Latest news with #Deen
The Guardian
23-05-2025
- Politics
- The Guardian
Mahmoud Khalil finally allowed to hold one-month-old son for the first time
Mahmoud Khalil, the Columbia University graduate and detained Palestinian activist, was finally allowed to hold his infant son for the first time Thursday – one month after he was born – thanks to a federal judge who blocked the Trump administration's efforts to keep the father and infant separated by a Plexiglass barrier. The visit came before a scheduled immigration hearing for Khalil, a legal permanent resident who has been detained in a Louisiana jail since 8 March. The question of whether Khalil would be permitted to hold his newborn child, Deen, or forced to meet him through a barrier had sparked days of legal fighting, triggering claims by Khalil's attorneys that he is being subject to political retaliation by the government. On Wednesday night, a federal judge in New Jersey, Michael Farbiarz, intervened, allowing the meeting to go forward Thursday morning, according to Khalil's attorneys. The judge's order came after federal officials said this week they would oppose his attorney's effort to secure what's known as a 'contact visit' among Khalil; his wife, Noor Abdalla; and their son. Instead, they said Khalil could be allowed a 'non-contact' visit, meaning he would be separated from his wife and son by a plastic divider and not allowed to touch them. 'Granting Khalil this relief of family visitation would effectively grant him a privilege that no other detainee receives,' justice department officials wrote in a court filing on Wednesday. 'Allowing Dr Abdalla and a newborn to attend a legal meeting would turn a legal visitation into a family one.' Brian Acuna, acting director of the Ice field office in New Orleans, said in an accompanying affidavit that it would be 'unsafe to allow Mr Khalil's wife and newborn child into a secured part of the facility'. In their own legal filings, Khalil's attorneys described the government's refusal to grant the visit as 'further evidence of the retaliatory motive behind Mr Khalil's arrest and faraway detention', adding that his wife and son were 'the farthest thing from a security risk'. They noted that Abdalla had traveled nearly 1,500 miles (2,400km) to the remote detention center in hopes of introducing their son to his father. 'This is not just heartless,' Abdalla said of the government's position. 'It is deliberate violence, the calculated cruelty of a government that tears families apart without remorse. And I cannot ignore the echoes of this pain in the stories of Palestinian families, torn apart by Israeli military prisons and bombs, denied dignity, denied life.' Khalil was the first person to be arrested under Donald Trump's promised crackdown on protesters against the war in Gaza and is one of the few who have remained in custody as his case winds its way through both immigration and federal court. Federal authorities have not accused Khalil of a crime, but they have sought to deport him on the basis that his prominent role in protests against Israel's war in Gaza may have undermined US foreign policy interests. His request to attend his son's 21 April birth was denied last month by US Immigration and Customs Enforcement. In a letter to his son published in the Guardian, Khalil wrote after the birth: 'My heart aches that I could not hold you in my arms and hear your first cry, that I could not unfurl your clenched fists or change your first diaper. 'My absence is not unique,' Khalil added. 'Like other Palestinian fathers, I was separated from you by racist regimes and distant prisons. In Palestine, this pain is part of daily life … The grief your mother and I feel is but one drop in a sea of sorrow that Palestinian families have drowned in for generations.' Farbiarz is currently considering Khalil's petition for release as he appeals a Louisiana immigration judge's ruling that he can be deported from the country. On Thursday, Khalil appeared before that immigration judge, Jamee Comans, as his attorneys presented testimony about the risks he would face if he were to be deported to Syria, where he grew up in a refugee camp, or Algeria, where he maintains citizenship through a distant relative. His attorneys submitted testimony from Columbia University faculty and students attesting to Khalil's character. In one declaration, Joseph Howley, a classics professor, said he had first introduced Khalil to a university administrator to serve as a spokesperson on behalf of campus protesters, describing him as an 'upstanding, principled and well-respected member of our community. 'I have never known Mahmoud to espouse any anti-Jewish sentiments or prejudices, and have heard him forcefully reject antisemitism on multiple occasions,' Howley wrote. No ruling regarding the appeal was made on Thursday. Comans gave lawyers in the case until 5pm 2 June to submit written closing arguments. Columbia's interim president, Claire Shipman, acknowledged Mahmoud's absence from Wednesday's commencement ceremony and said many students were 'mourning' that he couldn't be present. Her speech drew loud boos from some graduates, along with chants of 'free Mahmoud'. Abdalla accepted a diploma for Khalil on his behalf at an alternative graduation ceremony on Sunday. In the 75 days since his arrest, at least three other international college students have been released from detention after weeks of legal action by their attorneys. They include Rümeysa Öztürk, Mohsen Mahdawi and Badar Khan Suri. All three have been targeted for deportation by the Trump administration, and have challenged the legality of their detentions with a string of motions and legal briefs in federal district courts. The judges in all of their cases agreed to release them while their immigration court cases played out.
The Independent
22-05-2025
- Politics
- The Independent
Mahmoud Khalil permitted to hold newborn son for the first time despite objections from government
Detained Palestinian activist Mahmoud Khalil was allowed to hold his one-month-old son for the first time Thursday after a federal judge blocked the Trump administration's efforts to keep the father and infant separated by a plexiglass barrier. The visit came ahead of a scheduled immigration hearing for Khalil, a legal permanent resident and Columbia University graduate who has been detained in a Louisiana jail since March 8. He was first person to be arrested under President Donald Trump's promised crackdown on protesters against the war in Gaza and is one of the few who has remained in custody as his case winds its way through both immigration and federal court. His request to attend his son's April 21 birth was denied last month by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. The question of whether Khalil would be permitted to hold his newborn child or forced to meet him through a barrier had sparked days of legal fighting, triggering claims by Khalil's attorneys that he is being subject to political retaliation by the government. On Wednesday night, a federal judge in New Jersey, Michael Farbiarz, intervened, allowing the meeting to go forward Thursday morning, according to Khalil's attorneys. The judge's order came after federal officials said this week they would oppose his attorney's effort to secure what's known as 'contact visit' between Khalil, his wife Noor Abdalla and their son Deen. Instead, they said Khalil could be allowed a 'non-contact' visit, meaning he would be separated from his wife and son by a plastic divider and not allowed to touch them. 'Granting Khalil this relief of family visitation would effectively grant him a privilege that no other detainee receives,' Justice Department officials wrote in a court filing on Wednesday. 'Allowing Dr. Abdalla and a newborn to attend a legal meeting would turn a legal visitation into a family one.' Brian Acuna, acting director of the ICE field office in New Orleans, said in an accompanying affidavit that it would be 'unsafe to allow Mr. Khalil's wife and newborn child into a secured part of the facility.' In their own legal filings, Khalil's attorneys described the government's refusal to grant the visit as 'further evidence of the retaliatory motive behind Mr. Khalil's arrest and faraway detention,' adding that his wife and son were 'the farthest thing from a security risk.' They noted that Abdalla had traveled nearly 1,500 miles (2,400 kilometers) to the remote detention center in hopes of introducing their son to his father. 'This is not just heartless,' Abdalla said of the government's position. 'It is deliberate violence, the calculated cruelty of a government that tears families apart without remorse. And I cannot ignore the echoes of this pain in the stories of Palestinian families, torn apart by Israeli military prisons and bombs, denied dignity, denied life.' Farbiarz is currently considering Khalil's petition for release as he appeals a Louisiana immigration judge's ruling that he can be deported from the country. Federal authorities have not accused Khalil of a crime, but have sought to deport him on the basis that his prominent role in protests against Israel's war in Gaza may have undermined U.S. foreign policy interests. Khalil is scheduled to appear before that immigration judge, Jamee Comans, for a routine hearing on Thursday. Attorneys for Khalil said it was unclear whether the baby would be permitted to attend the hearing.
