19: Chapter 19 Isfahan

In September 1977, Reza did something he had been planning for half a year—personally visiting Isfahan.

This time, it was not a secret operation.

He traveled under the official guise of "Provincial Governor inspecting agricultural cooperative projects," bringing a twelve-person entourage—six were guards, and the remaining six were "escorts" from the Khuzestan Province Department of Agriculture.

Isfahan is Iran's third-largest city, the historical capital of the Safavid Dynasty, and a major hub for Iranian industry and culture.

More importantly—Isfahan houses the largest steel mill in Iran, built with aid from the Soviet Union.

Reza did not come to Isfahan to see the steel mill.

He came to find one person.

Ayatollah Hussein-Ali Montazeri.

In past history, Montazeri was the second-ranking religious leader in the Iranian Islamic Revolution, second only to Ayatollah Khomeini.

He was the successor handpicked by Ayatollah Khomeini—until 1989, when he was deposed by Ayatollah Khomeini for opposing the mass execution of political prisoners.

The fundamental difference between Montazeri and Ayatollah Khomeini was that Ayatollah Khomeini wanted absolute theocratic rule, while Montazeri advocated for "limited clerical rule"—where religion guides the political direction but does not interfere with daily administration.

In modern terms, Ayatollah Khomeini was an extreme conservative, and Montazeri was a pragmatic reformer.

At this point in 1977, Montazeri had not yet become Ayatollah Khomeini's successor.

He was merely an influential mid-level cleric in the Isfahan region, under house arrest in a mosque in the suburbs of Isfahan for publicly criticizing the Pahlavi Government.

SAVAK rated him as a "moderate threat"—two levels lower than Ayatollah Khomeini.

This was exactly what Reza needed.

People with too high a threat level—such as Ayatollah Khomeini himself—were surrounded by SAVAK informants, making contact extremely risky.

People with too low a threat level lacked influence and were not worth winning over.

Montazeri was right in the middle: he had enough religious appeal, but had not yet been monitored so heavily that he was inaccessible.

Moreover—Montazeri's "pragmatic reformist" stance fit perfectly with Reza's plan.

Reza did not want to let Iran turn into an Ayatollah Khomeini-style theocratic state.

He needed the support of religious forces to overthrow the Pahlavi Dynasty, but after the revolution succeeded, religion had to retreat to the mosques and could not interfere with military and economic decision-making.

Montazeri was the one who could help him achieve this goal.

The problem was—how to contact a cleric under house arrest without being discovered by SAVAK?

The answer was unexpectedly simple.

Although Montazeri was under house arrest, "house arrest" in Iran was not quite the same as the Western concept.

He could not leave Isfahan, could not preach publicly, and could not publish articles.

But he could receive "visitors"—as long as the visitors were not known anti-government figures.

SAVAK would record the identities of all visitors, but a member of the royal family visiting a cleric—this was perfectly normal in Iranian culture.

The Persian nobility had a long-standing tradition of "seeking counsel" from religious scholars, and the Pahlavi Dynasty was no exception.

The Pahlavi King himself would symbolically visit several Grand Ayatollahs every year.

To SAVAK intelligence analysts, a cadet-branch prince visiting a mid-level cleric could only have one possible explanation: this playboy prince was engaging in formalism again, just putting on a show for the locals.

Reza was using this "stereotype" as cover.

The afternoon of September 14.

The eastern suburbs of Isfahan, Jameh Mosque.

Reza's motorcade stopped outside the mosque.

He took only Hassan inside with him.

The rest waited outside.

The mosque was not large, but it was well-maintained.

In the courtyard stood an old walnut tree said to be three hundred years old, its shade covering nearly half the courtyard.

Several old rugs were laid under the tree, and two seminary students sat on them, reciting scriptures.

Montazeri received him in his study on the second floor.

Fifty-five years old, medium build, wearing old-fashioned round-rimmed glasses, with graying but neatly trimmed facial hair.

He wore a dark brown aba (clerical robe) and a black turban on his head—signifying that he was a descendant of the Prophet Muhammad, a "Sayyid."

His first sentence was not polite pleasantries.

"People from the Pahlavi family coming to see me is usually not a good thing."

The tone was lukewarm, but with an underlying sting.

Reza smiled: "What if I said I didn't come as a member of the Pahlavi family?"

"Then in what capacity?"

"As a Persian."

Montazeri's eyebrows twitched slightly.

"Sit." He pointed to the cushion opposite him.

After Reza sat down, he did not rush to discuss business.

He first asked about Montazeri's health—the cleric had problems with his lumbar spine, caused by long periods of sitting.

Then he asked about the mosque's repair needs—the roof was leaking, and the maintenance funds allocated by the provincial government had been siphoned off by intermediaries.

These were the fruits of preliminary intelligence work.

Hassan had spent two months using the mosque network to learn the details of Montazeri's life.

