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Through the Gates of Hell: American Injustice at Guantanamo Bay
An inspiring true story about an American attorney and his client confronting prejudice and persecution in a prison outside the law, as one fights for the other’s freedom, and the other fights for his life.
“We’ll be watching,” the sergeant said, pointing at a video monitor inside Camp Echo’s guard booth. “For your protection.”
In 2004, attorney Joshua Colangelo-Bryan arrived at Guantanamo Bay to meet Jaber Mohammed, one of six Bahraini detainees his firm had agreed to represent. Colangelo-Bryan had heard these men were “among the most dangerous, best-trained, vicious killers on the face of the earth,” as Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld put it. Colangelo-Bryan didn’t buy the rhetoric, but did find himself wondering if he was about to meet a killer.
Far from being threatening, though, Mohammed welcomed Colangelo-Bryan, even as his ankle was shackled to the floor. Why was Mohammed there? Was he guilty of a crime? These were among the questions Colangelo-Bryan had to answer. Surprisingly, the two spoke for hours about their lives. Mohammed also detailed the inhumane conditions at the prison, including abuse by guards and solitary confinement.
A friendship grew over time, as Colangelo-Bryan worked to bring justice to Mohammed. The Bush administration claimed any “enemy combatant” could be held in Guantanamo forever without a trial, and it became clear that litigation was unlikely to free the Bahrainis. And so, as Mohammed lost hope, Colangelo-Bryan devised a plan to leverage the media and pressure the Bahraini government to negotiate for the release of its citizens. Colangelo- Bryan’s long fight for the Bahrainis was ultimately successful, and in 2007, after several suicide attempts, Mohammed was freed.
Through the Gates of Hell is a powerful account of an unlikely friendship and what it takes to fight for human rights in the post–9/11 era.
“We’ll be watching,” the sergeant said, pointing at a video monitor inside Camp Echo’s guard booth. “For your protection.”
In 2004, attorney Joshua Colangelo-Bryan arrived at Guantanamo Bay to meet Jaber Mohammed, one of six Bahraini detainees his firm had agreed to represent. Colangelo-Bryan had heard these men were “among the most dangerous, best-trained, vicious killers on the face of the earth,” as Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld put it. Colangelo-Bryan didn’t buy the rhetoric, but did find himself wondering if he was about to meet a killer.
Far from being threatening, though, Mohammed welcomed Colangelo-Bryan, even as his ankle was shackled to the floor. Why was Mohammed there? Was he guilty of a crime? These were among the questions Colangelo-Bryan had to answer. Surprisingly, the two spoke for hours about their lives. Mohammed also detailed the inhumane conditions at the prison, including abuse by guards and solitary confinement.
A friendship grew over time, as Colangelo-Bryan worked to bring justice to Mohammed. The Bush administration claimed any “enemy combatant” could be held in Guantanamo forever without a trial, and it became clear that litigation was unlikely to free the Bahrainis. And so, as Mohammed lost hope, Colangelo-Bryan devised a plan to leverage the media and pressure the Bahraini government to negotiate for the release of its citizens. Colangelo- Bryan’s long fight for the Bahrainis was ultimately successful, and in 2007, after several suicide attempts, Mohammed was freed.
Through the Gates of Hell is a powerful account of an unlikely friendship and what it takes to fight for human rights in the post–9/11 era.
- GenresNonfictionHistory
226 pages, Kindle Edition
Published October 14, 2025
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Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews
December 9, 2025
This book will give you a glimpse into the horrific world of Guantanamo Bay, and while I had some frustrations with the book, it ultimately was a great read that I would highly recommend.
The author was a Big Law attorney whose firm decided to represent some Guantanamo Bay detainees pro bono. While the author represented a few clients, this book focuses most on Jaber Mohammed. Colangelo-Bryan depicts Jaber as someone who was detained despite little (actually, miniscule) to no proof of involvement in any terrorist organization, and his detainment resulted in severe mental health issues (understandably). This is a hard read, as you truly understand how little justice is being done, and how much the concept of "the war on terror" gripped the country in making its decisions. I still want to know more about the process of how people first got to Guantanamo, and how the country has worked so tirelessly to detain these individuals without the opportunity for any hearing in court, but that is not what the author was trying to show. He wrote this book to show the experience within Guantanamo in the early to mid 2000s, and Colangelo-Bryan succeeded at that.
