TEHRAN – A high-paying job, a nice car, a big home, a fulfilling marriage, or healthy children – these are some of the most common aspirations for adults in society. But for 67-year-old Issa Azadeh, much of his life revolved around far simpler desires. “My biggest wish was to sleep comfortably for a few hours,” he recounted during an interview with the Tehran Times.

Issa kept his eyes on the floor as we started talking. It was hard to read him at all. He seemed like a jumble of things: anxious, numb, angry, regretful… but then you’d see a flicker of hope in there somewhere. Before delving into his experiences with the Mujahideen-e-Khalq (MEK), a terrorist organization known for its dogmatic indoctrination and isolated, tightly controlled environment, he said he wanted people everywhere to understand how dangerous the MEK really is, both for those who join and for the world beyond its walls.

“When I entered the MEK I was highly educated,” he explained. “I was a university graduate, and I had a family, job, and social connections. But after my involvement with the organization all that was lost. There, Masoud Rajavi tried to reduce the members to nothing, devoid of character, dignity, and honor.”

Introduced to the MEK after the 1979 Islamic Revolution while studying engineering at a prominent Tehran university, Issa joined the organization under the influence of a friend and became a high-ranking member over a 38-year period. He spent two decades at Camp Ashraf in Iraq during Saddam Hussein’s invasion of Iran, until its dismantling in 2003 by Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki. After the camp’s closure, Issa, along with other MEK members, moved to Camp Liberty near Baghdad. He ultimately left the MEK before its relocation to Albania in 2016.

Issa says almost every single day he spent with the MEK was tiring, humiliating, and dehumanizing.
“We would all wake up at 5 a.m. to the sound of a shrill wind instrument. It was incredibly jarring. We had about 20 minutes to get ready and eat breakfast. Then, our exhausting day began. We had to clean the area, guard the camp, and carry out missions outside. Our only entertainment was watching the group’s propaganda on TV for two 30-minute segments.” The TV remote was kept locked in a box; a precaution that seemed unnecessary. After all, only the person responsible for the TV schedule knew how to use it.

Issa said the most difficult part of the day was the joint self-criticism sessions. “One of the biggest taboos was having sexual thoughts. We were forced to dissect our feelings, describe our fantasies in detail, and express repeated regret. Then, the others would join in, and one by one start scolding us too.”

Forced divorces followed by forced marriages

Typical of leaders like Rajavi, the man was obsessed with sex. Initially, he ordered some members of the organization to marry each other. However, after realizing that marriage and family preoccupied the minds of those he considered his devoted followers, he decreed that everyone should divorce. Rajavi later declared that all women in the group had become his wives, a claim substantiated by former female members of the MEK who reported frequent sexual abuse and exploitation orchestrated by Rajavi himself.

“The divorce process the members were forced to endure was one of the most inhumane and unbelievable events imaginable,” Issa stated. He had not taken his wife and kids with him to the camp, but he was still required to divorce his wife in his mind. “Couples within the organization were made to stand facing each other and then ordered to hurl vile profanities at one another.” Reflecting Iranian cultural norms, where men typically avoid cursing in front of women, Issa declined to repeat the exact words for me. “Even those who were not married, either within or outside the organization, were ordered to undergo a ‘mental divorce.'”

Soon after, strict segregation was enforced. Men and women were required to use separate routes within the camp to minimize contact. “There was a gas station inside the Ashraf camp where we refueled the vehicles used for patrols. We were not even allowed to visit the gas station on the same day,” Issa revealed.

The mass “marriage” of MEK women to Rajavi occurred sometime after contact between men and women was cut off. Rajavi’s own wife, Maryam Qajar-Azdanlu – having herself divorced Rajavi’s friend to then become Rajavi’s wife after a scandalous affair – was the key figure in manipulating the other women into accepting their “sacred” duty: sexual submission to their leader.

“I didn’t know this was happening when I was still part of the organization, because I rarely spoke to the women there. Also, there’s often a great deal of shame involved in admitting to being sexually assaulted. When a former female member of the MEK publicly broke the news a few years ago, it was very difficult for me to process, even though I had always known that Rajavi was a perverted and corrupt individual.”

The Taliban and Daesh were less oppressive towards women than the MEK, Issa said. While no one within the organization enjoyed rights or privacy, women were treated as particularly disposable.
“People often ask individuals like me why we didn’t leave the organization sooner,” Issa said as he looked at me with a bitter smile. “To those observing the MEK from the outside, it’s crucial to understand the complete loss of self that occurs within its walls. You are forced to abandon your identity, to erase your past and all those you once cherished. Inside, Masoud Rajavi’s orders become your only reality.”

Children that were killed, trafficked, or indoctrinated

In 1990, Rajavi took another crucial step to subjugate MEK members: He ripped kids away from their parents. These kids lived in separate compounds near their parents’ headquarters in Iraq.
“There were about 700, all different ages. They were just put on buses and shipped off to Jordan,” Issa said. What followed was a tragedy. Some never made it, some were exploited by human traffickers, others became entangled in crime, and some ended up in brothels. Roughly 300 were left, either sent to distant relatives or relegated to MEK-owned housing in Europe.
Years later, some of those kids, who’d grown up hearing Rajavi’s propaganda and idealized stories of their parents’ “heroic” actions, ended up joining the MEK. Their view of the whole thing? Like something out of a bad Hollywood movie. They, however, managed to come to their senses soon. “Many of them eventually left the MEK again. I believe they were wiser than their parents.”

Now in their 40s, some of these former child members have recently begun to share their experiences. They frequently face threats from the organization, and are blamed for being “ungrateful”.

MEK’s ‘missions’ funded by the U.S.

Like many who joined the revolution against the Shah, Rajavi lacked the popular support to gain prominence in the new political system after the monarchy was toppled. However, what set him apart was the United States’ interest in using him to destabilize Iran, which began during his imprisonment under the Shah.

The MEK was initially formed by leftist students in 1965. “Rajavi was cultivated by the CIA as early as his imprisonment in 1971 during the Pahlavi era. He became the group’s leader in 1979,” Issa said. He added that the CIA believed purely communist groups, some of which were formed under the influence of the Soviet Union during the Shah’s reign, lacked appeal for the highly religious Iranian population. Therefore, someone with opposing ideologies to the Islamic Republic but a similar religious appearance was needed. This, according to Issa, is the origin of the MEK’s religious facade.

Rajavi left Iran in 1981 after he failed in two bids for power: a presidential campaign and a parliamentary seat. What followed next was a descent into terrorism. Orchestrating high-profile assassinations—under the order and support of the CIA —Rajavi turned the MEK against its own people. The targets were not just political leaders and military commanders; ordinary Iranians became victims in a brutal killing spree. The MEK’s hands are now stained with the blood of approximately 23,000 and their collaboration with Saddam Hussein in Iraq deepened the wound, as they helped him inflict further casualties on their homeland.

The organization’s operational capabilities, however, are now significantly diminished. The MEK has struggled to recruit younger generations, and its remaining members in Albania are primarily elderly and infirm. “I believe approximately 2,000 members remain with the organization. Some are unable to manage their daily lives due to illness or old age. A small number of younger members are primarily involved in cyber activities,” Issa stated.

As of 2025, the MEK is also exploiting vulnerable young people in Iran, particularly those with troubled pasts or financial hardships, by paying them to perform simple tasks within the country. These tasks include acts of public display, such as hanging posters of Masoud Rajavi or Maryam Qajar-Azdanlu in prominent locations like Tehran highways, which the MEK then promotes on its website.

For payment, these young individuals also set fire to governmental buildings, mosques, educational centers, and public transport, with their arson attacks reaching a high point during the fall 2022 unrest.

“The U.S. and its European allies who prop up these terrorists know that the MEK cannot bring down Iran. Anyone who thinks otherwise is deluding themselves,” Issa stated. “Right now, the MEK is nothing more than a bargaining chip for them, a pressure point they hope will force Iran into concessions.”

Issa left Iraq and the MEK on December 26, 2011, at exactly 4:30 PM. “I left on my birthday. A relative I had in the UK got in touch with the UNHCR and UNAMI in Baghdad and arranged my exit in secret.”

Adapting to life outside the MEK camps was difficult initially. Having been isolated from technology and modern life, Issa faced ridicule. “People used to laugh at me,” he said. “They could not believe that I did not know how to operate a TV, a mobile phone, or anything else that was not widely used in Iran in the early 80s.”

Issa had one daughter and one son when he left to join the MEK. His young daughter’s visit was a catalyst for his eventual departure from the group. “One day my daughter came to Iraq. It was during the war there. I remember it was scorching hot, almost 60 degrees.”

Issa’s daughter reached the area near Camp Ashraf with the assistance of the Nejat Association, an NGO formed by former MEK members to help those still inside escape the organization’s influence. “My daughter stood outside the Ashraf camp, behind the fences. The organization refused to let her see me, and they didn’t even tell me she was there. Later, they informed me they’d prevented the visit to avoid demotivating me. This was a significant turning point, although it took several years before I finally left.”

Tehran Times, Sheida Sabzehvari