ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Thomas Cantwell, a retired U.S. Army colonel, commanded U.S. forces tasked with protecting MEK members at Camp Ashraf in Iraq in 2003. He is a retired U.S. Army officer with combat service in Iraq and Afghanistan and a graduate of the U.S. Army War College.

In 2003, as one of the first U.S. Army commanders at Camp Ashraf in Iraq, I personally handed “protected persons” identity cards to members of the People’s Mojahedin Organization of Iran (PMOI/MEK). We asked them to disarm. In return, America gave its word: we would protect them.

Among those I came to know was Hossein Madani, a tireless spokesman who had studied in the United States and later became my friend. A decade later, Hossein was murdered — shot first in the abdomen, then executed with a bullet through the top of his head as he sat wounded and defenseless against a wall. Fifty-one others were killed with him. The Iraqi forces entrusted with their protection either looked away or pulled the triggers themselves.

I have carried that betrayal ever since.

Today, as Iran enters the most consequential phase of its uprising in generations, that memory has returned with renewed urgency. Because what is unfolding now is not another fleeting protest cycle. It is a nationwide confrontation whose outcome will determine whether Iran remains under the grip of religious fascism — or finally breaks free.

The uprising that erupted on Dec. 28, following the collapse of Iran’s currency, has shattered any illusion of a return to the status quo. What began with strikes by Tehran’s bazaar merchants against runaway inflation quickly spread to universities, industrial centers, and more than 400 cities. The slogans are unambiguous: “Death to the dictator—whether Shah or Supreme Leader.” Iranians are rejecting all forms of tyranny, old and new alike.

This is not spontaneous rage. It is organized resistance.

The Islamic Republic understands this better than many in the West. That is why it has responded with unprecedented brutality. Since the uprising began, thousands have been killed or wounded, tens of thousands detained, and executions have accelerated at a rate unseen in decades. The confirmed death toll stands at 3,000, though unofficial figures are several times that. The MEK has identified 1,000 martyrs so far, including 100 women and dozens of children. No fewer than 10 were members of the MEK Resistance Units.

Yet repression has failed to break the movement.

For more than four decades, the MEK has been the backbone of organized resistance inside Iran. Its network of Resistance Units — young men and women operating under extreme risk — has transformed public anger into sustained nationwide action. This was true in 2017, in November 2019 when roughly 1,500 protesters were massacred, and again in 2022 after Mahsa Amini was killed in police custody. Each time the regime shot to kill. Each time the people returned. Today, that cycle has reached the point of no return.

The regime’s obsession with destroying the MEK explains its crimes. Since 1981, more than 100,000 members and supporters have been executed. In the summer of 1988 alone, approximately 30,000 political prisoners, most of them MEK affiliates, were slaughtered in a matter of weeks. Survivors were hunted from Tehran to Camp Ashraf, and later into exile in Albania. And still, the movement endures.

Today, the MEK forms the core of the National Council of Resistance of Iran (NCRI), a broad coalition that has gained recognition from thousands of lawmakers and 137 former world leaders and heads of state across the United States and Europe as a viable democratic alternative. Its president-elect, Maryam Rajavi, has laid out a clear 10-point plan: free elections, separation of religion and state, gender equality, minority rights, abolition of the death penalty, and a non-nuclear Iran living in peace with its neighbors.

This is not abstract theory. It is a transition roadmap, forged by people who have paid in blood for every inch of political ground they hold.

The current uprising may prove the bloodiest yet. But it is also the most determined. Young Iranians — many born long after Hossein Madani received his “protected persons” card — are now confronting the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps with a courage that leaves no doubt about the direction of history.

The international community, and the United States in particular, faces a clear choice. We can repeat past failures: issue statements of concern, cling to illusions of reform, and watch as the regime attempts to drown a nation in blood. Or we can finally honor the promises we made — to the people of Camp Ashraf, and to the Iranian people as a whole.

That means standing unequivocally with those risking everything for freedom. It means recognizing the NCRI as the democratic alternative it has proven itself to be. And it means holding Iran’s leaders accountable for crimes against humanity.

In 2013, I wrote that abandoning Camp Ashraf left blood on American hands. Today, as a new generation is dying in Iran’s streets, the stain threatens to deepen.

I think often of Hossein. I think of the card I handed him, and the word I gave. He kept his. He remained committed to democracy until his final breath.

The least we can do is keep ours.