Sen. Cruz Demands US Arms for Iranians: Time to Stand Up to Tehran

Paul Riverbank, 1/28/2026Ted Cruz urges U.S. arms for Iranian protesters, ramping up debate as Tehran’s crackdown intensifies.

Vivid accounts—hardly distinguishable from rumor, but persistent and urgent—sketch neighborhoods where protest once brewed, now hollowed out by dread. “No one dares linger, even near the square,” a contact remarked. “They shoot to kill, and then make what’s left serve as a warning.”

Thousands of miles away in Washington, it’s the sort of atmosphere that has begun to breach the insulating walls of congressional offices. Senator Ted Cruz, never one for hedged statements, took to social media with a challenge few colleagues dare echo: “Arm the Iranian protesters. Do it, and do it now.” He framed the stakes not in the round terms of distant empathy but drew a straight, if audacious, line from Ayatollah Khamenei to threats against the U.S. “An Iran run by its own people would make America that much safer,” Cruz declared—though even in the capital, there’s debate over whether such an intervention would protect or imperil American interests.

For the men and women still trapped in the crosshairs, foreign lawmakers are as distant as another planet. “We cannot win with sticks,” one desperate plea spelled out. “They have the guns—and they use them.” These voices, raw and unvarnished, echo for anyone bothering to listen.

Meanwhile, Iran’s posture is anything but defensive. In Baghdad, tension has climbed several rungs higher, palpable even in the overheated marble corridors of parliament. Nouri al-Maliki’s name once again appears on meeting agendas, sending shivers through American policy circles. U.S. officials, alarm cranked up to near maximum, recently delivered pointed warnings via backchannels: an Iraqi cabinet in the hands of Tehran’s allies, they insist, risks not just sanctions, but something closer to pariah status.

One Kurdish figure described the mood in Baghdad as “edgy, wires exposed,” and hinted at unspoken calculations behind every handshake and adjournment. No one wants to be thrown by a sudden American pivot toward confrontation—or worse, caught flat-footed if Washington instead chooses restraint.

As if to sharpen the stakes, Iranian-backed militias have issued their own warnings. Abu Hussein al-Hamidawi, a figure whose rhetoric stops just short of outright declaration, thundered, “We will strike terror in your hearts… nothing of you will remain.” And then there are the videos: a ship ablaze in the Red Sea, captioned not with specifics but the single, ominous word—“Soon.”

Calls for intervention, whether born of principle or calculation, are growing less scholarly by the hour. John Bolton, never shy about military solutions, went on air with a bracing prescription: not one surgical strike, but a campaign to grind down Iran’s ability to project terror—both regionally and, perhaps more crucially, against its own people. “One strike isn’t enough,” he argued, suggesting tangible hits would stiffen the Iranian opposition and spook those clinging to the regime’s apparatus.

And so, American policy teeters on a delicate edge, somewhere between harsh rhetoric and cold calculus. Is it to be force, finesse, or a feverish blend of both? There’s little consensus, only haggling over which risks are worth taking.

For those risking everything back in Iran, however, the wait for Western action has grown unbearable. Every phone call that gets through, every encrypted message, might be a last. “We lose more lives every day—there are families who’ve found no trace, not even bodies left behind. To try is to die.”

All this suggests the next act is poised somewhere between tragedy and the possibility, however faint, of change. It is, as one wary Baghdadi politician put it with a bitter smile, “a time that calls for new definitions of strength.” In these uncertain hours, perhaps the only sure thing is that events will either be shaped by strong hands—or sweep away those who hesitate.

There’s a new kind of fear haunting Tehran’s streets, and it doesn’t dissipate with the sunrise. People there have learned that courage looks different when the threat comes not just from the night, but at high noon—when armed men patrol openly, and the old city’s gray facades echo with the crack of live ammunition. One whispered message, covertly sent and soon smuggled out, was blunt: “Stepping outside now is madness, not valor. Go out, and there’s a muzzle flash in your face.” The old idea of heroic protest has, for many, tipped into something much closer to desperation. Six thousand dead, say activists; some say more, and the count creeps up every single day.Vivid accounts—hardly distinguishable from rumor, but persistent and urgent—sketch neighborhoods where protest once brewed, now hollowed out by dread. “No one dares linger, even near the square,” a contact remarked. “They shoot to kill, and then make what’s left serve as a warning.”Thousands of miles away in Washington, it’s the sort of atmosphere that has begun to breach the insulating walls of congressional offices. Senator Ted Cruz, never one for hedged statements, took to social media with a challenge few colleagues dare echo: “Arm the Iranian protesters. Do it, and do it now.” He framed the stakes not in the round terms of distant empathy but drew a straight, if audacious, line from Ayatollah Khamenei to threats against the U.S. “An Iran run by its own people would make America that much safer,” Cruz declared—though even in the capital, there’s debate over whether such an intervention would protect or imperil American interests.For the men and women still trapped in the crosshairs, foreign lawmakers are as distant as another planet. “We cannot win with sticks,” one desperate plea spelled out. “They have the guns—and they use them.” These voices, raw and unvarnished, echo for anyone bothering to listen.Meanwhile, Iran’s posture is anything but defensive. In Baghdad, tension has climbed several rungs higher, palpable even in the overheated marble corridors of parliament. Nouri al-Maliki’s name once again appears on meeting agendas, sending shivers through American policy circles. U.S. officials, alarm cranked up to near maximum, recently delivered pointed warnings via backchannels: an Iraqi cabinet in the hands of Tehran’s allies, they insist, risks not just sanctions, but something closer to pariah status.One Kurdish figure described the mood in Baghdad as “edgy, wires exposed,” and hinted at unspoken calculations behind every handshake and adjournment. No one wants to be thrown by a sudden American pivot toward confrontation—or worse, caught flat-footed if Washington instead chooses restraint.As if to sharpen the stakes, Iranian-backed militias have issued their own warnings. Abu Hussein al-Hamidawi, a figure whose rhetoric stops just short of outright declaration, thundered, “We will strike terror in your hearts… nothing of you will remain.” And then there are the videos: a ship ablaze in the Red Sea, captioned not with specifics but the single, ominous word—“Soon.”Calls for intervention, whether born of principle or calculation, are growing less scholarly by the hour. John Bolton, never shy about military solutions, went on air with a bracing prescription: not one surgical strike, but a campaign to grind down Iran’s ability to project terror—both regionally and, perhaps more crucially, against its own people. “One strike isn’t enough,” he argued, suggesting tangible hits would stiffen the Iranian opposition and spook those clinging to the regime’s apparatus.And so, American policy teeters on a delicate edge, somewhere between harsh rhetoric and cold calculus. Is it to be force, finesse, or a feverish blend of both? There’s little consensus, only haggling over which risks are worth taking.For those risking everything back in Iran, however, the wait for Western action has grown unbearable. Every phone call that gets through, every encrypted message, might be a last. “We lose more lives every day—there are families who’ve found no trace, not even bodies left behind. To try is to die.”All this suggests the next act is poised somewhere between tragedy and the possibility, however faint, of change. It is, as one wary Baghdadi politician put it with a bitter smile, “a time that calls for new definitions of strength.” In these uncertain hours, perhaps the only sure thing is that events will either be shaped by strong hands—or sweep away those who hesitate.