Even with grand ambitions, a ruler remains helpless without money.
Just as they were pondering their options, a loud commotion broke out outside the governor’s mansion.
Neither of them knew what was causing the disturbance.
Amir Kabir glanced out the window and saw a growing crowd protesting right at their doorstep.
“What on earth is happening out there?” Nasser al-Din asked, looking up.
“Your Highness, please do not worry,” Amir replied calmly.
“I will step outside and take a look.” Outside the gate, hundreds of local citizens were raising their fists and shouting slogans.
They were protesting the massive market dumping of cheap foreign imports.
The British Consul in Tabriz, Richard White Stevens, stood near the edge of the crowd, watching the drama unfold with great curiosity.
He was eager to see how the Governor-General of Azerbaijan would handle the riot, having heard the governor was just a boy.
In 19th-century Europe, a boy of that age would already be putting in twelve-hour shifts inside a textile mill.
Stevens silently smirked, thinking how much more independent British youth were compared to spoiled royal princes.
“Stop foreign goods from flooding our markets!” a protester screamed.
“We can’t survive like this anymore!” “Business has been terrible these past few years, and our local taxes keep rising!” another yelled.
“We are on the very brink of bankruptcy!” The crowd demanded an immediate ban on foreign dumping to protect local commerce.
They argued that since they paid taxes to the state, the state had a duty to protect them.
Amir walked directly toward the crowd without fear.
The protest leaders stepped forward and handed him a formal petition.
“We hope the provincial government can resolve this crisis,” the leader stated firmly.
“We pay our taxes to the Shah, so the Shah ought to protect our livelihoods.” Amir scanned the crowd and realized they were mostly bazaar merchants and small shop owners.
He assured them that the government would find a fair solution.
He then invited a few of their representatives inside to speak further.
“Ah, what an ambitious man,” Stevens muttered to himself, watching Amir lead them inside.
Inside the meeting room, the representatives laid out their grievances to Amir.
They were primarily suffering from the aggressive market dumping of Russian manufactured goods.
Under current trade treaties, Russian goods paid a mere 5% import tariff.
Meanwhile, local Persian merchants had to pay at least 10% in domestic trade taxes, alongside endless local tolls.
This massive tax disparity made it impossible for local businesses to compete or survive.
Amir grew increasingly alarmed as he listened to their complaints.
He had never realized that Russian economic infiltration had cut so deep into Azerbaijan.
Unfortunately, the provincial government lacked the power to violate international treaties, meaning the merchants had to endure the hardship for now.
After much careful persuasion, Amir managed to calm the representatives down and sent them off.
He then took the protest letter straight to Nasser al-Din in the back hall.
“Your Highness, Russian economic infiltration is spreading far faster than I ever imagined,” Amir warned.
Naser al-Din nodded, having expected as much.
The Russian Empire was a power more desperate for warm-water ports than a child for its mother, so they naturally held aggressive designs on Persia.
“We must establish our own industrial base immediately,” Naser al-Din declared.
“We need profitable, state-backed factories to boost local revenues.” “Tabriz is filled with skilled artisans who went bankrupt—why not mobilize them into factories?” Amir fully agreed with the prince’s initiative.
Building modern factories was the only sustainable way to boost state revenue.
Even the Ottoman Empire was building modern plants, while Persia remained entirely pre-industrial.
Establishing their very first modern industrial complex in Tabriz was the logical move.
“I will approach the British Consul directly,” Amir suggested.
“We can see if they are willing to sell us modern industrial machinery.” “Whether we succeed or fail rests on your shoulders, Lala,” Naser al-Din said, looking up expectantly.
The prince was only fourteen years old.
If his Lala-bashi hadn’t accompanied him to Tabriz, the ruthless local gentry would have stripped him of power long ago.
His tutor carried a heavy burden, practically exhausting himself to keep Persia afloat.
— – Three Days Later Inside the Tabriz Theological Seminary, young boys were reciting religious texts.
An elderly scholar strolled down the hallway and stopped to question one of the students.
“What is the ultimate purpose of your studies, Mohammad?” the old man asked gently.
“To defend our holy homeland, Master!” the boy answered proudly.
The old man turned to another student sitting nearby.
“And what about you, Hassan?
What is the purpose of your studies?” “The Russians slaughtered my family while fighting them,” the boy spat with venom.
“I study so I can take my revenge!” Nearly every student in the seminary harbored deep animosity toward the Russian Empire, making them eager to take up arms.
The old scholar smiled with deep satisfaction.
Watching the new governor’s administration work reminded him of the golden era when religious leaders and secular rulers worked side-by-side.