My frustrations (which are, all in all, me problems). First, as a public interest attorney, I was frustrated by the Big Law aspect. I didn't care how many hours the author had to be putting in for the firm, because I knew that he was getting paid way more than an attorney who wants to devote their life to this work does. His firm flew him to and from Cuba regularly, and my firm can't even get me coffee. That was a small gripe I had because I would LOVE to do this kind of work, but alas, sometimes you do need money to do some good. Second, there wasn't a lot of legal work actually going on here, and instead a bunch of PR work. While Colangelo-Bryan did file numerous documents in court, the discussion on them was fairly minimal, and I wanted to understand more of what was going on from a legal perspective. It didn't ultimately do much for his client, however, and I know most readers would zone out, so I get the author's choice for reducing the emphasis on that.
All in all, this book is an eye opener on a few of the horrors our nation has done in the name of national security, and I would highly recommend it.
Thank you to Humanitas and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review!
The author was a Big Law attorney whose firm decided to represent some Guantanamo Bay detainees pro bono. While the author represented a few clients, this book focuses most on Jaber Mohammed. Colangelo-Bryan depicts Jaber as someone who was detained despite little (actually, miniscule) to no proof of involvement in any terrorist organization, and his detainment resulted in severe mental health issues (understandably). This is a hard read, as you truly understand how little justice is being done, and how much the concept of "the war on terror" gripped the country in making its decisions. I still want to know more about the process of how people first got to Guantanamo, and how the country has worked so tirelessly to detain these individuals without the opportunity for any hearing in court, but that is not what the author was trying to show. He wrote this book to show the experience within Guantanamo in the early to mid 2000s, and Colangelo-Bryan succeeded at that.
My frustrations (which are, all in all, me problems). First, as a public interest attorney, I was frustrated by the Big Law aspect. I didn't care how many hours the author had to be putting in for the firm, because I knew that he was getting paid way more than an attorney who wants to devote their life to this work does. His firm flew him to and from Cuba regularly, and my firm can't even get me coffee. That was a small gripe I had because I would LOVE to do this kind of work, but alas, sometimes you do need money to do some good. Second, there wasn't a lot of legal work actually going on here, and instead a bunch of PR work. While Colangelo-Bryan did file numerous documents in court, the discussion on them was fairly minimal, and I wanted to understand more of what was going on from a legal perspective. It didn't ultimately do much for his client, however, and I know most readers would zone out, so I get the author's choice for reducing the emphasis on that.
All in all, this book is an eye opener on a few of the horrors our nation has done in the name of national security, and I would highly recommend it.
Thank you to Humanitas and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review!
March 20, 2026
I read this as part of the Activist Lawyer book club. It is a difficult, emotionally demanding read, and I found myself needing to take breaks to process it.
As someone with a legal background, I was particularly struck by how accessible the author makes the legal framework. He explains complex processes and principles in a way that feels clear and engaging, without oversimplifying them, so it is just as readable for those without any legal training.
This book shows, with clarity and care, how departures from ordinary due process and the creation of “special” regimes for terrorism cases have enabled prolonged detention and, in some instances, torture, often on the basis of evidence that would not come close to meeting the threshold for prosecution in any ordinary legal system. This book is not simply a memoir or a legal summary of a collection of cases. It is a deeply human account that asks what it really means to extend basic humanity to others, particularly in contexts where fear and politics make that most difficult. Regardless of where one stands on Guantanamo or broader security debates, the book forces a confrontation with the consequences of eroding fundamental legal protections.
What stayed with me most was the sense of responsibility it leaves the reader with: to question, to challenge, and to resist the easy villainisation of entire groups and religions. The book makes clear how quickly humanity can be stripped away when fear and grief are allowed to define the terms of justice. In the aftermath of 9/11, the American response at Guantanamo was shaped by an urgency and public rhetoric that framed detainees not as individuals, but as part of a faceless, dangerous “other.” Labels like “terrorist” “enemy combatant” became sufficient to suspend ordinary standards of scrutiny, and in doing so, removed the need to see the person behind the accusation. What emerges is a system where legal protections are not just weakened but deliberately set aside, justified by the gravity of the threat. The book exposes how this shift made it possible to detain individuals for years without trial, subject them to treatment that would otherwise be unthinkable, and rely on evidence that would not withstand even basic judicial examination. In that environment, humanity becomes secondary to security, and once that line is crossed, it becomes dangerously easy to justify almost anything.
