The Saudi-Iranian War

by Ted Halstead

  “Just one question before I let you get to your report, Captain. How long would it take you and your men to pack the howitzers used in today’s exercises for transport?”

  Dabiri’s eyebrows flew upwards and he hesitated, which surprised Bijan, who had expected a quick answer. The reason quickly became evident, though.

  “It depends on whether you want these particular howitzers, sir. We actually have twenty new HM-41s still in their original crates we could move anytime, along with a full supply of Basir rounds to go with them. I’d rather use the howitzers from today’s exercise, though, since we’ve used them multiple times and know they have no issues. We could have them ready to go inside a week, or five days if we drop everything else we’re doing.”

  Bijan smiled. “I think a week will be fine. I suggest you assemble and test another ten HM-41s while I clear your orders, and then crate them back up for movement. I’m glad to hear you have spares in case there are any issues discovered with those ten. Expect your new orders within a week to ten days.”

  Bijan climbed aboard the Agusta-Bell 212 helicopter that had brought him from his office in Qom to the exercise area for the return trip. He would have the report Grand Ayatollah Reza Fagheh expected. Bijan also planned to add some questions, now that this operation appeared more and more likely to actually be possible.

  Assembly of Experts Secretariat, Qom, Iran

  Grand Ayatollah Reza Fagheh scowled as he read another report on the damage American sanctions were doing to the Iranian economy. Of course, he mused, a much longer report could be written on the problems caused by corruption, price controls, subsidies and a long list of other government interventions.

  Not to mention that about sixty percent of Iran’s economy was centrally planned. Reza smiled grimly as he thought about one comment he had heard about on social media that the proportion of Iran’s economy controlled by the government was greater than China’s. This had set off a lively debate about whether anyone could really know who controlled what in China, and how its control of the economy explained why Iran’s clergy was so resistant to change.

  Of course, the author of the most perceptive comments quickly found himself in Tehran’s Evin Prison. Reza made a mental note to check whether he was still alive, and if he was to put him out of his misery.

  Reza smiled again as he thought about the religious foundations called Bonyad, which represented more than thirty percent of Iranian government spending. He effectively controlled one of those Bonyads, though his name appeared on none of its documents. Yes, the poor fellow in Evin Prison had no idea how right he was.

  Not that Reza planned to change anything about how Iran’s economy was managed. Though he was aware of the role that both the clergy and the government played in Iran’s economic problems, fixing them was impossible without the clergy ceding its control of Iran’s government. On the contrary, Reza wanted that control tightened.

  Reza only cared about the performance of Iran’s economy at all because its failure had begun to cause demonstrations that were too large to ignore or easily suppress. He had been part of the demonstrations that had brought down the Shah, and knew first hand that the effectiveness of violent repression had a limit.

  The effectiveness of blaming all of Iran’s economic problems on American sanctions also had a limit, as the size of the recent demonstrations showed.

  Reza had ordered the report to see if there was anything new the government could use to point the finger at the Americans again, but now that he’d read it had seen nothing likely to help.

  People were fed up. With its oil and gas reserves Iran had the fifth largest total value of natural resources in the world, worth an estimated twenty-seven trillion US dollars. This was not a secret to anyone.

  And yet, a study by the International Monetary Fund in 2016 detailing what Iran’s citizens could buy in their country ranked it… 67th.

  Many were starting to ask dangerous questions about the clergy’s share of the country’s wealth. Others were starting to ask about the money being spent on Iran’s interventions in Yemen, Syria, and Lebanon — and whether spending the money at home instead might help stop the seemingly endless sanctions.

  Reza was determined to provide a different answer to Iran’s economic problems. He smiled as he thought back to an economics lecture he had attended decades earlier, where the professor had said that if you didn’t want to share the pie differently, bake a bigger pie.

  Reza’s smile grew even wider as he thought about his pie’s prime ingredient. Then, his pleasant imaginings were interrupted by reality, in the form of a knock announcing Guardian Colonel Bijan Turani‘s arrival for his scheduled briefing.

  “So, Colonel, I understand the exercise was a success,” Reza observed, waving Bijan to the seat across from his desk.

  Bijan nodded. “Frankly, it succeeded beyond all my expectations. I’m beginning to think this plan may work after all.”

  Reza smiled thinly. “Yes, I remember your objections. I’m glad to see you coming around. I understand one soldier was injured?”

  Bijan frowned. “Yes, but not seriously. I plan to get improved laser designators for the troops in this mission to avoid more casualties like his, caused by his being too close to the target. In fact, I already have orders en route to our purchasing agents in the US.”

  Reza’s eyebrows flew upwards. “America! Are you sure we can get them here in time, and without detection?”

  Bijan grinned. “This is hardly the first time we have needed a rush shipment of American military equipment. I placed the orders yesterday, via free two-day air shipping. Once our purchasing agents in the US receive them, they will fly with them as checked baggage through a variety of routings. The Americans and Europeans will scan their baggage for explosives, but nothing else. Even if the bags are opened, security screeners will find only legally purchased civilian laser designators.”

  Reza frowned. “Civilian? Won’t they be weak and useless to our soldiers?”

  Now Bijan’s grin grew wider. “On the contrary, the American soldiers who thoughtfully reviewed them said they were comparable to the ones they had used in the military.”

  Reza shook his head. “This makes no sense. Isn’t such equipment restricted, and ridiculously expensive? How could you make these purchases without my authorization?”

  Bijan shrugged. “The price of well under two thousand dollars each fell well within my spending authority, and in fact they were even on sale! As for restriction, the website did say that they could be sold only to US citizens, and were not for export. So, on the online order form I did have to… check a box.”

  When he saw Reza’s expression in response, Bijan couldn’t restrain his laughter. After a few seconds, Bijan was astonished to hear Reza join him.

  He had honestly never imagined the dour cleric capable of laughter.

  After a few moments their laughter wound down and Bijan asked the question that had been troubling him during the entire trip back from the exercise.

  “If we get all the pieces in place in time, the first phase of the plan may be successful. But even so, do you really believe the Saudis can be defeated with the limited forces we have available? It may take time for them to move the forces they have in Yemen, and I have some ideas for how we can slow that redeployment down. But make no mistake- most of their troops and armor will be back to fight us far sooner than we’d like. Of course, the aircraft now in Yemen will be back within hours.”

  Reza nodded. “Yes, I think it is time to tell the others the real plan, not the one I have had “Al-Nadha” selling to everyone. First, while I do intend for two of the nuclear devices to be used on Saudi desalination plants, the third will not be detonated in a major Eastern province oil field. Instead, now that you have confirmed it is possible, I plan to drop it on Riyadh.”

  If Reza had expected shock from Bijan, he was disappointed. “Well, that makes sense. Nearly all of the central government is there, including almost all hig
h-ranking members of the royal family. Command and control of Saudi armed forces will be severely disrupted, and the substantial military forces guarding the capital will be destroyed. More of the Saudis’ oil money has gone to building hospitals, universities and other institutions in Riyadh than any other city.”

  Bijan paused. “But above all, the city has well over five million residents, about a fifth of the entire Saudi nation. Yes, losing Riyadh would be a mortal blow.”

  Reza smiled. “I’m so glad you approve.”

  Bijan ignored Reza’s sardonic tone and asked, “Are you concerned about the American reaction to the likely destruction of Eskan Village Air Base, as well as the death of their diplomatic personnel at the US Embassy? I am not sure how many American diplomats are in Riyadh, but I recall about two thousand Americans are stationed at Eskan. It is true that the base is on the outskirts of the city and so some at Eskan may survive, but I think the odds are against it.”

  Reza shook his head decisively. “No. The Americans will not use their nuclear weapons against us. They would think of it as sinking to our level, since any nuclear attack on Iran would kill far more than two thousand. I think a conventional military strike is certain, probably by air. We will need to move the Assembly of Experts to a prepared location as soon as the weapon detonates in Riyadh.”

