Imagine being pinned to a concrete floor by multiple guards while a plastic tube is shoved so violently down your nasal passage that it tears your flesh from the inside. This is not a scene from a dark psychological thriller. This is the grim reality documented inside a Texas immigration facility, where state power intersects with human desperation.
For nearly eight months, Kurdish filmmaker and asylum seeker Gabar Choli endured involuntary force-feeding while locked inside a solitary confinement medical cell at the Port Isabel Service Processing Center in south Texas. His case has dragged a secretive, deeply controversial practice back into the spotlight, raising urgent questions about human rights, medical ethics, and the treatment of detainees within the US immigration system. Don't miss our previous coverage on this related article.
Why Detainees Go on Hunger Strike
When individuals choose to stop eating behind bars, they are rarely doing it on a whim. Hunger strikes inside immigration detention centers represent a last-ditch protest against indefinite confinement, harsh conditions, and the looming threat of deportation. For Choli, a 40-year-old activist who fled political threats tied to his advocacy for Kurdish independence, a hunger strike became the only leverage he felt he had left.
Arrested during a routine check-in following an immigration crackdown, Choli demanded better treatment and a resolution to his detained status. Instead of addressing the underlying grievances, federal authorities sought emergency court orders to bypass his bodily autonomy. To read more about the history of this, BBC News offers an in-depth breakdown.
Medical professionals and human rights organizations have long argued that force-feeding competent hunger strikers violates fundamental medical ethics. The World Medical Association explicitly states that forcing nutrition on a fasting person who is capable of making rational decisions amounts to cruel, inhumane, and degrading treatment. Yet, federal agencies continue to rely on judicial authorizations to override personal consent under the banner of preserving life.
The Mechanical Reality of Coercive Feeding
The mechanics of force-feeding in detention are harrowing. Court records and firsthand accounts detail a routine that resembles assault rather than medical intervention.
Guards rush the cell, wrestling the weakened detainee to the ground. Limbs are locked into physical restraints. Multiple guards pin the body while a medical team forces a tube through the nose, down the esophagus, and into the stomach to pump liquid nutrients.
Choli recalled sessions where nurses pushed the tubing with such excessive force that it lacerated his nasal tissue. Afterward, he was frequently sent back to solitary confinement, left to choke and swallow his own blood. Physical injuries mounted, including severe sinus inflammation, damage to the esophageal lining, and chronic stomach complications.
Beyond the physical toll, the psychological damage runs deep. Choli described the ordeal as an experience that fundamentally broke him, noting that the trauma forced him to write an apology letter to his own body for failing to protect it.
Legal Loopholes and Judicial Compliance
How does a practice widely condemned internationally continue inside American facilities? It happens through the courts.
Immigration and Customs Enforcement routinely petitions federal judges for emergency orders permitting involuntary hydration, blood tests, and nutritional administration. In many instances, detainees facing these legal battles lack adequate representation. Without counsel to challenge the necessity or methods of the intervention, federal requests are often rubber-stamped, allowing coercive measures to continue unchecked for months.
Legal experts point out that turning medical staff into agents of enforcement creates a profound conflict of interest. Doctors are sworn to do no harm, yet participating in restraint-heavy, non-consensual procedures turns the clinic into an extension of the security apparatus.
As public scrutiny grows over these hidden detention practices, the debate over bodily autonomy inside federal custody remains an unresolved crisis. The scars left on individuals like Choli highlight an ongoing struggle where administrative detention policies clash directly with basic human dignity.