That is why the book feels so important. It asks the reader to recognise how fragile those commitments to due process and dignity can be, and how essential it is to hold onto them precisely when it feels most difficult. It is a reminder that justice loses its meaning if it is not applied universally, and that stripping away the humanity of others, however it is rationalised, ultimately diminishes us all.
As someone with a legal background, I was particularly struck by how accessible the author makes the legal framework. He explains complex processes and principles in a way that feels clear and engaging, without oversimplifying them, so it is just as readable for those without any legal training.
This book shows, with clarity and care, how departures from ordinary due process and the creation of “special” regimes for terrorism cases have enabled prolonged detention and, in some instances, torture, often on the basis of evidence that would not come close to meeting the threshold for prosecution in any ordinary legal system. This book is not simply a memoir or a legal summary of a collection of cases. It is a deeply human account that asks what it really means to extend basic humanity to others, particularly in contexts where fear and politics make that most difficult. Regardless of where one stands on Guantanamo or broader security debates, the book forces a confrontation with the consequences of eroding fundamental legal protections.
What stayed with me most was the sense of responsibility it leaves the reader with: to question, to challenge, and to resist the easy villainisation of entire groups and religions. The book makes clear how quickly humanity can be stripped away when fear and grief are allowed to define the terms of justice. In the aftermath of 9/11, the American response at Guantanamo was shaped by an urgency and public rhetoric that framed detainees not as individuals, but as part of a faceless, dangerous “other.” Labels like “terrorist” “enemy combatant” became sufficient to suspend ordinary standards of scrutiny, and in doing so, removed the need to see the person behind the accusation. What emerges is a system where legal protections are not just weakened but deliberately set aside, justified by the gravity of the threat. The book exposes how this shift made it possible to detain individuals for years without trial, subject them to treatment that would otherwise be unthinkable, and rely on evidence that would not withstand even basic judicial examination. In that environment, humanity becomes secondary to security, and once that line is crossed, it becomes dangerously easy to justify almost anything.
That is why the book feels so important. It asks the reader to recognise how fragile those commitments to due process and dignity can be, and how essential it is to hold onto them precisely when it feels most difficult. It is a reminder that justice loses its meaning if it is not applied universally, and that stripping away the humanity of others, however it is rationalised, ultimately diminishes us all.
March 1, 2026
An accessible and honest account of an experience challenging a system of abuses perpetuated with impunity. The legal precepts are explained very well, as well as the wider political and social contexts behind things. The author is very much present as a character, as opposed to a more detached style of narration,, and thankfully writes in a way that is generally personable and easy to follow. There are anecdotes and enough personal background to give context and emotional weight to things, but without distracting from the main point. I also like that he is very upfront about his own feelings and misgivings, like his doubts about Jaber’s honesty, and also things like his feelings about moving more into the ‘limelight’, so to say.
I would’ve liked maybe a bit of a wider focus on some of the other clients, since it is ultimately very heavily focused around Jaber. I do get the need for a kind of central throughline to focus on and root for in particular, because otherwise I imagine as a ‘story’ it could be a little scattered. Jaber’s experience is particularly harrowing, and clearly exemplifies the abuses and failures of the US military and justice policy, in things like the lack of any real justification for capture and the invention of shoddy ‘evidence’, the horrendous torture experienced by detainees at various stages, and the stubborn doggedness with which the US government defends these processes. He also comes across as a genuinely charming and likeable guy, and his persistence and positivity jives well with the messaging of the book. The bond formed between the author and Jaber is communicated with a huge amount of warmth and openness, and makes for a good heart to the story.
When other detainees are mentioned, their circumstances are explained very clearly, and it does a good job of humanizing them. Of course, their humanity should be obvious, but so much of the support for systems like Guantanamo Bay relies on the American population continuing to view them as non-human, non-feeling threats to be destroyed, so I appreciate that that aspect was well-developed. I also appreciate the amount of detail that is given in regards to the kind of treatment the Guantanamo detainees are put through, and the convoluted procedures involved in their detention.
Frankly, there’s less ‘law’ in it than I had expected, because ultimately the process has little to do with law and logic at all. It is certainly Kafkaesque, reading how attempts to use any tiny legal route available are consistently thwarted based on bizarre illogic and emotionally driven politics, how the absurdity of the procedures are at multiple points laid bare and yet just continue on. It does work well to convey the sense of hopelessness and alienation that people like Jaber must have been facing. It’s a blatant exposure of how shoddy the evidence and justification for their capture and detainment is that detainee release is just premised entirely on how much diplomatic power and pressure foreign countries are able to exert. I wish it had explored more explicitly how useless legal procedures are when the rule of law is being completely flouted by the institutions that are supposed to uphold them. The work of a lawyer becomes that of a PR agent, because the government has destroyed the meaning and reliability of law itself. It’s obviously there as an overall theme, in the events and the explanations of the author, but I would have liked maybe some more direct analysis of it, and the implications on US politics and legal systems more generally and in the present. It feels a bit more focused on the individual rather than the systems, which works for a first-hand narrative, but looking at some broader elements and institutional problems would have been interesting.
I would’ve liked maybe a bit of a wider focus on some of the other clients, since it is ultimately very heavily focused around Jaber. I do get the need for a kind of central throughline to focus on and root for in particular, because otherwise I imagine as a ‘story’ it could be a little scattered. Jaber’s experience is particularly harrowing, and clearly exemplifies the abuses and failures of the US military and justice policy, in things like the lack of any real justification for capture and the invention of shoddy ‘evidence’, the horrendous torture experienced by detainees at various stages, and the stubborn doggedness with which the US government defends these processes. He also comes across as a genuinely charming and likeable guy, and his persistence and positivity jives well with the messaging of the book. The bond formed between the author and Jaber is communicated with a huge amount of warmth and openness, and makes for a good heart to the story.
When other detainees are mentioned, their circumstances are explained very clearly, and it does a good job of humanizing them. Of course, their humanity should be obvious, but so much of the support for systems like Guantanamo Bay relies on the American population continuing to view them as non-human, non-feeling threats to be destroyed, so I appreciate that that aspect was well-developed. I also appreciate the amount of detail that is given in regards to the kind of treatment the Guantanamo detainees are put through, and the convoluted procedures involved in their detention.
Frankly, there’s less ‘law’ in it than I had expected, because ultimately the process has little to do with law and logic at all. It is certainly Kafkaesque, reading how attempts to use any tiny legal route available are consistently thwarted based on bizarre illogic and emotionally driven politics, how the absurdity of the procedures are at multiple points laid bare and yet just continue on. It does work well to convey the sense of hopelessness and alienation that people like Jaber must have been facing. It’s a blatant exposure of how shoddy the evidence and justification for their capture and detainment is that detainee release is just premised entirely on how much diplomatic power and pressure foreign countries are able to exert. I wish it had explored more explicitly how useless legal procedures are when the rule of law is being completely flouted by the institutions that are supposed to uphold them. The work of a lawyer becomes that of a PR agent, because the government has destroyed the meaning and reliability of law itself. It’s obviously there as an overall theme, in the events and the explanations of the author, but I would have liked maybe some more direct analysis of it, and the implications on US politics and legal systems more generally and in the present. It feels a bit more focused on the individual rather than the systems, which works for a first-hand narrative, but looking at some broader elements and institutional problems would have been interesting.
March 26, 2026
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for this ARC.
This is a really tough read. I obviously already knew Guantanamo is bad, but it's REALLY bad. And by reading this memoir, of someone who fought for these detainees' rights, and seeing how desperately the US government tried and tries to keep the detainees from having any rights at all through legal loopholes, and who directly talks to detainees, who shows how slowly, he realises that what he thought outrageous and fabricated at first is actually common practice, really brings it to your attention in a way you can't ignore. I'm not sure I have words to describe this memoir, because it left me angry and outraged and in shock.
