The Dark Side of Detention: When Protest Becomes Punishment
There’s a chilling story emerging from the shadows of the US immigration system, one that forces us to confront the ethical boundaries of state power. Gabar Choli, a Kurdish filmmaker and activist, has shared his harrowing experience of being force-fed for eight months while on a hunger strike in ICE detention. His account isn’t just a personal tragedy—it’s a stark reminder of how institutions can weaponize medical procedures to silence dissent.
The Hunger Strike as a Last Resort
Choli’s hunger strike wasn’t an act of self-destruction but a desperate plea for humane treatment and a fair resolution to his asylum case. Personally, I think this is where the narrative gets particularly complex. Hunger strikes are often the last tool available to those stripped of agency, a way to reclaim some semblance of control. But what happens when the system responds not with dialogue but with force? Choli’s case shows how ICE transformed his protest into a punishment, using court-sanctioned force-feeding as a tool of coercion. This raises a deeper question: When does medical intervention become a form of torture? What many people don’t realize is that force-feeding, while framed as a life-saving measure, can cause severe physical and psychological harm. Choli’s description of being restrained, having a tube shoved down his throat, and choking on his own blood is a haunting reminder of the dehumanization inherent in such practices.
The System’s Response: A Troubling Pattern
What makes this particularly fascinating—and deeply troubling—is the systemic nature of ICE’s response. Choli’s case isn’t an isolated incident. A Guardian investigation revealed that ICE obtained court orders to force-feed at least 18 hunger strikers between 2025 and 2026. This isn’t about individual misconduct; it’s about policy. From my perspective, this pattern suggests a deliberate strategy to break the will of detainees, to make protest so costly that it becomes unthinkable. ICE’s statement that force-feeding is only used to prevent “imminent life-threatening harm” rings hollow when you consider the broader context. If you take a step back and think about it, the real threat here isn’t to the detainee’s life but to the system’s authority. Choli’s hunger strike was a challenge to the status quo, and the response was to crush it—literally and metaphorically.
The Psychological Toll: Breaking the Human Spirit
One thing that immediately stands out is Choli’s statement that the force-feeding ‘mentally broke’ him. This isn’t just about physical pain; it’s about the psychological warfare waged against detainees. Writing an apology letter to his own body is a detail that I find especially interesting. It speaks to the profound sense of betrayal and disconnection that such treatment can induce. What this really suggests is that ICE’s methods aren’t just about keeping detainees alive—they’re about rendering them compliant. The fact that Choli was denied legal representation and placed in solitary confinement after force-feeding sessions underscores the punitive nature of these practices. It’s not medical care; it’s control. As Dr. Chanelle Diaz aptly put it, ‘That is just not medical care, that is torture.’
Broader Implications: The Erosion of Human Rights
Choli’s story isn’t just about one man’s ordeal; it’s a symptom of a larger crisis in the US immigration system. The use of force-feeding as a tool of deterrence raises serious questions about the rule of law and human rights. What many people don’t realize is that international human rights groups widely consider force-feeding to be torture. Yet, ICE continues to defend its practices under the guise of ‘ensuring safety and well-being.’ This disconnect between rhetoric and reality is alarming. If we accept that force-feeding is a legitimate response to protest, what does that say about our commitment to human dignity? Personally, I think this is a slippery slope. Once we justify such extreme measures in the name of security, we risk normalizing abuse and eroding the very principles we claim to uphold.
Looking Ahead: The Need for Accountability
Choli’s case could be the longest documented instance of force-feeding in ICE detention, but it’s unlikely to be the last. As long as the system prioritizes control over compassion, such abuses will continue. What this really suggests is that reform isn’t enough—we need a fundamental shift in how we approach immigration detention. From my perspective, the first step is transparency. Much of what happens in ICE facilities remains hidden from public view, shielded by secrecy and impunity. We need independent oversight, accountability for abuses, and a reevaluation of the policies that allow such practices to thrive. Choli’s story is a call to action, a reminder that silence in the face of injustice is complicity.
Final Thoughts: The Cost of Inaction
As I reflect on Choli’s ordeal, I’m struck by the resilience of the human spirit—and the fragility of our institutions. His hunger strike was an act of defiance, a refusal to be silenced. Yet, the system responded with a brutality that should shock us all. What this really suggests is that the fight for justice isn’t just about changing policies; it’s about changing hearts and minds. Personally, I think the most important takeaway is this: We cannot claim to be a just society while allowing such abuses to occur in our name. Choli’s story isn’t just his story—it’s ours. And how we respond will say everything about who we are.
