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
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 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.
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.
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
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.
While transnational criminal organizations and foreign terrorist organizations both engage in violence and illicit activities, their end goals are different.
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.
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.
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
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 Chaconis a research assistant with the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies at American University in Washington, DC
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.
Photo of the front and back of a Red Card by Anthony Sandoval
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,
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.
Image of Welcome to Florida: The Sunshine State sign retrieved from Flikr
The atmosphere is so thick in Florida, you could cut it with a knife. Immigrants feel like they cannot catch a breath. As one immigrant told me, “every day there is something new.” Imagine having to check a map of zones to avoid every time you want to go outside, commuting further away from home to shop for groceries, having to refrain from speaking your native language in public, or avoiding going out to get coffee with a friend to lower the risk of encountering ICE raids or deportation. Living in constant fear, paranoia, and mistrust is no way to live.
State patrols will sit along highways to spot white working vans. In one case, a construction worker was pulled over in his working white van one evening at the end of January because his headlights were “too opaque.” The police officer asked him, “How long have you been in the U.S.?” to which the worker replied, “Over 20 years.” Then the officer gives him a ticket for driving without a license and tells him to go on with his day.
Shortly after the incident, Florida Governor Ron Desantis announced that he would enforce Section 287(g) of the Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act of 1996. Therefore, the Florida Highway Safety and Motor Vehicles (FLHSMV) will join forces with the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). Through this partnership, ICE authorizes the Florida Highway Patrol to arrest and detain undocumented immigrants. State troopers will now ask individuals about their immigration status on day-to-day traffic stops. Additionally, state troopers are authorized to detain those suspected to be undocumented, regardless of their actual immigration status. This would completely dismiss the notion of “innocent until proven guilty,” leading to racial profiling of Latino drivers and causing fear among Florida residents. Florida residents have seen an increase in law enforcement. Latinos are more frequently reporting seeing people they know stopped and detained by law enforcement. It feels that this policy is only targeting the brown and immigrant community in Florida.
As Florida faces various problems, including the housing crisis, high home and auto insurance premiums, environmental crisis, and idle hurricane impacts, Desantis believes the so-called “immigration crisis” is the biggest issue at hand. On February 13, Desantis signed the “toughest immigration law in the country.” With this legislation, Desantis will allocate $298 million for detaining and deporting immigrants and increase the penalty for crimes committed by immigrants, including requiring the death penalty for undocumented immigrants who commit capital crimes. Additionally, Desantis is creating a new crime of entering the state of Florida as an undocumented person on top of the already existing federal crime of entering the U.S. through an irregular pathway.
There has been an increase in people moving in from out-of-state, including former residents of New York, California, and New Jersey. Many of them are moving to a state where their out-of-state wages for remote work or social security payments get them further, and the politics better align with their conservative beliefs. The changing demographics and anti-immigrant politics in Florida have also been creating a hostile environment for immigrant Floridians.
While Florida is experiencing an increase in residents from out of state, there is also an increase in immigrant residents moving to safer places out of state. Fleeing persecution is a recurring theme for immigrants; they often find themselves in a state of movement and fear while hoping to one day achieve the American Dream. Those who have lived in Florida for many years, even decades, face significant challenges when it comes to leaving their homes. Many immigrants who have established homes, businesses, children, and pets would prefer to remain in Florida. Immigrants who have built lives in Florida or lack the financial resources to leave are modifying their social and economic behaviors out of fear of deportation.
Florida is already witnessing the impact of migrants no longer participating in their social and economic atmosphere. Businesses that rely on Latino consumers are feeling this impact. Restaurants and other franchises that tend to be busy on weekend nights are empty. Rosy, a frequenter of Jacksonville, Florida’s Latino nightlife, says local Latino bar and club events are practically empty. She states that Latino clubs that always had long wait times to enter now have no lines.
Construction work is down due to high interest rates, weather conditions, and labor shortages. Despite Desantis’ push for mass deportations to solve the housing crisis in Florida, we need immigrants to solve the housing crisis in Florida. On February 20, 6 Mexican workers were detained at a gas station on Southside Blvd. in Jacksonville, Florida. Every day more and more innocent Latinos are detained by ICE. Instilling fear against our most vulnerable yet essential members of the community is not the solution to any of the state’s problems
Katheryn Olmos is a Research Assistant at the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies and a graduate student at the Sociology Research and Practice program at American University.
Edited byErnesto Castañeda, Director, and Emma Wyler, Wilfredo Flores, intern at the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies and the Immigration Lab.
