountain in the Ras Koh range in Balochistan, each designed to withstand a twenty-kiloton detonation.65 As Pakistani scientists noted ruefully, ‘the Western world was sure that an underdeveloped country like Pakistan could never master this technology’, and yet at the same time western countries made ‘hectic and persistent efforts to sell everythi
ng to us . . . they literally begged us to buy their equipment’.66 As it was, it was not hard to see how stern talk about proliferation from countries like the US, Britain and France, which refused to be subject to the inspections and rules of the International Atomic Energy Agency, grated with those that did and had to conduct their research in secret; but the real hypocrisy, in the cold light of day, lay in the enthusiasm with which the developed world rushed to earn hard cash or gain access to cheap oil.
There were half-hearted attempts to curtail the spread of nuclear materials. In 1976, Kissinger suggested that Pakistan should wind down its reprocessing project and rely instead on a US-supplied facility being built in Iran that was part of a scheme devised by none other than Dick Cheney, for the plant in Iran to serve as a hub for energy needs across the region. When the President of Pakistan turned down this offer, the US threatened to cut off the country’s aid package.67
Even Kissinger began to reconsider the wisdom of enabling foreign governments to have access to the technologies and designs underpinning nuclear power. ‘I am frankly getting tired of the Iran deal [to build nuclear reactors],’ he said at a State Department meeting in 1976, despite the central role he had played in brokering it. ‘I have endorsed it, but in any region you look at, it is a fraud . . . we are the only country which is fanatical and unrealistic enough to do things which are contrary to our national interests.’68
Sentiments like these hinted at a growing sense in Washington that the US was boxed in and was faced with limited options. This was articulated clearly by members of the National Security Council in the late 1970s, who later stated that ‘The United States had no visible strategic alternative to the close relationship with Iran,’ having burnt policy bridges elsewhere.69 Although criticism of the Shah’s regime, and particularly the brutal methods of the Savak, rose in the western media, the US government continued to give loud and consistent support. President Carter flew in to Teheran on New Year’s Eve in 1977 and was guest of honour at a dinner to mark the end of the year. ‘Iran’, said the President, ‘is an island of stability in one of the more troubled areas of the world.’ This was because of the ‘great leadership of the Shah’. The success of the country owed much to ‘Your Majesty and your leadership and to the respect and admiration and the love which your people give you’.70
This was not so much rose-tinted glasses as a denial of reality, for storm clouds were gathering and plain for all to see. In Iran, demographic growth, rapid urbanisation and lavish overspending by a repressive regime produced a toxic cocktail. Endemic corruption did not help – with hundreds of millions of dollars taken in ‘commission’ by the royal family and those close to the ruling regime, just for each reactor.71 By the late 1970s, the situation in Teheran was poisonous as crowds took to the streets in growing numbers to protest about the lack of social justice – and about the rising cost of living on the back of plunging oil prices as global supplies began to exceed demand.
Growing dissent played into the hands of Ayatollah Khomeini, by now exiled in Paris after being removed from Iraq as part of the deal struck with the Shah in 1975. Khomeini – whose elder son was probably murdered by the Savak in 1977 – seized control of the situation, providing a vision that at once diagnosed the ills in Iran and promised to cure them. He was a brilliant communicator, able to capture the mood just as Mossadegh had done three decades earlier. In a move that appealed to left-wing revolutionaries, Islamic hardliners and almost all those who were outside the golden loop of gilded rewards, Khomeini declared that the time had come for the Shah to step aside. The beneficiaries of good leadership should be the Iranian public and Islam – and not the Shah.
