Attacking ICE agents is a crime. Operations will continue.
Nas margens de um centro de detenção em New Jersey, semanas de vigília silenciosa cederam lugar a confronto aberto na noite de 5 de junho de 2026, quando manifestantes bloquearam o acesso ao Delaney Hall e agentes do ICE responderam com equipamento de choque e spray de pimenta. Um fotógrafo foi atropelado por um veículo durante a confusão, quatro pessoas foram presas, e o governo federal prometeu prosecutar ao máximo quem obstruir suas operações. No centro da tensão, uma disputa irresolvida sobre o que acontece dentro dos muros — uma greve de fome que autoridades locais confirmam e o ICE nega — revela o quanto a verdade, nestes tempos, também se tornou território contestado.
- Semanas de protestos pacíficos do lado de fora do Delaney Hall explodiram em confronto físico quando manifestantes bloquearam com barris de areia os acessos de veículos à instalação.
- Agentes do ICE saíram com escudos e cassetetes, disparando spray de pimenta na multidão — um jovem chamado Kai relatou ser atingido várias vezes enquanto tentava proteger outros com um skate.
- Um fotógrafo que cobria a cena foi atropelado por um veículo que tentava romper o cerco de manifestantes, sendo levado ao hospital em meio ao silêncio oficial sobre seu estado.
- Quatro manifestantes foram presos por agressão, obstrução e ameaças, enquanto o secretário de Segurança Interna prometeu prosecutar ao máximo qualquer um que interfira nas operações do ICE.
- A disputa sobre uma suposta greve de fome dentro do centro — confirmada por autoridades locais e negada categoricamente pelo ICE — permanece sem resolução, aprofundando a desconfiança entre as partes.
Por semanas, manifestantes se reuniram do lado de fora do Delaney Hall, um centro de detenção do ICE em New Jersey, denunciando condições que descreviam como precárias. Familiares de detidos e autoridades locais afirmavam que havia uma greve de fome em curso, motivada por queixas sobre comida contaminada. O ICE negou tudo com incomum veemência.
Na noite de 5 de junho de 2026, com o toque de recolher imposto pelo prefeito de Newark suspenso, os manifestantes voltaram em maior número. Eles bloquearam os acessos da instalação com barris de areia, cercaram veículos e tentaram impedir fisicamente a passagem. Agentes do ICE responderam com equipamento de choque, escudos e spray de pimenta. Um jovem chamado Kai relatou ser atingido várias vezes pelo agente químico enquanto tentava proteger outros manifestantes com um skate.
O momento mais grave da noite veio quando um veículo de um comboio de funcionários acelerou para romper o cerco e atropelou um fotógrafo que documentava a cena. O jornalista foi levado ao hospital. O ICE e o Departamento de Segurança Interna se recusaram a fornecer detalhes sobre seu estado.
Ao fim da noite, quatro manifestantes haviam sido presos. O secretário Markwayne Mullin foi categórico: atacar agentes do ICE é crime, os responsáveis serão processados com rigor máximo, e as operações da agência continuarão sem interrupção. A contradição sobre o que de fato ocorre dentro dos muros do Delaney Hall permanece aberta — e é justamente essa opacidade que alimenta a tensão nas ruas do lado de fora.
For weeks, demonstrators had gathered outside Delaney Hall, an ICE detention facility in New Jersey, to draw attention to conditions they described as dire. Detainees inside, advocates said, were refusing food in protest—a claim the facility's operators would later deny with unusual force. The crowds came regularly, their presence a steady pressure on the building's perimeter. Then, on the evening of June 5th, 2026, that pressure broke into something sharper.
The immediate trigger was the lifting of a curfew that Newark's mayor, Ras Baraka, had imposed after earlier confrontations. With that restriction gone, protesters returned in larger numbers and with more aggressive intent. They moved to block the facility's vehicle access points, positioning sand barrels at the gates and surrounding cars trying to enter or leave. Some kicked at the vehicles. Others tried to hold them back by hand. The scene had the texture of a standoff—two sides testing each other's resolve.
ICE agents responded by emerging from the building in riot gear, shields raised, batons ready. They moved methodically to clear the obstacles and restore passage. In the chaos, pepper spray was deployed. A young protester named Kai reported being hit multiple times by the chemical rounds while trying to shield other demonstrators with a skateboard. The spray hung in the air. People scattered and regrouped.
Then came the moment that would define the evening. A convoy of workers was attempting to leave the facility. Protesters surrounded the vehicles, chanting, pressing close. One of the cars accelerated to break through the crowd. In doing so, it struck a photographer documenting the scene. The journalist was taken to a hospital for treatment. ICE and the Department of Homeland Security would later decline to provide details about the photographer's condition or injuries.
By night's end, four protesters had been arrested on charges of assaulting law enforcement officers, obstruction, and making threats. The federal government moved quickly to frame the narrative. Markwayne Mullin, the secretary of the Department of Homeland Security, issued a statement—distributed through social media and to news outlets—that made clear the administration's posture. Attacking ICE agents was a crime, he said. Those who did would face maximum prosecution. And the agency's operations would continue without interruption.
Underlying the confrontation was a factual dispute that neither side seemed willing to resolve. Families of detainees, immigrant advocates, and local officials in New Jersey all stated that a hunger strike was underway inside Delaney Hall, driven by complaints about conditions including contaminated food. ICE flatly denied this. In a statement, the agency asserted there was no hunger strike occurring and never had been, despite the testimony of state and local authorities. The contradiction hung unresolved—a fundamental disagreement about what was happening inside the walls, visible only through the actions of those outside them.
Citas Notables
Attacking and obstructing ICE agents is a crime. Any person who attacks law enforcement will be prosecuted with maximum rigor. Protesters will not stop us and ICE operations remain unchanged.— Markwayne Mullin, Secretary of the Department of Homeland Security
There is no hunger strike occurring, nor has there ever been one.— ICE, in response to claims by families, advocates, and local officials
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did the curfew matter so much? It seems like a small administrative thing.
It was the pressure valve. Once Baraka lifted it, people came back in force. The curfew had been keeping crowds smaller, more controlled. Without it, the protests could scale up—and they did.
And the hunger strike—why is ICE so insistent about denying it when local officials say it's real?
Control of the narrative. If there's a hunger strike, it means conditions are bad enough that people are willing to starve rather than endure them. That's a damaging admission. Denial lets ICE say the protests are just agitation, not a response to genuine grievance.
The photographer getting hit—was that intentional?
The source doesn't say. The car accelerated to break through. Whether the driver saw the photographer or was just trying to force passage, we don't know. But the effect is the same: a journalist documenting the scene was injured.
And Mullin's statement feels like a warning.
It is. He's saying obstruction is a crime, prosecution will be maximum, and ICE won't stop. It's a message to protesters that escalation won't work—and to the public that the agency answers to no local authority.
So what happens next?
The arrests will likely move through the courts. The photographer's condition remains unknown. And the protests will probably continue, because the underlying conditions haven't changed.