Six-Hour Polygraphs and Forced Reassignments in DHS
Six hour polygraphs forced reassignments – Federal employees working on the Trump administration’s deportation campaign faced an unprecedented wave of intimidation during the final months of Kristi Noem’s tenure and into her successor’s arrival. A thorough investigation by The Guardian uncovered that career officials experienced relentless pressure from Trump loyalists who held key positions throughout the Department of Homeland Security. These political appointees systematically marginalized experienced professionals who questioned potentially unlawful actions, while simultaneously threatening termination or even arrest to silence dissent.
The Polygraph Weapon
Among the most compelling revelations are allegations that numerous employees underwent polygraph examinations lasting up to six hours, administered not through standard security protocols but as deliberate instruments of coercion. According to multiple current and former DHS officials who spoke independently with the publication, these examinations were conducted by United States military personnel—specifically identified as Air Force members—who were temporarily assigned to interrogate civilian staff from a different federal agency.
The Guardian confirmed that several officials underwent these examinations separately, with their accounts aligning remarkably well on crucial details. While the use of polygraphs across various federal departments has received considerable media attention, and the DHS has publicly stated it remains “unapologetic” regarding its efforts to identify whistleblowers, the specific identities of those administering the tests had remained largely unknown until now.
A Climate of Intimidation
Over the past eighteen months, entire organizational units within the department have been dismantled while oversight mechanisms lost both personnel and authority. The divisions handling refugee policy, asylum cases, humanitarian protections, and family unity suffered particularly severe reductions. These disruptions continued even as leadership transitioned to Markwayne Mullin, according to officials who witnessed the changes firsthand.
Harun Ahmed, a former deputy chief in the refugee affairs law division at US Citizenship and Immigration Services, described his experience during a telephone conversation from Texas. “I wanted to work with refugees,” he explained. “I wanted to help. I believe in public service.” Having served the government for approximately seventeen years, Ahmed’s responsibilities included safeguarding legal protections for refugees and asylum seekers navigating American immigration procedures.
They wanted employees to sign off on efforts even when we believed they were immoral, illegal or ahistorical. It didn’t matter what our expertise was. They wanted our blessing.
Following Trump’s return to power in 2025, Ahmed observed that career officials increasingly encountered demands to endorse policies they felt contradicted both the fundamental spirit and intended purpose of systems they had dedicated years to managing. Under Noem’s direction, the department executed more than 675,000 deportations while expanding immigration detention to unprecedented levels. The administration nearly suspended all refugee resettlement programs while accelerating admissions for white South Africans.
Additional measures included resuming family separation practices, broadening deportation transfers to third nations, sending certain immigrants to El Salvador’s Cecot mega-prison, and utilizing Guantánamo Bay as an immigration detention site—a decision a federal judge characterized as “impermissibly punitive.” Career staff members who raised objections to these developments, particularly regarding offshore detention expansion and enforcement escalation, frequently found themselves sidelined, blacklisted, or removed from critical projects.
Eventually recognizing that continuing would require compromising his professional ethics, Ahmed accepted a buyout offered through the so-called “department of government efficiency” (Doge), which was overseen by Elon Musk. “I took it reluctantly,” he reflected. “Not because it’s what I wanted, but because I didn’t see another path forward.”
