Mahmoud Khalil to Al-Araby Al-Jadeed: Trump Administration singled me out to deter others from supporting Palestinian rights

On 20 June, U.S. authorities released Palestinian activist and permanent US resident Mahmoud Khalil after 104 days of detention after a judge ordered his release on bail. His arbitrary arrest and detention had triggered waves of protest across the United States.

Human rights groups argued the arrest was politically motivated, designed to intimidate the growing student movement opposing the genocide in Palestine—a genocide backed by President Donald Trump’s administration.

Khalil had played a key role mediating between protesting students and Columbia University's administration in New York. No criminal charges were filed against him, and the aim of his detention appeared to be his immediate deportation—despite holding permanent residency (a Green Card) and being married to a U.S. citizen.

Khalil holds a Master’s in Public and International Affairs from Columbia. He was arrested in student housing while returning with his then eight-month pregnant wife.

The student protests across U.S. universities have demanded an end to the genocide against Palestinians and divestment from Israel and weapons companies. Though Khalil and his legal team won a temporary victory with his release, the threat of deportation remains. He has filed a lawsuit against the U.S. government seeking $20 million in damages.

Al-Araby Al-Jadeed, The New Arab's sister publication met with him in New York for this interview:

Let’s begin with your release after more than 100 days in detention. How did it feel, especially given that the case is not closed? How do you connect your personal experience to the broader Palestinian struggle, both in exile and under occupation?

Khalil: My arrest was terrifying, and Columbia University did not protect me.

On a personal level, those 104 days were psychologically devastating. I was separated from my wife Noor and my family at a time when she needed me most—she was about to give birth to our first child. I felt a deep sense of injustice. But as you noted, there was also a sense of helplessness in the face of the ongoing genocide in Gaza and across Palestine. That very reality, however, gave me strength to keep going, to not surrender or passively accept deportation. Instead, I chose to keep speaking out for Palestine. What happened to me was an attempt to distract from the real issue: the U.S. government’s and American universities’ unconditional support for Israel and its crimes against the Palestinian people.

But the support I received from students, from many in American society, and local and international organisations gave me hope despite my circumstances.

The struggle for Palestine has evolved from a temporary cause into a pivotal part of a global movement. What’s happening in the U.S. now proves that support for Palestinian liberation is growing and becoming part of the mainstream. That alone is a source of great hope. For younger generations in the U.S. and beyond, Palestine has become central to the global movement for justice.

You were released and not deported, but the case remains open. Can you update us on the latest developments?

Khalil: When I was abducted on 8 March by federal agents in plain clothes and unmarked cars, it reminded me of the security forces under the Assad regime—when the mukhabarat would take people away. (Khalil was born in Syria’s Khan al-Sheikh refugee camp, his grandparents displaced from Tiberias in the Nakba) My arrest was unlawful. I committed no crime. It was part of a wider campaign to silence Palestinian voices critical of U.S. and Israeli policies.

The arrest itself was horrifying. Within 30 hours, I was transferred from New York to New Jersey, then Texas, and finally Louisiana—2,000 kilometres from New York. This was a deliberate attempt to isolate me from my support network and subject me to a court system sympathetic to Trump, effectively placing my fate in his hands.

Those 30 hours were among the most brutal of the 104 days. U.S. immigration detention centres are notorious for their cruelty and disregard for human rights. Once inside, you don’t even know if you have any rights. We were over 70 people crammed into a dormitory with no privacy, terrible food—I lost a lot of weight. Many detainees were being held without legal justification, simply to meet Trump’s goal of deporting 3,000 people a day whether or not they committed crimes.

Are there any charges against you now?

Khalil: I am not charged with any crime. But the case is still open because the U.S. government considers me a threat to national security and foreign policy. I was released, meaning I am free pending further legal proceedings. The administration remains determined to target me by any means. First, they wanted to keep me detained; now, they want to keep me in a permanent state of fear—through threats of re-arrest and legal warfare. Even after my release, they appealed the decision. Their goal is a legal war—to make an example of me, to deter anyone else brave enough to speak out for Palestine and Palestinian rights.

How do you situate your arrest and the broader Palestinian freedom movement in the U.S., especially student-led activism, in relation to other justice movements like the civil rights movements for African Americans, Indigenous struggles, or the anti-apartheid movement in South Africa?

Khalil: The student movement for Palestinian rights in U.S. universities has become a driving force in shifting the discourse on Palestinian freedom. These students aren’t just Palestinians, Arabs, or Muslims—they represent every background and faith in American society. That’s what scares the establishment and the Zionist lobbies. The students are united against the injustice faced by Palestinians. True, this movement didn’t begin with the current war on Gaza, but it has since grown and spread significantly.

The new generation in the U.S. is acutely aware of how U.S. policies impact Palestinian lives. They’re increasingly determined to change things—on campus and beyond.

Historically, students have led social movements—during the Civil Rights era, against the Vietnam War, and in the struggle against apartheid in South Africa. Students were at the forefront. Now, they’re doing the same again, challenging U.S. policy and those who back it. In response, university administrations have aligned with Congress and the political establishment to crack down on student activism. What happened to me is just one example of the establishment’s confusion and overreach. Trump promised to push the Palestinian cause back twenty years. Targeting me was part of that—but it backfired. More Americans are now engaged, questioning U.S. policies, and raising awareness about Palestine.

How could a university like Columbia allow students to be arrested on campus? Did Columbia offer you any support, especially since you emailed them requesting protection from a defamation campaign before your arrest?

Khalil: I was arrested inside Columbia’s student housing. The university was complicit in what happened to me and other students. It failed to protect us when we were threatened for our political positions. It failed to defend academic freedom and caved to Trump’s administration—by changing Middle East curricula and handing over information on student activists. We faced defamation and vicious online attacks led by Zionist students and faculty. Despite our repeated appeals for protection, the university did nothing—in fact, it took punitive actions against Palestinian and other dissenting students. I and others were repeatedly threatened with expulsion over our political views.

Universities, especially in the U.S., are supposed to be havens of academic freedom and free expression. But in the U.S., there is what we call the “Palestinian exception”—universities, especially Columbia, have become part of the machinery of repression. Trump’s attacks on students made it easier; universities no longer had to act directly. Columbia gave in to pressure and adopted the narrative that the student protests were violent and antisemitic, even though the reality is entirely different. Many Jewish students were central to the movement. The university blurred the lines between antisemitism and opposition to Israeli policy, Zionism, and occupation—all to silence dissenting voices.

How can this growing movement and support in the U.S. be harnessed to further the Palestinian struggle for freedom?

Unfortunately, the Palestinian leadership and factions are currently absent from efforts to capitalise on this new global reality and the significant popular support for Palestine in the U.S. and Europe—places that used to unconditionally support Israel. But that is changing. Polls show that 56% of young Democrats now support Palestine, compared to around 35% seven years ago. This shift in public opinion is historic. The Palestinian leadership must seize this moment, build on it—not just in the U.S. and Europe, but across the Global South, Latin America, Africa, and Asia. Countries like Japan and South Korea—major U.S. allies—are now diverging from Washington on Palestine.

The Palestinian leadership and factions must rise to the occasion, rethink their strategy, and find ways to integrate this support into the national project—working to isolate Israel and press for an end to the occupation and full rights for the Palestinian people.