On the main street of Tabriz, a new shop opened today.
Unlike its neighbors, it didn’t sell spices or silk, but traded in actual money.
The sign out front read Tabriz Bank.
Local merchants knew it was a place for deposits and loans, except this one was backed directly by the Crown Prince’s office instead of predatory loan sharks.
Naser al-Din injected 500.000 tumans into the vault, letting Lawrence run the day-to-day operations.
The American immediately set to work designing Persia’s first paper currency, standardizing the silver minting process, setting up low-interest loan terms, and opening savings accounts.
His crash-trained local tellers stumbled through their scripts, but the line of eager depositors stretched around the block anyway.
A bank’s primary job is accepting deposits and lending them out, making its money on the interest spread, while reinvesting capital into local industry.
But complex Western banking didn’t quite fit Persian reality, so Naser al-Din introduced a simple tweak: letting anyone open an account for just 5 tumans.
It sounded small, but tiny savings from thousands of citizens added up to a mountain of capital.
Thanks to government backing and attractive perks, over 200 customers conducted business on day one.
Bringing in 250.000 tumans in deposits and taking out 100.000 tumans in commercial loans at a gentle 4,5% interest rate.
In a country where loan sharks routinely demanded over 20%, the bank seemed like a miracle.
Persia was impoverished, lagging far behind even the struggling Ottoman Empire.
A single branch in Tabriz was just the beginning; Tehran held vastly more wealth.
To boost local manufacturing, the bank also offered special low-interest business loans to anyone willing to build a factory.
“Your Highness, the bank’s grand opening was a massive success, and crowds of entrepreneurs are already applying for startup capital,” Amir Kabir reported to Naser al-Din.
Naser al-Din nodded thoughtfully.
“This is our first step toward pulling Persia out of poverty.
Don’t be fooled by the Ottomans’ grand imperial facade, because their reforms only touched the surface while the common people remained trapped in the past.” Amir Kabir agreed, realizing Persia couldn’t blindly copy Istanbul; it had to unite its people and forge its own distinct path.
To prevent future religious backlash, Naser al-Din invited three senior Islamic scholars, four regional advisors, and key intellectuals—including himself and Amir Kabir—to form a nine-member Consultative Council to guide regional reforms.
With the bank running smoothly, Naser al-Din turned his attention to a detailed model of a steam locomotive sitting on his desk, a personal gift from British Minister Justin Sheil.
A few months earlier, Sheil had handed Naser al-Din a wooden crate.
“A personal gift for Your Highness, please open it.” Inside lay a intricate metal replica of an iron steam engine.
“What is this?” Naser al-Din had asked, eyeing the contraption.
“It’s called a steam locomotive, Your Highness,” Sheil had explained smoothly.
“It’s a revolutionary form of transport sweeping across Europe that runs on nothing but water and coal, moving faster than a thoroughbred horse.” “Impossible!” Amir Kabir had blurted out, baffled by the claim.
“I assure you it is real,” Sheil had replied.
“Once you lay iron tracks, a train like this could make the journey from Tabriz to Tehran in just two days.” Two days?
Amir Kabir had stood in complete disbelief, since even the fastest royal courier took at least two weeks to ride that distance.
“Your Highness, the students currently on their way to study in London will soon witness this history-changing invention with their own eyes,” Sheil had added.
Back in the present, Naser al-Din understood the transformative power of railways, but the astronomical construction costs meant a full national network had to wait.
“The British minister wasn’t exaggerating,” Naser al-Din told Amir Kabir.
“An iron engine that cuts a two-week trip down to two days would transform Persia overnight.” Amir Kabir had initially scoffed at the idea, but after reviewing European engineering reports, he recognized the reality of steam power, provided they built the specialized iron rails first.
“That is true, Your Highness, but laying track requires massive capital and will anger traditional transport guilds,” Amir Kabir noted.
“Building a long-distance line right now is simply unrealistic.” “Then we start small!” Naser al-Din countered decisively.
“We build a short line from Tabriz to Ardabil first.
Surely that is manageable?” Naser al-Din was determined to lay down track, and the route to Ardabil served a dual purpose beyond trade.
Ardabil was the historical birthplace of the Safavid Dynasty and sat just 40 kilometers from the Russian border, meaning the line would move troops as quickly as commercial freight.
“Shall I submit the proposal to the Consultative Council for a vote?” Amir Kabir asked.
“By all means,” Naser al-Din replied, knowing that while absolute royal authority had its perks, consulting local leaders built lasting support.
Just then, a royal attendant announced the arrival of an exhausted courier from Tehran.
Naser al-Din urged the man inside immediately, anxious for news about his father’s failing health.
“Your Highness…” the messenger gasped, dropping to one knee.
“Speak!
What news from the Shah?” Naser al-Din demanded.
“His Imperial Majesty has issued a decree appointing you governor over the three northern provinces of Gilan, Mazandaran, and Bakhtaran!” Naser al-Din stared in shock, relaxing only when he verified his father’s official royal seal on the parchment.
These northern lands were the richest in Persia, especially Mazandaran along the Caspian coast, famous for its lush climate and abundant harvests.
“How did my father know I was running low on funds?” Naser al-Din mused, before looking back at the messenger.
“What is happening at court?” The courier explained that Ottoman envoys were aggressively demanding a new border treaty in Tehran.
“Our nations have traded blows since the Safavid era,” Naser al-Din noted dryly.
“The Ottomans built up their army using European advisers, and now they smell weakness in Tehran and want concessions.” Naser al-Din scoffed in disdain.
“The Sultan is a paper tiger who lost Greece and got humiliated by Egypt, surviving only because London keeps him on life support.” “We don’t need to waste time negotiating with Istanbul; we just need to talk to the British.” With three rich new provinces handed to him by his father, Naser al-Din resolved to put every single tuman to work.