No podcast version from me today… I am a serious Dodgers fan, and I have no voice this morning… -db
Today, we’re taking a closer look at a figure who, even decades after his death, evokes passionate views and debates – Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, the last Shah of Iran. His reign was a dramatic one, marked by both ambitious reforms and equally monumental controversy. And at the height of his power, he celebrated his 1967 coronation in a grand ceremony that symbolized not only his aspirations for Iran but also his vision of personal authority. This wasn’t just a king putting on a crown – it was a declaration of Iran’s path forward, a bold statement of intent.
But, as we’ll explore today, that intent met with resistance from both internal and external forces. And that coronation – as grand as it was – would eventually stand as one of the high points before an equally dramatic fall. Let’s set the stage with the man himself and his early days on the throne.
Mohammad Reza Pahlavi was born on October 26, 1919, in Tehran, into the house of Pahlavi. His father, Reza Shah, had founded the dynasty and laid out ambitious plans to modernize Iran. But in 1941, amidst the chaos of World War II, the Allies forced Reza Shah to step down, fearing his sympathies lay too close to Nazi Germany. So, at just 21 years old, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi took the throne.
From the beginning, the young Shah faced tremendous challenges. Internally, he had to navigate the complexities of Iran’s fragmented political landscape. And then there was the issue of oil. In the early 1950s, Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadegh nationalized Iran’s oil industry, triggering a crisis with the West. The situation spiraled to a head in 1953 when a CIA-backed coup overthrew Mossadegh, reinstating the Shah with a reinforced authority. This episode tightened his ties to the West, but it also set a tone that he would increasingly rely on foreign support to maintain his grip on power.
By the mid-1960s, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi was more than just Iran’s head of state. He saw himself as the driving force behind Iran’s transformation into a modern, powerful nation. And on October 26, 1967, he symbolized that vision by crowning himself in a lavish ceremony, a spectacle designed to show the world – and his own people – that Iran was rising.
The coronation was a massive undertaking. Preparations took years, with an extravagance befitting a monarch who intended to convey an image of splendor, stability, and undeniable authority. The Shah crowned himself, a rare act that not only underscored his confidence but also his belief in his legitimacy. This moment of self-crowning represented his sovereignty over Iran, a direct challenge to any notion that he was merely a Western puppet.
And standing beside him that day was Empress Farah Diba, his third wife and a woman who brought an air of modernization and sophistication. Hers was a significant presence in the ceremony, marking the first time since the Safavid era that an Iranian queen was crowned. Western leaders and royalty from around the world looked on, but this wasn’t just for them – it was also for the Iranian people. The Shah was telling them that Iran’s future was one of strength, unity, and advancement.
This coronation was more than ceremonial splendor. It was a statement aligning with the Shah’s ambitious modernization program, known as the White Revolution. This series of reforms started in the early 1960s, aiming to propel Iran forward with new infrastructure, industry, land redistribution, and even rights for women.
Land reform aimed to break up large estates, transferring ownership to farmers and ending the feudal systems that kept so many Iranians poor and landless. Women’s rights took an unprecedented place in Iranian law, with education and professional opportunities opening up under the Shah’s reign. The reforms, in many ways, were revolutionary – designed to create a society that was both modern and nationally self-sufficient.
But here’s the problem: Iran wasn’t a monolithic society. Many supported the reforms, particularly among the urban middle classes who saw them as vital to economic progress. Yet, the Shah’s policies sparked resentment. The clergy, in particular, saw these changes as a threat to traditional values. And in time, that resentment would grow into full-blown opposition.
With his coronation, the Shah had achieved his moment of glory. But just beneath the surface, challenges were brewing. Economically, oil wealth had indeed transformed Iran, but it also fostered corruption and deepened inequalities. As the Shah built up Iran’s military and infrastructure with petrodollars, he overlooked – or perhaps ignored – the growing frustration of Iran’s rural population and the religious sectors who felt alienated by his secular, Westernized policies.
The Shah’s modernization program may have been a bold step toward progress, but it alienated a significant portion of Iran’s population. Traditionalist forces, led by the clergy and Ayatollah Khomeini, viewed the Shah’s reforms as both secular and Western intrusions into Iran’s identity. Then there was SAVAK, his secret police, notorious for its repression and brutal tactics. Political opposition was harshly suppressed, and fear ran deep – a factor that fueled resentment rather than quelled it.
In 1979, all this tension boiled over. Mass protests swept through Iran, drawing people from all walks of life. Students, workers, religious leaders – they all came together, united against a regime they saw as oppressive, corrupt, and unresponsive. Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, weakened by illness and unable to quell the unrest, eventually fled the country.
By February of that year, Ayatollah Khomeini returned from exile and declared Iran an Islamic Republic, ending centuries of monarchy. For the Shah, who had envisioned himself as the custodian of Iran’s greatness, it was a devastating turn of fate. His dynasty collapsed, and he lived his final years in exile, eventually dying of cancer in Egypt in 1980.
Mohammad Reza Pahlavi’s legacy remains deeply polarized. His defenders argue he was a visionary, determined to modernize and elevate Iran on the global stage. They look at the roads, the hospitals, the schools, and the industries he built, and they see a leader who aimed to secure Iran’s place among the world’s great nations.
His critics, though, remember him as an authoritarian ruler who crushed opposition, ignored his people’s voices, and drove the nation toward an identity crisis. The irony of his modernization efforts is that they were, in many ways, successful. But in focusing on infrastructure and industry, the Shah overlooked the cultural, religious, and social dynamics that were equally important to the Iranian people.
Today, his image is controversial within Iran, where the revolution that overthrew him is still celebrated. But in the Iranian diaspora, particularly among monarchists, he is seen as a symbol of a lost golden era. Many in exile long for an Iran where his modernization vision, minus the oppression, could be realized.
The 1967 coronation of Mohammad Reza Pahlavi was meant to be a lasting symbol of his vision for Iran. And in some ways, it was – a symbol of ambition, of grandeur, of a vision that reached for greatness but missed the mark with his people. In the end, the Shah’s dreams of modernization came face to face with an age-old truth: a nation’s future cannot simply be crowned from above. It has to resonate with the people it seeks to uplift. And when it doesn’t, no crown, no matter how grand, can hold.
For several years in the early 2000’s, I was dating a very wonderful woman who had left Iran around the early 1980s, after the Revolution. She and her mother were not Islamic, but rather Assyrian Christians. In all of their chats with me about it, they never had a bad word about the Shah. They understood that he had not always been a great leader, and the whole issue with the secret police was still haunting them, but she and her mother had nothing bad to say about him, especially compared with the Ayatollah. -db
DAVE DOES HISTORY 
Leave a comment