Because Western Azerbaijan had occupied the front line of Russian invasions for decades, the local ulema were remarkably open-minded.
They were far more willing to embrace modern reforms than clergymen in the conservative interior.
When Amir Kabir first met with the local Shia Ulemas, they struck a pragmatic political deal.
The Ulemas agreed to use their religious authority to endorse the governor’s modernization efforts.
In return, the governor pledged never to infringe upon religious endowments, promising full state protection for clerical property.
That was why, during Nasser al-Din’s first year as governor, the Ulemas publicly declared that his administrative reforms fully complied with Islamic law.
In the Middle East after the end of Islamic Golden Era, promoting Western-style secular nationalism was political suicide.
Religion remained the ultimate social adhesive holding disparate ethnic groups together.
In Persia, Shia Islam held supreme authority, making government cooperation with the clergy mandatory.
Here in Tabriz, an enlightened religious leadership worked hand-in-hand with an ambitious reformist government for the good of the realm.
Before heading to the British consulate, Amir took a quiet detour through the impoverished slums of Tabriz.
After handing out a few coins to the locals, he learned that hundreds of master carpet weavers were living in absolute poverty, ruined by recent economic crashes.
Armed with a concrete plan, Amir immediately rode his carriage straight to the consulate.
From his second-story window, Consul Richard White Stevens saw Amir’s carriage pull up to the gates.
A greedy smile crossed his face, knowing that profitable business had just arrived at his door.
“Ah, Lord Amir!” Stevens greeted him warmly as he entered.
“What unexpected honor brings you to the British Consulate today?” Amir skipped the diplomatic small talk and got straight to the point.
“Your Excellency, the Governor-General wishes to purchase industrial equipment from Great Britain.” “Here is our official procurement requisition list.” Stevens took the document, and as his eyes scanned the page, his jaw nearly dropped.
The requisition called for complete manufacturing setups, including cotton mills, silk reeling plants, textile dyeing facilities, an artillery foundry, and a modern mint.
It also listed industrial steam engines and requested foreign technical advisers across banking, public education, military tactics, mining, and agriculture.
The listed purchase price came out to a massive £300,000.
Furthermore, the Persian delegation offered to put up Azerbaijan’s border customs duties and provincial mining taxes as collateral.
They wanted to secure a £500,000 state loan directly from Great Britain.
Under the proposed terms, repayment would begin in five years and be amortized over a fifteen-year period.
While traveling to the consulate, Amir had quietly updated the list himself.
He added a modern steel mill and thousands of Western educational texts, knowing Persia desperately needed both.
“A modern steel mill?” Stevens asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I haven’t received any reports of major iron ore deposits being discovered in Persia.” “Importing all that raw iron ore just to process it locally sounds terribly expensive, doesn’t it?” “Building a native steel mill is a decision we have carefully calculated, Your Excellency,” Amir replied smoothly.
“The iron currently forged in Persia is of exceptionally poor quality, which severely compromises our weapons manufacturing.” “Therefore, establishing a modern steel mill is an absolute necessity for our national defense.” Stevens quickly calculated the geopolitical math in his head.
Selling these machines would generate massive profits for British manufacturers, but it would also significantly empower Persia.
He informed Amir that while he could not approve the loan himself, he would forward the proposal to the Ambassador in Tehran.
He advised the tutor to return to the mansion and await a formal reply.
Seeing that no immediate deal could be signed, Amir politely took his leave.
The moment Amir left, Stevens sat down at his desk and began furiously drafting an urgent dispatch to Ambassador Justin Sheil in Tehran.
He urged the ambassador to press Her Majesty’s Government in London to approve the Tabriz loan immediately.
Stevens saw immense potential in the young governor and his brilliant Lala, recognizing that they might serve as Britain’s ultimate barrier to stop Russian expansion into Central Asia.
“Your Excellency Sir Justin Sheil,” Stevens wrote in his letter.
“I strongly advise that you persuade Whitehall to grant this loan without delay.” “Through his tutor, this impressive young governor has shown a desperate desire to seek the protection and alliance of Great Britain.” “Helping him eventually secure the Peacock Throne as King of Persia is undoubtedly a high-stakes gamble, but it is one well worth taking.” (TN: I do some research on the name of British Consul and Ambassador for Persia in that period of time, and the name author use Henry Wallace isn’t matching with the historical figure, so i choose to change it with the real consul and ambassador for persia in 1845) ————————————– Shoutout to Mozart111 for become my P Knight, my cats eat fish tonight If you enjoy this story consider support me on P Site/OrbisTranslate,