Business Mayor
11-05-2025
- Politics
- Business Mayor
To my newborn son: I am absent not out of apathy, but conviction
Yaba Deen,* it has been two weeks since you were born, and these are my first words to you. In the early hours of 21 April, I waited on the other end of a phone as your mother labored to bring you into this world. I listened to her pained breaths and tried to speak comforting words into her ear over the crackling line. During your first moments, I buried my face in my arms and kept my voice low so that the 70 other men sleeping in this concrete room would not see my cloudy eyes or hear my voice catch. I feel suffocated by my rage and the cruelty of a system that deprived your mother and me of sharing this experience. Why do faceless politicians have the power to strip human beings of their divine moments? Since that morning, I have come to recognize the look in the eyes of every father in this detention center. I sit here contemplating the immensity of your birth and wonder how many more firsts will be sacrificed to the whims of the US government, which denied me even the chance of furlough to attend your birth. How is it that the same politicians who preach 'family values' are the ones tearing families apart? Deen, my heart aches that I could not hold you in my arms and hear your first cry, that I could not unfurl your clenched fists or change your first diaper. I am sorry that I was not there to hold your mother's hand or to recite the adhan, or call to prayer, in your ear. But my absence is not unique. Like other Palestinian fathers, I was separated from you by racist regimes and distant prisons. In Palestine, this pain is part of daily life. Babies are born every day without their fathers – not because their fathers chose to leave, but because they are taken by war, by bombs, by prison cells and by the cold machinery of occupation. The grief your mother and I feel is but one drop in a sea of sorrow that Palestinian families have drowned in for generations. Noor Abdalla, wife of Mahmoud Khalil, holds a photograph of their wedding day. Photograph: Caitlin Ochs/Reuters Deen, it was not a gap in the law that made me a political prisoner in Louisiana. It was my firm belief that our people deserve to be free, that their lives are worth more than the televised massacre we are witnessing in Gaza, and that the displacement that began in 1948 and culminated in the current genocide must finally end. This mere belief is what made the state scramble to detain me. No matter where I am when you read this – whether I'm in this country or another – I want to impress upon you one lesson: The struggle for Palestinian liberation is not a burden; it is a duty and an honor we carry with pride. So at every turning point in my life, you will find me choosing Palestine. Palestine over ease. Palestine over comfort. Palestine over self. This struggle is sweeter than a life without dignity. The tyrants want us to submit, to obey, to be perfect victims. But we are free, and we will remain free. I hope you feel this as deeply as I do. Deen, as a Palestinian refugee, I inherited a kind of exile that followed me to every border, every airport, every form. Borders mean something to me that they may not mean to you. Each crossing required me to prove my docility, my identity and my very right to exist. You were born an American citizen. You may never feel that weight. You may never have to translate your humanity through paperwork, countless visa applications and interview appointments. I hope you use this not to separate yourself from others, but to uplift those who live under the same circumstances that once constrained me. But I won't pretend this citizenship protects you. Not completely. Not when you have my name. Not when those in power still see our people as threats. Deen, my heart aches that I could not hold you in my arms and hear your first cry Mahmoud Khalil One day, you might ask why people are punished for standing up for Palestine, why truth and compassion feel dangerous to power. These are hard questions, but I hope our story shows you this: the world needs more courage, not less. It needs people who choose justice over convenience. It is nothing but the dehumanization and racist disregard for Palestinians that renders their lives forgettable and that dares describe Palestinian fathers who love their sons as 'terrorists'. Perhaps that is why the world so quickly forgot the killing of four-month-old Iman Hijjo in Gaza in 2001. Why did Ahmed Abu Artema's beloved son Abdullah die hungry for bread? Who recalls the children lost in the Flour Massacre? Where is the justice for the fathers in the West Bank who carefully dress their sons for prison? Why does liberty not visit the bodies of Palestinian children whose limbs are missing, whose ribs are exposed under thin skin and who are born lovingly only to die under an Israeli bomb? On this first Mother's Day for Noor, I dream of a world where all families are reunited to celebrate the incredible women in their lives. Many years ago, on one of our very first dates, I had asked your mother what she would change in the world if she could. Her simple response was: 'I just want people to be nicer to each other.' Deen, you were born to a mother as gentle as she is fierce. I pray that you live in a world shaped by that kindness. I hope, with all my heart, that you will not witness the oppression that I've known. I hope that you never need to chant for Palestine, because it has long been free with dignity and prosperity for all. Should that day come, know that it was ushered in through the courage of those who came before you. I am certain that in this new world, you and I will visit Tiberias together, drink from the river and marvel at the sea. There, in a free and just Palestine, you will see the fruits of our struggle. Deen, my love for you is deeper than anything I have ever known. Loving you is not separate from the struggle for liberation. It is liberation itself. I fight for you, and for every Palestinian child whose life deserves safety, tenderness and freedom. I hope one day you will stand tall knowing your father was not absent out of apathy, but out of conviction. And I will spend my life making up for the moments we lost – starting with this one, writing to you with all the love in my heart.
