Moderator’s Note: Below is a letter from Mahmoud Khalil in its entirety, dictated over the phone from Immigrations and Customs (ICE) detention in Louisiana. A permanent resident taken by the government for his political speech. The phrase “who has the right to have rights?” was coined by Hannah Arendt who escaped Nazi Germany and wrote poignantly and pointedly about the rise of fascism. While on the surface, this letter doesn’t have an obvious link to FAR’s mission, we feel it is deeply intertwined. Who has the right the have rights? Women once had no rights and it appears we are losing them again at breakneck speed. Immigrant’s rights in this country are being stripped also at breakneck speed. And that is just the tip of the iceberg. If we can’t answer “EVERYONE” to Arendt and Khalil’s question, then human rights mean nothing for any of us.
My name is Mahmoud Khalil and I am a political prisoner. I am writing to you from a detention facility in Louisiana where I wake to cold mornings and spend long days bearing witness to the quiet injustices underway against a great many people precluded from the protections of the law.
Who has the right to have rights? It is certainly not the humans crowded into the cells here. It isn’t the Senegalese man I met who has been deprived of his liberty for a year, his legal situation in limbo and his family an ocean away. It isn’t the 21-year-old detainee I met, who stepped foot in this country at age nine, only to be deported without so much as a hearing.
Justice escapes the contours of this nation’s immigration facilities.
On March 8, I was taken by DHS agents who refused to provide a warrant, and accosted my wife and me as we returned from dinner. By now, the footage of that night has been made public. Before I knew what was happening, agents handcuffed and forced me into an unmarked car. At that moment, my only concern was for Noor’s safety. I had no idea if she would be taken too, since the agents had threatened to arrest her for not leaving my side. DHS would not tell me anything for hours — I did not know the cause of my arrest or if I was facing immediate deportation. At 26 Federal Plaza, I slept on the cold floor. In the early morning hours, agents transported me to another facility in Elizabeth, New Jersey. There, I slept on the ground and was refused a blanket despite my request.
Continue reading “Letter from a Palestinian Political Prisoner in Louisiana Dictated over the phone from ICE Detention March 18, 2025”
Sitting in front of the computer, I slowly and intentionally insert earbuds, click to start my favorite writing playlist, and open up Microsoft Word. I feel the tips of my fingers resting lightly on the keys, and notice the slight give of each printed square, glossy in the middle from months of 80 words per minute. I lightly tap my fingers on the keys, not pressing enough to type a letter, body motionless except my fingers, watching the absolute stillness of the screen, exploring the edge between pressure and performance with slow, shallow breaths, finally noticing the moment when the edge is breached, the key catches, and a letter appears on my screen, taking it in with satisfaction.
Feminism and Religion 