In their memory, I want to share part of my own story, which I write about in my upcoming autobiography, *Mojahedin Child*.

That day, I was seventeen years old and was at the People’s Mojahedin’s Bagherzadeh camp in Iraq.

After yet another long and exhausting leadership meeting, we had been given time for training. I was standing by a soccer field when one of our higher commanders, who was called Brother Kamal, came running with some papers in his hand. He was out of breath and excited. He gathered us and read aloud the news that a passenger plane had flown into one of the World Trade Center towers.

All around me, people began clapping their hands, whistling, and cheering.

When he returned with the news of the attack on the second tower, the cheering erupted again. Training was canceled. We were ordered to prepare for a celebration.

We put on our green uniforms and gathered in the hall called “40 Columns.” The tables were set with cakes and pastries. Music was playing. Some had started dancing Kurdish dances.

On TV screens around the hall, images were shown of the planes flying into the towers. The fire. The smoke. The same sequences, over and over again.

Every time the planes hit, people stood up, applauded, and cheered. Between the tables, others walked around offering cakes.

I myself felt no joy.

I was exhausted and numb after months of psychological pressure. I had grown up in Sweden and France. I felt no hatred toward the United States or the Western world. On the contrary, I liked American culture.

I stood there wondering what what had happened would mean for us. Up until then, I had believed that the Iranian regime was our real enemy. Now I saw a festive mood that I hadn’t even experienced after the Mojahedin’s most successful military operations. I hadn’t understood how deep the hatred toward the United States ran.

Toward evening, I left the celebration and went to the dormitory. The music and singing could be heard late into the night.

At a later meeting, I heard Massoud Rajavi describe the attacks as a “gift” to the Mojahedin members. He meant that the world’s attention would now shift from Iraq to Iran. I couldn’t understand his reasoning.

This is my own memory of what I saw, heard, and thought as a seventeen-year-old.

Today, twenty-five years later, I am also telling it to bear witness to what ideological hatred can do to people’s capacity for compassion. How people can be transformed into symbols of an enemy, until their death becomes something to celebrate.

But those who were killed that day were not “imperialism.” They were people. Each one had a name, a life, and people waiting for them.

Today, I want to let my memory of the cheering in that hall be met by something entirely different: sorrow for the victims, respect for those who tried to save others, and compassion for all who were left behind.

Their death was no victory. It was a human tragedy.

We must never forget.

Amir Yaghmai

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Amir Yaghmai rebuilt his life after leaving the MEK, but his childhood trauma never left him. Although he wrote his memoirs of his entangled life with the Cult of Rajavi in recent years and published them on social media, he still occasionally posts photos, notes. His notes from his experience in the MEK on his personal account on X, are not only interesting but also instructive. The following photos and notes are from Amir, who is in his forties, who shares his childhood experience in a terrorist cult with his audience in a profound way:

Amir Yaghmai in the MEK’s kindergarten

In ordinary families, family  photos are usually framed and placed on the wall or on the shelves; but in the environment where we grew up, that is, in the MEK bases, almost the only images that were allowed to be in front of our eyes were the images of the leaders of the organization: Massoud and Maryam Rajavi.

In this photo, I am playing with a toy instrument in one of the MEK bases in Paris. Behind me is a framed image of the wedding ceremony of Massoud and Maryam Rajavi in ​​Paris.

Even in the simple and childish moments of our lives, the presence of the organization’s leadership was constant; as if an image of family and personal life was not supposed to form in our minds, instead it had to be replaced with the image of “leadership”.

Children in the MEK’s kindergarten

Collective work was considered a value in the MEK; to the point that even we three- or four-year-old children in kindergarten were not exempt from it. They would give us a piece of cloth or a handkerchief and ask us to clean the radiators.

In this picture, I am the child standing in front, wearing a blue shirt and putting my hand over my mouth; as if I had already gotten sick of these forced tasks imposed on children.

This picture was taken around 1986, in one of the MEK kindergartens in Paris.

Photos of Maryam and Massoud Rajavi in the MEK’s kindergarten

Photos of Maryam and Massoud Rajavi on the wall in the MEK’s kindergarten

Around 1984, in the kindergarten of the MEK in Paris. I am the same child in the red dress and holding a balloon.

What attracts attention most in this photo is the atmosphere of the children’s playroom. On the walls, instead of cartoons, children’s characters, or paintings that would be appropriate for a child’s world, there are numerous photos of Massoud and Maryam Rajavi.

In one of the photos on the left, Massoud Rajavi is seen caressing the face of a child. From the very first years of life, we were taught that Massoud Rajavi was our ideological “father.” We grew up in an environment where the face and image of the leader of the organization were an inseparable part of everyday life and even the children’s playroom.

Today, when I look at this photo, the question that comes to mind most of all is why a kindergarten should be decorated with pictures of the leaders of a political organization instead of creating a world full of colors, stories, and children’s characters. This photo is not just an old photo for me; It is a document of an environment in which our childhood was tied to the ideology of the organization from the very beginning.

Mazda Parsi

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After the media of the Mujahedin-e Khalq (MEK) announced the death of Yazdan Teimorian, a 74-year-old member of the organization, on June 15, his daughter Sepideh published a letter on her Instagram account addressed to her late father in mourning for him, revealing dark aspects of the difficult and painful experience of the Yazdani family during the years of involvement with the MEK.

The letter that Sepideh Teimorian posted on her Instagram on the occasion of the death of her father, whom she had not seen since she was ten years old, points to the trip she and her sister went on to Albania in 2017 to visit their father, but during their week-long stay in the country, the MEK leaders did not allow them to visit their father. She further writes for her late father: “It later became clear that you were not even informed of our presence. This was revealed when a social worker, during a medical visit, discussed it with you. It was recorded on video, which I only saw later.”

Sepideh Teimorian’s post on Instagram for her late father

Ali PourAhmad, a former member of the MEK, explains how the Teimorians fell apart following Yazdan’s membership in the MEK. According to him, Sahar and Sepideh are his second and third children who were smuggled from Iraq to Europe and North America in 1992, at the age of 11 and 10, along with hundreds of other MEK children. Sahar and Sepideh were taken to the Netherlands and, like other MEK children, probably wandered among MEK sympathizers, Dutch foster families, or orphanages. The family’s first child, Musa Teimorian, later left the organization. Their mother, Aghdas Adnani also left the MEK.

Sepideh Teimorian, distressed by her father’s bitter and painful fate, asks for peace after death in her post: “A peace that may have been out of reach during your lifetime.”

Mazda Parsi

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Pluralistic democracy is, by definition, a political system in which there is more than one center of power. Modern democracies are pluralistic by definition because democratic systems allow freedom of associations and parties. But the half-century history of the MEK’s activities has shown that there is only one center of power in the group, and that is Massoud Rajavi, who is at the top of the organizational pyramid, followed by Maryam Rajavi and then some higher-ranking members of the group’s hierarchy.

Establishing justice in a society is not possible without deepening democracy, and in an organization like the MEK, which is run hierarchically, democracy is sacrificed first and then justice is gone. Discrimination is one of the definitive consequences of such a structure. Although the MEK, with its uniformed forces and the use of titles such as “Sister Mujahed” and “Brother Mujahed,” tries to hide its structural injustices, members who have left the group have repeatedly testified about the severe inequalities between the higher-ranking members and commanders of the group compared to the lower-ranking members and subordinate forces.

Aylin Moghadam, a former member of the MEK, was a child soldier who served the MEK for many years. In her posts on her X social media account, she writes about the extreme injustices and the discriminating system of access to facilities in Rajavi’s cult:

The authorities of the MEK eat well, but the rest of the ranks eat beef. Mehdi Abrishamchi and his daughter Ashraf Abrishamchi have natural fruit juice for breakfast. Of course, high-ranking officials like Faezeh Ranjkar, Sedigheh Hosseini, and Zohreh Akhiani all have special diets and are never the subject of any criticism session. And whether in Ashraf Iraq or Ashraf 3, they always stay in air-conditioned rooms, but the rest have air conditioning for just a few hours of the day and are mostly in the sun and in the heat, with terrible nutrition and $8 a month, the equivalent of Albanian money, with which they really can’t buy anything.

But in the wallets of the commanders there is at least a thousand dollars in cash. I said at least. In the wallets of people like Fahimeh Arvani there is even three thousand dollars in cash apart from credit cards. It is up to you!

