The Iranian Napoleon
Journey to internment
April 24, 2001
The Iranian
C Skrine (later Sir), a British Civil Servant of the Indian Office,
was assigned to accompany Reza Shah into exile after his abdication in 1941.
Skrine spend two tours in Iran as the British Consul in Mashhad during the
Second World War and then later as Consul General in Tehran. Below is the
complete Chapter Six from his book -- World War in Iran-- about Reza
Shah's internment by the British. In characteristically English style he
understates the plans of his government. The real aim of his mission
was to intern the ex-Shah. The narrative starts with a summary of the occupation
of Iran by the Allies and events leading up to Reza Shah's abdication, before
describing his encounter with the "Napoleon of modern Iran" who
became "a broken man, a prisoner of his memories." -- Amir Rostam Beglie-Beigie
THE events and diplomatic exchanges which led to the occupation in August
1941 of key areas in Western and Northern Iran by British and Russian forces
respectively have passed into history, but the East Persian story I have
to tell has not. In order, therefore, to put it in its proper perspective,
and also to lead up to the strange mission I have just referred to, I propose
to preface my narrative with a review of the drama which unfolded on the
wider and far more important West Persian stage. Of necessity, as
I was unconnected with the events in question, I rely on the first-hand
accounts and historical researches of others. (1)
In 1928, when I was Consul in Zabol (Sistan), the extra-territorial jurisdiction
of foreign consuls in Persia which had been moribund for years was formally
abolished. This reform and other measures by which Reza Shah Pahlevi
fostered a national spirit in his people loosened one after the other the
ties which had for decades linked Persian and British interests in the Middle
East. The surrender by the British-owned and managed Imperial Bank
of Persia of its functions as a State Bank, the closing of the Royal Navy's
coaling stations on Basidu and Henjam Islands in the Gulf, the absorption
of the Indo-European Telegraph land line into the Persian system, the transfer
of the Imperial Airways route to India from the Persian to the Arab side
of the Gulf, the revision in Persia's favour of the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company's
concession-all these and other changes resulted in a progressive weakening
of British influence and prestige. But the Shah was not tough only
with Britain.
The Soviet Union, which had been the first to surrender its claim to
a special position in the new Iran, found its remaining interests being
gradually whittled away. In 1937 the Kremlin cut its losses and closed
the thousand-mile Russo-Persian land frontier on both sides of the Caspian,
as well as all the Russian consulates; only the big Embassy behind its towering
walls continued to function, though (above the counter at any rate) on a
reduced scale. Britain's reactions were different. With a forbearance
characteristic of the appeasement policies of the period, she turned her
other cheek to the smiter. Our Legation at Tehran and most of the
consular posts carried on as if nothing had happened, an attitude which
instead of appeasing the Shah only made him more angry. Why could
not the British follow the example of their Russian rivals and remove their
consulates?
But there was nothing he could do about it without putting Persia in
the wrong diplomatically. What did happen was that the British consulates
and communities in the provinces were systematically boycotted. The
completeness of the 'Great Boycott' varied, I believe, from province to
province according to the degree of Anglophobia, real or assumed, shown
by the higher officials. It will probably never be known whether the
rather childish idea of sending the British to Coventry was Reza Shah's
own (no such instructions were ever admitted officially) or whether it was
a spontaneous reaction of those of his ministers and others in authority
who felt as he did about the special position that Britain had gained for
herself in their country. At Meshed, except for the Ostandar (Governor
General) and his staff on formal occasions no Persian, official or unofficial,
openly visited the British Consulate-General or received anyone from it
at his house. It was as much as a lesser functionary's job was worth
to be seen hobnobbing with a Briton. At official receptions the British
guests were entertained in a separate room. Local domestic staff became
almost unobtainable.
Meanwhile at Tehran the agents of resurgent Germany
saw their opportunity. Hitler, looking to the Gulf and India, cashed
in on the eclipse of the Reich's two great rivals and on the Shah's urge
to modernise his kingdom. As Sir Reader Bullard, who was British Minister
and afterwards Ambassador during the whole of the war, tells us
Reza Shah set up, in foreign trade, currency and clearing restrictions
which did not suit British methods, but which fitted in very well with
those of the Hitler regime. Moreover in production Persia and Germany
were complementary, one having raw materials and some foodstuffs to export,
the other manufactured goods. In this way the Germans secured a commercial
hold which they turned into a political asset. They obtained a very
large share of the business resulting from the Shah's desire to industrialise
his country. They built factories, sent Germans to show Persians
how to run them, and then provided Germans to give training to young Persians
in technical schools. (2)
Small wonder if in June 1941, when Hitler hurled the Wehrmacht against
Persia's dreaded 'Northern Neighbour', she became a happy hunting ground
for Axis agents acting under cover of industrial and commercial enterprise.
