"Our Shah or Death!"

With weeping fits, fainting spells, petulant threats to resign, and swift strokes of summary statesmanship, Iran's Premier Mossadegh for nearly two turbulent years had manipulated all before him--the Parliament, the popular will, and the earnest but weak Shah. Last week, the young (33) Shah of Shahs spilled some tears himself, and it was fanatical old Mohammed Mossadegh who had to gasp for breath and fight for his political life.

Mossadegh had apparently decided to bring his growing differences with Shah Mohammed Reza Pahlevi to a head. The Premier was convinced (with reason) that one center of resistance to his rule lay in the Shah's court. He resented the Shah's distribution of royal lands to the poor (because it provoked demands for general land reform), and wanted to ease his financial woes by cutting into the Shah's $720,000-a-year government allotment and his $2,000,000 a year from other sources.

In a stage whisper, Mossadegh complained of court intrigues, threatened to resign and "go to the people" for a showdown. As it had before, the threat won him an invitation to talk it over with the Shah. For four hours the fiery old demagogue and the uncertain young monarch conferred. Quickly the secret got out--Mossadegh had persuaded the Shah to leave Iran--ostensibly for a vacation, possibly as the first step toward abdication.

Popularity Unsuspected. One who heard the news early was Mullah Ayatullah Kashani, the opportunistic, fanatic religious leader who was still smarting over the spanking Mossadegh gave him last January in Parliament. Quickly Kashani alerted his street toughs. When it became public that the Shah would leave the country, Kashani was ready. A paroxysm of protest seized Teheran. The Kashani-influenced bazaars closed down (always a sign of trouble), and Kashani gangs choked the streets shouting, "Our Shah or death!" Kashani, who is Speaker of the Majlis, dispatched a delegation to urge the Shah to stay.

Engulfed suddenly by a popularity he did not know he enjoyed, the young Shah stayed inside the palace while thousands gathered below to shout his praises. Then, dark and regally handsome, he appeared. With tears in his eyes and a sob in his voice, he announced his decision: he would stay with his people.

Pajama Flight. Behind a jeep piloted by a wild Kashani follower named Shahban the Brainless, another crowd roared to the house of Mohammed Mossadegh. Shahban the Brainless rammed the jeep through Mossadegh's green iron gates. The Premier of Iran did not wait to see who was knocking. He bounded from his bed and scooted out the back door, to the nearby compound of the U.S. Point Four program. There he caught his breath, then scurried to the Majlis building. The incongruous, pajama-clad frame of the wrinkled Wizard of Persia burst into the middle of the closed session. Mossadegh announced that he was claiming bast, the traditional privilege of political sanctuary.

Not Finished. All of this was a sudden and smart rebuff for the man who had twisted the tail of the British lion, stood steadfast against the pleadings of the mighty U.S., snatched Iran's caviar out of the mouths of the big Russians and made all Persia his flying carpet.

But Mossadegh was by no means finished and soon grabbed the initiative. He bluntly told Parliament either to vote him its confidence or let Iran's 19 million people decide who is boss. He fired the chief of staff and installed a man of his own in command of the army. In the streets, where so much of contemporary Middle Eastern history is being made, pro-Mossadegh mobs were out to trade epithets and blows with his enemies. "The Shah or death!" cried thousands. "Mossadegh or death!" replied other thousands. Yet a kind of truce seemed to have settled over Teheran at week's end. The crowds seemed more curious and confused than cross.

It was not a power battle between Mossadegh and the Shah. In fact, the Shah meticulously tried to stay out of it. "I haven't done anything against the Premier," he complained. This week, as the din subsided, the man in charge was still canny old Mohammed Mossadegh.

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