Eyewitness: Zarif Welcomed Home With Cheers and Celebrations

On Sunday, when it was reported that the foreign minister Javad Zarif and the nuclear negotiators were returning from Geneva, I very much wanted to go to the airport to welcome them, but I didn’t know how to go, or with whom. Then I took a peek at Facebook and found out that the idea of welcoming Zarif was not mine alone: many were eager to go. I arranged to go with some friends. One promised to bring a car; another said she would bring along some joyful music and songs about Iran.

First people said the plane carrying the nuclear team would land at 6pm. I was figuring out how to twist my boss’ arm and leave. Shortly after we heard they would land at 8:30pm. At 6:30, four friends and I prepared to go. It was rush hour: it took us an hour and ten minutes to get from Haft-e Tir Square to the Mehrabad Airport, a very short distance. On the way I was wondering: how many people would be there? What if very few came and our presence would be wasted?

When we arrived at the airport, several police cars were parked in front of the exit for the government pavilion. We parked the car and headed on foot towards the meeting point. There were people there, maybe about 100. Most were young, like my friends and me, but there were a few older people as well. Somebody was distributing pictures of Rouhani and we took four. There were many photographers there. We raised Rouhani pictures in front of our faces and the photographers took lots of pictures.

Little by little, more people arrived. It was 8 o’clock and the crowd had grown four or five times larger. Very slowly, kids began to chant all kind of slogans. There were slogans in support of Zarif and other members of the negotiating team and there were slogans against the hardline newspaper Keyhan, against Israel and against Said Jalili, the previous chief negotiator. To be honest, the slogans against Keyhan and Jalili were much more amusing than others. More people chanted them than the other slogans. It seemed they held grudges against Jalili and Hoseein Shariatmadari, the managing editor of Keyhan.

Eight Years’ Worth of Thanks

“Keyhan, Israel, condolences, condolences” and “Jalili, Jalili, get the lesson, get the lesson” were the most popular chants. As we were shouting, I looked at my friends and others and noticed that they were smiling.

We did, of course, chant slogans in support of Zarif and his team:

 “Our minister is Zarif, to six countries he is the chief!

 “Welcome back our diplomat champion!”

“No insult, no sanctions, no war, no surrender!”

“Welcome, welcome, protector of the nation!”

“Up with the diplomat; up with the reform!”

Some people were holding up paper signs with amusing sentences and phrases written on them. The photographers loved them and took hundreds of pictures. “Dr Zarif, a thank you as big as eight years,” read one. “Iran will live as long as people like Zarif lives,” said another. People held signs that read: “Greetings to the ambassador of peace,” “Greetings to Khatami, Greeting to Rouhani” and “Condolences to Netanyahu and Shariatmadari.”

Other slogans brought back memories of the Green Movement. People sang the students’ solidarity song “The Schoolmate”. They chanted slogans in support of Mir Hossein Moussavi and political prisoners: “After the Geneva accord, on to Mir Hossein, people shouted, and “Political prisoners must go free”. They shouted slogans against the official radio and TV network. Of course, not everybody joined us in chanting these slogans. Some objected and said this was not the place for them.

Fear No Police

A fascinating emotion came over me last night as we were chanting: I was fearful down in my belly but in spite of it, I shouted slogans at the top of my voice, right into the face of policemen who were standing there. They left us alone and that felt so delightful. The police presence was so big that at first I had thought they wanted to confront and disperse us.

We were so busy chanting that we failed to notice it was already near 10pm and there was no news from Zarif and his team. I went to the edge of the curb and looked in both directions. The crowd had grown a lot. Finally, a few minutes later, a black BMW made its way through the crowd. We all looked carefully to see who was in the car. Zarif and Abbas Araaghchi, a member of the negotiating team, were the only two people whom my friends and I could have recognised, but as the cars passed, somebody near us offered up some names: Mohammad Nahavandian, chief of staff to the president, Mesbahi Moghaddam, a committee chairman in parliament, and Mohammad Shariatmadari, advisor to Khamenei. It was assumed that they were among officials who had come to welcome Zarif and his team.

A few minutes later, another car arrived and the chanting picked up: “Diplomat hero, welcome back to Iran!” As the car approached, we increased our chanting and waved our hands. People said it was Majid Takht Ravanchi, a member of the negotiating team. He waved back.

The last person to appear was Javad Zarif in a big white automobile. Before he reached us some people threw esfand seeds, which are believed to protect against the “evil eye”, onto the  charcoal burning in a big brazier; its pleasant aroma filled the air.

As Zarif’s car approached, we started to scream, chant and wave our hands with all the energy  we could muster. Zarif’s guard was standing in front of the car window and the driveway was crowded we could not get a glimpse of him. We only saw his hand, which was stretched out of the car. He passed through the crowd and, as he did, we all followed his car and began shouting “We like Zarif, We like Zarif” (a play on words as “zarif” means “elegant” and “graceful”). When Zarif was gone, the ceremony was over. People walked towards their cars to leave.

It was a memorable night. When I got home I logged on to Facebook to write about the airport and the slogans, but I saw that I had been preempted: everybody had already posted videos, pictures and slogans. Zarif himself had posted his thanks to us. “I am really ashamed that my guards did not allow me out of the car,” his post said. “Nothing would have been sweeter than to meet you up close.”