For years the Persians had basked in the sun of German favour, selling their
products at flattering prices to their new friends, and buying Germany's
subsidised exports cheap. It must surely have occurred to some of
them that once Hitler had attained the objects of this rare generosity he
would be in a position to put the process in reverse with catastrophic effect
upon their country's economy. But the risk had to be faced, a German
victory was certain, and it was important to be riding on the right band-wagon
when the time came. The number of Germans resident in Persia, reported
in May 1940 to be about seven hundred, was estimated by the Commander-in-Chief
in India on 29th July 1941 at between two and three thousand persons, many
of them active fifth-columnists. In addition there were 'tourists'
everywhere, four thousand of them according to The Times correspondent,
armed with short-term visas and continually being replaced from Germany
via Turkey.
Of particular significance was the fact that many of the German advisers
and technicians were in key positions on the Trans-Iranian Railway, in the
postal service, in car firms and road transport services, and in war industries
such as the Skoda small-arms factory near Tehran. Two technicians
at the Tehran radio station, Franz Mayr and Bertold Schaltze, were known
to be key men in the German secret service. others included a doctor at
Kermanshah, the Director of the Technical College at Kerman, and a lecturer
at the Karaj Agricultural Institute. This state of affairs could not be
tolerated by Britain and her Russian ally, already reeling under the German
blows. It recalled the infiltration tactics which only a few weeks
before had culminated in the pro-Axis revolt of Rashid Ali in Iraq.
At an interview with the Persian Prime Minister on 1st July Sir Reader Bullard
asked for the expulsion of four-fifths of the Germans and gave chapter and
verse for their activities.
The response of the Persian Government to this dimarche
was totally inadequate. During the next four weeks they sent a few
Germans away here and there and put the British and Russian envoys off with
arguments about the necessity of strict neutrality. Considering the
nature and scale of the fifth-column and other activities organised by,
or in collusion with, the German Legation, that neutrality had already been
violated several times over. Finally, on 7th August, the British and
Soviet Ministers presented a joint Note from their Governments summarising
their complaints and asking for the expulsion of all but a few indispensable
Germans, who must be kept under strict surveillance and their movements
restricted. The Persian reply to this Note in effect pooh-poohed the
fears of the Allies and made no promise to send away any more Germans than
the few already expelled. (3)
Efforts by Sir Reader to obtain an audience of the Shah having failed,
the Allied Governments concluded that he and his ministers had no intention
of compromising themselves with Hitler by seriously interfering with the
activities of his agents, accredited or unaccredited, and they took the
matter into their own hands. At dawn on 25th August 1941 British and
Russian forces simultaneously invaded Persia, the former from the west and
south-west, the latter from the north. British and Indian troops of
the 10th Indian Division from Baghdad under Major-General (now Field-Marshal
Viscount) Slim crossed the frontier at Qasr-i-Shirin which they captured
on the first day with the Naft-i-Shah oilfield to the south of it; on the
second day they outmanoeuvred a strong Persian force on the Pai Tak pass,
and on the fourth, when the Persians received orders from the Shah to cease
fire, they entered Kermanshah. Resistance to this thrust was half-hearted.
Only on the Zibiri ridge was there any serious fighting, when Persian artillery
and light machine-guns gave a good account of themselves and inflicted casualties
on British infantry and Gurkhas.
Simultaneously, three hundred miles to the south-west, the 8th Indian
Division from Basra under Major-General C. 0. Harvey had captured Abadan
and its refinery, the port of Khurramshahr, the naval barracks and the few
small warships anchored to it, the key fortress of Qasr-i-Shaikh, and the
oil port of Bandar-i-Shahpur where several Axis merchantmen were sheltering.
This force met a more spirited opposition than had Major-General Slim's.
