“Who has the right to have rights?”: The deportation of Mahmoud Khalil and the shrinking space of right to free speech

“Who has the right to have rights?” is a very pertinent question asked by Hannah Arendt, decades ago, and now reiterated by Mahmoud Khalil from inside the walls of a detention center, a Syrian-born Palestinian student, who fled his inherited statelessness and forced displacement, yet only to find the weight of another regime’s suspicion falling squarely on his voice. His conviction is in his words. 

Khalil is a Pro-Palestine student activist who is facing deportation from the United States, not because of any adverse or criminal act, but because the federal government has deemed his “beliefs, statements and associations” as sufficient grounds for his removal, with no regards to the fundamental tenets of constitutional protection under the first and the fifth amendment of the U.S. constitution. His advocacy for Palestinian rights, which was entirely non-violent and constitutionally protected, has been framed by immigration authorities as a national security issue. He was forcefully detained by DHS agents who refused to provide a warrant. The government justified its contention against Khalil’s presence in the United States by relying on a cold-war era statute that allows expulsion of a non-citizen if their presence is considered to have  potentially serious foreign policy consequences.” This was enough to satisfy requirements for his deportation, Immigration Judge Jamee E. Comans said after a hearing. Comans said the government had “established by clear and convincing evidence that he is removable.”

CRIMINALIZING BELIEF 

The first Amendment of the U.S. Constitution is clear: “ The Congress shall make no law… abridging the freedom of speech.” It is aimed at protecting even the most unpopular, controversial, politically inconvenient views, including those critical of any governmental action. Yet in Khalil’s case, a mere advocacy for Palestinian rights, absent any incitement to violence, has been treated as a security threat. The  US Supreme Court in Brandenburg v. Ohio (1969) clarified that speech can only be restricted if it is “directed to inciting or producing imminent lawless action and is likely to incite or produce such action.”

U.S. immigration law under the Immigration and Nationality Act (INA) contains broad discretionary powers, especially under sections related to terrorism or national security. For instance, Section 212 (a)(3)(B) allows for deportation based on providing “material support” to terrorist organizations. The Trump administration has cited a 1952 law that empowers the government to order someone deported if their presence in the country could pose unfavourable consequences for American foreign policy. This clause, in multiple cases, has been criticized for sweeping in non-violent activism. There are no such formal charges or convictions against Khalil, and this raises serious due process concerns under the Fifth Amendment, which guarantees fair procedures before depriving someone of their liberty. 

THE QUESTION OF PERSONHOOD 

As mentioned before, Khalil’s story does not begin in the United States. It began in Syria, where he was born stateless since his family was exiled from Palestine after the 1948 Nakba. Although he officially holds the citizenship of Algeria, he was not granted citizenship at birth, and something he had to earn, and even now it does not protect him from the surveillance and suspicion imposed by another state. Stateless people like Khalil exist in a legal limbo; they’re denied their nationality but also often the full recognition of their personhood. His detention highlights how people who are stripped of their political identity are the most vulnerable to having their legal rights stripped away. 

INTERNATIONAL LEGAL STANDARDS AND HUMAN RIGHTS CONCERN 

Under International human rights law, particularly the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), to which the USA is also a party, the freedom of expression (Article 19), the freedom of association (Article 22), and protection against arbitrary detention ( Article 9) are guaranteed rights. Deporting someone for nonviolent political advocacy is a direct violation of the rights under the convention commitments. Article 33 of the 1951 Refugee Convention prohibits refoulement, which refers to the return of an individual to a country where they may face prosecution. Although Khalil’s case does not specifically warrant his return to a specific danger zone, it opens the legal rationale to using speech as a basis for exclusion. It sets a bad precedent of undermining the protection for political refugees globally. 

If mere belief can be punished without proof of a crime, speech risks losing its protective shield. Taking a different stance on an international issue should not be a national security threat. Common people are not agents of the government’s foreign policy, and are not bound to parrot its stance in a democratic governance. Activists worldwide, especially those advocating for Palestine, are increasingly surveilled, silenced, and penalized for raising their voice under the garb of national security. If the First Amendment does not apply to those whose speech offends, then it applies to no one at all. 

Khalil’s case highlights the strategic misuse of immigration laws to silence dissent. By categorizing mere political beliefs and advocacy as a national security threat, the state is essentially reinforcing ideological conformity through immigration enforcement. Multiple Indian asylum seekers, particularly from minority communities, have faced expedited deportations under procedural ambiguities. The USA often regards itself as the beacon of human rights, and now must reckon with the question of whether a democracy that punishes belief and advocacy can claim to be free? 

CONCLUSION 

This case asks critical questions about whether belief is punishable, whether stateless people can be full rights-bearers, and whether free expression still has a home in liberal democracies. It exposes the architecture of exclusion hidden in the folds of immigration law. If the U.S. chooses to deport a young man not for what he did, but for what he believes, it betrays the very freedoms it claims to uphold. And it sends a chilling message to every immigrant, every person whose politics dares to speak a different truth: that you have no right to have rights.