The Weekend of Crisis

The Shah averts a showdown as a parade of protest ends peacefully

Hour after hour they marched westward along Tehran's Shahreza Avenue. In an extraordinary demonstration of solidarity, hundreds of thousands of Iranians last Sunday protested against the 37-year reign of Shah Mohammed Reza Pahlavi. Men waved their fists and responded to their leaders' rhythmic chants of "Allah Akbar" (God is great). Women in traditional black chadors, some clutching children, carried banners ("We want an Islamic republic"). The marchers were militant in support of their exiled religious leader, Ayatullah Khomeini, but they were also disciplined and peaceful. Army and police were nowhere in evidence along the route of the parade; marshals wearing white arm bands kept the vast crowd under control.

The demonstration came near the climax of the holy month of Muharram, on which Iran's devout Shi'ite Muslims traditionally take to the streets in a frenzy of self-flagellation to mourn the Prophet Muhammad's grandson Husain, who was martyred in the 7th century. This year the critical days, Sunday and Monday, had a special meaning: they were to be the occasion for mass protests against the Shah. From his headquarters outside Paris, Khomeini called again for a general strike and the Shah's downfall. "Paralyze the regime," he urged the faithful. "Flee your barracks," he advised the army.

The current period of crisis could still prove to be Iran's Armageddon. But all last week there were encouraging signs that the Shah's desperate attempt to keep the situation under control might succeed. Manning a bank of telephones at Tehran's well-guarded Niavaran Palace, he ordered army commanders to keep down the civilian death toll, something they have not always tried to do in the past. He announced the release of 122 political prisoners, including Karim Sanjabi, leader of the opposition National Front, who had been arrested a month earlier after visiting Khomeini in France.

Since September, all political activity has been banned by the military government of Premier Gholam Reza Azhari, an army general. In an effort to avoid a bloodbath, the Shah finally decreed that the government would consider the protest parade a legal demonstration of national mourning. By exercising such restraint, he tacitly acknowledged that, for the moment, the opposition forces controlled the streets. More important, he averted the risk of having the huge parade turn into a battle. Whether he also increased the chances of his own political survival remains to be seen.

In Washington, meanwhile, the Carter Administration was belatedly trying to cope with the grim prospect that one of the West's staunchest and most strategically placed allies might be on the verge of collapse. Ever since serious popular unrest first broke out in Iran last August, the Administration had been voicing its support for the Shah and its confidence that he could prevail. Scarcely a year ago, in fact, the President had been busy planning his first big overseas trip; one of its high points was an elegant New Year's Eve celebration with the Shah in Tehran. Last week, when asked whether he thought the Shah could survive, Jimmy Carter sounded noticeably guarded, probably more so than he intended. "I don't know," he replied. "I hope so." The U.S. would not get "directly involved," the President emphasized, adding carefully, "We personally prefer that the Shah maintain a major role in the government, but that is a decision for the Iranian people to make." Later, when it became obvious that the President had damned the Shah with faint praise, the White House insisted that U.S. policy toward Iran was not indecisive and had not changed.

As a kind of first step in contingency planning, however, the U.S. was quietly asking several other oil-producing countries whether they would be able to increase their petroleum output in case Iran's production dwindled even further than it had already. At week's end a strike by oil workers had cut the country's normal daily production of 6 million bbl. to about half that total. Then, at the suggestion of National Security Adviser Zbigniew Brzezinski, the President invited George Ball, an Under Secretary of State in both the Kennedy and Johnson administrations, to join the National Security Council temporarily as a special consultant. His job: to prepare a long-range option paper on Iran and the Persian Gulf.

Administration aides bristled when asked if Ball was in fact working on a blueprint for a "post-Shah Iran," but that surely was part of his assignment. Another part: to ponder the impact of Iran's instability on nearby Saudi Arabia. U.S. officials are exceedingly worried about the vulnerability of this sparsely populated, semifeudal monarchy, which possesses the world's largest proven oil reserves (150 billion bbl.). Admits one Administration official: "It gives me the willies just thinking about Saudi Arabia."