In and around the Refinery there was some difficult street fighting, and
at Qasr-i-Shaikh the defenders fought bravely against Sikhs and Lancers,
inflicting casualties and themselves losing 38 dead, 4 wounded and 6 prisoners
in trench fighting. The capture of the naval barracks and ships, too,
was not effected without loss by Baluchi infantry, one of whose British
officers was killed. On the Persian side the commander, Admiral Bayendor,
lost his life. His death was much regretted on our side as well as
on his own, for he was known to be well disposed to the Western Allies,
though completely loyal to his own King. He was buried with full military
honours the next day. In all the two British forces lost 20 killed
and 50 wounded, British and Indian, in the three and a half days' operations.
Meanwhile the Russians in the north had been performing
with gusto their part in the concerted operations. A strong mechanised
column from Tiflis crossed the frontier at julfa, passed through Tabriz
and drove down the Tehran road to Mianeh and Zenjan, while another from
Baku came down the western coast of the Caspian to Pahlevi and Resht.
Converging on Qazvin they occupied that town and stood poised for an advance
on the capital, only ninety miles to the east. The British and Russian
commanders met in friendly conclave at Qazvin (4) on 31st
August, and their reconnaissance detachments also made contact at Sehneh,
forty miles east of Kermanshah. Simultaneously, three other Red Army
columns east of the Caspian crossed the frontier at Gurgan, Bajgiran and
Sarakhs respectively. This three-pronged incursion into Khorasan did
not come into the news at all and is believed to have been planned by Moscow
without the knowledge, or at any rate without the approval, of the British
Government.
The Red Army's invasion of the northern provinces, in sharp contrast
to that of the British-Indian columns in the west and south-west, was virtually
unopposed by the Persian army. Why this was so will be seen when we
come to the story of the Russian occupation of Meshed. The contrast
was significant of the difference between the average Persian's idea of
the British Empire and his feelings about the 'Northern Neighbour.
All accounts agree that neither the retreating soldiery nor the civil population
affected by the British invasion showed either resentment or more than short-lived
fear. General Slirn's strategy was indeed both skilful and humane;
in the words of a correspondent who accompanied the expedition:
... the British commander preferred, without undue risk to the troops,
to gain objectives by maneuvering the Iranian forces out of position with
a minimum of casualties on both sides and of damage to property, rather
than by smashing them with a weight of metal.
At Kermanshah, in the crowds which watched the eight-mile long procession
of vehicles,
some persons waved and appeared pleased to see them, and some looked
gloomy and unfriendly, but the majority indicated no emotions.
To a Times correspondent one of the unmoved ones explained, "Oh
well, you've been here before. Iranians know that you English are
gentlemen." It must be remembered of course, that to men who have nothing
to lose any change may be for the better, and it is a fact that the invaders
were shocked by the grinding poverty of the peasantry, even by Indian standards.
Another observer wrote:
The grain and sugar monopolies, oppressive taxation and other exactions
have reduced the population of these fertile lands to a state of semi-starvation.
The distribution of a sack of potatoes by our troops at one village through
which they passed caused a desperate and pathetic scramble.
Yet the same correspondent reported a day or two later
that large stocks of grain had been found by the advancing troops and that
the local scarcities were "evidently due to faulty distribution".
This was putting it mildly, as I was to find in the eastern provinces six
months later.
Many Persians thought at the time, and some still think, that our complaints
about the German fifth column were just British hypocrisy and an excuse
for seizing the Trans-Iranian Railway in order to send supplies to Russia.
Why could we not have come clean with the Shah and made it worth his while
to cooperate? His Majesty the present Shah in his recently-published
memoir expresses this view. (5)
Everybody would now agree with me [he says] that if the Allies had not
needed a supply route, they would probably not have invaded Iran in the
Second World War.
Secret despatches and telegrams between Middle Eastern Command, the Government
of India and His Majesty's Government quoted in the Official History
of the Indian Armed Forces during World War II do not support this hypothesis.
They make it clear that the possibility of eventually sending supplies to
Russia through Persia, though an important consideration, was a secondary
one for the Allies; more urgent at the time was the need, firstly, to protect
the oilfields of Persia and Iraq, and secondly, to secure our lines of communication
in case it became necessary to oppose in Western Persia a German drive towards
the Gulf either through Turkey or across the Caucasus. His Majesty
suspects, however, that the Allies intended all along to 'eliminate' his
father, and deliberately concealed their real object from him. They
were less interested, he thinks, in reaching a settlement than in finding
a pretext for invasion. If the Allies had been more candid with his
father and had offered him an honourable alliance before instead of after
invading the country, Reza Shah would either have accepted their terms or,
much more probably, would have stepped aside so that his son could do so.
