A shop in Finchley displaying the Iranian flag with the lion and sun motif, widely used by groups opposed to the Islamic government. Photograph: Martin Godwin/The Guardian

By Amelia Hill. The Guardian

"Sara* arranged slices of watermelon on a plate and poured mint tea into glass mugs. Outside her window, in North Finchley, lies the stretch of London known affectionately as Little Tehran, home to one of the UK’s largest Iranian communities.

“When the bombing happened, the streets here went crazy,” she said. “People were covering themselves in flags and chanting for the king to come back.”

But when the celebrations started, Sara’s family stayed home. “Even though Khamenei was a terrible man, it felt barbaric to celebrate his death,” she said, her voice clear and hard. “I couldn’t dance.”

She paused, staring hard at the roses and candles on the kitchen table. “The community’s emotions have been overtaken by their elation: it’s drowning out the sense.

“I’m relieved Khamenei is gone, of course I am,” she rushed to clarify, “But I feel a sense of doom over what is happening and what will happen next: America has a repertoire of starting fires that it doesn’t put out.”

Despite – or rather, because of – the waves of euphoria sweeping the Iranian diaspora, Sara will only talk on condition of anonymity.

“The diaspora is very loud,” she said. “Families at the school gate wave flags and chant, and I can’t join in. Our buildings aren’t being blown up around us; our neighbouring countries aren’t being invited in to attack us; we don’t live alongside separatist groups who could now start a civil war, or have to fear that our young people will seek vengeance.”

She even worried the celebrations could be premature: “Is the US really going to be able to get rid of the whole regime?” she asked. “Because otherwise, it will come down even harder on the people.”

Her father, Geff*, nodded. The 72-year-old worked in both the shah’s and the Islamic Republic’s governments until he was able to leave the country with his young family in 1987.

He, too, is conflicted. “I have two different feelings: no one likes their country to be attacked by another nation but the Iranian people have no choice: how else can we get rid of a regime that kills 40,000 of its own young people when they’re protesting peacefully?”

Geff has no illusions about Donald Trump’s motivations for starting the war. “We know the USA isn’t coming to help us; they’re coming to help themselves,” he said. “But we have the same interests and whatever they take in payment for giving us our freedom, there will still be something left – which is more than the nothing we have now.”

Although he is disappointed by the British government’s attitude towards the regime, Geff still feels love for the country that has given his family sanctuary.

But for Kimia Movahedi, the war has fundamentally shifted her allegiances: “I never previously thought of Trump as a good character but now he has my love because he is the only leader who has stood up to the regime.” >>>