This memoir was very accessible, using basic, plain language to describe not only the interviews/conversations with the detainees but also the whole legal surroundings of it all. It talks not only about individual human rights abuses, but also about the securitisation of "terrorism" and the special rights regime this securitisation enables. The focus on Jaber, as a three-dimensional individual rather than just a potential terrorist or a Guantanomo detainee, really helped remind you that the US is doing this to PEOPLE with wishes and families and personalities, with senses of humour, too (Jaber recounting which bad words he learned from the guards and then asking Colangelo-Bryan to not tell his mother he said these words made me laugh out loud, it was so weird but also utterly fitting).
I would definitely recommend this to anyone interested in the US as an imperial hegemon, because that is a big part of why anything happening in this memoir was able to happen this way at all.
This is a really tough read. I obviously already knew Guantanamo is bad, but it's REALLY bad. And by reading this memoir, of someone who fought for these detainees' rights, and seeing how desperately the US government tried and tries to keep the detainees from having any rights at all through legal loopholes, and who directly talks to detainees, who shows how slowly, he realises that what he thought outrageous and fabricated at first is actually common practice, really brings it to your attention in a way you can't ignore. I'm not sure I have words to describe this memoir, because it left me angry and outraged and in shock.
This memoir was very accessible, using basic, plain language to describe not only the interviews/conversations with the detainees but also the whole legal surroundings of it all. It talks not only about individual human rights abuses, but also about the securitisation of "terrorism" and the special rights regime this securitisation enables. The focus on Jaber, as a three-dimensional individual rather than just a potential terrorist or a Guantanomo detainee, really helped remind you that the US is doing this to PEOPLE with wishes and families and personalities, with senses of humour, too (Jaber recounting which bad words he learned from the guards and then asking Colangelo-Bryan to not tell his mother he said these words made me laugh out loud, it was so weird but also utterly fitting).
I would definitely recommend this to anyone interested in the US as an imperial hegemon, because that is a big part of why anything happening in this memoir was able to happen this way at all.
November 10, 2025
This book is really touching. It's intense and frustrating, reading about how the US essentially kidnapped people from around the world and held them captive with no charges. The author was a lawyer for several detainees, and the story centers around one named Jaber. Jaber's experience is intense to read about, and involves several trigger warnings.
The book jumps back and forth between talking about the author's progress in helping Jaber get out of Guantanamo Bay, and his own experiences in Kosovo, with 9/11, and dealing with bureaucracy. I appreciated that he included the cultural and political context of that time, but I found myself rushing through those sections to get back to Jaber's story. I also found the chapter about the author's experience on 9/11 to be too extensive. It's relevant that he was concerned about his family members living in NYC because it established that 9/11 was personal for him. But I didn't need to read that level of detail about his family's communication that day.
The book jumps back and forth between talking about the author's progress in helping Jaber get out of Guantanamo Bay, and his own experiences in Kosovo, with 9/11, and dealing with bureaucracy. I appreciated that he included the cultural and political context of that time, but I found myself rushing through those sections to get back to Jaber's story. I also found the chapter about the author's experience on 9/11 to be too extensive. It's relevant that he was concerned about his family members living in NYC because it established that 9/11 was personal for him. But I didn't need to read that level of detail about his family's communication that day.
January 16, 2026
Through the Gates of Hell" by Joshua Colangelo-Bryan is a harrowing and deeply human account that stays with you long after the final page. As a reader drawn to nonfiction that explores resilience and truth, I found this memoir both emotionally challenging and profoundly necessary.
The author’s unflinching narrative guides us through experiences that test the limits of human endurance, while never losing sight of the dignity and hope that persist even in darkness. The prose is direct yet poetic, balancing vivid detail with reflective depth.
What stands out most is the book’s ability to transform personal trauma into a universal reflection on justice, memory, and survival. While the subject matter is heavy, the writing never feels exploitative—instead, it invites empathy and understanding.
This is not an easy read, but it is an important one. I would recommend it to readers of memoirs, historical accounts, and anyone interested in narratives of human resilience. A powerful testimony that deserves a wide audience.
The author’s unflinching narrative guides us through experiences that test the limits of human endurance, while never losing sight of the dignity and hope that persist even in darkness. The prose is direct yet poetic, balancing vivid detail with reflective depth.