With all due deference to the royal author, this reading of the situation
during the last fateful weeks before the Occupation does not take into the
account the facts as they must have presented themselves to Reza Shah and
his ministers. How many Persians believed then that Russia would withstand
the might of the Wehrmacht, or that Britain, once Russia was eliminated,
would have the slightest chance of escaping defeat? One has only to
put oneself in the Persian Government's place to realise that it would have
seemed to them little short of madness to surrender to the Allies, without
firing a shot, control of their railways, docks and road-system for the
purpose of helping Russia to repel the German onslaught; a fortiori, a military
alliance was unthinkable. The most that Britain and Russia could hope
for was that the Shah and his ministers could be persuaded to restore Persia's
battered neutrality by putting a stop once and for all to the German infiltration
and intrigues. As even that proved impossible, the only alternative
was to use overwhelming force. Then, if the Germans had beaten Russia
to her knees and threatened Persia with vengeance, her rulers could have
justly pleaded that they had done their best but had to yield to force majeure.
In any case, it is probably true that even before
the tide of German infiltration reached its flood, the years had caught
up with Reza Pahlevi and he had lost his grip. He became less and
less accessible and no longer took the vigorous personal part in the conduct
of affairs which had been the secret of his success as an almost absolute
monarch. Sir Reader Bullard and his Soviet colleague, Smirnov, at
last had audience of him when they were summoned to the Palace after presenting
Notes from their Governments explaining the necessity for the invasion.
"The Shah looked old and rather feeble," wrote the British Minister
in his report on the interview. "We both gained the impression
that he was taken aback by the invasion, because he had supposed that everything
was going nicely, and we saw clearly that he had not been kept fully informed
by his Ministers. We spent much time in giving him information about
the German menace in Iran and much of it seemed new to him." (6)
There is reason to believe, however, that the defeat of his army shocked
him out of his uncharacteristic lethargy, and that he resumed control to
a certain extent during the weeks which followed. It is difficult
to explain otherwise the delays and prevarications which obstructed the
Allies in their efforts to rid Persia of the German incubus. The terms
of the armistice were that specific areas were to be temporarily occupied;
that all Germans should be evacuated; and that facilities should be given
for the despatch of supplies to Russia. In return the Allies promised
economic assistance, including the continuance of the oil royalties; they
guaranteed the independence and territorial integrity of Persia; and they
undertook to withdraw their troops as soon as the military situation permitted.
These terms were lenient enough, and the Allies did all they could, by
sparing Tehran for a whole fortnight the indignity of military occupation,
to secure their willing acceptance by the Shah and his new Prime Minister,
the reputedly friendly Muhammad Ali Furughi. But the Persians stalled
time after time and the negotiations dragged on inconclusively. The
German Minister and his large staff stayed on, redoubling their intrigues
and protecting in the compound of their summer legation hundreds of the
Germans whose expulsion was being demanded. A week after Persian resistance
ended The Times diplomatic correspondent reported that Germans were still
"dashing about in high-powered cars, hanging out the swastika, cutting
a figure in Persian homes, insulting British passers-by, and spreading anti-Ally
rumours". One of these was to the effect that the German Minister
was keeping up the morale of his community by telling them that the Anglo-Russo-Persian
negotiations were likely to drag on until the German army was ready to intervene.
No doubt he assured the Persians at the same time that Allied hesitation
to occupy the capital was due to shortage of men and munitions, or just
plain funk, or both.
But the sands were running out. Questions prompted by The Times
reports began to be asked in London. On gth September in the House
of Commons the Prime Minister spoke of "events in Iran, or Persia as
I prefer to call it", and promised to take all necessary further measures
to obtain the surrender of all Germans and Italians and the expulsion of
the enemy legations. Next day, at Tehran, a final and peremptory Note
was handed to the Persian Government. M. Furughi and his colleagues
showed goodwill. It was announced that all German nationals were being
handed over to the British for internment except fifty or more notorious
agents whom the Russians were taking into custody. But somehow nothing got
done, and to make matters worse the Tehran daily Ettela'at, published in
Persian and French, appeared on 11th September with a leader definitely
unfriendly to the Allies.
