Why Have Hundreds of Thousands Fled Ecuador Since 2020?

By Marshall Plane, Erica Criollo

Turning to shield herself from the biting January wind, 40-year-old Yolanda explained to us the tragic set of events that took her from her thriving market stall in Ecuador to the Manhattan street where she now sells hot meals to residents of a nearby migrant shelter.

Yolanda was part of a merchant association in Cuenca, Ecuador. In 2021, local gangs began extorting these vendors, charging a monthly “security fee.” From there, things only got worse. “The next thing they did was try to recruit our children,” she recalled. “I have a 20-year-old son. He’s the only child I have. They ordered me to give them my son so that he could work for them selling drugs.”

After she reported this to the police, Yolanda was beaten and robbed by gang members. Fearing for her life, she decided to leave Ecuador. “I told my son we couldn’t stay [in Ecuador], because these gangs are all over the country,” she said. “They have connections.” Having crossed seven countries to reach the United States, the two are now renting a room from an Ecuadorian woman in Brooklyn. “I’m here by the will of God, trying to get my daily bread,” she told us. 

Yolanda’s journey is part of a sudden exodus from Ecuador. Fueled by economic hardship and a surge in violence, over 244,000 Ecuadorians have requested asylum in the US since 2021, the 8th-highest of all nationalities. Of those, 57% have settled in New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut, states with large Ecuadorian communities where many have contacts. At 52,000, Ecuador is the leading country of origin for asylum seekers in New York City.

Figure 1: Notices to appear in immigration court issued to Ecuadorian nationals by month. Source: Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse

Between December 2024 and January 2025, The Immigration Lab conducted fifty-five interviews with asylum seekers and recent immigrants in New York City. Thirty of the individuals we spoke to were from Ecuador. Two significant patterns emerged: many of them were small-business owners in Ecuador who faced extortion from gangs or parents who fled to protect their children from forced gang recruitment and violence. Their stories highlight the devastating impact of rising gang violence, economic instability, and the government’s failure to protect its citizens, all of which have contributed to a major exodus from the country. 

In 2018, Ecuador was one of the safest countries in Latin America, with a homicide rate around 6 per 100,000—a figure comparable to the United States. By 2023, its homicide rate was the highest in the region at 47 per 100,000. These statistics reflect what many interviewees described as a collapse of public safety in the country of 18 million.

Source: InSight Crime

Ecuador is the latest country to fall victim to the failure of US-led drug policy in the Western Hemisphere. A shift in trafficking routes was the proximate cause of the recent spike in violence. With security tightening in Colombian ports, international traffickers began using ports on Ecuador’s Pacific coast to smuggle cocaine to North America and Europe. Factors such as lax security, a weak judicial system, and official corruption made Ecuador an attractive transit point.

Control over these newly lucrative routes became hotly contested, a process worsened when the nation’s largest gang, Los Choneros, split into several factions in 2020. The policy of dividing inmates by gang affiliation exacerbated the prison violence it was supposed to prevent and made prisons a nexus of recruitment and coordination for major gangs.

Gangs’ increased need for manpower to control contested areas coincided with an economic downturn worsened by the pandemic. From 2019 to 2022, unemployment, underemployment, and poverty all increased. Gang recruiters began frequenting schools and soccer pitches in impoverished areas, recruiting youths with promises of income and status. When this fails, they often use force, threatening the family members of those who refuse to join.

According to InSight Crime, this is especially common in strategically important, contested areas where gangs need manpower to assert control. A prime example is Esmeraldas, a coastal region that has seen severe violence due to its utility as a chokepoint for cocaine entering the country from Colombia. “Ecuador has practically fallen to pieces,” says Miguel, a 40-year-old fishmonger from Esmeraldas. When he didn’t let Los Lobos recruit his stepson, they kidnapped and beat the boy. “He came home all beaten, swollen,” Miguel recalls. “We had to leave everything behind, because otherwise they were going to kill us.”

Twenty percent of our participants said forced recruitment of their children forced them to flee Ecuador. Another 23% were small business owners who said gang extortion made their lives impossible.  Reports of extortion grew nearly 800% from 2021 to 2023. According to InSight Crime, gangs that lose control of cocaine trafficking routes often turn to extortion to finance their operations.

Source: InSight Crime

Anthony, a 43-year-old father of three from Guayaquil, told us extortion ruined his growing business as a self-employed trucker. “When we said that we didn’t have any more to give, they said they were going to bring reprisals. They were going to kidnap my son, kill him,” he recalled. “Unfortunately, the politicians are corrupt up to the police themselves, so we couldn’t make a report.”

According to a November 2022 poll, 75% of Ecuadorians similarly viewed the police as unreliable. Police corruption has exacerbated Ecuador’s crisis, allowing the flow of thousands of weapons to gangs. In many cases, officers who try to challenge gangs’ power have been assassinated. This fate nearly befell Marcelo, 29, a police officer and restaurant owner in the city of Machala. In late 2022 gang hitmen arrived and committed the first murder in what Marcelo says had been a very peaceful city. “We arrested them the next day,” he said. “Because of that arrest, I received multiple death threats. They knew my address, my restaurant, my children.” Marcelo now lives in Ridgewood, Queens, selling bread and delivering for Grubhub to make ends meet.

While increased violence has fueled emigration from Ecuador, many interviewees were also motivated to come by economic advancement, particularly that of their children. As of 2022, 25% of Ecuador’s population lived in poverty and was classified as having “inadequate employment.” When asked why she came to America, Katy, 29, immediately responded, “My son. With my love as a mother, I wanted my son to have more opportunities, learn another language, go to college. I want him to have what I didn’t have.”

Others, especially those who came alone, were focused on improving their family’s situation back in Ecuador. “I come from a poor family, we don’t have many resources, that’s why we came,” says David, 33. “I want to buy a house [in Ecuador] for my daughter, because right now we don’t have a home.”