 In addition, having a phone is free for the leadership council and high-ranking brothers, but it is forbidden for low-ranking forces!!

From these few lines written by Aylin, we can see that inequality in the MEK dominates all aspects of its members’ lives. As can be seen from the memories of other former members, this injustice in terms of nutrition, medical treatment, use of urban facilities, and enjoyment of entertainment has created a deep class gap between high-ranking and low-ranking members.

Also, in terms of enduring psychological pressure and organizational coercion, low-ranking members are greater and more numerous victims. In the pluralistic democracy claimed by the MEK, the number of underprivileged individuals is much greater than that of the well-off commanders and leaders.

Mazda Parsi

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Social psychologist Alexandra Stein, Ph.D., specializes in cult phenomena and teaches courses at several universities in London. Her article, “Mothers in Cults: The Influence of Cults on the Relationship of Mothers to Their Children,” examines the impact of the cult experience on the mother-child bond. Dr. Stein notes that this bond is controlled in multiple ways:

mothers are often discouraged from having a special bond with the child;

mothers may spend very little or no time with their children because of the demands of the cult;

the child is physically taken from the parents; and

mothers’ behavior toward their children is carefully monitored.

Stein writes: “Doing ‘the right thing’ (for God, the Revolution, one’s personal growth, whatever) becomes synonymous with obeying the leader. To go against the leader’s directive is to go against God himself. The mother becomes psychologically trapped: she wants to be a good person, but the definition of goodness resides entirely in the cult’s domain.

In 1991 around one thousand children of Mujahed couples were separated from their parents and smuggled to Europe and North America under the order of Massoud Rajavi. More than 3 hundred of the smuggled children were later, at the ages of 14 to 19, sent back to Iraq to receive military trainings at the MEK camps.

Amir Yaghmai is one of these former child soldiers who managed to leave the MEK fighting the group leaders as well as his own leader.

He wrote and published his memoirs of being born in a Mujahed family, grown up at camp Ashraf until his 5 year-old age, smuggled to Sweden, recruited as a child soldier at the age of fourteen.

His mother is still in the MEK’s cult-like structure. She resides in the group’s headquarters in Albania. She denies that Amir is her son because as Dr. Stein expresses, she is psychologically trapped; She wants to be a good person by the definition of goodness that Massoud and Rajavi define for MEK members.

At his forties, Amir Yaghmai is a father of two girls but he is still impressed by the behaviors of his brainwashed mother trying to shed light on the nature of the MEK as a destructive terrorist cult. Here is a short memoir Amir has recently published on his X account sharing a photo of him and his mother:

1994. I am around 10 years old.

My mother is in Sweden – on behalf of the organization.

For a few days she lives in their office.

On the last day we meet in Guldfynd in the center of Kista.

She asks what I wish for.

I choose a bronze Thor’s hammer.

She buys it for me.

I think it is a farewell between mother and son.

At the last moment, just before she says goodbye, she says:

“Amir, I didn’t come here to see you.

I am here on behalf of the organization.”

The world stops.

Everything goes in slow motion.

I remember every sensory impression –

how my breath evaporates in the chilly air,

exactly where I am standing on the uphill slope,

and above all how my heart breaks.

I wanted to feel needed.

After several years of absence, I thought she came for me.

But instead I was told that I was worth less than the organization.

A feeling that was confirmed over and over again during my upbringing.

Mazda Parsi

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These reports detail instances of children being subjected to military training, ideological indoctrination and participation in operations against Iran. The practice is a clear violation of international law, which defines a child soldier as any person under 18 years of age who is part of any regular and irregular armed force or group in any capacity.

The MEK has consistently denied these documents, claiming that individuals under 18 were not involved in combat and that minors in their camps were there for educational purposes!
However, testimonies from former child soldiers of the MEK and independent investigations contradict the denials, providing evidence of the systematic use of children in their ranks.

Amir Yaghmai, former child soldier of the MEK is one of the first individuals who testified against the MEK. He was of the four children of Mujahed parents whose story was documented in Sara Moin’s documentary, Children of Camp Ashraf.

Moin’s documentary highlights the experience of Amir as a child soldier, detailing his life within the MEK’s cult-like structure and the psychological impact on his upbringing. Amir also began writing his story on X social network.

