I am a persecuted human rights icon. By Milo Yiannopoulos in The Spectator.
You may have heard: Milo Yiannopoulos was deported from the United States to the United Kingdom on August 28, 2026, one day after being arrested by ICE at Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport in Louisiana.
At 41, in ICE detention
According to the Department of Homeland Security, he legally entered the U.S. on a visa in May 2019 but overstayed, and an immigration judge issued a final order of removal on July 22 after he failed to appear at his hearing. Notably, Yiannopoulos had been a vocal supporter of President Donald Trump’s immigration crackdown and had called for even stricter enforcement.
Very amusing. Despite being provocatively funny and very early at pushing against the globalist narrative in 2015 – 2018, Milo went kind of nuts after that.
In his heyday
But there’s more to the story, as he explains in The Spectator.
Thursday night, New Orleans. I have flown in from Los Angeles for work and am walking off the jet bridge, thinking about dinner, when 15 men in vests coalesce around me. I have never been arrested before. …
I am ever so nice about it all. They take my belt, wallet, every piece of identification, my rosary and Missal, cash. They put me in chains. Real chains. Every man they arrest, whatever he has done, ends up garlanded in steel like this: wincing, hopping, clattering. It hurts more than they make out on TV. … Yes. I am being deported.
Somewhere in Miami, at hearings nobody told me about, a judge has ordered me removed. My work permit has been canceled without a word. The notices were sent to a Florida address I left ten years ago, which, I realize, must have been on purpose. The same agencies have been writing regularly and without incident to my new address for years.
Three of the five warning letters were even returned, marked “addressee unknown.” The arresting agents told me so. When I said I could not find my lawyer’s number, an agent read it to me off his computer screen. But somehow my lawyer had never been informed about any of the past year’s developments. I am stripped, starved, shipped between three detention centers in 12 hours.
Must have pissed someone off:
A few of the agents knew my face from 2016, when I was Donald Trump’s biggest fan. Back then, I called him Daddy. …
The last pair, who drove me to Houston for the flight, said they were getting “calls from Washington” every 20 minutes. They agreed that none of this was normal. “You must have pissed someone off.” …
The irony:
I spent years demanding this agency be let off the leash. And so it is. Yet, I am torn about the fact that I am the only person arrested by ICE in August who has not killed or raped anyone. I might be the only person arrested by them at all: In each new jail, I am the only prisoner. Long corridors of empty cells. Gleaming 2026 SUVs in the parking lot. Agents on steroids in virgin tactical gear. They’ve spent the money. But I don’t think they’ve done much deporting.
Yep, Trump:
Well-connected friends confirm a few days later that this theatrically cruel performance is my punishment for turning on Trump. On air with Candace Owens, I’d accused him of betrayal, cowardice, and capitulation to warmongering Israeli psychopaths.
Like it or not, this makes me a political prisoner, a persecuted human rights icon. I am Mahatma Gandhi. I am Nelson Mandela. I’m not exactly sure who Aung San Suu Kyi is, and can’t be bothered to look it up, but, yes, I am him too.
They keep moving me to keep ahead of my lawyers, who, when they call, are given the name of wherever we just left. I am handed a note and told it’s where I am being taken next; this is a lie. I am promised a phone call, a nurse, medication, a chance to be heard by a judge. All lies. Twenty-four hours without food. Longer without sleep.
No sign of my lawyer. But — of course! — there is a photographer. He, at least, has been given truthful directions. I mean to stare into his lens with defiance and stoicism, but I am fat and covered in filth and stains and drool and I am crying and even border czar Tom Homan can’t bring himself to tweet this one. But he does go on on television to say I have “had my due process.”
The gods must be laughing. But he’s still a great writer (more at the link). And someone, presumably Trump, has overstepped the mark into selective enforcement against a political inconvenience.