The Fine People and the Expendable Ones

Who's next?

Eight years ago, torch-bearing young men marched through the University of Virginia, their faces illuminated by hatred as they chanted: "Jews will not replace us." In response, then-President Donald Trump referred to these individuals as "very fine people"—words that didn't merely excuse hate, but legitimized it, amplified it, and embedded it into our national discourse. Now he wants to deport someone who said Israel shouldn't kill my family. Regardless of where one stands on the issue of Israel and Palestine, we should be deeply concerned about what is happening here right now.

The message couldn't be clearer: In Trump's America, some are "fine people" deserving of protection, while others are expendable—their humanity conditional, their rights revocable. But that’s not how the First Amendment works. Where does Jim Jordan’s Committee on the Weaponization of the Federal Government stand on this issue? Inquiring minds would like to know.

Today, in Trump's second term, we witness the bitter harvest of those seeds. Mahmoud Khalil, a Palestinian graduate student at Columbia University, was dragged from his apartment by ICE agents last week. His crime? Daring to speak for his family trapped under bombardment in Gaza. Daring to question policies that have turned his homeland into rubble. Daring to exercise the very rights this nation claims to cherish. Thus far, that is what we know to be as fact. The reality is that this case is likely to be a test of our judicial system when it comes to immigrant rights in our country and where we as the United States draw the line between protected free speech and alleged support for groups designated as terrorists.

Khalil's detention isn't a mistake or an aberration—it's a deliberate strategy. The administration has methodically recategorized pro-Palestinian activism as support for terrorism, transforming concerned students and terrified family members into alleged national security threats. This calculated conflation also serves an additional purpose: to criminalize dissent.

What we're witnessing is governance through terror—a system where fear becomes both the method and the goal. When a graduate student is held and denied access to a private conversation with his attorneys, for speaking about his family's suffering, all of us learn a lesson: your citizenship is fragile, your residency precarious, your voice dangerous.

Every time the government invokes "security" to justify silencing criticism, our Constitution suffers another wound. Every time we accept that justification, we become complicit in its unraveling. This climate doesn't just silence the targeted; it paralyzes everyone. It makes professors hesitate before assigning certain readings, makes students think twice before attending demonstrations, makes journalists question whether to cover certain stories. Democracy cannot breathe in such an atmosphere.

This is our mirror moment—a time when we must look unflinchingly at what America has become and decide if this reflection represents who we wish to be.

Do we accept a nation where young men carrying torches and shouting antisemitic slogans are "fine people," while a student worried about his family's survival is treated as disposable?

Do we accept a two-tiered system of rights, where some Americans are permitted to speak freely while others are punished for the same?

Do we accept the premise that dissent is dangerous and conformity is patriotism?

Traditionally, defense of the First Amendment has been a cornerstone of conservative values. For generations, conservatives have championed free speech as the bedrock of American liberty—a bulwark against government overreach and the foundation of a free society. True constitutional conservatives recognize that when any American's right to speak is threatened, all Americans' rights are diminished.

This moment transcends the tired divisions of partisan politics. When government power is weaponized against dissent—regardless of the content of that dissent—both conservatives and liberals should find common cause in alarm. The principles at stake are neither "left" nor "right" but fundamentally American: the right to speak without fear, to question authority, and to advocate for those we love.

What is happening in regard to Khalil challenges us to prove that America still believes in the principles it professes. His story demands that we answer the question: Who are we, really?

As a former national security official, I know the law is clear: supporting terrorism can be grounds for deportation. I've seen how national security policies should function when properly implemented. The burden of proof lies within the government to show factual evidence that this individual conspired, aided and abetted terrorists. But is that truly what’s happening here? Or is this about weaponizing immigration enforcement to target political speech. If we let this slide, who's next?

We must act swiftly and decisively to uphold the constitutional rights that are under direct assault. We need to demand that Congress exercise oversight over the Trump administration’s use of immigration laws to target individuals based on their political beliefs. Green-card holders have long been considered permanent residents with due process protections, yet Trump’s declaration that Khalil’s arrest is the "first of many" signals a broader plan to use immigration enforcement as a tool of political retribution. 

As a Republican who served as a political appointee under the Bush Administration and later as a career national security official in the Trump White House, I resigned from the Trump Administration when I could no longer reconcile my oath to the Constitution with the actions I witnessed. Today, I implore Americans across the political spectrum to recognize this moment for what it is: a test of our collective commitment to the principles that define us. Our response to Khalil's detention will reveal whether we still believe in the promise of America—a nation where dissent isn't punished but protected, where fear doesn't silence truth, and where "very fine people" are those who stand for the rule of law, our Bill of Rights and for justice.