Roozbeh Farahanipour watched the serene movements of a gray shark in the 220-gallon saltwater aquarium of his Westwood restaurant while grappling with heavy concerns about the escalating conflict in Iran.
Having fled his homeland a quarter-century ago, the Iranian American restaurant owner felt the weight of recent events, especially after the U.S. military had bombed Iranian sites, intensifying tensions that began with Israel’s surprise attack on Iran.
“Anger and hate for the Iranian regime — I have it, but I try to manage it,” shared Farahanipour, who owns the Delphi Greek restaurant along with two others.
He expressed deep uncertainty about the future, voicing fears that any regime change in Iran might lead to chaos similar to Iraq or Afghanistan or even divisive conflicts like those in the Balkans.
Wrestling with the personal and geopolitical ramifications, he pondered the potential consequences for civilians in Iran, the loss of Israeli lives, and the implications for Americans.
Yet amid these serious questions, he also voiced a more mundane concern typical of restaurant owners: “What’s gonna be the gas price tomorrow?”
Such contrasts reflect the complex emotional landscape for Iranian Americans in the Los Angeles area, which hosts the largest Iranian community outside Iran.
According to the Iranian Data Dashboard from UCLA, approximately 141,000 Iranian Americans reside in L.A. County.
In Westwood, often referred to as “Tehrangeles” due to its concentration of Iranian immigrants after the 1979 Islamic Revolution, the community’s reaction to the conflict was surprisingly subdued.
On that Sunday morning, reporters from major news outlets like CNN and Spectrum News significantly outnumbered local patrons in some restaurants.
At one popular spot, Attari Sandwich Shop, adorned with the pre-revolution Iranian flag, diners preferred to keep their thoughts private.
A middle-aged customer responded with a light-hearted, “No thank you; [I’m] not really political” when approached for an interview.
The sociopolitical implications of U.S. military involvement in Iran have long been a source of anxiety for many in the Iranian diaspora.
Kevan Harris, an associate professor of sociology at UCLA, articulated the pervasive fear surrounding this theme.
“This scenario — which seems almost fantastical in a way — is something that has been in the imagination: The United States is going to bomb Iran,” explained Harris, who authored “A Social Revolution: Politics and the Welfare State in Iran.”
For many Iranian emigrants, the sentiment towards the authoritarian government they eschewed is complex, intermingled with worry about families still in Iran.
Mary, a 35-year-old who requested to be identified anonymously to protect her family, shared her turbulent emotional state after moving to the U.S. five years ago.
Currently visiting L.A. from Chicago, she was particularly troubled as her parents remain in Tehran, having relocated due to the ongoing Israeli attacks.
“I am talking to them every day,” Mary said, capturing the stress many feel about their family ties across borders.
Standing outside Shater Abbass Bakery & Market, which also displays the pre-1979 Iranian flag, she described her feelings as both hopeful and worried.
“It’s a very confusing feeling,” she remarked, highlighting the mixed sentiments among her peers.
While some rejoice at the potential for governmental change, others grieve the loss of civilian lives and property destruction.
Mary’s plans to visit her family in Iran later this year now lay in disarray due to the conflict.
“I don’t know what I should do,” she admitted, revealing the uncertainty faced by those with familial connections in impacted regions.
In nearby Beverly Hills, the influential Iranian Jewish community was also reflecting on the ongoing situation.
Shahram Javidnia, a 62-year-old Iranian Jew residing in Beverly Hills, stood among a group of pro-Israel demonstrators waving flags, attuned to the broader implications of the conflict.
Monitoring various media channels for news related to Iran, he articulated a strong opinion on the moment’s significance.
“Now that they’re in a weak point,” he reasoned about Iran’s leadership, “that’s the time maybe for the Iranians to rise up and try to do what is right.”
Having immigrated to the U.S. just before the revolution in 1978, Javidnia expressed no desire to return to Iran.
“The place that I spent my childhood is not there anymore,” he lamented.
The conversation surrounding the conflict in Iran reveals a tapestry of emotions for Iranian Americans, fluctuating between hope for change, fear for loved ones, and deep-rooted sentiments of loss as they navigate their dual identities in a time of crisis.
image source from：latimes
