"I resent the implication that I am some sort of banana republic tyrant come begging before a third-rank American bureaucrat. I am the president of the Islamic Republic of Iran. I am the political and religious leader of fifteen million Muslim soldiers of God who would gladly die for Allah, and myself. Please do not insult me."
McDonough shrugged, thought to himself that this Iranian was even touchier than he'd expected. "I apologize for my remarks—"
"I would hear the apology from the president himself."
"I'm afraid that's impossible."
"Why impossible?"
McDonough sighed. "Sir, in this election year it would be ill-advised for any American politician to be seen with you. This meeting alone carries significant risk… But the president does feel it's urgent to open a dialogue with you. I happen to be the best-qualified person in the administration to talk to you about your present situation."
"You are also… how do you say it… deniable? A secretary of state must answer to the people and to Congress. A junior aide in some back-room office in the White House can easily be hidden from public view."
McDonough smiled in spite of himself. "You know your American politics, Monsieur le President."
This small bit of flattery went a long way, helped Alientar to save some face. "Continue, Mr. McDonough. You are impertinent but I believe we can still talk business."
McDonough nodded. "Well, in this case business simply involves an exchange of information. The president wants to know how you view the situation in your country."
"That is all?" Alientar let out a short laugh. "I dare say your point of view is more informed than mine at this point." He turned away and stared out one of the tall columnar windows of the Governor's House. "They thought the Ayatollah Khomeini was Jesus Christ resurrected," Alientar said finally. "The damned outcast socialists, the bored students, the poor starving fundamentalist Muslims — it was as if they all wanted to re-create the New Testament, with Rubollah Khomeini as Jesus and the Shah as Pilate. There were secret police and atrocities on both sides, but Iran was a flower in the desert in the days of the Shah. Khomeini was supposed to make it better, and I believe that he could have made Iran prosperous under Islam. But he began to believe the things they were saying about him. He waged war on whoever the priests and elders told him were threatening his ascent to glory. He slaughtered thousands of the Shah's men, the only Iranians who knew how to run a government. He strangled the life out of the foreign oil companies. He made war on the Israelis, the French, the Americans, the British and then the Iraquis. He ordered the slaughter of ten thousand children in one month by sending them, unarmed, against Iraqi tanks and he rejoiced afterward. The power, it simply drove him mad. "
Alientar paused for a moment, then continued. "He spent millions on educating the young mullahs overseas. We were taught diplomacy, defense, finance, every facet of government; then when we returned, he tossed us aside in favor of the religious fanatics. Many of us were made military field commanders — many of us died in Iraqi bombing raids or at the hands of Khomeini's Revolutionary Guard."
"But not you. Your military successes led you back to Tehran. "
Alientar looked surprised. "Yes. I led a successful guerrilla attack against some isolated Iraqi headquarters. My squad of old men and children had been abandoned by our Revolutionary Guard regulars; we were cornered like rats and we fought like rats and somehow were victorious. We captured some useless desert territory and a few Soviet tanks. They made me a hero and suddenly I found myself with access to the inner circle of power."
"Where you began to build the groundwork for a more moderate government," McDonough added.
Alientar looked at him. "I cannot tell if you are baiting me or if that is what you really believe. Never mind… I was a lackey in the so-called Islamic Revolutionary Council. I kissed the feet of the psychotic fundamentalist warmongers like everyone else. But I discovered that I was not the only one who wanted a more moderate, more profitable Islamic government. A group of us arranged for arms to be secretly shipped from several countries, including the United States, and only a fraction of those weapons ever found their way into the hands of the Iranian army or the Revolutionary Guard The rest were stored in secret caches in Iran and Pakistan and Saudi Arabia, waiting.
"It was a bad day, back in 1986, when our operation was revealed during your infamous Iran-Contra scandal. We went underground when our activities were made public, survived the internal investigations, and became stronger. The Revolutionary Guard may be the flower of the Ayatollah's chivalry, but they are just as corrupt as anyone. They kept their tongues silent for a little gold — no, hear me out, McDonough," he said as McDonough seemed about to interrupt.
"You asked for information; you need background to understand it… When Khomeini finally became too ill to function, Larijani, Khomeini's chosen successor, inherited a sinking ship. Even the support of the Soviet Union could not save him when we decided to take over—"
"Yes, my government is impressed with your ability to consolidate the rival factions in your country," McDonough said. "Your progress has been encouraging. We know, of course, that there are still fundamentalist religious leaders and Revolutionary Guard commanders who claim you don't represent them, but their numbers seem to be dwindling. The president is optimistic. "
Alientar stood and began to pace the tiny office, absently studying the books on the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining the walls. He stopped and opened a concealed panel above a small letter desk, revealing a very well-stocked liquor cabinet with rows of shining crystal snifters and gracefully fluted decanters. "I learned much in the West. I learned about single-malt Scotch whiskey — he poured himself a shot and returned to the high-backed leather seat — and I learned about the rivalry between the East and West. I think I learned what motivates the Russians — fear of powerful neighbors, losing control of territories, having insecure borders, not having access to warmwater ports. And I believe I learned what motivates the West — worrying where the next tank of gas will come from, fear of losing markets, losing investment opportunities, losing control of the Soviets. There is a saying in the Middle East: there is no difference between Russian money, and American money, but with the Russian money comes Russian troops, and with American money comes Exxon and Holiday Inn.
"Iran is tearing itself apart, Mr. McDonough," Alientar said matter-of-factly, as if casually describing the weather outside. "I have two choices. I can allow my country to be dismembered like a wounded hare set on by a pack of wolves, or I can align with a keeper to save us from self-destruction. I prefer the latter. I would like our keeper to be the United States of America."
McDonough nodded, his face showing no expression. Alientar went on, "If promised money, arms, and assistance from the West, I will pledge to withdraw from this Soviet-inspired war with Iraq, retreat back to our prewar boundaries and open negotiations with President Hussein of Iraq to normalize relations. If I manage to keep myself alive in the process, I will authorize an exchange of ambassadors between our countries, allow foreign oil companies access to petroleum deposits and eventually try to return Iran to its prerevolution status while retaining a moderate Muslim society and government… It would also be in our interests to arrange that docking rights be granted to American naval vessels and aircraft, and to reestablish an American military presence in Iran. I believe the wolf with the sharpest teeth ready to swallow us is the Soviet Union, which would like nothing better than to have direct access to the Arabian Sea and the Persian Gulf and control of the Strait of Hormuz. It would be of incredible strategic value to them." He looked squarely at McDonough. "Or to the United States."