The Guardian
11-05-2025
- Politics
- The Guardian
To my newborn son: I am absent not out of apathy, but conviction
Yaba Deen,* it has been two weeks since you were born, and these are my first words to you. In the early hours of 21 April, I waited on the other end of a phone as your mother labored to bring you into this world. I listened to her pained breaths and tried to speak comforting words into her ear over the crackling line. During your first moments, I buried my face in my arms and kept my voice low so that the 70 other men sleeping in this concrete room would not see my cloudy eyes or hear my voice catch. I feel suffocated by my rage and the cruelty of a system that deprived your mother and me of sharing this experience. Why do faceless politicians have the power to strip human beings of their divine moments? Since that morning, I have come to recognize the look in the eyes of every father in this detention center. I sit here contemplating the immensity of your birth and wonder how many more firsts will be sacrificed to the whims of the US government, which denied me even the chance of furlough to attend your birth. How is it that the same politicians who preach 'family values' are the ones tearing families apart? Deen, my heart aches that I could not hold you in my arms and hear your first cry, that I could not unfurl your clenched fists or change your first diaper. I am sorry that I was not there to hold your mother's hand or to recite the adhan, or call to prayer, in your ear. But my absence is not unique. Like other Palestinian fathers, I was separated from you by racist regimes and distant prisons. In Palestine, this pain is part of daily life. Babies are born every day without their fathers – not because their fathers chose to leave, but because they are taken by war, by bombs, by prison cells and by the cold machinery of occupation. The grief your mother and I feel is but one drop in a sea of sorrow that Palestinian families have drowned in for generations. Deen, it was not a gap in the law that made me a political prisoner in Louisiana. It was my firm belief that our people deserve to be free, that their lives are worth more than the televised massacre we are witnessing in Gaza, and that the displacement that began in 1948 and culminated in the current genocide must finally end. This mere belief is what made the state scramble to detain me. No matter where I am when you read this – whether I'm in this country or another – I want to impress upon you one lesson: The struggle for Palestinian liberation is not a burden; it is a duty and an honor we carry with pride. So at every turning point in my life, you will find me choosing Palestine. Palestine over ease. Palestine over comfort. Palestine over self. This struggle is sweeter than a life without dignity. The tyrants want us to submit, to obey, to be perfect victims. But we are free, and we will remain free. I hope you feel this as deeply as I do. Deen, as a Palestinian refugee, I inherited a kind of exile that followed me to every border, every airport, every form. Borders mean something to me that they may not mean to you. Each crossing required me to prove my docility, my identity and my very right to exist. You were born an American citizen. You may never feel that weight. You may never have to translate your humanity through paperwork, countless visa applications and interview appointments. I hope you use this not to separate yourself from others, but to uplift those who live under the same circumstances that once constrained me. But I won't pretend this citizenship protects you. Not completely. Not when you have my name. Not when those in power still see our people as threats. One day, you might ask why people are punished for standing up for Palestine, why truth and compassion feel dangerous to power. These are hard questions, but I hope our story shows you this: the world needs more courage, not less. It needs people who choose justice over convenience. It is nothing but the dehumanization and racist disregard for Palestinians that