Coast to Coast on a Red Carpet

Americans enjoy nothing more than entertaining a king, but so many monarchs have been socially disqualified--either for thronelessness, chasing starlets or consorting with the nation's enemies--that there is seldom a chance to singe one with the full, hot blast of democratic hospitality. Last week, however, U.S. officialdom, U.S. hostesses, and U.S. foreign-relations societies had converged with a shout on the genuine article. The target: the Shah of Iran.

The handsome Shah (full title: His Imperial Majesty Mohamed Reza Pahlevi, Shahinshah of Iran), a lean, sad-eyed young (30) monarch, might have been born & bred for the guinea hen & champagne circuit. He was a bachelor (having divorced beauteous Princess Fawzia of Egypt in 1948), had a gratifyingly deferential way with the ladies, had a democratic fondness for crowds and machinery, and seemed genuinely moved by his reception.

Adventures in Manhattan. Somewhat to the surprise of his welcomers, he also proved to be a thoughtful, articulate spokesman for Iran's modernization plans and its need for economic and military help from the U.S. He took great pains to explain that he was not "an Oriental potentate, but a modern, liberal, constitutional monarch whose powers . . . are somewhat less than those [of] the King of Sweden."

His New York adventures began, after five days of entertainment in Washington (TiME, Nov. 28), as he rode from the Battery to City Hall in an open car (drawing a street crowd of 200,000 and a flattering paper shower) to receive an official reception from Mayor William O'Dwyer. In 72 hours he spoke at three banquets and three luncheons, paid post-midnight calls on a series of nightclubs, went to three museums, visited the Arab library at Princeton University and inspected the pressrooms of the Newark News.

He also made a quick trip to the United States Military Academy at West Point. On arrival he was told that century-old tradition permitted him, as a head of state, to make and receive one request during his visit. He asked a pardon for all cadets undergoing punishment for breaches of discipline, and some 80 promptly had their privileges restored. At Hyde Park, where he had Thanksgiving dinner with Mrs. Franklin D. Roosevelt, he spied a handsome Persian rug which he had presented to F.D.R. six years ago. Beaming, he got down on his knees, fingered it, and made a short talk on the technique of Oriental rug making. (The test of a good Persian rug: at least 100 knots per square inch.)

The Shah Goes West. Next day he flew to Detroit in the presidential DC-6 Independence, was immediately hustled off in a long, gleaming motorcade to inspect automobile plants. At the Cadillac factory he asked final-assembly workers so many questions that cars began coming off the end of the line unfinished. He also appeared at two more dinners, greeted his kid brother Mahmoud, a tall, handsome senior at the University of Michigan, and startled a reporter who asked him what he thought of American women. "I see many of them in the streets," he said in puzzled tones, "but I don't see many pregnant."

Over the weekend, on a visit to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base at Dayton, he demonstrated his capabilities as a pilot by flying a 6-25 bomber on a 25-minute hop. He was still going strong, still finding the country wonderful, still looking, forward, with no perceptible glazing of the eyes, to visiting the Grand Canyon, Hoover Dam, Las Vegas, Phoenix, San Diego, Los Angeles, and Sun Valley, Idaho.

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