This part of his memoirs indicates how the MEK child soldiers were manipulated by the group authorities and eventually emotionally dependent on the arms and ammunitions of the group’s army. Based on Amir’s testimony, when the US military wanted to disarm the MEK in 2003, arms had been so vital to the MEK members that a female member (a mother) handed her child soldier son to the American Colonel in exchange for the arms!

Amir Yaghmai writes:
“A female commander named Leila – who had sent me to Iraq from Paris – came forward, dragged one of the teenagers towards the colonel and shouted: ‘Please! Take my son, but don’t take our tanks! We need them for freedom!’ The boy, Amin, found himself between the Mujahideen and the Americans, looking at his mother and the Americans in amazement, not knowing which way to go. It was a strange scene, beyond this world as we know it.”

Amir quotes another child soldier named Hanif who cried at the American Colonel, “Peel my skin me alive! Break my teeth! But don’t take my tank!”
Child soldiers of extremist groups like the MEK develop a profound emotional dependency on their arms due to the complex interplay of psychological mind control. After years of isolation at Camp Ashraf, weapon had become a source of security in highly insecure and threatening situations. The MEK’s ideology always glorified armed struggle, imbuing weapons with a sacred or heroic significance, with had been deepened the Child soldier’s emotional bonds with their arms. This dependency made disarmament an extremely challenging for MEK members in particular child soldiers.

Mazda Parsi.

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On the eve of the American invasion to Iraq in 2003, Massoud Rajavi, called all members of Camp Ashraf to gather in a large hall. “He began by describing the sensitive political situation at the time and the serious threat posed by the United States against Iraq,” Amir Yaghmai writes in his memoirs. “He then said that in these circumstances, MEK members must maintain their focus and no longer be involved in the issue of defection or “cutting off” of individuals. Therefore, each member must sign a new contract in which he undertakes not to ask for leaving the group for the next two years.”

Amir was shocked. He had wanted to leave the MEK for years but hadn’t been able to. “Each time I had been forced to sign different contracts for different reasons,” he writes. However, this time, the matter was more serious than ever. Massoud Rajavi was officially ordering members to stay in the isolated Camp Ashraf. “You were supposed to keep your mouth shut for two years, not to express a single doubt.”

Amir told himself: “I won’t sign! They can do whatever they want! Take me to a confession session, quarantine me for two years, send me to Abu Ghraib prison, or hand me over to the regime! It doesn’t matter! I can’t take it anymore.”

This was also his response to his commander when he asked Amir to sign the contract. Consequently, Amir entered a traumatic cycle of bribery, threat, intimidation and humiliation.

First, the MEK leaders tried to bribe him promising to allow him to have a home in Baghdad, and to get married –the possessions that are forbidden for MEK members. This was a promise made by Maryam Rajavi, Massoud Rajavi’s third wife but it was presented to Amir by Mohammad, the son of Massoud who was also a child soldier and a friend of Amir’s.

Nevertheless, Amir replied Mohammad Rajavi: “I want to be free, to go for a walk without a barbed wire or a guard tower in front of me. To love. To sing. To wear the clothes I want. To see the world. I won’t go and regret the unseen. Not just to get married.”

When the first tactic did not work for the cult commanders, they tried to threat Amir and pressure him by intermediating an emotional tool: his mother.

“In a large room, around an oval-shaped conference table, the high-ranking commanders of the MEK were sitting: Ahmad Waqef, Mahmoud Ata’i, Fereshteh Yeganeh, Mahvash Sepehri, Mohammad Rajavi… and my mother!”, he pens.

Nasrin (Mahvash Sepehri) told Amir: “When you joined, your mother guaranteed that you would never leave us. Now she has to come with you, go into quarantine for two years, and then be sent to Iran with you. Then, she has to find a way back—if she gets arrested, she has to commit suicide.”

Amir shouted at them shouted: “You have no right to make my mother the victim of my decision! I am responsible for my own choices. I am twenty years old!”

Fereshteh Yeganeh opened a folder and showed him. His mother’s signature, and all the oaths he had been forced to sign over the years. Amir protested that all of this was by force. “If my mother is leaving with me, I am not leaving at all!” Amir told them. Nasrin replied emotionlessly, “If you want to stay, you have to defend your choice. We are not convinced yet.”

