Reza Khaleghian, 70, came bursting through the door of Naab Cafe on Saturday morning, phone pressed to his ear, fist held in the air, screaming the news in Farsi at anyone who would listen: “Khamenei is dead!”
Soon, President Trump would confirm the death of Iran’s supreme leader in a historic attack by the United States and Israel. A sea of flag-waving revelers would later fill the intersection of Wilshire Boulevard and Veteran Avenue.
But as bombs fell 7,500 miles away in Tehran, members of West L.A.’s Iranian American community spent Saturday celebrating a day some had been awaiting for nearly half a century.
“This is a fantastic day we could not even imagine in our dreams,” said Beha Pangrazio, 35. She had emigrated from Tehran 10 years ago and brought her husband, infant son and mother to celebrate in Westwood, the epicenter of L.A.’s sprawling Iranian diaspora. “Hopefully the regime will change, the shah will return back home and we will have a glorious future for Iran.”
The Greater Los Angeles area is home to the largest concentration of people of Iranian descent outside Iran. Since the Islamic Revolution in 1979, it has served as a capital for exiles. By 2019, more than half of Iranian immigrants to the U.S. lived in California, with 29% — nearly 140,000 people — living in Los Angeles County alone, according to the Migration Policy Institute.
Many settled in and around Westwood, earning the area the nickname “Tehrangeles.”
As word spread on social media of a large demonstration scheduled for later in the day in support of the strikes, people gathered in the neighborhood’s shops and cafes to celebrate the news.
Car horns blared and Persian music pumped through open windows. A Tesla Cybertruck festooned with two giant flags of the Imperial State of Iran, the monarchy overthrown in 1979, sped up Veteran Avenue; a Mercedes with the same flag billowing from an open sunroof turned in the other direction. Phones pinged with constant texts from friends and relatives watching the news around the world.
“You have to understand that we have been raised in preparation for this day,” said Ryan Abrams, 34, as he and his wife, Ashley Abrams, 32, walked the neighborhood with their dog.
He wore the lion-and-sun flag of the shah’s Iran tied like a cape around his shoulders; she wore a similarly sized Israeli flag around hers. Both of their Jewish Iranian families immigrated in 1979 to Los Angeles.
“Our whole lives we’ve had to navigate our different identities, coming from both Persian and Jewish backgrounds,” he said. “Today we see one step forward.”
Assal Pahlevan raises the historical Iranian lion and sun flag during a rally Saturday in Westwood.
Back at Naab Cafe, where “Make Iran Great Again” signs and photos of Iran’s exiled Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi hung in the windows facing Westwood Boulevard, Khaleghian and a growing group of friends gathered around a pair of outdoor tables, each of them leaping from their seats to greet each new arrival with embraces and exclamations of “javid Shah” — long live the shah.
“I’m 70 years old. This is the best time, ever, in my life. Freedom for my country. Best day of my life,” Khaleghian said. “I love Trump! I want to make sure he knows that.”
Their waiter Amir, who preferred not to share his last name, ferried packed peach-and-pineapple hookahs and tall glasses of pressed watermelon juice from the cafe’s kitchen to the table.
The 37-year-old Tehran native took to the streets during the 2009 Green Revolution and was “thrilled” by the news of the U.S. attack, though he acknowledged the future was uncertain.
“On one hand, you hate all of them so bad you want them all to die,” he said of the regime. “On the other hand — war. Things can go wrong in war. But me and a lot of people think war is better than what’s going on.”
At the table, Bob (he declined to give his last name) let out a whoop of celebration — he said he’d placed a bet some time ago on the prediction market app Kalshi that Khamenei would be dead by the end of February and was about to collect. Phones rattled against the tabletop with constant texts. Khaleghian reached for the plastic hookah pipe; a friend wrested it from his hand, reminding him of his cardiologist’s advice.
The five men, all of whom emigrated decades ago from Tehran, argued playfully over who had correctly predicted that Trump would follow through on his threats to attack Iran and who had held out doubts. Some said they were pleasantly surprised that their U.S.-born adult children, who had never set foot in Iran, seemed as elated by the news as they were.
All were planning to return as soon as they could to a country most had not seen since leaving decades earlier. “Next summer, I’m not going to Italy. I’m going to Iran,” said Khaleghian, pounding the table for emphasis. “God willing.”
Hundreds rally and celebrate in Westwood on Saturday after news of airstrikes in Iran.
“You guys are so hopeful,” said Paul Daneshrad, 59. “The more important question is, does this lead to meaningful change?” His friends groaned and tried to shush him; he waved them off.
“The people aren’t armed, so unless the army, or part of the army, decides to support the people, there’s going to be 50 people taking” the place of each leader killed, he said.
No one knew what the next day was going to bring, said Sepehr, 58, who declined to give his last name. The regime had held on for nearly half a century; it was too soon to know just how bloody its exit might be.
But Persian culture has persisted for more than 3,000 years, he said. In that context, what was a mere 47 years? “It’s a bad dream,” he said with a laugh.
