In the quiet Louisiana town of Jena, the steel gates of a detention center swung open Friday evening, and Mahmoud Khalil walked out — keffiyeh wrapped, fist raised, defiant. After 104 days behind bars, the Columbia University graduate and prominent pro-Palestinian activist emerged free, after a federal judge slammed the government’s attempt to silence political speech through immigration laws.
“This was never about paperwork,” Khalil said, his voice raw with relief and resistance. “This was about punishment — for daring to speak.”
Khalil, a Syrian-born U.S. permanent resident, had been arrested on March 8 in the lobby of his student residence in Manhattan. The official charge: alleged immigration fraud. The unspoken charge: daring to protest U.S. support for Israel’s war in Gaza. Former President Donald Trump had vowed to deport foreign students involved in such protests, labeling them antisemitic. Khalil was the first test subject in that agenda.
Rights groups, civil liberties organizations, and Jewish peace activists rallied around his case, calling it a dangerous fusion of immigration enforcement and political suppression. The ruling came down hard on that premise.
U.S. District Judge Michael Farbiarz, sitting in Newark, found no credible evidence that Khalil posed a flight risk or a danger. More critically, he hinted at what many had suspected: Khalil’s arrest wasn’t about law, but about message control. “There is at least something to the underlying claim that there is an effort to use the immigration charge here to punish the petitioner,” the judge said from the bench.
He called the government’s actions “unconstitutional,” especially given that civil immigration matters are not criminal offenses.
Khalil’s wife, Dr. Noor Abdalla, greeted the decision with tempered joy. Their son was born while Khalil was locked away. “This ruling doesn’t undo what we’ve lost,” she said. “But it brings Mahmoud home — to his family and to the people who stood by us.”
The release has not ended Khalil’s immigration saga. The proceedings continue, and the White House has already denounced the ruling, calling it “unauthorized,” vowing to challenge it on appeal. But for now, Khalil is back with his family, awaiting his next legal battle not from a cell, but from the streets.
Standing outside the detention center, Khalil did not mince words. “No one is illegal. No human being is illegal,” he said, turning his attention to the hundreds still held inside. “They’re dehumanizing everyone here. This isn’t justice. This is vengeance wrapped in bureaucracy.”
He described his time in detention as a transformation. “It rips away the illusions,” he said. “This country talks about liberty and justice, but what you see inside — it’s something else entirely.”
Khalil’s attorneys had long argued that the government was using an obscure Cold War-era law that allows for deportation of individuals deemed “adverse to foreign policy interests.” Judge Farbiarz previously ruled that detaining Khalil under that statute violated his First Amendment rights.
Though a Louisiana immigration judge had denied Khalil’s asylum plea just hours before the release order, that decision has now been overtaken — at least for now — by Farbiarz’s constitutional ruling. The deportation battle continues, but Khalil cannot be removed from the country while that legal challenge is still in motion.
Khalil, now 30, had gained U.S. permanent residency last year. His wife and newborn son are U.S. citizens. The allegation that he withheld information in his residency application remains the government’s fallback — a rare charge that his lawyers call a smokescreen.
“This isn’t law enforcement. This is political enforcement,” one of his lawyers said bluntly outside the courthouse.
The courtroom fight is far from over. But Friday’s ruling and Khalil’s release have already sent a message — one echoing far beyond the fences of Jena.
In the words of Khalil: “They tried to silence us. Instead, they’ve only made our voices louder.”
