In ‘A King’s Revolution’ the Shah recalls precisely when he first decided to recreate this historic role of the Persian kings.
‘This started long ago,’ he says, ‘when I was a young boy in Switzerland making my studies. I was thinking to myself that if, one day, I had a say in the affairs of my country, I would try my best to raise the standards of living of my people, and of our society, to the level of the modern countries of the world.’ Anyone who would seek to change Iran must first conquer the land itself. Surrounded by huge mountains, Iran even today is a gaunt, dry skeleton of salt and sand desert. More than half of it is an arid, irrecoverable wasteland. Three-quarters of all Iranians are peasants, who must drag a living from the unyielding soil. They are scattered throughout a land 14 times the size of Great Britain, and fragmented into 50,000 villages. Few of them can read or write, but they still bear the stamp of the Persian culture. Even the illiterate are lovers of tradition and fine craftsmanship, they are natural orators who venerate the Persian poets.
While the physical structure of the country, and the personality of the people have combined to resist change, many other factors have also conspired to keep Iran backward and depressed. There is the granite barrier of Islam, a religion that fixes life to a pattern set centuries ago; there is the aristocratic and wealthy elite, reluctant to give up their power and privilege; there is the inefficient and ponderous bureaucracy that is a dead hand against progress. Corruption, always prevalent in the Middle East, has become so interwoven with normal life that Iranians accept and justify it with the old proverb, ‘Let no man of rank be a tree without fruit’.
This, then, is something of the size and scope of the Shah’s problem. At first, fired by the idealism of his Swiss schooldays, he tried to put his reform over by personal example. He gave away his own lands to the peasants who worked them, hoping that other wealthy landowners would do the same. He implored the merchants of the bazaars to pay their taxes promptly, so that the Government could finance public work projects. When this persuasion failed, the Shah realised that if he was to save his country, and perhaps also his throne, he must act alone and translate his dreams into law.