For the moment, U.S. policy on Iran was in a state of utter perplexity. One measure of how sensitive the situation was: neither Secretary of State Cyrus Vance, en route to the Middle East, nor most other high-level Administration officials wanted to say anything at all on the subject--on or off the record. Over the past few months, the U.S. has offered a variety of suggestions to the Shah, all designed to encourage him to press on with his liberalization campaign. For the long term, the Administration tends to favor the idea of a transition to constitutional monarchy in Iran, with the Shah retaining a unifying, if largely symbolic role. But right now the Administration is refraining from making suggestions; it realizes at last that the Shah is in mortal danger and has his hands full just trying to maintain order.

At the back of the President's mind, of course, was the potentially meddlesome role that the Soviet Union might play in the troubled region--especially now that it has a new client state in nearby Afghanistan (see following story). A month ago Soviet President Leonid Brezhnev issued a brisk warning to the effect that U.S. military intervention in Iran would be considered a "matter affecting the security interests" of the U.S.S.R. Although nobody in Washington would say so, one U.S. contingency plan must surely involve the use of U.S. troops, if necessary, to safeguard an evacuation of American citizens from Iran. In such an event, the White House would undoubtedly be on the hot line to Moscow to explain what those troops were up to. Just as surely, the Soviets would declare a military alert along their 1,250-mile border with Iran--as they did when Brezhnev issued his warning last month.

In Tehran, the sense of growing siege was everywhere. Tanks and other armor were strategically placed around the Shah's walled palace, which lies at the foot of the snowcapped Elburz Mountains. Many stores and banks were closed, and the queues at gas-station pumps were getting longer and longer.

In the industrial city of Isfahan, 210 miles south of Tehran, a hit-and-run mob of about 1,000 people ransacked and burned two banks and a movie theater, and then set fire to the four-story administration building of the Grumman Aircraft Corp. Grumman's 300 U.S. employees in Iran are training pilots, crews and maintenance personnel for the F-14 fighter planes recently delivered to the Iranian air force. No Americans were injured in the melee, but four Iranians were killed by soldiers.

Throughout most of the week, airport lounges and hotel lobbies were jammed with foreigners, mostly women and children, who were frantically trying to get out of the country. Some were leaving for good; others hoped to return following the Christmas holidays if things settle down. After weeks of political unrest, many were on the verge of panic. "We're not taking any chances," said an American woman in the lobby of the Tehran Hilton. "We've had death threats and abuse, and we've just had enough."

When Iran's latest crisis began, the American embassy in Tehran urged U.S. residents of the country to be cautious and to stay indoors during periods of high tension. But the embassy discouraged Americans from leaving Iran in large numbers, lest it appear that U.S. confidence in the Shah's regime was flagging. This view was pressed by U.S. Ambassador William Sullivan, who believed that Americans should maintain a cool, business-as-usual posture, especially during the emotion-charged holy days. Last week U.S. policy changed abruptly--at the behest of George Ball, it was reported--and the Administration announced that Americans in Iran were free to leave whenever they wished; the U.S. would pay the fares, it added, of Government employees and their families.

At least 8,000 foreigners have left Iran so far, including an estimated 5,000 Americans, and thousands of prosperous Iranians have joined the departing throng. As a result, Tehran airport was in chaos last week as hordes of would-be passengers scrambled for whatever seats were available. One Boeing 707 took off with two dozen passengers standing in the aisles, and a few U.S. Air Force cargo jets were temporarily used for passengers. At least two American companies chartered planes after the scheduled airlines reported their flights fully booked. Toward the end of the week, the airport quieted down, if only because most commercial flights in and out of the city for the next few days had been canceled. With a back-up of military dependents anxious to leave, the Defense Department sent five C-141 transports to Tehran to speed the evacuation.

Every night last week, as dusk fell in the Iranian capital, city dwellers hurried home through monumental traffic jams to beat the 9 p.m. curfew. As the curfew began, a strange cacophony of religious chants ("There is no god but Allah") and political slogans ("Death to the Shah!") filled the city. Some of the voices were live; others were broadcast by tape into the chilly night from stereo speakers perched on window ledges. Many of these tapes contained the staccato chatter of automatic-weapons fire, a new twist in the war of nerves being waged by the Shah's many opponents against supporters of his regime. Troops guarding the city had an answer: when they grew tired of the broadcast wailing and the simulated weapons fire, they silenced it by pulling the power plug in one section of the city or another.

