Afghan woman deported via secretive terror court without charges in historic first

A woman with legal permission to live in the United States was sent back to Afghanistan this summer without ever being charged with a crime. Nazira Haji Zada, 47, a permanent resident living in Fort Worth, Texas, chose to accept deportation rather than continue fighting her case in a court she and her lawyers say operated in violation of the Constitution.

The court that heard her case—the Alien Terrorist Removal Court—had never been used before. Created by Congress in 1996, it was designed to handle deportation proceedings involving non-citizens when prosecutors possess classified evidence related to national security and terrorism. The theory was sound enough: sometimes the government needs to protect sources or methods by keeping evidence secret. But the mechanism had sat unused for three decades until prosecutors brought Haji Zada before it in July.

The government's case against her rested on family connections. Her son, Abdullah Haji Zada, and her son-in-law, Nasir Ahmad Tawhed, had been convicted of plotting a mass shooting on Election Day 2024, inspired by the Islamic State. Prosecutors portrayed Nazira Haji Zada as the "matriarch" of the group, someone who had worked to radicalize her family members. But she herself was never charged with any crime. No indictment. No criminal complaint. No formal accusation that she had done anything illegal.

Instead, the government moved to deport her through this specialized court, where the evidence against her remained classified. Her court-appointed lawyers, Matthew Farley and Mary Manning Petras, were denied access to the materials prosecutors intended to use. They could not see what the government claimed she had done. They could not challenge it directly. They could not mount a full defense. This is the constitutional problem that now sits at the center of the case.

Faced with a proceeding she could not adequately contest, Haji Zada agreed to leave. The Department of Justice announced the outcome as a victory. Attorney General Todd Blanche called it "a landmark case" and "a win for national security and the rule of law." The statement said she had "conceded that she is an alien terrorist," though her own lawyers dispute that characterization of her choice.

Her attorneys issued a sharp response. "Our client's choice to consent to removal should not be seen as an endorsement of this court's legitimacy," they said in a statement. They argued that forcing a lawful permanent resident into court while hiding the evidence used against her amounts to a plain violation of due process—a constitutional protection that applies to all persons in the United States, not just citizens. They predicted the court itself would eventually be struck down as unconstitutional once a judge was asked to examine it directly.

The case raises a question that will likely reach higher courts: Can the government deport someone based on classified evidence they cannot see or challenge? The Alien Terrorist Removal Court was built on the premise that national security sometimes requires secrecy. But Haji Zada's lawyers argue that secrecy cannot override the fundamental right to know what you are accused of and to confront the evidence against you. That tension—between security and fairness—is now the unresolved legal question the case leaves behind.