Story 2 - Part 9: The Political Figure

I thought that Haji Ali had his eye on a few coins from the money and was trying to play some trick with his words, but no, Haji Ali’s intention was something else. He said: “Sheikh Ja’far, know that everything requires capital, no matter what it is. From Rahim the blind man selling corn at the street corner to Haji Hossein Amin al-Darb, anyone who wants to do something and earn a little must have capital. Politics, too, obviously, cannot be done without it…” I interrupted him and said, “So you mean to say, education is necessary?” Haji Ali smiled under his breath and said, “No, education is for children; a politician doesn’t need to open a school.” I said, “Then you must be saying that experience and skill are needed.” He replied, “Oh, God bless your father! Experience is for the worker; a politician doesn’t need to become a foreman.” I said, “Then what do you mean? Maybe you’re suggesting one needs to have visited Mecca, Karbala, and Mashhad?” Haji Ali replied, “No, a politician is not a herald or a seller of pilgrimages. What I mean is that a politician must be righteous. Education, experience, and piety are just words. The real capital of a politician is righteousness!” I asked, “By righteousness, do you mean not looking at other men’s wives or not betraying people’s trust?” He answered, “No, no, these things have nothing to do with righteousness. Righteousness means not accepting bribes. A politician is someone who doesn’t take bribes…” I asked, “Do you mean the bribes given to the clerics and religious leaders?” He replied, “Yes, in the past, the poor would give bribes to the rich and the clerics, but since the Constitutional Revolution, the situation has reversed. Now, the nobles, ministers, and rulers are the ones giving bribes to their subordinates…” I said, “Well, that’s not bribery. It’s like charity or alms; what’s wrong with that?” He responded, “Charity is given for the sake of God, but a bribe is something else. In the past, someone who wanted to rise in position would pay a thousand or two thousand tomans to the king or the prime minister, and their career would be on track. Today, they divide that same amount into smaller coins and bribe thirty or forty political figures to reach any position they desire. Most of the politicians you see are busy with auctions and selling favors.” “Not taking bribes is the key to success in politics. Just as if you don’t have permission to enter a mosque at night, you cannot enter a political position unless you know the ropes. But once you establish yourself, you too become part of the watchmen and guards. But even then, if you can figure out a way to take bribes without anyone noticing, you can become one of the higher-ups in politics. However, this skill of deception is not for everyone; you need experience, and perhaps you need to have been a cleric or a respected person in the community before you can even get a chance in politics.”

In short, I took Haji Ali’s words to heart, and it dawned on me that I had been misled. It was very possible that now, everyone in town was saying that Sheikh Ja’far had not even opened his eyes before he started accepting bribes left and right. I thought to myself, “Sheikh Ja’far, you’re deserving of your beard!” I felt that soon, both friends and enemies would be whispering that I was taking bribes. I had to take action quickly, before all the efforts I had made to preserve my reputation went to waste.

I went out of my house and headed towards the assembly. When I arrived, I couldn’t figure out what was going on, but I caught bits and pieces of words like “treason,” “imprisonment,” and “execution,” and I realized that political trouble was brewing, and some poor soul was being used as a scapegoat. As I was thinking this over, people began to gather around me, clapping and cheering, thinking I was about to deliver a speech. Before I could react, I was lifted up onto a platform, and the crowd was eagerly waiting to hear how Sheikh Ja’far would condemn the “traitors.” I stood awkwardly and tried to say a few words, mimicking the rhetoric Haji Ali had taught me. I said a few things about the “traitors of the homeland” and warned them of the “national wrath,” trying to strike fear into them, but my words felt hollow. Then, I casually mentioned that they had failed to understand the true nature of patriotism, and no amount of bribe money would change that. I was careful to make it seem as though I was untouched by the corruption surrounding me. As I spoke, I pulled out the small bag of money from the Khan’s gift and threw a joke about “patriotism” that came to mind. By the time the crowd had calmed down, I handed the bag of money to my assistant, Hashemi, and told him to return it to its rightful owner, making it clear that no amount of money could buy true patriotism. The crowd, now dispersed, seemed to have lost interest, and soon enough, I found myself alone, far from the political turmoil I had tried to navigate.