If I had to describe Mostafa Mesbahzadeh in one phrase, it would be: happiness on feet.
It was the first impression I had of him when I went to see him at his office in Kayhan one autumn afternoon in 1968 for the first time to ask if I could work for his English-language daily Kayhan International. That impression was confirmed, again and again, over more than three decades of working together and friendship that stood many tests, both at home and in exile.
Mesbahzadeh, universally known as "Aqaye Doktor" (Mister Doctor) stood out in a culture steeped in pessimism and the cult of sorrow. The Persian poet Shahriar had put it this way: Yes, our music is sad- Whatever is ours is sad!
Mesbahzadeh's optimism, though atypical for an Iranian born in the first decade of the tumultuous 20th century, was, nonetheless, deeply affected by Persian mysticism. Many years later, he told me the story of how he had come to believe that he was meant to have a charmed life in exchange for his pledge to do as much good as he could while on earth.
It was a simple tale. Young Mesabahzadeh, standing for election to the Majlis Shuraye Melli (National Parliament) had been targeted for assassination by one of his rivals who had hired bandits to do the deed on the road from Bandar Abbas to Minab in southern Iran.
But, a few kilometres from where the bandits were lurking in the covert for their prey, the ramshackle vehicle in which Mesbahzadeh was travelling had to stop because a leopard was sleeping and snoring right in the middle of the road. As the driver and other passengers debated whether they should make some noise or even fire shots in the air to wake the animal up and have him clear the road, Mesabahzadeh intervened to calm things down.
"Would you like anyone to disturb your sleep?" he asked the driver and passengers. "Let the poor creature sleep!"
So, the leopard was allowed to rest, while the passengers had tea, told each other stories, and waited for several hours. By that time, the bandits and would-be assassins had concluded that Mesbahzadeh had cancelled his trip and would not be passing by that road. They decided to go away, allowing the young jurist, just back with a doctorate from Paris, to get elected to the Majlis, and start to build one of the most remarkable political and press careers in modern Iran.
Mesbahzadeh believed that the fact that we were endowed with life, the greatest gift from God or nature, was enough to keep us happy and optimistic.
Once he told me another of his secrets.
Every dawn as he woke up, he would look around to make sure that things were as they should be. The house had not crumbled, the city was not in flames, and the country had not been invaded. With the Scouts' motto of "Be Prepared!", he was also prepared for whatever the uncertainties of life might throw at him at any time. For more than a decade, for example, he always kept an overnight bag ready in case political opponents sent people to arrest him.
In a land located on the world's most active earthquake belt and in a country that has experienced more invasions, revolts, dynastic wars and other upheavals than anywhere else on earth, the " Be Prepared!" part of Aqyae Doktor's philosophy was not misplaced. Even during the decade and half when Iran appeared to be stable under the Shah and reasonably content thanks to economic growth and social reform, Mesbahzadeh did not abandon his " If anything can happen, it will!" motto.
What was one to do in a culture producing so many storm-bearing clouds?
Mesbahzadeh's answer was right out of the great Persian poet Hafez: Equity towards friends, moderation towards foes!
Blessed by a nature that did not include an ounce of jealousy or envy, Mesbahzadeh rejoiced in the success of others, always using it as an impetus for greater effort on his own part.
Mesbahzadeh was also impervious to flattery, an old disease of societies that live with uncertainty.
On that, he told me another of his secrets. He always had a rosary in his pocket, not to pose as religious man as so many hypocrites did. He would start fingering the rosary as soon as anyone started showering him with flattery. He would touch every bid and repeat to himself in silence: Don't be an ass! Don't be an ass! (When he appointed me Editor-in-Chief of the Persian daily Kayhan, he gave me a similar rosary, which I still treasure, with the advice to count the beads each time anyone flattered me.)
Although Mesbahzadeh disliked the term self-made man, he was one on all accounts. (He believed that no man is self-made as he is created by God, supported by family and friends and affected by the conditions of time and place.) Born in a modest family in one of Iran's most neglected regions in the Iranian deep south close to the Persian Gulf, he quickly discovered that there were only two fast lanes to social advancement in Iran of the time: joining the newly created army of Reza Shah or obtaining a cordon bleu foreign education.
Knowing that he was not one for the ranks, he decided to take the education lane. With great difficulty, he managed to get himself to Beirut where he obtained his first university degrees before moving to Paris, on a government scholarship, to do his doctorate in jurisprudence.
But, by the time he was back home and eager for work, Iran had been invaded and occupied by the Allies, and Reza Shah sent into exile in South Africa.
Having prepared himself for an academic career, Mesbahzadeh found himself exposed to the political currents of his time. The British were financing and, to some extent, inspiring a number of newspapers in Tehran while the Soviets exerted influence through more than a dozen dailies and weeklies published by the crypto-Communist Tudeh (Masses) Party and its allies, including the United Council of Workers, Iran's best-organised trade union at the time.
Mesbahzadeh's political mentor at the time was Abdul-Rahman Faramarzi, a lawyer and journalist who also hailed from the Persian deep south. Ten years older than his young protégé, Faramarzi was a key figure in a circle of patriots who worried about the future of Iran once the Second World War would come to an end. They saw attempts at secession in the provinces of Azerbaijan, Kurdistan and Khuzestan, mainly inspired by the USSR and Great Britain which, though allies at the time, regarded one another as rivals for influence in post-war Iran. The British also kept a tap on the Qashqai and Bakhtiari tribes in central and southern Iran, just in case there would be a repeat of the de facto partition of the country as had been discussed before World War I.
Together with Faramarzi, Mesbahzadeh decided that Iran needed a new newspaper that would stay outside the pro-British and pro-Soviet currents of the time and defend the principles of constitutional monarchy. But, where was the money for such a newspaper to come from? Having sold most of their few belongings, including a new American car that Mesbahzadeh had " loved and cherished", the duo had come up with nearly six million rials (some $50,000), including sums borrowed from friends and relatives. They needed another $50,000 or so. On the advice of a mutual friend, they decided to tap the young Muhammad Reza Shah who had succeeded his exiled father as monarch just over a year earlier. The young Shah had to dip into his savings and borrow from his mother, the dowager