69: Chapter 66 The Voice of the Persians

Within twenty-four hours of Seyed signing the statement, it was released simultaneously through three channels: the first was sent to major newspapers and radio stations in Tehran; the second was posted on bulletin boards at every oil field and refinery in the province through the Workers Union network; the third was personally taken by Hemmati to Abadan and read aloud at the entrance of the mosque in the workers' residential area.

The document was titled "Khuzestan Province Statement," and its content was divided into four parts:

First, it declared that the various ethnic groups of Khuzestan Province supported the principle of national self-determination and opposed any foreign powers continuing to engage in plunder under the guise of economic cooperation.

Second, it declared that the sovereignty of the province's oil resources was the common position of all ethnic groups in the province, and that no external agreements not recognized by the people of the province would be accepted.

Third, it declared that the province supported freedom of religious belief while insisting on the appropriate separation of religious affairs from state administrative affairs.

Fourth, it declared that the province would maintain administrative order during the current political transition period, ensure that the people's livelihoods were not disrupted, and was willing to engage in dialogue with all national political forces that truly represented the interests of the people of Iran.

The entire document did not contain a single word like "Royal Family," not a single name like "Pahlavi," and not a single explicit political stance label; there was only one core: "The resources of Persia belong to the people of Persia."

Reza knew that this sentence was the most penetrating part of the entire document, because it was not an ideology or a religious slogan, but simply a fact—a fact that every ordinary Iranian who had worked in the oil fields, watched foreign engineers take away most of the profits, and seen their own children unable to even drink clean water, could immediately understand.

The first wave of reactions to the document's release appeared within twenty-four hours.

Of the three major newspapers in Tehran, two published the full text of the statement the next day. The third only published a summary but added an editor's note: "This statement does not represent the position of this newspaper, but we believe it represents an important voice that is currently being ignored."

The reaction of the Workers Union was more direct: oil field workers in Abadan, Kharg Island, and Khorramabad spontaneously organized rallies. The number of people at the first rally exceeded twenty thousand. No one caused trouble; they simply stood there, holding up that sentence printed in the statement: "The resources of Persia belong to the people of Persia."

At the Khorramabad rally, Hemmati stood in front of the crowd. He did not give a speech, but simply read the statement. After he finished, someone in the crowd shouted, "Governor Reza," and then the entire venue began to chant that name.

Hemmati, who was in the crowd at the time, his first reaction was to suppress this momentum, because he knew Reza's strategy—the statement document could not become a tool for personal promotion; it had to maintain the purity of that "collective voice."

But he also knew that suppressing it too hard would hurt morale.

So, after waiting for the chanting to continue for about thirty seconds, he raised his hand, the crowd quieted down, and he said one sentence:

"What His Excellency the Governor has done is to make our voices heard. Now, it is our turn to make this voice carry even further."

This sentence was perfectly stated: it both affirmed Reza's role and pulled the focus back to "us" rather than "him," giving the masses' enthusiasm a more stable focal point.

That night, Reza saw Hemmati's report, drew a line under that sentence, and wrote two words next to it: "Growth."

On January 20th, the first batch of mass-produced Persian-1 Type B missiles completed their final factory tests.

It was not five, but seven—two more than originally planned. This was the extra output brought about by the optimization of the propellant formula after Daoud joined—the conversion rate had increased by eleven percent. When Reza saw that number in the report, he quickly calculated the cost in his mind and said: "This eleven percent means that the range of each missile can be increased by about twenty-three kilometers, or the warhead can be increased by four kilograms."

At the end of the test report for this batch of missiles, Fatima wrote: "The performance of the first batch of mass-produced missiles meets the standards, but storage stability needs to be verified in practice. It is recommended that the first use should not be earlier than two months from now."

Two months later.

Reza found that point in time on the calendar—March.

The time when the Iran-Iraq War would break out.

It was not a coincidence; it was the number he had written in his notebook three years ago: September 1980, Saddam Hussein makes his move.

But before that, there was a six-month window. During these six months, Iran's power structure would complete its reorganization. The list of things Reza had to accomplish in these six months was already densely packed with over thirty items in his notebook, but the most important one was only one:

Before the power reorganization was completed, invite Ayatollah Khomeini into Tehran, and at the same time, embed himself into the structure of the revolution—not from the outside, but from the inside.

On January 21st, Ayatollah Khomeini flew back to Iran from Paris.

He did not go directly to Tehran, but stopped in Qom first, where he issued a brief statement saying: "The sole purpose of my return is to hand Iran over to its true people."

When Reza heard this news in Ahvaz, he was on the phone with Karimi. There was a clear sense of tension in Karimi's voice as it came through from Tehran:

"Ayatollah Khomeini's return has completely ignited the situation in all of Tehran. The atmosphere on the streets now is no longer one of demonstration, but a kind of waiting. Everyone is waiting to see how things will end in Tehran."

"What about Bakhtiar?" Reza asked.

"He is still at the Prime Minister's office," Karimi said, "Yesterday he issued a statement saying, 'This government is legitimate and will perform its duties in accordance with the law until a new democratically elected government is formed,' but no one on the street is listening to him."

Reza hung up the phone and wrote a line in his notebook: "Early February, power transition."

Then he wrote a set of parentheses below it, with only two words inside: "Preparation."

This meant that in about ten days' time, he had to appear in Tehran. He had to accomplish that "specific thing that would let everyone see my position within the first week after the revolution was completed" before Ayatollah Khomeini entered the city.

Reza closed his notebook, closed his eyes, and ran through all the things that needed to be done in the next ten days in his mind. Then he opened his eyes, picked up his pen, and wrote a name on the latest page—a name he had never mentioned to anyone:

"Shapour Bakhtiar."

Not as a target, but as a tool.