On April 11, a Louisiana immigration judge ruled that Mahmoud Khalil, a former Columbia graduate student and a legal permanent resident of the United States, could be deported. It’s not to commit a crime. It’s not to violate immigration rules. But for his political speeches – especially to help organize a peaceful Gaza solidarity camp at his university.
The government’s case against Khalil falls under section 237(a)(4)(c)(i) of the Immigration and Nationality Act. The evidence the government has presented against him is a two-page memo from Secretary of State Marco Rubio, claiming that Khalil’s “beliefs and associations” could “have a negative impact on the interests of US foreign policy.” Ironically, the document itself acknowledged that Halil’s actions were “otherwise legal.”
Still, that was enough. The mere invocation of “foreign policy” or “national security” now works like a legal spell, with First Amendment protection, legitimate processes, and even common sense.
The Halil case is not an outlier. This uses a variety of legal tools, particularly by sympathetic challenges to the broader strategies to challenge the United States, and by sympathetic and critical challenges of Israeli policy or Palestinian rights. This use and abuse of the US legal system sets a dangerous precedent that will harm American democracy in the long run.
Dozens of international students and academics (many of Muslim countries and racialized communities) are also often exposed to surveillance, detention and deportation without allegations of criminal misconduct.
Among them is Badal Khan Suri, a visiting scholar at Georgetown University and an Indian citizen who was arrested by Immigration and Customs Enforcement Agency (ICE) at his Virginia home and later moved to Texas. He is in custody and faces removal based on his family ties. His American wife’s father once worked as an advisor to the Gaza government.
Another example is Rumeysa Ozturk, a Turkish Fulbright scholar and doctoral student at Tufts University. He was detained after co-writing newspaper opinions related to the boycott, sale and sanctions (BDS) movement. A US immigration judge subsequently refused her release, labeling her “flight risk and community risk.”
Another recent case is Mohsen Mahdawi, a Palestinian green card holder and Colombian student protest leader. He is currently facing deportation to the occupied West Bank and said he would be “a death sentence” given the loss of family and friends to Israel’s military violence.
Momodutal, a British Gambia doctoral candidate at Cornell University, filed a lawsuit against President Donald Trump’s administration, claiming that the executive order targeting Palestinian activists violated his first and fifth rights of amendment. Despite being sued preemptively and legally represented, Tar’s efforts were ultimately undermined by jurisdiction maneuvering and enforcement pressures. His emergency injunction was rejected by a federal judge on March 27, and a few days later he reported himself, saying he no longer trusts the court to protect him even in a favorable ruling.
There is also Yoon Zeo Chung, a Korean-born Colombian student and permanent resident of the United States. This narrowly avoided deportation thanks to a preemptive federal court injunction. Alireza Doroudi, an Iranian doctoral student at the University of Alabama, was quietly taken into custody without explanation. Ranjani Srinivasan, an Indian student in Colombia, fled to Canada after an ice agent visited her apartment. The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) later released footage of her departure, naming her “terrorist sympathizer.”
In this campaign of political persecution, the Trump administration relies primarily on immigration courts, not part of an independent federal judiciary under Section III of the US Constitution.
They are administrative courts housed in the administrative department, particularly the Department of Justice. Their judges are appointed by the Attorney General, have no tenure and are subject to political surveillance. Procedural protections available in Article III courts (such as full evidence hearing, fair examination, constitutional due process, etc.) have been effectively undermined in immigration courts.
Federal courts may scrutinise whether arrest or deportation violates constitutional protections – such as the First Amendment or Equal Protection, immigration judges are often empowered to control based on vague claims of “foreign policy concerns” or “national security interests” when there are few specific requirements for evidence. This double-track legal system allows the government to bypass the constitution while maintaining the emergence of legality.
There have been many calls from legal scholars, human rights groups, and even former immigration judges to reform the system. The proposal includes moving the immigration court into an Article I court structure independent of the Department of Justice to ensure judicial immigration.
However, these reforms have consistently failed. This is largely due to congressional inaction and political resistance from consecutive administrations that benefited from the adaptability of the system. The administrative department has long viewed immigration courts as a tool for policy enforcement rather than a neutral ruling.
The crackdown has so far focused on non-citizens with legal status, but could soon extend to naturalized Americans. US law allows for the revocation of citizenship in the case of fraud, membership in terrorist organizations, and other crimes. In his first term, Trump created a dedicated “moderation section” within the Department of Justice to pursue a withdrawal of citizenship. Approximately 700,000 immigrant files have been investigated with the aim of bringing 1,600 cases to court.
Trump now shows he intends to pick up his degenerative drive from where he left off. If he deployed this legal tool against critical voices, this means that even citizenship could no longer provide protection if the government loses its favor.
The Department of Justice, DHS and ICE have been helping out in campaigning against dissent, and are receiving public support from nonprofits. Groups like Betar and Canary Mission have gained general credibility for identifying international students who are involved in Palestinian activities and encourage deportation.
Better claims they have put together a list of foreigners labeled as “jihad” and submitted it to the Trump administration. Meanwhile, the Canary Mission launched a project called “Revealing Foreigners.” The project will effectively create a blacklist by publishing names and photos of international students who denounce anti-Semitism or anti-Israel activities.
Although there is no official confirmation that DHS or ICE is acting directly on these materials, the close timing between these campaigns and government enforcement raised serious concerns that these politically motivated private groups are shaping federal immigration enforcement without transparency or accountability.
The United States portrays itself as a sign of freedom, a nation ruled by the rule of law, where freedom of speech is sacred. But the case of Halil, and others like that, paint a completely different picture. Speech is no longer a right if your place of residence, citizenship, education, and even physical freedom can be revoked to peacefully express your political views. It is a conditional privilege.
This is more than a legal overdue. It is a moral crisis for American democracy. When freedom of speech is conditioned on political loyalty and private blacklists shape federal enforcement, the fundamental values of freedom, pluralism and equality are dismantled before the law is dismantled.
What American democracy urgently needs are Congressional actions to establish judicial independence in immigration courts, First Amendment protection for non-citizens, and complete transparency regarding government reliance on civil ideological actors. The less risky enforcing the two-tier rights system is ultimately a country that can be deported by its own objection.
This is not just a test of immigration policy. It is the test of democracy and the soul of the nation itself.
The views expressed in this article are the authors themselves and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.