Meanwhile, however, a change had come over the political scene. What
had been whispered was now said openly, that nothing but the Shah's wrath
restrained those of his ministers who agreed to the Allied terms and tried
to implement them. He was known to have thrown the War Minister into
prison after striking him with the flat of his sword for questioning the
wisdom of his policy. Constitutional agitation, suppressed for twenty
years, raised its head; in the Majlis there was talk of an all-party deputation
waiting on the Shah and urging on him the necessity of cooperating with
the Allies lest worse should befall.
It was not constitutional agitation, however, that decided Reza Shah
Pahlevi to abdicate in favour of his eldest son, Mohammed Reza Pahlevi,
aged twenty-one. Nor did either of the Allied Governments concemed
call upon him to vacate the throne. Sir Reader Bullard is definite
on this point.
What decided him to abdicate [says Sir Reader] was
a movement of Russian troops from Qazvin, some ninety miles from Tehran,
towards the capital. This advance was carried out under an agreement
whereby British and Russian troops were to occupy the suburbs of Tehran
in order to hasten the promised expulsion of the Axis representatives from
Tehran and the arrest and surrender to the Allies of the German residents
in Tehran. The moment the Shah heard of the Russian advance he wrote
out his abdication and left for the south, where he was given a passage
on a British steamer. (7)
The steamer on which the Shah embarked at Bandar Abbas was the Bandra,
4000 tons, and she sailed for Bombay on 27th September 1941. (8)
Meanwhile Whitehall and Delhi had been in anxious conclave as to what
to do with the self-exiled monarch and his party, which consisted of no
less than eleven members of his family and eight of his household.
He evidently proposed to stay a considerable time in India, for he had remitted
a large sum to an Indian bank for the purpose. But the Government
of India put their foot down firmly on the idea.
Things were going badly for the Empire on land and sea; nationalist Muslim
agitation was at its height; there would almost certainly be riotous demonstrations
if the king of the largest and most ancient Muhammadan state in the world,
whom (in Muslim eyes) we had deposed and exiled by force of arms, were to
appear in Bombay, Calcutta or any other big city. India apart, the
risk could not be run of an enemy Government welcoming the Shah as a Heaven-sent
focus of intrigue for the rest of the war. A comfortable refuge must
be found for him, but where? The problems of transport were formidable
and time was very short. There must have been sighs of relief in the
highest quarters when the Governor of Mauritius, Sir Bede Clifford, came
to the rescue with an offer of suitable accommodation on that delectable
island and promised to make the party comfortable.
But a Persian-speaking escort of sufficient rank to be acceptable to
the royal party would be needed to meet them before they reached Bombay,
to break it to them that they could not land, and to keep their ship at
a safe distance until they could be transferred to a larger liner for the
voyage to Mauritius. This delicate duty was assigned by the Viceroy
to me; and as I happened to be free of official responsibilities at the
time it was decided also that I should sail with the Shah to Mauritius and
help the Governor for the first few weeks as adviser, liaison officer and
interpreter. For it was well known that Reza Shah Pahlevi spoke no
language but his own, and though it was probable that one or more of the
party spoke English, the presence of a trustworthy interpreter of British
nationality was considered essential.
Two friends and colleagues briefed me for this unusual
assignment, the Foreign Secretary, Olaf Caroe (9) and his
Deputy Secretary, Hugh Weightman (10) They impressed on
me the extreme importance of secrecy as to the Shah's whereabouts until
he was safely on the high seas between Bombay and Mauritius. To put
the news-hawks off the scent, a rumour had been allowed to leak out that
he was travelling overland via Zahedan and Quetta. No one, not even
the captain, was to be allowed on shore from the Bandra at Bombay,
and no one but a representative of the Bank which held the Shah's funds
was to be permitted access to the ship. A Henderson liner, the Burma,
11,000 tons, was being made available for the voyage to Mauritius.
And so it was that early on 1st October 1941 I boarded the Bandra
six miles out to sea from Bombay and showed my credentials to the Captain,
who presented me to the ex-Shah and left me with him. I will draw
a veil over the mauvais quart d'heure which followed, and merely say that
it was not more distressing than I had expected. His Majesty Reza
Shah Pahlevi, as to me he still was, gave the impression of a mighty man
of war broken by defeat. After the initial shock he bore himself with
great dignity and fortitude. The young people not unnaturally took
the catastrophic collapse of their youthful hopes and plans less philosophically;
later, reassured as to the British Government's intentions regarding the
conditions of their internment on Mauritius, they followed their august
father's example and resigned themselves to the inevitable. Their
chief concern now became the purchase of their requirements for the island,
and this I was able to arrange for them with the aid of an English tailor
and a young Mauritian lady whom, in defiance of the Foreign Secretary's
instructions, I took on board with me. The joys of shopping (even
by proxy) were a welcome distraction to the ladies and children during the
halt at Bombay, and the excitement of examining and trying on their purchases
helped notably on the voyage to Mauritius.