  Bijan cocked his head. “Not sooner?”

  Reza shook his head even more vigorously. “Definitely not. What would we tell them? No, the attack must be kept secret until the last possible moment. Besides, the fact that Qom is a holy city may prevent the Americans from attacking it at all. They may limit their strikes to our military bases, since after all an American military base will be what we destroyed.”

  Bijan decided not to raise the casualties among US Embassy Riyadh personnel again, since Reza clearly saw them as unimportant. “Well, at least there we are prepared. We’ve spent years anticipating an American or Israeli air attack, so our most important military assets are underground, in mountain excavations, or in hardened bunkers that can withstand all but the largest conventional warheads."

  Reza nodded. “Excellent. But I see from your expression that you still have concerns.”

  Bijan frowned. He wasn’t aware he was that easy to read, but quickly realized that was a skill to be expected from someone sitting in the chair of Iran’s Supreme Leader. Even if he was a temporary occupant.

  Of course, if this plan succeeded Reza might be in that chair a lot longer, he thought. Not for the first time.

  Aloud, he asked, “Even if the attack on Riyadh is successful and the Saudis are thrown into chaos, do we really expect to take over the entire Kingdom?

  Because that’s what we’d have to do to take over Mecca and Medina. I think the resistance we’d face would make what the Americans dealt with in Iraq child’s play by comparison.”

  Reza simply nodded. “i am aware of the problems you describe. However, control of Mecca and Medina is not my goal.”

  Bijan started, genuinely surprised. “Then, what is?”

  Reza smiled. “You know that most Saudi oil is in the Eastern Province, near the Persian Gulf. Where the majority of its residents are Shi’a. Who have been severely repressed by the Saudis. If we destroy Riyadh, and appear in the Eastern Province with a substantial armored force, wouldn’t most there greet us as liberators?”

  Bijan was silent for a moment. Having just spoken of Iraq, the Americans’ naive belief that they would be welcomed because they had overthrown

  Saddam was still fresh in his mind. He quickly realized, though, that this time Reza was right.

  After the best known Saudi Shi’a religious leader, Sheik Nimr Baqir al-Nimr, was executed in 2016 the authorities added to the Shi’a community’s sense of outrage by refusing to give his body to his family for burial. The following year the Shi’a town of Al-Awamiyah was razed by government forces claiming it was a terrorist base, forcing those of its twenty-five thousand inhabitants who were not killed outright to flee.

  The Eastern Province just might rise in rebellion if given the chance.

  Bijan slowly nodded. “Maybe. But what if they don’t? They might not actively resist us, but instead just hide in their homes. After all, many of them probably have relatives living in Riyadh they’ll never see again after our attack.”

  Reza frowned, and Bijan sensed he’d raised a problem that hadn’t occurred to him before. Of course, he thought grimly, when you’re inflicting mass casualties unforeseen problems were to be expected.

  “Well, if occupying the Eastern Province turns out not to be feasible, there are two other possibilities,” Reza said with a smile.

  Bijan wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer, but knew he had to ask the question. “Which two would those be?”

  Reza’s smile now reminded Bijan of a cartoon he had once seen of a shark swimming up to a beach, and grinning as it pointed up at the legs of the swimmers with one of its fins.

  “Bahrain,” Reza said simply.

  Bijan frowned. “Yes, I remember hearing a few years back that they had discovered a large new offshore field. About eighty billion barrels of oil and twenty trillion cubic feet of natural gas, if I remember correctly. But we have plenty of oil and gas of our own, surely?”

  Reza nodded. “We do. But access to Bahrain’s resources could give us far more. And since over seventy percent of Bahrain’s citizens are Shi’a, we can expect them to welcome our help in overthrowing the Sunni Al Khalifa dynasty in Manama. Remember that in 2011 the Al Khalifas nearly came to an end as protesters overwhelmed the police. Only the intervention of the Saudi military saved them that time. This time, the Saudis will be far too busy to rescue them."