To allay fears that Iran would become a religious state, Khomeini promised that clerics, preachers and zealots would not rule the country directly, but would provide guidance. He set out four tenets that underpinned the future: the use of Islamic law; the eradication of corruption; the striking out of unjust laws; and the end of foreign intervention in Iran’s affairs. It was not a catchy manifesto – but it was an effective one that spoke to multiple constituencies and encapsulated the problems and difficulties not only of Iran but of the Islamic world as a whole. The argument that wealth was being diverted into the hands of the few at the expense of the many was not just powerful but incontrovertible. In the 1970s, more than 40 per cent of the country’s population were undernourished, according to World Health Organisation targets; inequality was rife, with the rich getting richer, and the position of the poor showing little improvement, if any.72 It was up to the Iranian people to demonstrate, Khomeini declared; appeal to the soldiers ‘even if they fire on you and kill you’; let tens of thousands of die. But show ‘that blood is more powerful than the sword’.73
As the situation became more and more tense, the Shah – on whom so much hope had been pinned by the United States – went to Teheran airport, where he gave a brief statement to say ‘I am feeling tired and need a rest,’ before flying out of the country for the last time.74 Whether he could have prevented what happened next is a matter of speculation. What is clearer is how some European leaders reacted to the situation. In what President Carter called ‘one of the worst days of my diplomatic life’, Chancellor Schmidt became ‘personally abusive’ during discussions about the Middle East, alleging that ‘American interference in [this region] . . . had caused problems with oil all over the world.’75
The US had pursued a policy of complete denial and read the runes far too late. At the start of 1979, Washington sent General Robert Huyser, commander-in-chief of US European command, to Teheran to demonstrate American support for the Shah and specifically to impress on the army that the US continued to back the regime. It did not take Huyser long to realise that the writing was on the wall – and that his life was potentially in danger. He saw enough to realise that the days of the Shah were over, and that Khomeini was unstoppable.76
American policy lay in tatters. Time, effort and resources had been poured into Iran as well as into neighbouring countries since the Second World War. Leaders had been courted and indulged, while those who refused to play along had been deposed or replaced. The methods used to control the interlocking parts of Asia had failed spectacularly. The western nations, to quote Sir Anthony Parsons, British ambassador to Teheran at the time, ‘were looking down the right telescope . . . but [we were] focused at the wrong target’.77 Worse, anti-American rhetoric now united almost all the countries of this region. Syria and Iraq looked towards the USSR; India was closer to Moscow than it was to Washington, while Pakistan was willing to take US support as and when it suited. Iran was a crucial piece in the puzzle, and now it too looked in danger of falling. It seemed like the end of an era, as Khomeini noted in a speech late in 1979: ‘All the problems of the east stem from those foreigners from the west, and from America at the moment,’ he said. ‘All our problems come from America.’78
The fall of the Shah prompted panic in Washington – and hope in Moscow. The collapse of Iran seemed to be a turning point that offered opportunities. It was almost comical how badly the west had misjudged the situation not only in Iran but elsewhere too – such as in Afghanistan, where the US embassy in Kabul reported in 1978 that relations were excellent.79 Indeed, to optimistic American eyes, Afghanistan looked like a major success story, just as Iran had done: the number of schools had multiplied ten-fold since 1950, with many more students turning to technical disciplines like medicine, law and science; women’s education also blossomed, as the number of girls passing through primary education rose sharply. Rumours circulated that President Dāwud, who had seized power in 1973, had been recruited by the CIA and that the progressive agendas he pursued were ideas planted by the Americans. Although the gossip was not true, the fact that it required investigation by diplomats in Washington and in Moscow shows just how intense were the pressures for the two superpowers to compete – and to play the latest version of the Great Game in Asia.80
How things settled down after a short
period of turbulence was now crucial. To all intents and purposes, it looked as though the United States was badly out of position. The bet it had placed on the Shah and on Iran looked lost; there were others across the old Silk Roads that were open to offers. With Iran going through revolution and Iraq seemingly wedded to a Soviet suitor, the US had to think carefully what its next move might be. It proved to be a disaster.
24
The Road to Catastrophe
The revolution in Iran brought the American house of cards across the region as a whole tumbling down. The signs pointing to instability had been there for some time. The corruption of the Shah’s regime, combined with economic stagnation, political paralysis and police brutality made for a poisonous combination – one that played into the hands of outspoken critics whose promises of reform fell on fertile ground.
Those who were worried about how things were moving in Iran were all the more jittery because of the signs that the USSR was actively plotting to take advantage of the situation. Soviet activity continued even after the KGB had lost its main asset in Iran, General Ahmad Mogharebi, regarded by Moscow as ‘Russia’s best agent’ with contacts across all sections of the elite in Iran. He was arrested in September 1977 by the Savak, which had become suspicious of his regular meetings with his KGB handlers.1 This served to spur an intensification of activity by the Soviets.
There was speculation that unusually large volumes of trading in Iranian rials on the Swiss currency markets in early 1978 were the result of Soviet agents being ordered to finance supporters in Iran; the noticeably high quality of Navid, the newsletter distributed by the left-wing Tudeh party, convinced some that it was being printed not just with Soviet help, but in the Soviet embassy in Teheran. New camps set up outside the country to train Iranian dissidents (among others) in guerrilla warfare and Marxist doctrine were an ominous sign that Moscow was preparing to fill any void in the event of the fall of the Shah.2 This was part of a wider engagement with a region that seemed about to go through a period of change. Additional support was therefore also given to President Assad in Syria, even though the KGB considered him ‘a petit-bourgeois chauvinist egomaniac’.3
The Silk Roads: A New History of the World Page 57