The ex-Shah did not appreciate the hospitality so unceremoniously thrust
upon him by the agents of a foreign Power. He sent through me telegrams
of protest to the Viceroy, to the British Prime Minister, and to his son
at Tehran, and up to the last minute he waited hopefully for favourable
replies. But the war had reached an exceedingly critical stage, and
the War Cabinet did not change their minds at the eleventh hour. It
was a bad moment for us all when the Bandra was brought into harbour
on the morning of 6th October and we were trans-shipped to the Burma.
We sailed almost immediately afterwards. I could hardly face my charges;
I was particularly sorry for the old Shah, whose feelings as he watched
Bombay recede into the shimmering distance must have plumbed the very depths
of despair. It may have been worse for him even than the farewell
to his native land at Bandar Abbas. Then, he had been going into honourable
retirement with a whole company of sons and daughters, whose pleasure in
the famous places they were going to see would be his consolation.
Now, even that dream had faded and he was being carried with them, as it
seemed to him, into ignominious captivity at the end of the world.
The voyage of 2,300 miles from latitude 19 degrees N. to latitude 20
degrees S. took ten days and was uneventful. We were protected unobtrusively
from afar by the Royal Navy, for the Burma was just as likely as
any other British ship to be the target of an enemy torpedo. Every
morning at the Shah's request I sat for an hour or so with him. Part
of the time he sat in state in the main saloon conversing with one or more
of his sons, who always stood respectfully with hands folded throughout
the audience. His favourite theme with me was the events which led
up to his abdication and the mistake the British made in not taking him
into their confidence beforehand - very much the same line as that taken,
as mentioned above, by his son, the present Shah, in Mission for my Country.
It was during these talks that I appreciated the Viceroy's wisdom in selecting
as the ex-Shah's escort one who had had no connexion whatever with recent
events in Persia. I could truthfully disclaim all knowledge of the
answers to his awkward questions. I was a mere escort, a personal
emissary of the Viceroy, selected for my knowledge (such as it was) of the
language and my high rank in the civil service. The old king was obviously
sceptical, but he respected what he no doubt regarded as my diplomatic reticence,
and he treated me with courteous dignity throughout our intercourse in the
Burma and afterwards on the island.
At last we anchored off Port Louis, chief town and port of Mauritius.
The Governor, Sir Bede Clifford, K.C.M.G., came on board in full uniform
to welcome the Shah and inform him of the arrangements made for his stay
on the island. A three-storeyed country house at Moka in the best
residential neighbourhood, with a fine garden and a smaller villa in the
grounds, had been vacated at short notice by its public-spirited owner and
prepared for the accommodation of the party. After the interview Sir
Bede went ashore, and in the afternoon the ship was brought in and docked.
When we disembarked, a double company of local Territorials stood at attention
on the quay as a guard of honour. It was a surprise to me as well
as to the Shah, and I did not quite know how he would take it. At
the foot of the gangway he stood in his grey suit and Homburg hat, seemingly
in doubt what to do about the guard. One could imagine the thoughts
that must be passing through his mind, of past guards of honour mounted
by his own beloved army, and of himself in the full panoply of war inspecting
them as their commander and king; of Ankara, where at the zenith of his
power he was received with full honours by the great Ataturk, on the only
occasion on which he had ever visited a foreign country. At last he
beckoned to the eldest of his sons, and after a brief colloquy walked with
dignified step past the guard followed by the five hatless Princes.
Though he gave nothing away-he glanced indeed somewhat disparagingly, I
thought, at the troops-he acknowledged the Commandant's salute with an affable
nod and I could see that he was not unappreciative of the compliment paid
him.
There was more to come. When the procession of cars arrived at
the Moka house, there from its highest roof-top floated proudly the green,
white and red flag of Iran, complete with Lion and Sun at its centre.
It had been made for the occasion by ladies of the colony working overtime
under the direction of Lady Clifford. These gestures of welcome, and
the admirable arrangements made by their Excellencies for the Shah and his
family, were all the more appreciated by them because, in spite of all my
assurances, they had feared up to the last moment that they would be put
behind barbed wire on Mauritius.