What stands out most is the book’s ability to transform personal trauma into a universal reflection on justice, memory, and survival. While the subject matter is heavy, the writing never feels exploitative—instead, it invites empathy and understanding.
This is not an easy read, but it is an important one. I would recommend it to readers of memoirs, historical accounts, and anyone interested in narratives of human resilience. A powerful testimony that deserves a wide audience.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 9, 2025
Thank you to NetGalley and Humanitas Media for the eARC!
This book was amazing and so important. Colangelo-Bryan is a fantastic and engaging writer. He told the whole story, especially Mohammed's portion, with such thoughtfulness. While the detainees shouldn't need to be given humanity (since they are human), Colangelo-Bryan humanized his clients. I don't think anyone should be detained indefinitely without charges, but if that hadn't already been my viewpoint, I think Colangelo-Bryan really would have opened my eyes.
It was also really interesting to hear what some of the guards were told in order to "make" them treat the prisoners horribly. It's definitely not an excuse, but it did make the picture clearer.
I'm glad that Colangelo-Bryan didn't shy away from mentioning the abuse that Mohammed and the others experienced. But he also focused on their families and their emotional experiences (both the detainees and the detainees' families).
It was so interestesting, too, to read about what was necessary to get the detainees removed from Guantanamo.
This book was amazing and so important. Colangelo-Bryan is a fantastic and engaging writer. He told the whole story, especially Mohammed's portion, with such thoughtfulness. While the detainees shouldn't need to be given humanity (since they are human), Colangelo-Bryan humanized his clients. I don't think anyone should be detained indefinitely without charges, but if that hadn't already been my viewpoint, I think Colangelo-Bryan really would have opened my eyes.
It was also really interesting to hear what some of the guards were told in order to "make" them treat the prisoners horribly. It's definitely not an excuse, but it did make the picture clearer.
I'm glad that Colangelo-Bryan didn't shy away from mentioning the abuse that Mohammed and the others experienced. But he also focused on their families and their emotional experiences (both the detainees and the detainees' families).
It was so interestesting, too, to read about what was necessary to get the detainees removed from Guantanamo.
August 11, 2025
I devoured this book. I knew things like this went on but a personal look at one man’s story through the telling of his attorney was life changing. Not only was this book informative on so many levels but it made me feel compassion, rage, gratitude, and agony. I went through many emotions. I am so glad this book exists and that I read it. It’s absolutely important to stay informed about things that happen in the world but to learn one person’s story from the beginning to the current times makes it easier to relate to on a human level. This book changed me for the better.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.
August 19, 2025
He’s not a story teller. Some parts of the book, especially in the beginning, seem like they belong in a memoir. I wouldn’t say he’s particularly organized with his thoughts; but, the parts of the book that actually discussed his work with the prisoners at Guantanamo bay were gripping. It is alarming that I didn’t know this was going on. It is even more alarming that it’s still an operating prison we use. I am glad for the happy ending. I cried tears of sadness, of joy, of laughter, and of relief. I didn’t think I would cry so much when I picked this book out for an early copy read. I recommend!
October 11, 2025
3.25 stars
A gripping read about the systemic abuse inside Guantanamo Bay. I found this to be very interesting and eye-opening. The writing was good, but the story meandered and often went into things that I felt were irrelevant to what should have been the main focus. I wanted more Guantanamo Bay and less everything else. I didn't feel like the main focus of the book was Guantanamo Bay, but instead I felt like it was a memoir about a lawyer who happened to have a client in Guantanamo Bay.
A gripping read about the systemic abuse inside Guantanamo Bay. I found this to be very interesting and eye-opening. The writing was good, but the story meandered and often went into things that I felt were irrelevant to what should have been the main focus. I wanted more Guantanamo Bay and less everything else. I didn't feel like the main focus of the book was Guantanamo Bay, but instead I felt like it was a memoir about a lawyer who happened to have a client in Guantanamo Bay.
January 15, 2026
A fascinating insight into the daily horrors of Guantanamo Bay and the battle for justice.
My full review can be found here: https://substack.com/home/post/p-1845...
My full review can be found here: https://substack.com/home/post/p-1845...
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews