Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini and the entourage he brought home from exile just yesterday already are finding that their chief followers inside the country want to place a lampshade over the pure white light of revolution they brought with them from Paris.

There also seemed to be some of the inevitable problems of integrating the two teams that have been working for the same goal on separate, converging paths, inside and outside the country.

Without a hint of irony, an aide to Mehdi Bazargan, who has emerged as the chief political strategist of the Khomeini movement inside Iran, spoke to reporters of his group's feelings that an agreement seems to be possible between the Islamic movement and the army.

But, said his aide, Hossein Bani-Assadi, "an agreement... not a compromise. 'Compromise' is a word the iman [Khomeini] doesn't like. There won't be a compromise."

Only minutes before Bani-Assadi spoke, one of Khomeini's closest aides in Paris, Sadegh Ghotbzadeh, was saying in a waiting room at the Khomeini welcome committee headquarters that he did not know whether the ayatollah would receive any military officers, "but I doubt it."

To those who had been following his reasoning in France, the meaning was clear -- he doubted that his leader would do anything that hinted of a compromise with his adversaries.

Bani-Assadi was saying that "certain contacts and certain negotiations" already were going on with the military.

Ghotbzadeh told a group of reporters with microphones eagerly extended to get the latest word on Khomeini's thinking and doings as they used to in France: "I don't know anything. I'll try to find out. I'm still busy just finishing kissing people."

A little man fingering worry beads and wearing a white turban and flowing brown robes brushed into the waiting room and said angrily, "All the journalists should know that it is not allowed here in this building for any interviews."

The same man was in an inside room listening in with no hint of displeasure as Bani-Assadi addressed the press minutes later.

Bani-Assadi said that if Prime Minister Shahpour Bakhtiar had only resigned earlier, there were chances that he might have been included in the next government but that now it is too late. That was in direct contradiction with what Ghotbzadeh had said in France: that there was no question of the ayatollah accepting in his government a man who had let himself be appointed by the shah.

A friend of Ghotbzadeh's who had stayed inside the country said. "I admire Sadegh. He's a great revolutionary.But I don't know what role he could play in the government."

The man talking was one of Bazargan's team of young technocrats with the anti-shah credentials, administrative authority and technical expertise they feel is sufficient to run Khomeini's government smoothly by themselves, without excessive consideration either for the Moslem clerics -- "the old turbans," as they call them -- or for the revolutionary purists who were in exile so long that they have lost touch with the country.

Now that Khomeini is back inside, the Western-educated leaders in the movement that fought in his name apparently believe they can avoid being embarrassed by their leader as they were when he was abroad. Bazargan and others made several deals with Bakhtiar or the military, only to have the ayatollah flatly dismiss them. The most spectacular example was the deal last week to have Bakhtiar go to France to seek Khomeini's advice.

Khomeini, who keeps stressing the need for continued unity to consolidate his victories over the government, must also deal with the special sensibilities of the other important ayatollahs, or religious leaders, some of whom have been ayatollahs far longer than he has. None of the major ayatollahs from Qom, Iran's chief holy city, was at the airport to greet Khomeini yesterday.

Bakhtiar has made it clear to those who have seen him that he is banking on such divisions in the Islamic movement to reverse the situation in the government's favor.

Bakhtiar is also apparently banking on people growing tired of Khomeini's intransigence and constant rejection of compromises.

Back in Paris, the ayatollah's aide doubted that approach would work for Bakhtiar. After Khomeini had told the prime minister not to visit him in Paris, Ghotbzadeh said, "The Iranian people know very well why he says these 'noes.' All these 'noes' are only one 'no' to the entire regime."

Meanwhile, Ghotbzadeh, who has lived in Paris for nine years, is apparently undergoing a form of culture shock. An old friend said he had asked, "Where are the cafes?" Ghotbzadeh apparently was not aware that SAVAK, the secret police, had managed to have most of them shut down to prevent people from meeting in small groups, where they might plot against the shah.

The old friend also warned Ghotbzadeh that he has enemies here, saying, "I hope you're not sleeping at home, and I hope you check your car for bombs."

The Khomeini aide -- who once was the object in Paris of a murder attempt attributed to SAVAK but who has not been bothered for years now -- replied, "Oh, come on, you're kidding."

In the waiting room this morning at the drab former girls' school where Khomeini slept last night, there were also several less important aides who had come in from France with Khomeini. They were waiting along with reporters to get past the guards of the welcome committee.

Ibrahim Yazdi, who had served as Khomeini's press spokesman -- even though there was a sign outside the door of the French headquarters saying, "Khomeini has no spokesmen" -- found that others were doing the announcing today. Younger veterans of exile were waiting for their new assignments.

"In Paris we were running things," said a student who returned on the plane with Khomeini. "Here I can't help you." He, too, was waiting at the door.