Amir Kabir’s logical framing successfully softened Ayatollah Mirza’s stance.
However, Mirza firmly insisted that the crown prince consult the clergy on all major state matters, a condition Amir Kabir accepted on the spot.
As for the proposed state bank, Mirza offered neither a firm green light nor an explicit veto, signaling a cautious, silent compromise.
Deep down, the Ulama wished to see Persia grow strong, yet the sudden flood of Western concepts left them deeply uneasy.
Several senior clerics argued that blindly copying European customs would destroy their heritage, advocating instead for preserving Persian traditions while adopting foreign technology.
They pointed out that while the neighboring Ottomans had modernized rapidly, they had lost their cultural soul by copying Europe wholesale—a trap Persia had to avoid at all costs.
If Persia was to forge a path forward, it had to be a path rooted in its own cultural identity.
With the meeting concluded, the clerics departed, leaving behind a joint petition for Naser al-Din.
They promised to back his administration so long as he protected Persian culture, warning him that if he swallowed European advice whole, he shouldn’t blame them for turning against the throne.
Persia’s civilizational roots—stretching through the Afshar, Safavid, and Timurid dynasties, and back to the ancient Achaemenid, Parthian, and Sassanid empires—were far richer than Ottoman history.
Like the ancient empires of the Far East, this deep heritage was a point of immense pride, yet it also acted as a formidable roadblock to radical reform.
Unlike the young United States, which lacked centuries of entrenched feudal tradition and could pivot overnight, reforming an ancient empire was an uphill battle.
With the religious protest defused, Lawrence rolled out a detailed blueprint for the central bank.
His plan went beyond note issuance, requiring heavy capital investment to import modern European minting machinery for gold and silver coinage.
As calm returned to Tabriz, subtle economic shifts began taking root across the city.
Russian merchants found their imported textiles sitting unsold on shop shelves, forcing them to pivot to buying high-end Persian carpets to stay afloat.
Meanwhile, government pamphlets appeared across every alley in Tabriz, urging local citizens to invest in domestic factories and learn technical trades.
“If every citizen does their part for family and country, Persia will reclaim its rightful place among nations,” one broadsheet read.
“The West used machinery to build immense wealth in a matter of years, so we must use machinery to shield our markets and strengthen our trade,” declared another.
The publicity push delivered immediate results, bringing in over 500.000 tumans in new commercial orders.
This surge was driven by local merchants, state officials, and native trade agents who, despite profiting from foreign trade, harbored deep resentment toward Russian arrogance and longed to see foreign dominance broken.
A British steamship glided smoothly into the London docks, dropping anchor as more than a hundred foreign passengers stepped onto the wooden piers.
Wearing traditional Middle Eastern turbans and long robes, the travelers drew curious stares from dockworkers who mistook them for Ottoman merchants.
Sadiq scanned the bustling harbor, taking in the alien landscape with wide-eyed curiosity.
A heavy industrial stench of coal smoke filled the cold air, marking the city that would serve as their home for the next few years.
Their long journey from Persia had taken them by land to Antioch, where they boarded a Mediterranean steamer with brief layovers in Naples and Gibraltar.
At Gibraltar, the group split up: one contingent headed for France to study military science, while Sadiq and his cohort continued on to England to study economics, finance, and law.
Recognizing these young men as key assets for bringing Persia into London’s diplomatic orbit, the British government arranged admissions for them at the University of London, with top candidates bound for Oxford and Cambridge.
Before classes commenced, the students were allowed to explore the imperial capital, provided they minded their manners and avoided running afoul of the local police.
Instead of sightseeing, however, the young men spent their first days holed up in their lodgings, studying English from dawn to dusk.
Wandering into the streets without speaking the local tongue was a recipe for public embarrassment, so they resolved to master the language before stepping out.
Out of the 125 students sent to the United Kingdom, their studies covered agriculture, mining, engineering, literature, and law, with programs lasting anywhere from four to six years.
Unlike his classmates, Abdullah had not yet set foot in England.
His mission required him to visit Austria first, as it was the closest major European power on their overland itinerary.
The Persian delegation traveled by boat to Venice, where the pristine canals and historic architecture captivated the travelers before industrial pollution could spoil its charm.
“Welcome to Austria, gentlemen!” Prince Klemens von Metternich, the Foreign Minister and Chancellor of the Austrian Empire, personally traveled to Venice to greet Abdullah and his suite.
The mastermind of the Vienna System made the journey himself as part of a geopolitical strategy to keep the Ottoman Empire in check.
Austria held deep territorial ambitions over Ottoman-controlled Bosnia and the vassal Danubian Principalities, making an alliance with Persia an attractive prospect for opening a two-front strategic squeeze on Istanbul.
Diplomatic ties between the House of Habsburg and the Persian court went back centuries.
During the Safavid era, Shah Ismail I had exchanged letters with Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, and Persian invasions had repeatedly forced the Ottomans to divert troops away from European battlefields.
By opening a second front during the Ottoman-Habsburg wars, Persia had repeatedly relieved military pressure on Vienna—a historic precedent Metternich was eager to revive.
“We are deeply honored by Your Highness’s personal welcome,” Abdullah bowed politely.
“We place the remainder of our journey in your capable hands.” Receiving a personal welcome from the Chancellor of the Austrian Empire was a staggering honor for a regional delegation.
Metternich knew that cultivating ties with the crown prince’s personal envoys promised rich diplomatic dividends down the road.
Although Austria lagged behind Britain in raw industrial output, industrialization was accelerating rapidly across the empire, with steam-powered factories sprouting up around Venice, Vienna, and Prague.
Abdullah and his team toured local textile mills and glassworks in Venice, as well as a state-run primary school.
“How much fabric can a mill like this produce in a single month?” Deputy Finance Minister Hussein asked a factory manager during their tour.
“Put it this way,” the manager replied with a grin.
“It would take thirty thousand hand-weavers working day and night for an entire year to match what this single building produces annually.” Hussein and his aides stood in speechless shock.
The output of one automated factory equaled the hand-woven labor of the entire population of Tabriz working non-stop for a year—a level of productivity they knew Persia had to adopt.
Their subsequent visit to local schools revealed a stark contrast with Persian education.
Where Persian schools focused heavily on Islamic theology, Austrian academies prioritized natural sciences, mathematics, and grammar, keeping religious instruction in a secondary role.
Hariri watched the classroom lessons in horrified silence, barely suppressing his urge to decry the secular curriculum as outright heresy.
His dismay only deepened after observing local court proceedings, where civil laws were administered directly by state judges rather than religious clerics.
In Persia, Shia scholars maintained an absolute monopoly over both education and the legal system.
Seeing European governments strip the clergy of these powers made Hariri realize just how explosive these modernizing reforms would be back home.