‘I could be next’: international students at Columbia University feel ‘targeted’ after Mahmoud Khalil’s arrest

It was 4am and a Columbia University master’s student two months away from graduation lay awake in bed. His heart thumped so hard, his chest began to hurt. His hands got colder and colder; he was unable to speak. This had become an agonizing nightly routine for the 24-year-old from India since 8 March, when immigration officials handcuffed the Columbia graduate Mahmoud Khalil and took him into detention in Louisiana.

“What scares me the most is that I would be fast asleep at home and I would hear a bang on my door and I’d be taken away in the middle of the night by Ice and nobody will ever know what happened to me,” said the student, who attended multiple protests to support Palestine around New York City. “It feels as if people are getting targeted for just speaking up for their political views last year.”

Khalil was an organizer at Columbia’s Gaza Solidarity Encampment, part of a diverse community that ate, danced, prayed and protested together, demanding the university divest from corporations linked to Israel as violence in Gaza escalated.

The federal immigration officers who arrested Khalil gained entry into the Columbia-owned building where he lived and told him his green card, which grants him permanent residence in the US, had been revoked. The Department of Homeland Security accused him of leading “activities aligned to Hamas, a designated terrorist organization” and is attempting to deport him, but has not alleged he committed any crimes. His lawyers are challenging his detention and potential deportation, and said agents did not provide an arrest warrant. Khalil’s arrest came after Donald Trump vowed to deport student visa holders who participated in pro-Palestinian protests, a move legal experts have called a flagrant violation of free speech.

Now, Columbia students who are not US citizens, some who have vocally supported Palestinian rights, told the Guardian they feel they must be careful who they speak to and censor what they say. They fear being questioned by Ice agents, having their visas revoked or being arrested and detained. Some feel like they are being watched while walking around Morningside Heights and on campus, while others are reluctant to visit family or friends overseas in case they are not permitted back in the country.

Thien Miru under the Alma Mater statue at Columbia University on 15 March 2025. Photograph: Jazzmin Jiwa

“When I leave my apartment, when I go out, I’m just so much more aware and cautious of who’s around me,” said Seher Ahmed, a psychology master’s student from Pakistan. “I went for a run this morning, and I’ve never felt this way before, but I felt like everyone was, like, looking at me.”

Another student who arrived at Columbia in August last year to study journalism had been inspired by student reporters’ coverage of campus protests. She photographed a vigil where journalism school students recited names of the more than 100 Palestinian and Lebanese journalists killed in Gaza. For a reporting class, the 21-year-old wrote about an anti-Trump rally on election night that called for an end to the Israel-Gaza war. She posted her work and discussed related issues on Instagram and X.

But just days away from applying for a year-long work visa that would follow her expected graduation this May, she stopped posting her opinions and made her accounts private. She is reconsidering attending a friend’s wedding overseas in case she is not allowed back in the country. “I feel like I’m being paranoid, but I’m really scared,” she said.

Ahmed, who attended women’s rights marches in Pakistan from the age of 15 with her mother, began an art piece after Khalil’s arrest: a meditation on the Urdu translation of the word freedom, with blue ink pen swept across white canvas. “I come from a Muslim country, so did he. I believe in the same things he does, freedom and basic human rights and just standing up for a place that needs our voice right now,” said Ahmed. Her paralyzing fear is rooted in the idea that the US government will misconstrue those values as “pro-Hamas” and revoke her student visa.

“We’re not terrorists, or, like, supporting terrorists. We’re trying to prevent a genocide from happening,” said Ahmed.

Imam, a graduate student, went to the encampment – once with his professor – to join protests, listen to speakers including journalist Motaz Azaiza and Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and attend Friday prayers. The 30-year-old has been attending classes over Zoom or skipping them altogether: he feels he “could be next” on Ice’s list, without having any knowledge of what he has done wrong. Two months away from graduation, he is conflicted about attending more protests, which have continued on and off campus in support of Khalil and Palestine. “I want to do something, I feel so hopeless,” he said. “But also everything I do is going to cost me a bigger risk.”

On 11 March, three days after Ice arrested Khalil, Ranjani Srinivasan, a Columbia PhD student from India who participated in campus protests, “self-deported” after her student visa had been revoked, DHS said. On 13 March, DHS presented warrants and searched two students’ dorm rooms on campus. In Newark, immigration agents arrested Leqaa Kordia, a Palestinian from the West Bank, after saying her student visa had expired.

That federal agents can target a student or recent graduate without charge is a chilling reminder of the oppressive environments that some international students left behind. For a 22-year-old master’s student from Russia who lives in university housing, Khalil’s arrest brought back memories of police knocking on doors to draft male citizens at the start of the Russia-Ukraine war. She said the spirit of the university had changed; now it feels like “the police state is coming after you”.

“Your home should be your safe space. But ever since the arrest, anytime I hear footsteps at night in the Columbia housing – the walls are super thin so you hear everything – I’m always like, ‘Who is that? Who is that?’” she said.

This week, Yale Law School professors warned international students about an impending Trump travel ban, saying they should avoid leaving the US or return immediately to the US if abroad. Brown issued a similar warning to its international students.

“People look at the global north thinking they have things so much better. There are better laws to protect your rights,” said Thien Miru, a post-graduate student from Indonesia. Now there is overwhelming concern that if a green card holder can be detained, a student visa holder has little protection.

The Trump administration is intent on bringing Columbia to heel: last week it sent a letter to the university demanding measures such as a mask ban, winding down the Middle Eastern, South Asian and African studies department and empowering campus law enforcement in exchange for any of the $400m federal funding it had clawed back after “inaction in the face of persistent harassment of Jewish students”, according to the administration.

Mahmoud Khalil on the Columbia University campus in New York on 29 April 2024. Photograph: Ted Shaffrey/AP

In several emails to students and faculty, Columbia’s interim president, Katrina Armstrong, emphasized the need to “stand together”. “Our university is defined by the principles of academic freedom, open inquiry, and respect for all,” she wrote. One email linked to a public safety webpage outlining protocols for potential Ice campus visits. But some students interpreted this to mean they were responsible for dealing with immigration officials alone. Columbia did not respond to the Guardian’s request for comment.

While studying for her two-year degree in social work, Miru, 35, learned about advocating for those who need help. She said the university needs to “go the extra mile” by mediating with those in power to protect its students’ rights.

“I’ve heard a lot of people at Columbia say that this is our community, so what are you going to do if your community is experiencing something like this?” said Miru. “I am expecting something more than just sending us super-long emails. Prove to us that we are part of your community.”

On 14 March, Khalil’s lawyers released a video of him being taken away from his wife, Noor Abdalla, a US citizen who is eight months pregnant, by plainclothes immigration officers. “As a woman I feel it’s so hard for her to think about raising your child without support from your partner,” said Miru, a mother of two girls. “If they deport her husband, family separation is not a good idea, so I’ve been thinking a lot about this little family. I’m speechless.”

Miru made the difficult decision to leave her daughters with her parents in Indonesia to get her degree, after her father gave her books about the US and talked for years about the high quality of education while she was growing up. “I also got accepted to some universities in Australia, but since Columbia also accepted me, I thought let’s aim for the highest, let’s aim for the stars,” said Miru. Her hope was to bring her daughters to the US so they could also study there. Now, she’s questioning whether she should give up on her aspirations and move back home.

• Some names have been withheld for sources’ safety.

Jazzmin Jiwa is an international journalist and documentary maker currently based in New York City. Reporting contributed by Duaa Shah, a student at Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism.