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City Journal

Who Are the Shadowy Figures Defending Mahmoud Khalil?

The accused Hamas sympathizer is shrouded in mystery—and so are his supporters.

Protestors gather to demand the release of Mahmoud Khalil at Foley Square on March 10, 2025, in New York City. (David Dee Delgado via Getty)
Caption
Protestors gather to demand the release of Mahmoud Khalil at Foley Square on March 10, 2025, in New York City. (David Dee Delgado via Getty)

As it unfurls, the saga of Mahmoud Khalil—the Columbia agitator picked up by immigration enforcement last week—looks less like a complicated immigration-law dispute and more like something out of a John le Carré novel.

But inspect the details, and Khalil’s case gives us a glimpse a well-established network linking American universities, international progressive NGOs, and government agencies. This network places ideologues like Khalil in positions of power and influence and promoting radical policies that challenge both the will of American voters and our national-security interests.

As always in such shady tales, the simplest questions are the hardest to answer. To start: Who, exactly, is Mahmoud Khalil? According to the Guardian, he was born in Syria in 1995 to Palestinian refugees, then fled at 18 to settle in Lebanon. After his detention, however, the U.S. government reported that he was a citizen of Algeria. How did he end up there?

His professional history is equally convoluted. The Guardian claims he worked for various international NGOs, then landed a job with Britain’s Foreign Office, where he helped administer the prestigious Chevening Scholarship program. (The Telegraph, to make an intricate story even more complicated, reported that Khalil worked for the embassy, not the Foreign Office per se). Then it was on to the UN, where Khalil interned for UNRWA—the organization’s agency for Arab Palestinian refugees that, as a recent lawsuit claims, is a major source of staffing and funding for Hamas. How did a Syrian refugee end up in these positions?

Maybe the influencers who gave him these jobs are the same ones who leapt to his defense. Immediately after his arrest, Khalil’s case was taken on by no fewer than 19 lawyers.

Heading Khalil’s legal defense team is Ramzi Kassem, professor of law at the City University of New York, with a panoply of connections. Himself a Syrian immigrant, Kassem is a fellow of the Paul and Daisy Soros Fellowships for New Americans, which helped fund his legal education at Columbia University. At CUNY, Kassem founded Creating Law Enforcement Accountability and Responsibility (CLEAR), which, among other areas of interest, focused on challenging the Trump administration’s treatment of Muslims on the No Fly List. CLEAR has received major gifts from George Soros’s Open Society Foundations and Jeff Bezos’s former wife, MacKenzie Scott.

Kassem’s previous clients include a few members of al Qaida, including Ahmed al-Darbi, a terrorist convicted in 2017 for bombing a French oil tanker, as well as another close associate of Osama Bin Laden’s. In 2022, the Biden administration nevertheless tapped Kassem to serve as a senior policy advisor.

How did Khalil’s predicament come to Kassem’s attention? It’s worth noting that while still a student at Columbia, Kassem was himself a leader of anti-Israeli agitation.

So was another of Khalil’s lawyers, CLEAR’s Shezza Abboushi Dallal. In a recently surfaced video of an online training of anti-Israel activists, Dallal acknowledges that statements in support of Hamas may implicate a non-citizen’s legal status—the very assertion that she and Khalil’s other lawyers are now denying—and advises her charges to remain silent rather than frame themselves. 

There’s nothing inherently nefarious about hardworking and talented people, immigrants or native-born, ending up in positions of power and influence. Nor is it novel for NGOs with deep pockets to promote their worldview and their people. But the Khalil case points at a concerted, long-term effort to capture American institutions, change them from within, and push policies and ideas that lie far outside the social consensus and, arguably, the boundaries permissible by law.

Ramzi Kassem is typical. He is committed to a long list of radical causes, from defanging law enforcement to defending America’s sworn enemies. Nonetheless, he has enjoyed heavy support from progressive philanthropists, accreditation from America’s finest schools, and eventually made his way to Washington to help reshape policy.

Similarly, it is troubling that those who argue, against all available evidence, that Mahmoud Khalil is a martyr on the altar of free speech—rather than someone who violated the terms of his residency by advocating for a terror group—enjoy near-universal access to and support from our finest academic institutions, our best-endowed philanthropies, and our best-placed legal or political elites. Telling foreign nationals to refrain from espousing support for a terror group to evade legal trouble exceeds the bounds of advocacy; it approximates aiding and abetting people in skirting our immigration laws.

If nothing else, the Khalil case demonstrates yet again that for America’s progressive elites, power, not principle, is the currency that counts, and that the system they’ve designed ensures that their power is preserved in perpetuity, defending even those fellow travelers who work to undermine our national-security interests. The only way to regain control of the institutions that these hostile activists have commandeered is to know their playbook and use the law to curb their influence. Shadowy activists subverting the will of the American people and then seeking protection from a bubble of big-money NGOs and ideologically aligned government officials isn’t a safeguard protecting our democracy; it’s a clear and direct threat to our national security and interests.

Read this article, co-authored with Asaf Romirowsky, in The City Journal.