They kept Amir and his mother in the room for over 9 hours, until the dawn. During the entire hours, the commanders were insulting Amir, calling him “traitor”, spitting on his face and his mother was watching him with weeping eyes.

The next morning, Amir had been coerced to sign a new contract. “I signed a new contract which had nothing for me except humiliation,” he writes.

This is how he describes that night: “The night at Camp Ashraf, when just because I wanted to leave the organization, they made me go under the most severe stress, threat, insult, and humiliation. Worst of all, my mother, who was an old member, was also tortured before my eyes in order to force me to confess that I was wrong. Seeing tears and sufferings of my mother was one of the most painful moments of my life.”

The post The darkest night for an MEK child soldier appeared first on Nejat Society.

Focusing on those who have written and spoken to certain media about their experiences as child soldiers or orphaned children in Europe and North America, you may find certain names. The experiences of children raised within or affected by the MEK are complex and often involve significant trauma.

The individuals like Hanif Azizi, Amir Yaghmai, Atefeh Sebdani, Parvin Hosseini, Ray Torabi, and Amin Golmaryami, are among those who have publicly shared their experiences. Their accounts often detail the challenges of growing up in the MEK environment, including separation from parents, indoctrination, and the psychological impact of the group’s activities.

These individuals have written about their experiences as child soldiers or as orphaned children in Europe and North America.

The experiences of these individuals, and others like them, are documented in various forms, including books, documentaries, memoirs, interviews, and journalistic reports. These accounts provide insights into the MEK’s internal dynamics, the treatment of children, and the long-term consequences of their involvement.

The MEK’s practices have been criticized by human rights organizations and former members. These criticisms often focus on the group’s authoritarian structure, the separation of families, and the use of children in political and military activities. The experiences of those who have left the MEK, particularly those who were children within the group, are crucial for understanding the impact of the MEK’s actions as a cult-like extremist group.

The mentioned-people have contributed to a growing body of literature and personal accounts that shed light on the MEK’s activities and their impact on individuals and families. Their stories are important for raising awareness about the MEK’s practices and the challenges faced by those who have been affected by the group.

In response, the group accuses its former child soldiers of being agents of the Iranian government to demonize the MEK.

However, the available sources do not provide credible evidence to support the MEK’s claims that former MEK child soldiers are Iranian agents. The sources, particularly those critical of the MEK, suggest that the MEK’s accusations are part of a broader strategy of demonization and propaganda, rather than being based on verifiable facts.

The MEK has been accused of various misconducts, including human rights abuses, and has been designated as a terrorist organization by several countries. The group’s history of violence, its controversial alliances, and the allegations of cult-like behavior all contribute to a lack of trust in its claims.

In recent years, children of Mujahed parents have testified in various ways about the violations of the rights of children who were involved with the MEK. Their testimonies are now part of the reliable and documented sources for investigating the crimes of MEK leaders. These testimonies are available for use in the trial of Massoud and Maryam Rajavi in a fair court.

Mazda Parsi

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Iranians deeply resent the group for its continued embrace of terror, as well as its cult-like behavior. That its leader Maryam Rajavi has held her position for 40 years hardly builds confidence in her supposed commitment to democracy. There is an irony, too, that her spokesman Ali Safavi will cast wild aspersions against critics who question the group’s democratic credentials and outlook, but then refuse challenges to identify even a single time when he criticized or differed in policy with Rajavi.

Iranian Americans have contributed disproportionately to American society and the American economy. Iranians are overrepresented in medicine, engineering, and in academe. They serve in the U.S. military and across the U.S. government. While these Iranians are Americans first, grateful for the protection the United States gave them when they fled religious dictatorship, they care about the country from which their families came and have strong opinions about its politics. Some lionize Reza Pahlavi, the son of the late shah. Others come from families associated with the Tudeh, the left-of-center party that rallied around former Prime Minister Mohammad Mosaddegh. Still others are constitutionalists or republicans. Those Iranian Americans who join the U.S. government submit themselves to ordinary and even enhanced security clearances without difficulty.

