The Great Events by Famous Historians [Volumes 1-14]

This second ultimatum, despite all hypocritical attempts made to justify it, fairly stunned the Persian people. Accustomed as they had become in recent years to the high-handed and cynical actions of the St. Petersburg cabinet, they had not looked for such a foul blow as this. They had been realizing dimly that the peace of Europe was being threatened by the open hostility of Germany and England over the Moroccan incident, and that British foreign policy was apparently leaving Russia absolutely free to work her will in Asia, so long, at least, as Russia pretended to acknowledge the. Anglo-Russian entente of 1907; but the Persian people had too much, far too much, confidence in the sacredness of treaty stipulations and the solemnly pledged words of the great Christian nations of the world to imagine that their own whole national existence and liberty could be jeopardized overnight, and on a pretext so shallow and farcical as to excite world-wide ridicule. Their disillusionment came too late. The trap had been unwittingly set by hands that made unexpected moves on the European chessboard, and the Bear's paw had this time been skilful enough to spring it at the proper moment.

The Persian statesmen and chieftains who formed the cabinet at this time, whether because they perceived the gleaming, naked steel behind Russia's threats more clearly than their legislative compatriots of the Parliament or Medjlis, or whether they suffered from that abandon and tired feeling which comes from playing an unequal and always losing game, quickly decided that they would accept this second ultimatum with all its future oppression and cruelty for their people.

On December 1st, therefore, shortly before the time limit of forty-eight hours fixed by Russia for the acceptance of the terms had expired, the cabinet filed into the chamber of deputies to secure legislative approval of their intended course.

It was an hour before noon, and the Parliament grounds and buildings were filled with eager, excited throngs, while the galleries of the Medjlis chamber were packed with Persian notables of all ranks and with the representatives of many of the foreign legations. At noon the fate of Persia as a nation was to be known.

The cabinet, having made up its mind to yield, overlooked no point that would increase their chances of securing the approval of the Medjlis. Believing, evidently, that the ridiculously short time to elapse before the stroke of noon announced the expiration of the forty-eight-hour period would effectually prevent any mature consideration or discussion of their proposals, the premier, Samsamu's-Saltana, caused to be presented to the deputies a resolution authorizing the cabinet to accept Russia's demands.

The proposal was read amid a deep silence. At its conclusion, a hush fell upon the gathering. Seventy-six deputies, old men and young, priests, lawyers, doctors, merchants, and princes, sat tense in their seats.

A venerable priest of Islam arose. Time was slipping away and at noon the question would be beyond their vote to decide. This servant of God spoke briefly and to the point: "It may be the will of Allah that our liberty and our sovereignty shall be taken from us by force, but let us not sign them away with our own hands!" One gesture of appeal with his trembling hands, and he resumed his seat.

Simple words, these, yet winged ones. Easy to utter in academic discussions; hard, bitterly hard, to say under the eye of a cruel and overpowering tyrant whose emissaries watched the speaker from the galleries and mentally marked him down for future imprisonment, torture, exile, or worse.

Other deputies followed. In dignified appeals, brief because the time was short, they upheld their country's honor and proclaimed their hard-earned right to live and govern themselves.

A few minutes before noon the public vote was taken; one or two faint-hearted members sought a craven's refuge and slunk quietly from the chamber. As each name was called, the deputy rose in his place and gave his vote, there was no secret ballot here.

And when the roll-call was ended, every man, priest or layman, youth or octogenarian, had cast his own die of fate, had staked the safety of himself and family, and hurled back into the teeth of the great Bear from the north the unanimous answer of a desperate and downtrodden people who preferred a future of unknown terror to the voluntary sacrifice of their national dignity and of their recently earned right to work out their own salvation.

Amid tears and applause from the spectators, the crestfallen and frightened cabinet withdrew, while the deputies dispersed to ponder on the course which lay darkly before their people.

By this vote, the cabinet, according to the Persian constitution, ceased to exist as a legal entity.