  Bijan shrugged. “Perhaps. But do we have the resources to take on the Saudis as well as launching an invasion of Bahrain?”

  Reza smiled, but this time instead of a shark Bijan thought of a sly fox.

  With some irritation, he thought that Reza might be a bit too impressed with himself.

  “You know that about one hundred thousand Bahrainis, or about fifteen percent of the total population, are Ajam?”

  Bijan raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “No, I didn’t know that the number of Bahrainis of Iranian origin was that high. I do know that they speak both Farsi and Arabic.”

  Reza nodded approvingly. “Correct. The Ajam are key to our plans. We have been smuggling them weapons for the past two years, and have secretly brought their leaders with military experience here for further training. I have had Pasdaran agents in Bahrain coordinating with them as well as other Shi’a leaders during that time. If our plans succeed in Saudi Arabia we will seize Manama Airport, and fly in whatever additional forces we need. But the bulk of our invasion force… is already there.”

  Bijan knew better than to ask why he, a high-ranking Pasdaran officer, had not been told about these actions. Up until now, he hadn’t needed to know.

  “You mentioned two possibilities?”

  Reza leaned forward. “Indeed I did. And you should be able to guess the second, after the report you gave me about the exercise.”

  Now Bijan was truly shocked. “But the Qataris will be attacking the Saudis alongside us!”

  Reza showed no emotion at all. “Yes, and they will leave their country defenseless as a result. And we will have weapons capable of great destruction in Qatar, at their invitation. The howitzers are self-propelled, correct?”

  Bijan nodded numbly.

  “So, after the attack on the Saudi blockaders, we can move the howitzers to the port at Doha under the guise of preparing to return them to Iran. That will put them in perfect position to threaten the Qatari capital. I imagine it would take no more than a few volleys to bring down many of their famous high-rise buildings. Plus, we already have some troops stationed in Qatar,” Reza said with satisfaction.

  Bijan shook his head. “But Qatar is majority Sunni, and its population has shown no signs of rebellion. Can we really force regime change just by threaten
ing to destroy some of their buildings?”

  Reza smiled. “No, you’re right that we couldn’t bring down Qatar’s monarchy so easily, but it will make them willing to listen to our proposal.

  What we will offer is an alliance guaranteeing that no canal will be built cutting off Qatar from the Arabian Peninsula, and no embargo will be allowed against it. After the damage we will do to Saudi Arabia, I think Qatar will be far down their priority list. Of course, our protection will come at a cost.”

  Bijan frowned. “Are you sure the Qataris will give in so easily? They could call their tanks and planes back from attacking Saudi Arabia, and make short work of our howitzers. For that matter, they could probably do it with whatever forces they leave behind.”

  Reza’s smile grew wider. “Of course, at the right time you will need to make sure the Qataris understand that at the first sign they are doing any such thing our howitzers will immediately open fire on downtown Doha, and the armor we have not far away to attack the Saudis will switch to targeting them. Besides, think logically. Who else will protect Qatar from an eventual revenge attack by the Saudis?”

  Bijan grunted, and at first said nothing. Reza had a point. Having kicked out the Americans, Qatar had few options left. They certainly weren’t going to ask the Russians for help. Iran could well be in a position to dictate terms, since the Saudis would eventually attack Qatar for its role in the war that was about to start, even if the Qataris were initially successful.

  Finally, though, Bijan couldn’t restrain himself. “But is this really all something we can call ‘war’? Two small armored forces, a few nuclear weapons that may or may not work — isn’t all this a huge gamble in taking on the best-armed country in the region behind only Israel and Egypt?”

  To Bijan’s surprise Reza didn’t appear even a little upset or offended. “I understand your concerns. But think about Russia’s success in Crimea.

  Propaganda, some Special Forces troops, and repeated denials that the Russian government had anything to do with what was happening were all that they deployed. Still, in a matter of months, somehow a territory of twenty-seven thousand square kilometers with a population of over two million was under Russian control. You can say what we’re going to do isn’t a war. I say it is war — as it’s practiced in the modern age.”