Here, though, the Mujahedin-e Khalq is an outlier. The FBI, which handles most senior security clearances, does not clear Mujahedin-e Khalq members. The members of the cult refuse to face polygraphs and, when they do, reflect deceptiveness.
MKO behavior is strange in other ways. The MKO may talk a good game in its Paris rallies, but how many MKO members who are U.S. citizens or green card holders actually serve in the U.S. military? If the MKO is as pro-American as they say and has nothing to hide, why such a strange omission? Indeed, of all immigrant and political groups who come to America, the MKO may be alone in eschewing such service.

Other elements of the Mujahedin-e Khalq reality should also raise red flags among those considering accepting its cash. Safavi can vehemently deny that the MKO is a cult, but he distracts from the simple fact that few if any children of MKO members—they seldom marry outside their political movement—attend public schools or broader multicultural schools. Cults thrive by isolating members. The isolation that MKO children endure is extreme.

By this metric, there appears to be little difference between the Mujahedin-e Khalq’s American wing and Branch Davidians, Unification Church, or People’s Temple. Each may have had the right to their beliefs and politics so long as they did not contravene U.S. law, but in each case, the rhetoric of public-facing leaders reflected less the groups’ reality than did the internal isolation their children suffered. American officials should be very, very cautious when signing onto the MKO’s talking points or accepting their claims. Sometimes an honorarium is not worth the embarrassment sure to follow.

Middle East Forum, Michael Rubin

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Zhina (Zeinab) Hosseinnejad, a former child soldier of the MEK who spent her childhood and youth in the organization, although she is now a staunch opponent of the Islamic Republic, tries to inform Iranian public opinion about the nature of this destructive cult by occasionally publishing accounts of her time as a member of the cult. She is one of the former child soldiers of the MEK who testified against the MEK in the Hamburg court in Amin Gol Maryami’s case. She was also interviewed by some journalists and filmmakers in Europe.

In a recent post on her Facebook account, Zhina wrote about the concept of “constructive criticism” in the MEK. Reading this section of Zhina Hosseinnejad’s memoirs make it clear that criticism, even constructive criticism, is forbidden in the MEK’s ruling structure. Criticism leads to torture and harm to the critic, and this is proven repeatedly and in various situations in Zhina’s post.

Zhina’s account of constructive criticism within the MEK can be considered credible evidence to make any political force that thinks it can interact with the MEK reconsider. This is a part of her post on constructive criticism:
Whenever I hear the word “constructive criticism” about reactionary opposition groups, I recall the events in Albania, the days when I still believed in the change of the Mujahedin.

When we arrived in Albania, the atmosphere of suffocation had become a little less than in Iraq, so I was able to write explicit internal criticism reports regarding censorship, repression, psychological torture, and forced confessions in women’s meetings, and I demanded that the officials of the organization be held accountable to the public.

One of the so-called bright and “good police” officials told me; “Our apparatus still does not have the capacity to respond to criticism, since we are not the government, our system will collapse and weaken.”

But I still do not understand why at the time of repression, torture, corruption, and violation of people’s rights, they were the government, but when it came to accountability, they were not the government… Let’s move on.

After months of psychological pressure sessions, which finally led me to leave the organization, one day I told an MEK agent who was visiting my controlled apartment in Tirana; “I want to open a Facebook page and write the reason for my departure from the organization and post my criticisms publicly and constructively.”

As if the official was struck by electricity, she said; “No, no, don’t do it! Let me ask the higher officials.”
In short, from that day on, every night and every morning, sometimes even late, they came to me, saying things, threatening and tempting, that I was shocked, but all they did was to prevent me from opening a political page.

And the more I asked; what’s wrong with “constructive criticism”? The more they said; “Absolutely! Don’t write even a single comment! Go and live your life.”
“life” that from years until that moment before leaving Ashraf was a taboo. Life was shame, it was disgrace, it was betrayal and it made you deserve trial! All of a sudden it became good, it became important, it became necessary, it became gold!
And you know very well what criticism will turn into when they don’t let you make “constructive criticism” in time… and it did.

When the issue of some of us was brought to the European media and the German courts, some MEK accounts came to my direct message and wrote: “Don’t step on the blood of your mother and uncles! If you have criticism, make it constructive criticism! Why did you bring the issue to the media and the court?!”

I said; Oh No! what happened? Constructive criticism became good? You came a little late! Sweet Heart!
In short, we, the new generation of MEK, were not given the space and the right to even the slightest “constructive criticism” until the issue was brought to the media and the court.

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