Five weeks later I left the Napoleon of modern Iran upon his fairer St.
Helena. By an unfortunate chance we had arrived towards the end of
the eight months' season of the cool south-east Trades, which soon began
to weaken and give way to the sultry 'Malagasy' wind that blows from Madagascar
and equatorial Africa. Everything possible was done for the comfort
of the Shah and his family; a third villa was made available for their accommodation;
the best doctors on the island were placed in medical charge of them; the
most expensive French-style caterers attended to their inner needs.
Learned tutors were engaged for the younger boys, for one of their father's
chief anxieties had been the break in their education caused by the internment.
The party had their own cars, three big American saloons from Tehran
and a British sports two-seater I had bought for the eldest Princess and
her husband at Bombay, and the island's many beauty-spots of sea and mountain
were within easy reach. But Reza Shah's health had seriously deteriorated
since his abdication. He was a broken man, a prisoner of his memories,
and even if the season had been more propitious the island would have held
no charms for him. He asked to be moved from Mauritius to a more suitable
locality, and in the spring of 1942 he and most of the family took up their
residence at Johannesburg, the dry continental climate of which markedly
resembles that of the Persian plateau. The ex-Shah died there two
years later at the age of sixty-six.
Reza Shah Pahlevi, posthumously entitled 'The Great' in the annals of
his country was indeed if not the greatest, at any rate one of the strongest
and ablest men Iran has produced in all the two and a half millenniums of
her history. But for his fatal miscalculation as to the strength and
ultimate aims of Hitler's Germany he might have gone down to history as
another and even more successful Ataturk. Though the last act of his
life's drama was a sad anticlimax, nothing can detract from the debt Iran
owes him for releasing her national genius from the medieval bondage of
the Qajar Shahs and setting her footsteps irrevocably upon the paths of
modern progress.
The late Prince Ali Reza Pahlevi told me on board the Burma that
one of the countries his father had looked forward to visiting on his way
from India to Chile, his intended destination, was Japan. The Shah
himself said to me more than once, and to Sir Bede Clifford too, that he
would not have embarked on the Bandra if he had known that he was
going to be interned on Mauritius. I have often wondered what would
have happened if he had refused to leave Persia or, alternatively, if the
British Cabinet had not decided to restrict his movements after he left
Bandar Abbas. In the latter case he might well have been enjoying
the hospitality of the Japanese Government when, ten weeks later, the bombs
of Pearl Harbour rocked the planet.
Footnotes
(1) Official History of the Indian Armed Forces in World War II;
The Times, 25th July to 18th October 1941 passim; G. Lenczowski,
Russia and the West in Iran (Cornell University Press 1949); Britain
and the Middle East (Hutchinson 1951), by Sir Reader Bullard, K.C.B.,
K.C.M.G., C.I.E.; Field-Marshal Viscount Slim, K.G., G.C.B., Unofficial
History (Cassell 1960). To top
(2) Britain and the Middle East, pp. 125-6. An illuminating account
of the activities of Mayr and some of the other German agents during 1941
will be found in Daybreak in Iran (Staples Press, 1954), English
edition of a book by one of them, Schulze-Holthus. To top
(3) The Official History of the Indian Armed Forces in the Second
World War, volume entitled Campaign in Western Asia, PP. 300-10,
gives a detailed account of these diplomatic exchanges based on the archives
of the Imperial Government of India. For an authoritative account
of the military operations which followed the reader is referred to chs.
XXXVII to XL of the same volume. See also Field-Marshal Sir William
Slim, Unofficial History, ch. IX. To top
(4) Slim, Op. Cit., Pp. 221 ff. To top
(5) Mission for my Country, pp. 68-73. To top
(6) Official History of the Indian Arrned Forces, 10c. cit., P.
310 To top
(7) Britain and the Middle East, p. 134. See also Official
History of the Indian Armed Forces, 10c. cit., P. 3 5 4, where it is
recorded that the Shah abdicated on 16th September when the Russian forces
began to march from Qazvin towards the capital. The majority of the
Axis diplomatic representatives left two days later. To
top
(8) The account which follows is condensed from an article by the author
entitled Assignment to Mauritius in Blackwood's Magaxine,
February 1954. To top
(9) Now Sir Olaf Caroe, K.C.S.I., C.I.E. To top
(10) The late Sir Hugh Weightman, K.C.I.E. To top
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