Some indigenous Ecuadorians felt constrained by both poverty and discrimination. Pedro, 38, from the Shuar people of the Ecuadorian Amazon, said his departure was motivated by a feeling that racism in Ecuador would prevent his daughters from succeeding. “Just for being indigenous, for being Shuar, people assume you’re ignorant,” he said. In addition, the candy vendors on New York City’s subways are largely Quechua women from the Andean highlands, many of whom were also vendors back home.

These women, like many recent arrivals, are currently struggling to find a reliable niche in New York City’s labor market as they seek to rebuild their lives. In our next article, we will highlight notable patterns in the experiences of Ecuadorians working to adjust to their new homes.

Marshall Plane is a Research Assistant at The Immigration Lab at American University

Erica Criollo is the Research Coordinator at The Immigration Lab at American University

Climate Disaster, Human Displacement, and the Risks of Non-Economic Loss for Latin America and the Caribbean

By Robert Albro

Associate Director, CLALS

April 8, 2025

Migrants use a dam to cross into the US in Texas on Saturday. By Free Malaysia Today

Recent devastating fires in Hawaii, the Pacific Northwest, and Los Angeles, similarly catastrophic floods in Kentucky and severe hurricane damage in North Carolina, have brought home to people in the U.S. that natural disasters made worse by climate change are more frequently displacing a growing number of people around the world. An estimated 220 million people have been displaced by weather-related disasters over the previous decade, which amounts to approximately 60,000 per day. That number is expected to grow.

Over that same period an estimated 7.7 million people in Latin America and the Caribbean have been displaced due to disasters, with climate change an increasing contributor. In recent years the region has been repeatedly devastated by hurricanes, as well as floods and wildfires, all of which have become larger, more frequent, and damaging as a result of climate change.

In 2017 hurricanes Maria and Irma pummeled the Caribbean. Maria wrought long-lasting damage, leaving Puerto Rico without power for almost a year, with an estimated 130,000 people leaving the island in the storm’s aftermath to resettle in Florida and elsewhere. Irma followed soon thereafter, displacing a total of 1.7 million in 15 countries and territories, making it the largest global disaster event that year. In 2019 Dorian, the strongest recorded hurricane ever to hit the Bahamas, left at least 70,000 homeless. In 2024 Beryl tore through large parts of the Caribbean and Yucatan Peninsula, displacing an estimated 200,000 while damaging or destroying 90 percent of homes and buildings.

Massive flooding events are also now more common in Latin America. A result of the El Niño-la Niña oscillation, climate change has made such floods twice as likely. Brazil alone has been the scene of recurring annual flooding. In 2022 torrential rains caused the worst floods on record leading to nearly 700,000 displaced Brazilians. Again in 2024 a period of intense rainfall during April and May produced the worst floods to hit Brazil in over 80 years, displacing over 600,000. Many of these were migrants from other countries living in Brazil.

Wildfires are also becoming an increasingly familiar annual occurrence, particularly in South America. Since the 1970s the number of days per year with conditions of high fire risk have quadrupled in some parts of South America. Over the past decade the average annual number of wildfires has steadily risen, and 2024 saw the highest recorded number of fire hotspots ever in South America. Below-average rainfall in many areas, together with higher temperatures, and prolonged draughts, aggravated by logging and deforestation, are the main contributors.

In recent years Argentina, Chile, Bolivia, and Brazil have been particularly hard hit. In February 2024 an estimated 40,000 people in Chile’s Valparaíso region were displaced by fire, with 14,000 houses damaged or destroyed. So far in 2025 three large-scale fires in Argentina’s Patagonian region displaced more than 200 families. Finally, Brazil is in the midst of its worst draught since at least the 1950s. And Bolivia and Brazil experienced record numbers of fires in 2024, with thousands displaced.

Taken together, millions of people have been displaced in Latin America and the Caribbean in recent years as a result of climate-exacerbated natural disasters. But these numbers only account for rapid-onset destructive weather events. They do not reflect rising human mobility in response to slower-onset and harder to discern climate impacts and forms of environmental degradation, such as glacial melt, desertification, or sea level rise, which are directly negatively affecting agricultural economies throughout the region and forcing people to move. Addressing the consequences of displacement for these less obvious reasons promises to be among the major humanitarian challenges of the rest of this century.

The great majority of people displaced by environmental upheaval are internal and not international migrants. But particularly smaller and comparatively under-resourced states do not typically have the financial means or capacity to provide ongoing humanitarian assistance to victims of climate-related disasters. Regional entities, such as the Caribbean Disaster Emergency Management Agency (CDEMA), provide much needed resources and expertise, if often insufficient and unsustainable over the long term. International aid groups and multilateral agencies also assist with recovery and resilience efforts, but have been slow to organize and channel adequate resources to address the losses and damages incurred as a result of climate catastrophes. Short sighted U.S. disinvestment in humanitarian aid promises to make this situation considerably worse.

In the aftermath of disaster, understandably an initial priority of states is to mount a recovery effort, which includes stabilizing the economy and rebuilding critical material assets and infrastructure, including housing. But, as I’ve explored in depth elsewhere, intangible forms of non-economic loss are, so far, almost entirely neglected. And yet, as climate-induced displacement becomes widespread, we ignore their significance at our own peril.

Non-economic losses encompass family separations, the fragmentation of community, decline of social cohesion, disruption of cultural identities and relationships to heritage, among others. We should understand the difficulties posed by such losses as comparable to characteristic challenges of many post-conflict societies and failed states, where absent families, the erosion of norms, fractured social structures, and unaddressed grievances, often promote alienation and undermine human security as known factors contributing to the growth of gangs, and new forms of violence, criminality, and social instability. In Latin America, Haiti, Venezuela, El Salvador, and more recently, Ecuador, all serve as sobering reminders of what’s at stake. It’s time that we recognize the risks of ignoring the potentially comparable consequences of non-economic losses from increased climate displacement across the region.

Perfilamiento Racial y Desapariciones

Por Ernesto Castañeda

Julio Enrique Zambrano Pérez y su esposa Luz dejaron Venezuela en 2018 debido a las difíciles condiciones sociales, políticas y económicas. Se trasladaron a Piura, Perú, donde la comunidad les ofreció un terreno, pero fueron objeto de discriminación por su ser venezolanos y luego extorsionados con pagos mensuales que apenas podían costear. Julio trabajaba a tiempo completo en la construcción y, también, como barbero para obtener ingresos extra. Su primera hija nació en Perú, pero por ser blanco del crimen organizado se mudaron a Chile en 2023. Julio trabajaba conduciendo y haciendo entregas, pero sufría asaltos con frecuencia, por lo que, tras ocho meses, decidieron ir hacia el norte.

Julio Enrique Zambrano Pérez ingresó con permiso a Estados Unidos, junto con su esposa e hija, por Matamoros el 30 de noviembre de 2023. Solicitaron asilo y les asignaron números de extranjero y permisos de trabajo.

Después de hablar en la televisión sobre los vuelos que llegaron a El Salvador desde EE. UU. el 15 de marzo de 2025, fui contactado por familiares de Julio Zambrano, preguntándome si tenía alguna idea de dónde podría estar. Él tiene esposa y dos hijas pequeñas en Carlina del Norte. Su hermana también vive en Estados Unidos. Según informan, los hechos son que Julio Enrique Zambrano Pérez, nacido en junio de 2000, fue detenido el 29 de enero de 2025 durante su cita de rutina en la oficina de ICE en Carolina del Norte. Su familia fue liberada, pero él no.

Lo separaron de su esposa embarazada y su hija pequeña y lo mantuvieron detenido debido a tatuajes incluidos uno en su mano con su nombre y una corona genérica. Se hizo el tatuaje cuando tenía solo 15 años. Horas después, el agente de ICE le dijo a su esposa que sospechaban que era miembro de la pandilla Tren de Aragua. Julio nació en Maracay, estado Aragua, Venezuela. Claramente, no todas las personas nacidas en el estado de Aragua son miembros de esta pandilla. Su esposa, hermana, madre y personas de Davidson, Carolina del Norte, afirman que no es miembro del Tren de Aragua ni ha cometido ningún delito. Julio estaba en los Estados Unidos con autorización y permiso de trabajo.

ICE lo trasladó desde la oficina de ICE en Carolina del Norte al Centro de Detención de Stewart en Georgia. Tuvo su primera comparecencia en la corte el 26 de febrero, cuando le negaron la libertad bajo fianza. Su segunda hija nació mientras Julio estaba bajo la detención de ICE y nunca la ha visto en persona. Su próxima cita en la corte de inmigración estaba programada para el 26 de marzo de 2025. Amigos, vecinos y personas de la escuela de su hija escribieron cartas sobre él, destacando que es una persona buena y honorable que trabaja en EE. UU. con un permiso de trabajo, para que pudiera presentarlas en la corte de inmigración. Pero ahora, es poco probable que esta cita se lleve a cabo — y no porque Julio se negara o evitara asistir.

Julio llamó a su familia el sábado 15 de marzo de 2025 a las 8 a.m., informándoles que había escuchado que lo sacarían del país en avión ese mismo día. Durante seis días, no pudimos encontrarlo en las bases de datos de detención. Los agentes en Texas, el último lugar donde estuvo detenido, dijeron que ya no estaba en Estados Unidos pero no dieron más detalles. No hay registros de que esté en Venezuela, por lo que su familia sospechaba que podría ser uno de los enviados a la prisión de máxima seguridad el CECOT en El Salvador o, si no, a Honduras, en un acuerdo similar pero menos discutido en los medios de comunicación. Sin embargo, la familia no lo sabía con certeza. Por eso, es apropiado hablar de desaparición forzada dirigida por el Estado, la violación del debido proceso dentro de Estados Unidos y la expulsión de personas que antes vivían en el país, bajo una débil acusación de pertenencia a una pandilla —convertidos en potenciales terroristas— sin pruebas demostradas en un tribunal.

El jueves 20 de marzo por la tarde, Julio Zambrano Pérez apareció en la lista de personas deportadas a El Salvador, incluyendo no-salvadoreños, que fue compartida por primera vez con el público, así fue que los familiares que no habían reconocido a sus parientes en los video distribuidos como propaganda implícitamente celebrando la “mano dura” de Trump y Bukele.

Julio trabajó en un hotel y luego en un restaurante, preparando comida y lavando platos en Cornelius, Carolina del Norte. Su jefe da testimonio de su trabajo y confirma que nunca tuvo problemas de conducta ni indicios de pertenencia a una pandilla. Julio no tiene antecedentes penales en Venezuela, Perú, Chile ni en Estados Unidos. ICE o el DHS nunca le informaron de lo contrario. Sin embargo, está siendo tratado y castigado como si fuera un criminal peligroso en el CECOT en El Salvador. Se violó el debido proceso, Julio no es terrorista, criminal, ni miembro de ninguna pandilla, EE UU. No esta en guerra con Venezuela por lo que la Ley de Enemigos Extranjeros no aplica. Por todo esto Julio y otros en su situación deben de ser devueltos con sus familias en Estados Unidos, indemnizados y regularizados.

Aunque las personas ya no estén en territorio estadounidense, el gobierno que las expulsó debe ser considerado responsable de su bienestar en el extranjero, así como de haberlas privado de su libertad de manera extralegal e incluso de estar sujetas a trabajo forzado y otras vejaciones. Los reos están bajo custodia del CECOT pero bajo la responsabilidad y pago de EE. UU.

Disappearances Amid Immigration Stops and Profiling

By Ernesto Castañeda

March 21, 2025

After speaking on TV about the flights arriving from the U.S. to El Salvador on March 15, 2025, I was contacted by family members of Julio Zambrano, asking if I had any idea where he could be. He has a wife and two young daughters. His sister also lives in the United States. They report the facts to be that Julio Enrique Zambrano Pérez, born in June 2000, was detained on January 29, 2025, during his check-in appointment at the ICE office in North Carolina. His family was let go, but he was not.

Julio Zambrano working in a kitchen in North Carolina
Julio Zambrano working in a kitchen in North Carolina

They separated him from his pregnant wife and young daughter and held him in detention because of a tattoo on his hand with his name and a generic crown —He got the tattoo when he was only 15. Hours later, the ICE agent told his wife that they suspected he was a member of the Tren de Aragua gang. He was born in Maracay, State of Aragua, Venezuela. Clearly, not all people born in the state of Aragua are members of this gang. His wife, sister, mom, and people from Davidson, North Carolina, affirm that he is not a member of the Tren de Aragua, nor has he committed any crimes. He is in the United States with authorization and has a work permit.

ICE transported him from the ICE office in North Carolina to the Stewart Detention Center in Georgia. He had his first court appearance on February 26 when he was denied being released on bail. His second daughter was born while he was under ICE detention. His next immigration court appointment was set for March 26, 2025. Friends, neighbors, and people from the daughter’s school wrote letters about him being a good, upstanding person working in the U.S. with a work permit so he could present them at the hearing. But now, it will be unlikely to take place  — and not because Julio would skip or refuse to attend the hearing.

He called his family on Saturday, March 15, 2025, at 8 am, letting them know that he had heard they would remove him from the country by plane that day. For six days, we could not find him in the detention databases anymore. Agents at the place where he was last detained in Texas said he was no longer in the United States but would not give more details. There are no records of him being in Venezuela, so his family suspected he was one of those sent to the CECOT high-security prison in El Salvador, or if not to Honduras, in a similar though less covered arrangement. But the family did not know for sure. That is why it is appropriate to talk about state-led disappearance, the violation of due process inside the United States, and the offshoring of people previously living in the U.S. with a weak claim of gang-belonging —turned into potential terrorists— not proven in court.

Even if people are not in U.S. territory anymore, the government that expelled them has to be held responsible for their well-being abroad and for being deprived of their freedom extra-legally and even being subject to forced labor and other vexations. 

On late Thursday, March 20, Julio Zambrano Perez appeared on the list of people deported to El Salvador, including non-Salvadorians, shared then for the first time with the public and family members.

Julio Enrique Zambrano Pérez and his wife Luz left Venezuela in 2018 because of the tough social, political, and economic conditions. They moved to Piura, Peru, where the community gave them some land, but they were targeted as Venezuelans and then extorted for monthly payments, which they could barely pay. Julio worked in construction full-time and as a barber on the side for extra income. Their first daughter was born in Peru, but they were targeted by organized crime, and because of security reasons, they moved to Chile in 2023. Julio would drive and make deliveries, but he would be assaulted often, so after 8 months, they decided to head north. Julio Enrique Zambrano Pérez entered the United States with permission from Matamoros on November 30, 2023, along with his wife and daughter. They applied for asylum and were given alien numbers and work permits. He worked in a hotel and then in a restaurant, preparing food and as a dishwasher in Cornelius, North Carolina. The boss attests to this and shows no disciplinary or conduct issues or hints of gang belonging. Julio has no criminal record in Venezuela, Peru, Chile, or the United States. ICE or DHS never told him otherwise. Nonetheless, he is being treated and punished as if he were a dangerous criminal in the CECOT in El Salvador. 

The Trump administration says Tren de Aragua is a terrorist group – but it’s really a transnational criminal organization. Here’s why the label matters.

By Ernesto Castañeda
Published: April 4, 2025 8:17am EDT

The U.S. State Department declared on Feb. 20, 2025, that the Venezuelan gang Tren de Aragua, as well as some Mexican drug cartels, are now considered foreign terrorist organizations.

Is the new label warranted?

Tren de Aragua is at the center of a controversial immigration case that the Supreme Court is going to consider.

The Trump administration is using the 1798 Alien Enemies Act to justify deporting more than 100 of the 238 Venezuelan and Salvadoran male immigrants it sent to a prison in El Salvador on March 15. The administration says that these immigrants are members of gangs such as Tren de Aragua and are foreign enemies, so they can be sent away with just an order from the White House.

The administration uses a checklist of items, including physical markers like tattoos, to determine these individuals’ association with Tren de Aragua. Although in reality, the Tren de Aragua gang members do not use any specific tattoos.

Family members and lawyers representing some of the Venezuelan immigrants say that they are not actually associated with the gang, and that some of them were living in the U.S. legally.

I am an expert on immigration, and I think it is important to understand why classifying Tren de Aragua as a foreign terrorist organization has sparked debate among observers.

One important reason is that Tren de Aragua is primarily a profit-driven group, not an ideological one – placing the organization more firmly in the transnational organized crime category rather than a political terrorist group.

Venezuelan immigrants deported from the U.S. arrived in El Salvador in March 2025. El Salvador Press Presidency Office/Anadolu via Getty Images
Venezuelan immigrants deported from the U.S. arrived in El Salvador in March 2025. El Salvador Press Presidency Office/Anadolu via Getty Images

Understanding Tren de Aragua

Tren de Aragua originated as a small prison gang in the early 2000s within Tocorón prison in Venezuela’s state of Aragua, located near the country’s capital, Caracas.

Over the past 25 years, Tren de Aragua has expanded rapidly across South and Central America, and evolved into a transnational criminal organization under the leadership of Hector Guerrero Flores. Also known as Niño Guerrero, Flores is a 41-year-old Venezuelan who first served time in Tocorón prison in 2010 for killing a police officer before he escaped for the first time in 2012. His current location is not known.

Flores is wanted by the U.S. and Colombia for various crimes related to expanding the group’s criminal network throughout South and Central America.

Today, an estimated 5,000 people are affiliated with Tren de Aragua, which is mainly focused on human trafficking and other crimes targeting migrants. The gang has also been linked to other criminal organizations in Latin America and is involved with extortion, kidnapping, money laundering and drug smuggling. The number of active members in the United States is in the low hundreds, and clearly the great majority of Venezuelans here are not members.

Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem arrives at the presidential palace in San Salvador, El Salvador, to discuss the deportation of Venezuelan immigrants to the country on March 26, 2025. Alex Brandon-Pool/Getty Images
Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem arrives at the presidential palace in San Salvador, El Salvador, to discuss the deportation of Venezuelan immigrants to the country on March 26, 2025. Alex Brandon-Pool/Getty Images

Different end goals

Tren de Aragua has expanded in part because of its ability to exploit weak governance within the state of Aragua, and eventually across Venezuela, which faces political instability and a weak economy. An expansion beyond Venezuela has allowed the gang to connect with other transnational criminal networks.

Most accepted definitions of terrorism say it is a kind of violence, usually used against civilians, motivated by political and ideological beliefs and goals. Tren de Aragua does not fit that definition. It does not have a political ideology and therefore is not an actual terrorist organization.

The U.S. government considers a foreign terrorist organization a foreign group that engages in terrorist activity, or plans to do so, in a way that threatens the security of U.S. nationals or the country more broadly.

Tren de Aragua is among the eight groups that the State Department first classified as foreign terrorist organizations in the first few months of 2025 after Donald Trump’s inauguration. The other new groups put on the list primarily include Latin American drug trafficking organizations, like the Mexican Sinaloa cartel.

While transnational criminal organizations and foreign terrorist organizations both engage in violence and illicit activities, their end goals are different.

Foreign terrorist organizations such as al-Qaida and the Islamic State group seek political, religious or ideological change – or all three – as they try to use violence to reshape the political landscape of their regions.

Terrorist groups and transnational criminal organizations are not the same

Tren de Aragua, as well as other transnational criminal groups like MS-13 – which originated in Los Angeles but now operates throughout the Americas – and the Sinaloa cartel, carry out illegal, violent activities across borders in order to make money.

These groups do not have political or ideological motives beyond creating conditions to maximize their own profits. They do not aim to take political power in the U.S. or elsewhere, or try to remake society in their own image. That is beyond their purview and capabilities.

Properly distinguishing between terrorist organizations and transnational criminal organizations is crucial for devising effective policies and responses to their violence. Mislabeling these groups can lead to inappropriate responses such as putting aside civil liberties, due process and human rights.

Incorrectly classifying Tren de Aragua and other criminal groups as terrorist organizations could shift U.S. foreign policy and resources toward counterterrorism efforts and away from decreasing the power and violence exercised by organized crime and drug cartels in many parts of Latin America.

However, the way in which many Venezuelans and other immigrants have been deported from the country over the past few months without passing through immigration court seems to indicate that the main rationale for the talk about alien enemies and these terrorist designations is to aid in the goal of mass deportations, rather than to fight domestic or international terrorism.

If the U.S. truly wants to curb undocumented immigration and reduce drug and human trafficking, then I believe that it should ensure that its classification of these organizations is accurate and aligned with its actual objectives.

Melissa Vasquez, a graduate student at American University studying international affairs and the Northern Triangle in Central America, contributed to this piece.

Community Development Financial Institutions as Underappreciated Bridging Institutions for Latino Small Business Success

By Robert Albro, Associate Director, CLALS

March 26, 2025

Latina-owned business in Columbia Heights, Washington DC. Credit: Elizabeth Albro

Building upon its previous research on Latino entrepreneurship, with the generous support of the Wells Fargo Foundation, AU’s Center for Latin American and Latino Studies recently launched a project to assess the effectiveness of community development financial institutions (CDFIs) for Latino small businesses in the DC-metro region. CDFIs provide bespoke financial services and investment capital to underserved communities, and the economic crisis caused by the pandemic highlighted their crucial role as bridging institutions connecting minority small businesses with the resources they needed to stay afloat. But how have CDFIs gone about their work since the pandemic?

Together with our community partner, the Greater Washington Hispanic Chamber of Commerce, we surveyed representatives of CDFIs throughout our region to better understand how they interact with Latino business owners, but also post-pandemic challenges in doing so, as they seek to support this increasingly important community for our region’s economy. Here we report on preliminary results that show how the effectiveness of CDFIs depends upon their greater attention not just to the specific needs of Latino small business owners but also to the social and cultural circumstances, and communities, within which these small businesses operate.

CDFI’s have been a source of inspiration and innovation when it comes to engaging sometimes hard-to-reach minority small business owners. These include pioneering the use of cohort models when providing assistance, as a way to build peer relationships and support a more networked community of minority business owners. They also include the use of equity impact scorecards to help weigh disparities when evaluating eligibility for business loans. They further encompass a more strategic use of microloans and sustained efforts to rethink traditional risk evaluation systems, which have served as barriers to entrance for minority start-ups. But the role of CDFI’s as critical mediators between minority business owners and the formal financial system remains underappreciated.

Latinos are an increasingly important part of the U.S. economy, primarily through business ownership and job creation. They continue to start businesses at a faster rate than any other group, and are projected to be almost a third of business owners by 2050. But, despite comparable liquidity, credit risk and default rates, when compared with counterparts, Latino small businesses encounter more obstacles accessing capital for start-up, growth, and to survive downturns. They are, for example, 60 percent less likely than White-owned businesses to be approved for a bank loan. This disparity is a major contributor to the long-standing racial wealth gap among small business owners in the U.S.

Recent economic disruptions have also highlighted the greater vulnerability of Latino businesses. Less than half of Latino immigrants nationwide have a relationship with a bank. With less access to lending institutions, Latino business owners have relied disproportionately on personal funds, home equity, and informal social networks, leaving them more financially exposed in times of crisis. The Pew Research Center reported that Latino household wealth fell 66 percent as a result of the 2008 Great Recession, the largest decrease among any group.

During Covid-19, Latino business owners struggled to access capital to weather the pandemic. If more likely to seek funds, they were less likely to receive them from private lending sources. The Small Business Administration reported a success rate of 7 percent for Latino-owned businesses who applied to receive Paycheck Protection Program (PPP) funds provided by the federal CARES Act in 2020, compared to 83 percent for White-owned enterprises. In 2021 the Federal Reserve reported that Latino businesses were less than half as likely as White-owned businesses to receive a PPP loan. Such disparities highlight the urgency to understand the factors that continue to limit Latino asset building, and to identify successful alternatives for engaging Latino small businesses.

Overall, survey responses prioritized the bridging function of CDFIs. On the one hand, representatives of CDFIs emphasized the importance of not simply understanding the specific concerns of Latino business owners, but also the need to be actively present “in the community.” This included, as one respondent put it, “hyper local knowledge,” not just about specific industry sectors, socioeconomic status or tax rates, but about extra-financial social contexts impacting Latino business success, such as new immigration policies or incipient gentrification in a given neighborhood.

Being “in the community” encompassed the necessity of meeting business owners “where they are at.” Respondents emphasized strategies of direct personal contact, such as texting over email, the importance of “personal visits” to places of business, providing information in Spanish, access to bilingual financial professionals, use of social media platforms popular with Latinos, and outreach through Spanish-language media. This extended to attending family and other local celebrations, and was about “establishing trust” with a group, Latino small business owners, often suspicious of formal institutions. One takeaway is that CDFIs illustrate the need for lending institutions to adopt a more expansively encompassing approach to culturally informed “community engagement,” as a core competency of their work with minority small businesses.

On the other hand, respondents repeatedly emphasized that throughout the pandemic, and going forward, it has been challenging to make Latino business owners aware of their financial assistance options. For many, this boils down to a pervasive lack of “financial literacy.” Microenterprises and small businesses often do not keep adequate records and do not maintain basic financial management and accounting practices, which make it hard for them to provide the necessary documentation to qualify for grants or loans. Much of what CDFI staff spends their time doing is helping business owners “put their financial house in order.” Overcoming such informality remains a major challenge. If CDFIs are critical conduits connecting Latino small business owners to formal financial institutions, a second takeaway is the need to offer basic financial literacy assistance further upstream, prior to the business start-up phase, perhaps in coordination with immigrant-serving nonprofits and conceived as one among a set of core wraparound services.

This research project highlights the critical role played by CDFIs in connecting Latino small business owners with resources for success, but also bridging informal and formal dimensions of business practice, and often underserved minority communities with local and regional small business ecosystems. In our current environment, where federal funds supporting the work of CDFIs are under threat, it is increasingly important to bring attention to their value.

*The research for this post was made possible by a grant from the Wells Fargo Foundation. We thank Victor Burrola, who leads Wells Fargo’s philanthropy in the Greater Washington DC region, for his support throughout.

Marginalizing Multilingualism: The Impact of Trump’s Order Establishing English as the Official Language of the United States

By Sophia Robinson

Stop sign “English Only”. Image from flicker

On March 1st, 2025, President Trump passed Executive Order 14224 making English the official language of the United States; this decision will undoubtedly have profound societal effects, further marginalizing migrant communities and diminishing multiculturalism in the U.S. By examining this order alongside a summary of “Immigrants Want to, and Do, Learn the Local Language,” Chapter Four of Immigration Realities: Challenging Common Misconceptions by Ernesto Castañeda and Carina Cione, it is possible to see how this action will affect the lives of millions across the U.S.

This Executive Order revokes President Clinton’s 2000 policy requiring language assistance for non-English speakers. Executive Order 13166 (“Improving Access to Services for Persons with Limited English Proficiency”) helped non-native speakers access essential services, including government documents, healthcare forms, and voting materials, and its absence could leave millions without access to these vital resources. The dynamics of language barriers are rooted in both historical and contemporary struggles faced by immigrants in the U.S, and Clinton’s 2000 policy was designed to ensure that non-English speakers could access government services without facing language-based discrimination. Trump’s order frames English as central to a cohesive American identity, which is inherently multifaceted and complex.

Supporters of this recent order argue that designating one language will improve the efficiency of government operations and promote national unity. However, this change can have serious consequences, especially for immigrant communities who rely on translated government materials for essential services. With over 68 million U.S. residents speaking a language other than English at home, Executive Order 14224 threatens to further marginalize a significant portion of the population both through limited required accessibility to government services and further reinforcement of misconceptions about migrants’ desire and ability to learn English.

As Castañeda and Cione’s book highlights, the challenges non-English speakers are far more complex than they appear. Many immigrants, especially those from Latin America, face significant social, economic, and legal barriers to learning English. Even with sufficient economic means, access to language education varies by region and available free time. Discrimination adds another layer of difficulty, with nearly half of Hispanic immigrants feeling judged for their English abilities. As a result of various obstacles, many are left isolated and unable to fully integrate into American society. A policy that systematically and socially upholds English as the only possible standard for success will only worsen these challenges.

Language assimilation is further complicated when considering the gendered challenges of language learning. Immigrant women, particularly in Latino communities, often face more difficulty learning English due to domestic pressures, cultural expectations, and fears of discrimination. This reinforces cycles of economic and social marginalization, as women are often left without the tools to access better opportunities. 

Language barriers can have serious consequences for mental and physical health, leading to stress, isolation, and even misdiagnosis in healthcare settings. It is vital to uphold and validate the multicultural realities of the U.S. in all spaces and having that upheld in government accessibility is a crucial part of inclusion. Lack of support for bilingualism and multicultural identity can lead second and third generation migrants to lose contact with their linguistic and cultural heritage, which has proven to be harmful to community health and well-being. The executive order’s reduction of language assistance programs will only worsen disparities and perpetuate negative perceptions of multilingualism in the U.S.

The implications of Executive Order 14224 are clear: it risks exacerbating the social and economic divides between English-speaking citizens and immigrants. While the goal of national unity is important, the needs of non-English speakers should not be overlooked. If the federal government reduces its support for language assistance, vulnerable immigrant populations will face even greater challenges in accessing essential services, deepening existing inequalities. Policymakers must consider the long-term impact of such decisions on social cohesion and the well-being of all citizens, regardless of language and background.

Sophia Robinson is a Research Assistant at the Center for Latin American & Latino Studies at American University 

Trump Halts Immigration Application for Migrants Welcomed under Biden Administration

By Valeria Chacon

March 4th 2025

USCIS Application Support Center, retrieved from wikimedia

A memorandum was issued on February 14 by  U.S. Citizen and Immigration Services (USCIS) acting Director Andrew Davidson that has effectively paused all pending immigration applications filed by migrants already living in the United States. The USCIS cited fraud and security concerns as the reasons for the halt, and the application freeze will remain in place indefinitely as government officials investigate and identify potential fraud cases

Thousands of Migrants Left in Limbo

Changes announced by the Trump administration directly impact a number of migrants, including from Latin America and the Caribbean as well as Ukraine, who have received legal entry and stay in the United States from categorical parole programs established under the Biden administration. Among them includes beneficiaries under Uniting for Ukraine, created in 2022 to provide Ukrainian citizens fleeing from Russia’s invasion legal entry to the United States. Applicants under the Cuba, Haiti, Nicaragua, Venezuela (CHNV) Parole Program are also affected. Initiated in 2023, this humanitarian parole program allowed nationals from these countries to seek stability and refuge in the U.S. In the first six months of the program, nearly 160,000 Cubans, Haitians, Nicaraguans, and Venezuelans arrived lawfully under this legal process. The latest data from USCIS shows that in December 2024, right before Trump’s inauguration, 27,340 migrants arrived in the United States with parole grants.

Applicants under the Family Reunification Parole (FRP) Program will also be affected. This program was made to reunite eligible individuals from El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Colombia, and Haiti with family in the United as they wait for a family-based green card. It was created, in part, to discourage migrants from making dangerous crossings at the southern border by instead offering a legal migration pathway.

Lastly, those who have pending applications for Temporary Protective Status (TPS) from certain countries, including Haiti, Ukraine, and Venezuela, will also be impacted. The TPS program allows individuals to seek protection in the United States from ongoing armed conflict, environmental disasters, or extraordinary conditions. A TPS designation can be granted in 6, 12, or 18 months increments and recipients will need to re-register to keep their protection. However, Venezuelan and Ukrainian beneficiaries have had their protections extended until October 2025, while Haitian beneficiaries are covered through February 2026. As of March of 2024, there were 863,800 people living in the U.S. with TPS.

Legal Pathways Shut Down, Deportation Risks Rise

The programs previously mentioned provide work permits, travel authorization, protection from deportation, and legal migration channels to individuals from designated countries seeking a better life away from persecution and poverty or to reunite with family members in the U.S. However, under this policy shift, officials will no longer process any pending applications for these programs. Effectively, impeding applicants’ ability to transition to another legal status and making them vulnerable to deportation from the country.

In just his first month in office, President Trump has deported 37,660 people, and this number is expected to rise in the coming months due to the halts on the programs above that leave those already in the U.S. without legal status. It is evident that while Trump aggressively targets undocumented immigrants, he also has little regard for those who arrive under excruciating circumstances through legal migration processes.

Valeria Chacon is a research assistant with the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies at American University in Washington, DC

Edited by Katheryn Olmos, and Ernesto Castañeda

Green, Red, and Gold. I Need Only Blue to Play Uno

By Anthony Sandoval

March 3rd, 2025

The United States is where migrants come for that golden opportunity. To live a better life. To work, to be safe, to get an education. But once one leaves “La Jaula de Oro,” (“The Golden Cage”) they can’t return. All they have might be a green or red card, or maybe no card at all.

The U.S. has a visa program for temporary workers in “specialty occupations” called the H1-B visas. During Trump’s first term, he claimed the H1-B visa program was “very, very, bad for workers” and Suspended the H1-B visa program in 2020. Trump has switched his stance on H1-B visas, claiming “it’s a great program.” After Elon Musk showed his support for H-1B visas, nothing has happened to support  H-1B Visas meaning we might still see the reform that was outlined in Project 2025 to make the program ‘better.’

Other types of visa programs might be affected within the next couple of months, student visas, and visas for survivors of human trafficking and other crimes. Another program that is getting attacked is Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA). All visas get a card and DACA gets a work permit card. Just another card to keep ahold of.

A migrant factory worker from Chicago said, “I have been waiting for my daughter to turn 21 so I can get my green card.” This working migrant applied to the Diversity Immigrant Visa Program (DV) 15 years ago and is still waiting for a Green Card. The DV program is a lottery. In 2023, the DV program had nearly 9.6 million qualified entries and only 50 thousand recipients.

The cost of green cards is already so high, that the filing cost for a family-based green card is approximately 3 thousand dollars for an applicant applying from within the United States. Other categories of green cards may have different costs depending on which one the person is aiming for, not including legal service fees. For DACA it costs $555 to renew online. The most expenses being EB-5 visas, which are for foreign investors that has made investments within the United States around one million dollars and created 10 permanent full-time jobs. For these pathways are not accessible to everyone due to the cost. While some immigrants may not have green cards, visas, or DACA, one thing that they might have are Red Cards ━which can make a difference in whether a person stays in the U.S. or gets deported. Red Cards were made back in 2007 by the Immigrant Legal Resource Center. Red cards are used to protect undocumented immigrants from U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) or U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP). They can come in 19 different languages, including Ukrainian, Spanish, Chinese, Arabic, and Tagalog.

Trump’s “Border Czar,” Tom Homan stated, “For instance, Chicago—very well-educated, they’ve been educated on how to defy ICE, how to hide from ICE.”

On February 25th, President Trump talked about a new type of pathway to citizenship, he calls it a Gold Card. For years, many groups have been asking for an improved way for citizenship or an easier way to come into the United States. The answer was simple: a card that’s worth five million dollars. Ask your friends and family to help cover the cost. It’s that simple… but few people have that type of money. This new card is for investors. The gold card would just replace the EB-5 program.

We don’t need this. Not a 5 million dollar pathway that very few people can pay for. We need another way for citizenship, another way to come into the United States, a faster program that allows people to get green cards and not wait for years. We must remember these people are not “aliens;” they are people. One action that can help is supporting the Dream & Promise Act of 2025 that offers some DACA recipients, immigrant youth, Temporary Protected Status holders, and Deferred Enforced Departure holders a pathway to citizenship.

Anthony Sandoval is a research assistant with the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies and the Immigration Lab at American University in Washington, DC.

Edited by Katheryn Olmos, Ana Gaston, and Ernesto Castañeda,

Balancing Conservation and Extraction: Governance Challenges of Ecuador’s Yasuní-ITT Initiative

By Edgar Aguilar

Gas flaring at oil drilling site on the Napo river, Amazone, Ecuador (image: flicker)

In 2007, Ecuadorian President Rafael Correa launched the Yasuní-ITT Initiative, named after the Ishpingo, Tambococha, and Tiputini oil fields located within Ecuador’s Yasuní National Park in the Amazon. Correa novel proposal was to leave the approximately 846 million barrels of oil in these fields unexploited in exchange for $3.6 billion in international compensation—half the projected revenue from these reserves. This plan aimed to preserve one of the world’s most biodiverse regions and respect indigenous territories while addressing Ecuador’s economic needs. However, contradictions in Correa’s governance—marked by ambitious social spending funded by extractive industries—highlighted the difficulty of reconciling economic development with long-term environmental commitments.

During Correa’s tenure, Ecuador saw a significant increase in public spending, rising from 20 percent of GDP in 2004 to 43 percent in 2014. This expansion was largely financed through renegotiated oil contracts and an increased state share of oil revenues. Social investments, such as doubling government health expenditures from 2006 to 2016, led to substantial improvements in poverty reduction and infrastructure development.

However, this economic model deepened Ecuador’s reliance on oil, which highlighted the problem of directly linking social progress goals to environmentally destructive practices. While Correa promoted the Yasuní-ITT Initiative internationally, Ecuador simultaneously expanded oil exploration elsewhere, such as in the Amazonian blocks outside Yasuní. Oil concessions in the Amazon in 2007 covered 5 million hectares; 4.3 million of them conceded to foreign companies. In 2011 these numbers doubled with the incorporation of 20 more oil blocks. This inconsistency weakened the credibility of the initiative, making it difficult to secure international funding.

From the outset, the initiative faced skepticism. Donor countries were reluctant to provide funds without enforceable guarantees that future Ecuadorian administrations would uphold the agreement. Additionally, the initiative lacked a clear legal framework to ensure that the pledged conservation funds would lead to sustained economic diversification. Consequently, by 2013 the initiative had secured only $116 million in pledges, with a mere $13 million received, falling significantly short of the $3.6 billion target. The global oil market likely also played a role. In 2014 a sharp decline in oil prices significantly impacted Ecuador’s revenues, further reducing the feasibility of keeping Yasuní’s reserves untapped. With mounting fiscal deficits, Correa’s administration abandoned the initiative in 2013, citing insufficient international contributions.

As Yasuní ITT illustrates, Correa’s government struggled to maintain a coherent environmental policy, oscillating between conservation rhetoric and extractive expansion. This eroded trust among both domestic and international stakeholders. While his administration positioned itself as a defender of indigenous rights and nature, its policies often prioritized oil revenues over sustainability.

The abandonment of the initiative’s conservation goals sparked resistance from environmental and indigenous groups, leading to the formation of YASunidos, a coalition of youth activists, environmentalists, and indigenous advocates. Their activism sought to hold the government accountable, culminating in a push for a national referendum. Although the Ecuadorian government initially obstructed these efforts, the movement continued to pressure policymakers for conservation-oriented reforms.

In an August 2023 national referendum, 60 percent of voters supported the cessation of oil drilling in Yasuní National Park. In response to the vote, the government initiated plans to shut down oil operations in the Ishpingo, Tambococha, and Tiputini fields. The Energy Ministry announced the closure of the Ishpingo B-56 well, with the full decommissioning process expected to take over five years and cost more than $1.3 billion. However, concerns have been raised regarding government compliance, since the court mandated that the oil industry infrastructure be dismantled within a year.

The failure of the initiative led to the expansion of oil drilling in Yasuní National Park. Oil extraction has contributed to deforestation, biodiversity loss, and contamination of water sources, threatening endemic species and fragile ecosystems. Indigenous communities have faced territorial encroachment, social displacement, and health crises linked to pollution.

The Yasuní-ITT project illustrates the complexities of balancing economic development with environmental sustainability. Ecuador’s experience highlights the contradictions within populist environmental policies and discourse—where ambitious social programs depend on extractive revenues, ultimately undermining conservation efforts. While the 2023 referendum offers a renewed opportunity for environmental protection, long-term success will depend on sustained public pressure, policy consistency, and international cooperation.

To increase the likelihood of success 1) governments must credibly align environmental with economic policies. Contradictory approaches undermine long-term policy effectiveness. 2) Future conservation-based economic models should incorporate strong institutional safeguards, cross-administration continuity, and financial incentives for long-term compliance. 3) Reducing dependence on oil requires long-term investment in alternative sectors such as renewable energy, ecotourism, and technology.

Edgar Aguilar is a Researcher at the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies and a graduate student in International Economics at American University

Edited by Rob Albro, Associate Director, Research, at the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies

*This post continues an ongoing series, as part of CLALS’s Ecuador Initiative, examining the country’s economic, governance, security, and societal challenges, made possible with generous support from Dr. Maria Donoso Clark, CAS/PhD ’91.