As the weekend drew nearer, mullahs throughout the country repeated the inflammatory messages of Ayatullah Khomeini, mixing religious exhortations with anti-Shah diatribes. Worshipers were urged to break the curfew in defiance of the Shah's authority. Partly as a result, at least 20 demonstrators were shot and killed by police and soldiers in Tehran last week; in the town of Zanjan, ten were slain as they attacked police with curved double-edged swords.

Under the Shah's orders, the military government of Premier Azhari tried hard to calm things down. Instead of firing directly into crowds, as they often do, soldiers were ordered to use tear gas and to shoot over the heads of demonstrators. The government's aim, Azhari told reporters, was to "return calm to the country and to restore law-and-order." He insisted that the Shah's rule was "not in danger at all." He blamed the current troubles on "atheists and saboteurs who are tools of foreigners," presumably meaning the Soviet Union. One such tool was Ayatullah Khomeini, he continued, though even the mullah would be welcomed back to Iran if he would behave himself.

Azhari maintained that the Shah retained the support of the "silent people," the majority of his countrymen. The truth, however, is that much of the Shah's support has evaporated, except among the military, the well-to-do and the peasants. The country is staggering under a burden of rampaging inflation (current rate: 50% annually) and economic chaos engendered by the Shah's feverish efforts to modernize his backward nation within the space of a decade or two. There is no responsible opposition, his critics claim, because he has banned political expression for 25 years. The result is a political vacuum that has gradually been filled by fanatic fundamentalists like Khomeini--and will perhaps be filled, eventually, by leftist extremists.

Despite the Shah's widespread unpopularity, there were indications last week that some of his opponents might still be willing to reach some kind of compromise with him. After his release from detention, National Front Leader Sanjabi, 73, a social democrat, denied speculation that he might help form a coalition government; this would be impossible, he said, under "existing conditions." He proceeded to describe Sunday's mass demonstration in Tehran as a "referendum in the streets" that would lead, he hoped, to a "true referendum to determine the kind of government Iran is to have." He did not say the Shah must first resign.

Even more interesting was a manifesto prepared by Ahmad Baniahmad, 46, the only real opposition member of Iran's 268-seat parliament. The manifesto, backed by a group of 400 professional people known as the Union for Liberty, calls for formation of a provisional government made up of political and religious leaders, followed by elections, an end to martial law, and the establishment of a true constitutional monarchy as envisioned by Iran's 72-year-old constitution. "There is no other solution," said Baniahmad. "This will enable the Shah to save face and to remain monarch, and it will reduce tensions throughout the country."

Significantly, a number of Iranian religious leaders also favor the proposal. And, though most of them look for leadership to the exiled Khomeini, some do not agree with his basic position that the Shah must go before anything else can be discussed. One such moderate mullah is Abdul Reza Hejazi, 42, who has suddenly become a political figure of some importance. "At the moment," said Hejazi, surrounded by rich red Persian carpets in his Tehran living room, which provided a sharp contrast to his severe black robe and turban, "one side is shooting and the other is screaming. We must find a way to create a cease-fire to give the Shah a chance to prove what he is promising." In the long run, Hejazi believes, the Shah might stay on as a constitutional ruler. "But what we have in mind is an Islamic democratic government," he continued. "The mullahs would not actually serve in the government, but when the people ask for recommendations, we would suggest appropriate people for positions of political leadership."

The peaceful conclusion of Sunday's giant parade seemed to imply that some of the steam had been taken out of the protest movement, thereby creating a climate for serious political talks between the Shah and the moderate opposition. "Iran is like a pressure cooker," an American who has lived there for eight years remarked early last week. "When things build up, the Shah lets off a little steam and things cool down." Now, he added, "I wonder if the whole thing isn't going to blow up." The restraint shown by both the Shah and his opponents during the weekend demonstrations suggests that the situation is not yet hopeless.

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