Cruz Shocks Washington: Arm Iranian Protesters or Watch Democracy Die

Paul Riverbank, 1/28/2026Washington debates arming Iranian protesters as violence, fear, and regional tensions rapidly escalate.

In Washington, the mood is unambiguous. Senator Ted Cruz took to X to argue, “We should be arming the protesters in Iran. NOW.” His logic connects Iran’s leadership straight to threats facing Americans and insists, “If [the people] succeed in expelling the Ayatollah—a tyrant who’s made a habit of shouting ‘death to America’—our country becomes much safer.” Whatever one thinks of Cruz’s style, he tamped down any ambiguity.

Back in Iran, those desperate for change dispatch pleas in encrypted fragments: “It’s not enough to shout; they have grenades, rifles—while we have our bare hands,” one protester messaged a friend recently exiled. Another text was starker still: “Even stepping onto the pavement outside, it’s a coin toss. They shoot without warning, and God help you if you’re seen assembling with others.” Hope lingers, if only faintly, but so does a grim practicality: “Bravery? We’re way past that now.”

Meanwhile, the debate in Congress grows more fraught with each passing day and each new report of violence on Iranian streets. Iran’s influence isn’t contained by its own borders. The long shadow it casts reaches into neighboring countries. Abu Hussein al-Hamidawi, one leader among several Iranian-backed militia groups, made sure his threats weren't lost in translation: “We will strike terror in your hearts… nothing of you will remain.” Not exactly subtle. His followers recently posted footage of a burning cargo ship with just one word layered above the flames: “Soon.”

This isn’t just about Iran, of course. Political sands are shifting in Baghdad, worsened by talk of Nouri al-Maliki returning to lead Iraq. The White House, never known for understatement, got straight to the point. President Trump fired off a warning: “If [Maliki] is elected, the United States of America will no longer help Iraq and, if we are not there to help, Iraq has ZERO chance of Success, Prosperity, or Freedom.” For those who remember Maliki’s previous stint in office, the warning isn’t just hyperbole—chaos and hardship marked his last tenure.

U.S. diplomats, in turn, find themselves in near-constant dialogue with counterparts in Baghdad, straining to steer Iraq away from the influence of Tehran’s proxy groups. These militias aren’t easily pushed aside; they’re woven into the political life of Iraq, as Secretary of State Marco Rubio recently reminded a press corps: “A government controlled by Iran cannot successfully put Iraq’s own interests first.” It’s an old dilemma, but one that has taken on new urgency.

The air in Iraqi Kurdistan is thick with anxiety; Kurds here speak of “live wires sparking everywhere.” The knowledge that alliances can shift or skirmishes can break out with little warning keeps tempers frayed and nerves on edge, even as some local leaders quietly pray for a more cautious hand in Washington.

Inside Iran, family members still search for loved ones who vanished weeks ago. For many, this ends not with official paperwork but dashed hope. Some find closure in half-truths, others only in silence—no body to claim, no grave to tend. “People pray for outside help, but it’s a slow prayer, often unanswered,” says one activist, voice ragged over a faint connection to Europe.

Decision-makers in Washington walk a tightrope they know too well: intervene and risk a wider conflagration, or hold back and watch events spiral. Neither path comes with guarantees. Every day, the situation inside Iran grows more precarious. Leaders talk in late-night meetings about support, about consequences, about history rarely leaving space for easy answers. But with every new tragedy that crosses the border into public consciousness, pressure mounts—sometimes gently, but more often as a fist banging on the doors of power, demanding action.

Fear now colors daily life in Tehran, creeping out even in the brightness of midday. Where once a city teemed with traffic and noisy debate, silence now clings to the avenues. Uniformed men, rifles in hand, stand where students and shopkeepers used to gather. Even the sun's presence offers no comfort; the risk of a sudden gunshot or an ominous chant floating through the air remains unchanged. From one tightly-guarded apartment, a message filtered out: “Consider going outside? That’s suicide now, not courage. You might not make it the ten steps to your neighbor’s door.” The toll, according to human rights groups, has soared past 6,000 deaths—although privately, some activists suspect the number runs far higher.In Washington, the mood is unambiguous. Senator Ted Cruz took to X to argue, “We should be arming the protesters in Iran. NOW.” His logic connects Iran’s leadership straight to threats facing Americans and insists, “If [the people] succeed in expelling the Ayatollah—a tyrant who’s made a habit of shouting ‘death to America’—our country becomes much safer.” Whatever one thinks of Cruz’s style, he tamped down any ambiguity.Back in Iran, those desperate for change dispatch pleas in encrypted fragments: “It’s not enough to shout; they have grenades, rifles—while we have our bare hands,” one protester messaged a friend recently exiled. Another text was starker still: “Even stepping onto the pavement outside, it’s a coin toss. They shoot without warning, and God help you if you’re seen assembling with others.” Hope lingers, if only faintly, but so does a grim practicality: “Bravery? We’re way past that now.”Meanwhile, the debate in Congress grows more fraught with each passing day and each new report of violence on Iranian streets. Iran’s influence isn’t contained by its own borders. The long shadow it casts reaches into neighboring countries. Abu Hussein al-Hamidawi, one leader among several Iranian-backed militia groups, made sure his threats weren't lost in translation: “We will strike terror in your hearts… nothing of you will remain.” Not exactly subtle. His followers recently posted footage of a burning cargo ship with just one word layered above the flames: “Soon.”This isn’t just about Iran, of course. Political sands are shifting in Baghdad, worsened by talk of Nouri al-Maliki returning to lead Iraq. The White House, never known for understatement, got straight to the point. President Trump fired off a warning: “If [Maliki] is elected, the United States of America will no longer help Iraq and, if we are not there to help, Iraq has ZERO chance of Success, Prosperity, or Freedom.” For those who remember Maliki’s previous stint in office, the warning isn’t just hyperbole—chaos and hardship marked his last tenure.U.S. diplomats, in turn, find themselves in near-constant dialogue with counterparts in Baghdad, straining to steer Iraq away from the influence of Tehran’s proxy groups. These militias aren’t easily pushed aside; they’re woven into the political life of Iraq, as Secretary of State Marco Rubio recently reminded a press corps: “A government controlled by Iran cannot successfully put Iraq’s own interests first.” It’s an old dilemma, but one that has taken on new urgency.The air in Iraqi Kurdistan is thick with anxiety; Kurds here speak of “live wires sparking everywhere.” The knowledge that alliances can shift or skirmishes can break out with little warning keeps tempers frayed and nerves on edge, even as some local leaders quietly pray for a more cautious hand in Washington.Inside Iran, family members still search for loved ones who vanished weeks ago. For many, this ends not with official paperwork but dashed hope. Some find closure in half-truths, others only in silence—no body to claim, no grave to tend. “People pray for outside help, but it’s a slow prayer, often unanswered,” says one activist, voice ragged over a faint connection to Europe.Decision-makers in Washington walk a tightrope they know too well: intervene and risk a wider conflagration, or hold back and watch events spiral. Neither path comes with guarantees. Every day, the situation inside Iran grows more precarious. Leaders talk in late-night meetings about support, about consequences, about history rarely leaving space for easy answers. But with every new tragedy that crosses the border into public consciousness, pressure mounts—sometimes gently, but more often as a fist banging on the doors of power, demanding action.