renders their lives forgettable and that dares describe Palestinian fathers who love their sons as 'terrorists'. Perhaps that is why the world so quickly forgot the killing of four-month-old Iman Hijjo in Gaza in 2001. Why did Ahmed Abu Artema's beloved son Abdullah die hungry for bread? Who recalls the children lost in the Flour Massacre? Where is the justice for the fathers in the West Bank who carefully dress their sons for prison? Why does liberty not visit the bodies of Palestinian children whose limbs are missing, whose ribs are exposed under thin skin and who are born lovingly only to die under an Israeli bomb? On this first Mother's Day for Noor, I dream of a world where all families are reunited to celebrate the incredible women in their lives. Many years ago, on one of our very first dates, I had asked your mother what she would change in the world if she could. Her simple response was: 'I just want people to be nicer to each other.' Deen, you were born to a mother as gentle as she is fierce. I pray that you live in a world shaped by that kindness. I hope, with all my heart, that you will not witness the oppression that I've known. I hope that you never need to chant for Palestine, because it has long been free with dignity and prosperity for all. Should that day come, know that it was ushered in through the courage of those who came before you. I am certain that in this new world, you and I will visit Tiberias together, drink from the river and marvel at the sea. There, in a free and just Palestine, you will see the fruits of our struggle. Deen, my love for you is deeper than anything I have ever known. Loving you is not separate from the struggle for liberation. It is liberation itself. I fight for you, and for every Palestinian child whose life deserves safety, tenderness and freedom. I hope one day you will stand tall knowing your father was not absent out of apathy, but out of conviction. And I will spend my life making up for the moments we lost – starting with this one, writing to you with all the love in my heart. *Yaba Deen: 'Yaba' (يابا ) is an affectionate term meaning 'dad' in Arabic. In Palestinian Arabic, yaba is often used self-referentially to center the father-son bond in the greeting itself. So when a father says 'yaba', he's using a tender, fatherly voice to address his child, somewhat like saying: 'From your dad, Deen' or 'My son, from your yaba (dad)'.
Yahoo
10-05-2025
- Yahoo
Hattiesburg honors two fallen officers 10 years after their deaths
HATTIESBURG, Miss. (WHLT) – Hattiesburg honored fallen Officers Benjamin Deen and Liquori Tate, who died 10 years ago. On Friday, city officials, police officers and family members came together to honor Deen and Tate. 'They loved their job. Fun, hardworking guys. They loved the community, and they loved the city that they served,' said former Hattiesburg Police Chief Peggy Sealy. Deen and Tate died on May 9, 2015, during a traffic stop near 4th and Ryan Street. Memorial ride will honor two fallen Hattiesburg police officers For their families, the pain still lingers. While they take pride in the officers' heroism, living without them hasn't been easy. 'This is on our mind every day. Our lives, the entire Deen and Tate family, our lives are changed forever. It will never be the same. My weekends, Mother's Day, it'll never be the same,' said Youlander Johnson, the mother of Tate. During Friday's ceremony, Hattiesburg Mayor Toby Barker joined current and former members of the police department to honor the fallen officers during a wreath-laying ceremony. 'That son of mine, he was a loving person. I mean, he was a joy to raise from the day he was born till he left the house. And he loved people. He liked helping people. And he was just he was everybody's friend,' said Dan Deen, the father of Officer Deen. Two local students, including Deen's son, were awarded the Benjamin Deen and Liquori Tate Memorial Scholarship. Close Thanks for signing up! Watch for us in your inbox. Subscribe Now Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