Montazeri was not the type of person who could be bought with money.

But someone who understood his daily difficulties and was willing to help him solve practical problems could at least win his "attention."

"I can arrange for a construction crew from Khuzestan Province to repair the roof," Reza said. "It won't go through the provincial government's accounts; it will come out of my personal funds."

Montazeri glanced at him.

"What do you want?"

Straightforward. The difference between a cleric and a politician—clerics don't beat around the bush.

"I want to hear your views on the current situation in Iran."

"My views are all in the SAVAK files. You don't need to run all the way to Isfahan to hear them."

"The SAVAK files only contain what you have said. I want to know what you haven't said."

A hint of interest appeared in Montazeri's eyes.

After a few seconds of silence, he spoke.

"You want to hear the truth?"

"Yes."

"Iran is heading toward a cliff. The King has turned the entire country into an American gas station. Seventy percent of oil revenue is used to buy American weapons—those weapons aren't used to protect Iran; they're used to protect the King himself. His 'White Revolution' drove farmers off their land but provided them with no way out in the cities. Tehran now has a slum population of two million, and the unemployment rate exceeds thirty percent."

When Montazeri spoke, his voice was neither high nor low, but every word was like a nail.

"Ayatollah Khomeini is right—this regime must end. But..."

He paused.

"But what?"

"But I do not believe that after overthrowing one tyrant, another tyranny should be established."

The weight of this statement, Montazeri himself might not have realized.

But Reza heard it—this was the first appearance of that crack between Montazeri and Ayatollah Khomeini.

In public, Montazeri was Ayatollah Khomeini's staunchest supporter.

But in private, he had reservations about Ayatollah Khomeini's concept of "absolute clerical rule."

Past history proved this.

In 1989, Montazeri publicly opposed Ayatollah Khomeini's order to execute thousands of political prisoners, was deposed as successor, and was placed under house arrest.

It took him twelve years to reach that step of an open break.

But in 1977, the crack already existed.

It was just still very small.

What Reza needed to do was to let this crack slowly widen.

"Ayatollah," he said, "if one day Iran really undergoes a regime change—what do you think the new Iran should look like?"

Montazeri pondered for a long time.

"An independent nation with faith, with dignity, that is not a vassal to any great power. Religion guides moral and spiritual direction, but governing a country requires professionals—soldiers manage the military, engineers manage construction, and economists manage finance. Clerics should not manage things they do not understand."

This was almost exactly the same as Reza's vision.

It was not a coincidence.

Montazeri's political philosophy had been fully recorded in academic works from his past life.

Reza chose him precisely because he knew his stance.

"If there were such an Iran," Reza said, "would you be willing to support it?"

Montazeri took off his glasses and slowly wiped the lenses.

"You are a member of the royal family. You are asking me if I am willing to support the cause of overthrowing the royal family. Don't you think that is contradictory?"

"The interests of Persia are higher than the interests of the royal family. Higher than the interests of any family, any sect, or any individual."

Montazeri put his glasses back on and looked straight into Reza's eyes.

This time, he saw the same thing that Ames had seen—that cold, superhuman certainty.

"Young man, you are serious."

"Yes."

"Do you know you are doing something that could cost you your life?"

"I know."

Montazeri was silent for about half a minute.

Then he extended his hand.

"I will not make any promises. But—if one day you need me to speak, come find me. I will listen to what you have to say, and then make my own judgment."

Reza grasped that dry, calloused hand.

This was not an alliance.

This was a door being pushed open a crack.

A crack wide enough to let the light shine in.

After returning to Khuzestan, Reza wrote down three names in his notebook.

Tehran: Professor Mortazavi. Contact established.

Isfahan: Montazeri. Initial contact completed.

Tabriz: Pending.

Three cities. Three fulcrums. Three forces—intellectuals, religious reformists, and the one represented by Tabriz...

Tabriz is an area inhabited by the Azerbaijani ethnic group.

The political ecology there is different from the Persian heartland—nationalist colors are stronger, and there is long-standing dissatisfaction with Tehran's central authority.

Winning over Tabriz cannot rely on religion or intellectuals; it must rely on promises of "national autonomy."

This is the most sensitive card.

Promising too much would lead to national disintegration, while promising too little would fail to win their support.

But this card must be played.

Because when the revolution broke out in 1978, Tabriz was the first city to rise up.

"Leave it for last." Reza drew a question mark after "Tabriz."

Then he flipped to another page in the notebook, on which a timeline was drawn.

End of 1977: Gyroscopes arrive. Upgrade guidance system for Persia-1 Type missiles.

Spring 1978: Political network completes layout in three cities. Circulation of "Voice of Persia" exceeds five thousand copies.

Summer 1978: Military strength meets targets—twenty missiles, three thousand landmines, five thousand militia.

Autumn 1978: ——

The column for Autumn 1978 only had two words written in it.

"Act."