Invitation to Chaos

One morning last week, Ahmad Matin Daftary, Premier Mohammed Mossadeq's son-in-law and chief strategist of the Majlis temporary Oil Nationalization Board, loped along the corridors of Anglo-Iranian's low, yellow brick headquarters in Khorramshahr, twelve miles from Abadan. An associate, Nassir Gholi Ardalan, hurried behind. Beaming, Daftary said: "We're moving into our new offices, upstairs." They marched into the rooms of General Manager Eric Drake, who had gone to Basra, Iraq, 40 miles away, because he feared arrest on trumped-up "sabotage" charges. In Drake's office, they confronted Assistant General Manager Alec Mason and five other top British executives. "Ah, gentlemen," said Mason, "you have come to talk with us?" "No," said Daftary, "we've just come to move into Mr. Drake's office since he's not coming back." Said Mason to a reporter as he walked out: "Well, they have just taken the last plunge."

The Iranians sat around Drake's desk like excited children. "You cannot imagine how happy I am," said Ardalan. "I voted for the nationalization bill. Now I sit at Mr. Drake's desk."

Hardly were the Iranians seated before they began to see that it took more than a desk to manage a company. All of Anglo-Iranian's 2,700 British employees--the top technical staff--crisply rejected the Iranian appeal to stay on at the same wages and work for the new Iranian National Oil Co.

The Tankers Weighed Anchor. In the boiling-hot port of Abadan, British tankers, ready to leave the harbor, pumped their oil cargoes back into the brimming storage tanks of the great refinery. They had refused to sign receipts acknowledging that the oil belonged to the new company. The Iranian hope that foreign tankers would move in vanished as the international oil fraternity set up a united front. Somehow, there wasn't a tanker--Norwegian, Swedish or Greek--to be chartered. Captains commanding U.S. and Norwegian tankers already in port refused to sign the receipts, weighed anchor and steamed off.

The foreign technicians Iran had so confidently expected when it started its expropriation spree were nowhere in sight. The Dutch, appealed to for assistance, told Iran to go fly a kite. Some Italian technicians tried to make a deal, but it came to nothing. Instead of helping Teheran, U.S. oil companies, assisted by Washington's suspension of antitrust laws, began pooling their resources, prepared to make oil deliveries to Iranian's old customers.

Now the squeeze was on Mossadeq. His strategy--expel the company, keep the technicians--failed, as the British determined to clear out, and let the Iranians simmer in their oil until they came around. The old Premier tried concessions. Radio Teheran announced that Mossadeq was suspending plans to rush through an anti-sabotage bill (which would, in effect, have made the British responsible for any accidents during the takeover). Mossadeq dispatched a letter to President Truman asking "the great and esteemed American nation" for understanding and "help." But Secretary of State Dean Acheson had already outlined the U.S. attitude by charging Iran with "threat and fear" tactics.

The British closed ranks. Prime Minister Clement Attlee talked with Opposition Leaders Winston Churchill and Anthony

Eden, explained that the government had no intention of moving forces into Iran merely to protect oil installations, was reported to have won their tacit agreement. Foreign Secretary Herbert Morrison announced to a cheering House of Commons that Iran would be held responsible for the safety of British nationals, reported the dispatch of the 8,000-ton cruiser Mauritius, mounting nine 6-inch guns, to lie off the port of Abadan.

The Crates Were Packed. In Abadan, the last planeloads of British women & children flew out. The word to evacuate would probably come soon. In London, Basil R. Jackson, Anglo-Iranian's deputy chairman, said: "They're just going to have to learn from bitter experience that they can't handle it [operating the fields and the refinery]." Abadan was already slowed down to 45% of its 500,000-bbl. daily capacity. Another 20 days, even of reduced output, and the tanks would be full and the great shutdown would come. Reluctant to finally slam the door, the British delayed their departure from hour to hour.

But as the week ended, the room left for maneuver and compromise had almost vanished. Now, even if Mossadeq wanted to, and he didn't, he dared not back down. Nationalization was still a highly popular slogan in Iran. The Communists-inspired Tudeh Party had easily whipped up 10,000 demonstrators in Teheran to shout "Death to Truman" and "Death to [U.S. Ambassador Henry] Grady." At the first sign of government weakness, the extremists would try to take over. But if the government didn't back down, its essential oil revenues would dry up and chaos would take over.

The British plan to teach Iran a lesson was equally chancy. While the economic chaos following Abadan's shutdown might force Iran's government to terms, the chaos would just as easily give the Tudeh the opening it was alerted for.

Karim Hamzavi, Iranian information official, said: "Yes, all is confused. How it will be settled, I don't know. It all depends on the Americans." Told he couldn't count on the U.S., Hamzavi sighed, said: "Then there are the Russians." Yes, there were the Russians. The Kremlin was in line for a prize far greater than Korea.

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