Systemic deportation regime targets activist Mahmoud Khalil: Appeals denied amid militarised immigration enforcement

Deportation regimes are rooted in the same logic as settler-colonial land dispossession, where the state asserts absolute authority over mobility to enforce racial and economic hierarchies. Indigenous legal traditions, such as the Haudenosaunee Great Law of Peace, recognise the right to free movement as inherent to sovereignty, contrasting sharply with the carceral logics of modern immigration enforcement. The erasure of these perspectives in Khalil’s case reflects a broader pattern where Indigenous and migrant struggles are pitted against each other to weaken collective resistance.

The denial of Khalil’s appeal echoes the 1954 'Operation Wetback,' which deported over a million Mexican and Mexican-American people, as well as the post-9/11 expansion of 'crimmigration' that fused criminal and immigration law. The Board of Immigration Appeals, established in 1940, has long functioned as a rubber stamp for deportation orders, with approval rates often exceeding 90% in recent years. Khalil’s case also parallels the 1980s repression of Central American activists, where the U.S. collaborated with death squads to deport asylum seekers fleeing U.S.-backed violence.

In Europe, the concept of *sans-papiers* (undocumented migrants) in France and Belgium frames irregular status as a political act of resistance against state violence, rather than a legal failing. African philosophical traditions like Ubuntu ('I am because we are') challenge the individualism of deportation policies by emphasising communal responsibility and belonging. In South Asia, the *NRC-CAA* crisis in India demonstrates how citizenship laws are weaponised to disenfranchise Muslim minorities, mirroring the racialised targeting in U.S. immigration enforcement.

Research from the American Psychological Association shows that indefinite detention causes severe mental health decline, with PTSD rates among detainees comparable to torture survivors. A 2022 study in *Science Advances* found that immigration enforcement reduces economic output by disrupting labor networks and suppressing entrepreneurship in immigrant communities. The 'chilling effect' of deportation threats on public health, documented by Harvard researchers, demonstrates how fear of detention deters undocumented individuals from accessing healthcare, exacerbating disparities.

Artists like Dread Scott and Tania Bruguera have used deportation as a lens to critique state violence, framing resistance as an act of spiritual defiance against dehumanising systems. The *DREAMers* movement’s use of testimonial art and poetry subverts the narrative of 'illegality' by centering human dignity. In Sufi traditions, the concept of *hurriya* (freedom) is tied to the right to movement, offering a spiritual counterpoint to the carceral state’s logic of enclosure.

If current trends continue, the U.S. could see a 30% increase in deportations by 2030, driven by expanded ICE budgets and AI-driven surveillance of immigrant communities. Scenario modelling by the Urban Institute suggests that decarcerating immigration detention could save $12 billion annually while improving public safety outcomes. Alternative futures, such as the 'sanctuary cities' model, demonstrate that non-cooperation with ICE reduces deportations without increasing crime, challenging the 'law and order' narrative.

Khalil’s case must be situated within the broader repression of Arab and Muslim activists, from the FBI’s post-9/11 surveillance of Muslim communities to the targeting of Palestinian solidarity organisers. The voices of deportees themselves—such as those in the 'Not One More Deportation' campaign—are systematically excluded from mainstream narratives, despite their firsthand accounts of state violence. Women of colour organisers, like those in the *UndocuBlack Network*, have long highlighted how deportation policies intersect with gendered violence and economic exploitation.