10 nations ratified Palestinian statehood earlier this week. Out of 193, 157 of the UN member states have since recognized Palestine as a state as a result. The Palestinians now have a state, which means the majority of the world accepts. Many people experience the soul-crushing reality of statelessness at borders and in immigration detention, but they continue to be treated as if they don’t.
I frequently assist asylum seekers in detention as a freelance English-Arabic interpreter for Respond Crisis Translation. I have firsthand experience as a Palestinian who is stranded in the increasingly cruel US immigration system.
As his lawyer battled to have him released from detention by US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), I met Mohammad (not his real name) while interpreting during his legal proceedings. Over time, I assisted him on numerous occasions in this endeavor.
Before Israel started its genocidal war, Mohammad made the decision to leave Gaza. He escaped his home, but he found no freedom when he did.
The journey was difficult and brutal. He was abducted by cartel groups, beaten, threatened, and left without his money in countries that refused to recognize his country or the documents he was carrying. He finally arrived in the US. He encountered ICE, and there he encountered it, believing that perhaps the “American dream” could provide him with safety, refuge, and freedom.
Mohammad had already escaped one prison before being detained in another. He embarked on a hunger strike because his only voice, a desperate plea for help, was his own, when he stopped eating.
More than just refusing to eat, his hunger strike was. It was to be denied invisibility. a body breaking so that it can be heard. During his hunger strike, he claimed to have been subjected to psychological pressure, humiliation, and solitary confinement. Another form of punishment was instituted as a result of the hunger strike, which was intended to promote dignity.
After the court made it clear that only if he was deemed mentally stable and medically sound, Mohammad was forced to end the hunger strike. He had no choice but to end his hunger strike in order to fulfill this requirement and have a chance to leave jail.
The court granted Mohammad’s request when he eventually accepted deportation. He could be deported if he did not want to stay, according to the judge and the prosecutor. but deported to a location? The US immigration system only has a passing amount of “Palestine,” which is a word that has meaning for him. The court defaulted to “Israel” because the US does not recognize Palestine as a state. Palestinians are not permitted to enter the West Bank or Gaza, but Israel, which controls the Palestinian territory, does not.
Borders are walls of steel, bureaucracy, and laws, which are not just lines on a map for Palestinians, especially those from Gaza. You might claim that neighbors’ countries allow for entry. Palestinians from Gaza could only return home through Egypt or Jordan prior to the war. The crossing between Egypt and Gaza is currently closed. Palestinians are prohibited from entering Jordan unless they have special permits, which are rare and nearly unobtainable. It may remain unreachable even when “home” is written on a deportation order.
A mirage appeared in Mohammad’s imaginable “redemption,” which was going to the war. Regaining freedom did not mean leaving the US system. It meant confronting the cruel truth that being a Palestinian today means living in isolation, without safe havens, and without the promise of even an unknown return. People from Palestine fall into another trap, even deportation, which may mean returning, for some.
Mohammad continues to insist on returning to Gaza. He has so far fought to avoid being taken to another country. He is still being held by ICE. According to the attorneys, private facilities are paid daily per detainee, so there are financial incentives to prolong detention. Release is frequently delayed even after a court ruling.
His story ultimately involves more than just one man’s unsuccessful asylum claim. Not just about the US’s ongoing opposition to Palestine’s status as a state.
In a world where documents are necessary before dignity is offered, it is about what it means to be stateless. It explores how “home” turns into both a dream and a wound. The dream of freedom and dignity is lost on Gaza-based prisoners who are deported, turning their deportation into a journey not toward safety but to a different, shadowy, closed-door future.
No authority can overthrow the blockade that holds Palestine or the policies that prevent its citizens from returning and moving freely. Courts can sign papers, immigration officials can escort people to airplanes.