Are MS-13, M-18, and Tren de Aragua terrorist organizations? The short answer is no, they are not. They are transnational criminal organizations. El Salvador’s President Bukele and Donald Trump have officially labeled these groups as terrorist organizations, citing their extreme violence and control over some territories. However, these classifications have sparked debate, as their activities are more aligned with organized crime than political terrorism. Making this distinction is crucial given that mislabeling them can lead to misguided policies that fail at curbing their violence.
The 1980s civil wars in Central America forced nearly a million people to flee the U.S. Some immigrants are still forced to leave their countries because of organized crime and gang recruitment. Today most often, some displaced people are victims of gangs, not members or representatives abroad. However, upon originally arriving in Los Angeles, many Central American migrants faced marginalization and sought protection from the gangs present in the areas where they lived and worked. These challenges ultimately contributed to the formation of the present-day MS-13 and M-18 gangs. Many of the members of these new local gangs were incarcerated in Los Angeles prisons alongside members of other gangs, which allowed them to regroup and learn from their rivals. Shortly after the wars, mass deportations from prisons and streets sent MS-13 and M-18 members back to a weakened Central America, where they expanded their networks and influence.
Similarly, El Tren de Aragua (TdR), which originated in the early 2000s in Venezuelan prisons—particularly the Tocorón prison—has expanded across South America. Originally, a prison gang, Tren de Aragua, expanded beyond prison walls to exploit weak governance, connecting criminal networks across South and North America. Furthermore, like MS-13 and M-18, Tren de Aragua is driven by criminal enterprising rather than political ideology. That is, neither group aims to take over state power or remake society in their own image. Rather, they are hyper-focused on generating maximum profits through illicit means while avoiding state interference. They are criminal syndicates with some capacity—though quite limited—to carry out their rackets across borders. They are certainly NOT terrorist entities.
What separates a terrorist organization from a criminal syndicate? While both engage in illicit activities and use violence as a means to an end, it is crucial to distinguish their goals and methods to dismantle them effectively. The primary difference lies in their objectives: terrorist organizations seek political, religious, or ideological change by influencing government policies or societal structures, whereas transnational criminal organizations (TCOs) operate across borders solely for financial gain, without political or ideological motives beyond sowing conditions to maximize profit.
For example, the U.S. government has classified groups like Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia(FARC) and ISIS as terrorist organizations due to their political objectives. FARCS’s history dates back to 1964 when it emerged as a communist insurgency that employed terrorist tactics. Initially formed as a guerilla movement from campesino self-defense groups, whose primary objective was to overthrow the Colombian government. Over the next five decades, FARC waged guerilla warfare by carrying out illicit activities—such as bombing, kidnappings, and assassinations–all in an effort to challenge state authority. Colombia, the U.S., and the European Union designated FARC as a terrorist organization due to their use of political violence.
However, the 2016 peace accords between FARC and the Colombian government led to the successful disarmament. This agreement allowed the group to transition into a political party known as Comunes. Even though some dissident factions still operate, FARC’s official transformation has been a key factor in maintaining long-term stability in Colombia. Recognizing this shift has been crucial in fostering peace and ensuring that former combatants can engage in democratic processes rather than armed conflict.
The contrast between ISIS and FARC highlights the importance of proper classification. FARC has abandoned the characteristics that once classified it as a terrorist organization and instead has evolved into a political entity. ISIS, on the other hand, remains committed to its extremist and political ideology, seeking to overthrow governments through guerrilla warfare and establish a global Islamic caliphate through territorial control and sectarian violence. Addressing the causes behind these organizations is equally crucial. FARC’s transition has allowed Colombia to tackle the drivers that led to its rise in the first place, providing the foundation for long-term stability. When governments misdiagnose the factors driving their emergence, violence continues.
Despite claims that Tren de Aragua serves the Maduro regime, evidence suggests otherwise. The group arose from Venezuela’s weak governance and not from direct state sponsorship. According to Insight Crime, in September 2023, Venezuelan law enforcement raided the Tocorón prison in Aragua state, aiming to “dismantle and put an end to organized crime gangs and other criminal networks operating from the Tocorón Penitentiary.” This operation demonstrates that Tren de Aragua is not a state-sponsored group, nor is it a tool being used by the Venezuelan state to destabilize the region. Its rise—like that of MS-13 and M-18—can be traced back to systemic failures, including poverty, corruption, and forced population displacement. These factors have allowed transnational criminal organizations to flourish across Latin America.
MS-13 and M-18 expanded by exploiting political corruption and institutional weakness in their home countries. Similarly, Tren de Aragua has taken advantage of Venezuela’s economic crises and large emigration to expand into new territories, such as the Darién Gap. Unlike terrorist organizations, these gangs did not emerge to push a political ideology; rather, they have thrived by leveraging corruption and weak law enforcement. In many ways, they are products of the environments that fostered them, growing out of instability rather than ideological ambition. These transnational criminal groups do not engage in violent attacks abroad, targeting governments or aiming to take political power in the United States. That is beyond their purview and capabilities.
Why does the distinction between organized crime and terrorist organizations matter? Although all of these organizations engage in violence and illicit activities, their end goals set them apart: MS-13, M-18, and Tren de Aragua operate for profit, whereas ISIS and others seek to reshape the political landscape of their regions. Properly distinguishing between terrorist organizations and transnational criminal organizations like MS-13, M-18, and Tren de Aragua is crucial for drafting effective policies and responses to their violence. Mislabeling these groups can lead to inappropriate responses. Applying counterterrorism measures to profit-driven gangs fails to address the root causes for their expansion in the first place. Failing to properly distinguish organized crime from political terrorists leads to failed policies. The misclassification of these groups could destabilize the region by shifting U.S. foreign policy and resources away from where it is truly needed—addressing the drivers of gang-related violence, corruption, and weak governance—toward counterterrorism efforts.
While transnational criminal organizations are heavily involved in drug trafficking, and their violence may create fear among civilians and impact governance, this does not qualify them as terrorist organizations. Their primary objective is financial gain, not advancing an ideological or political agenda. This distinction matters because government responses shape outcomes. If the goal is to curb migration, drug trafficking, or violence, then we need to stop treating criminal organizations like terrorist groups and start addressing the real issues driving their expansion. If the U.S. truly wants to curb migration and secure the southern border, then it must ensure that its classification of these organizations is accurate and aligned with its actual objectives.
Melissa Vasquez is a Graduate Student in the International Affairs and Policy Analysis program at American University and an Intern at the Immigrant Lab.
Ernesto Castañeda is the Director of the Immigration Lab and the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies and a Professor at American University
Anthony Fontes is an Associate Professor and ethnographer at American University’s School of International Service.
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Days after federal corruption charges against him were dropped, Mayor Eric Adams appears poised to open New York City to President Trump’s mass deportation agenda in what Manhattan’s federal attorney described as a “quid pro quo”. Mr. Adams’ posturing has hinted at this for some time: the mayor has framed the recent influx of asylum-seeking migrants as an economic burden that “will destroy New York City.” “The long-term consequences have yet to materialize of what this crisis will do to our cities,” he told Tucker Carlson on January 22nd.
After crunching the numbers, we agree with Mr. Adams: New York City is just beginning to reap the benefits of this influx of hardworking people. We conservatively estimate that, if their earnings and employment rates are similar to the current undocumented population, the 316,000 asylum seekers who have come here since 2022 will contribute $8.62 billion annually to the city’s economy, a figure greater than the GDP of forty countries. Much of this economic activity will flow to public coffers: the asylum seeker population is projected to pay $942 million more in taxes than they receive in benefits each year. If ICE is allowed to wreak havoc on New York City, all these benefits will be lost.
This is not particularly surprising. Previous waves of immigrants have similarly fled desperate situations, arrived with limited resources, faced nativist backlash, and still become vital contributors to the city’s economy and culture. There’s no reason to believe today’s newcomers should be any different. With New York’s US-born population declining and demand for workers growing fastest in the industries most reliant on immigrant labor, they are arriving at an opportune time.
It’s true that New York City has spent substantial amounts on services for asylum seekers: a combined $5.2 billion in fiscal years 2023 and 2024, with another $4.5 billion budgeted for FY2025. These costs doubtless been have been inflated by Adams’ “emergency” decision to suspend background checks and competitive bidding requirements for contractors providing such services. The Comptroller’s investigation found several egregious examples of overpayment. One contractor received $117/hour for security guards and $201/hour for off-site managers. Despite this waste, spending on asylum seekers made up just 4.2% of the FY2025 budget.
Most importantly, these costs are not the product of an “open border.” Immigrants have been coming to New York City via the border for decades. In fact, the city’s undocumented population was 611,000 in 2012 and fell to 412,000 by 2022. Nor is the scale of the current influx unusual in recent times–during the 1990s, the city’s foreign-born population grew at a higher annual rate than it has during the 2020s.
Each wave of immigration to New York City has been beneficial to both the immigrants themselves and their adopted city. The only difference today is that arcane policies have forced both sides to make major upfront investments before they begin to enjoy those mutual benefits.
Before claiming asylum, people must physically come to the US. For nearly all the asylum seekers we spoke with as part of our ongoing study, this involved taking on substantial debt to finance a deadly, months-long overland journey. This debt can be a major obstacle as people try to establish themselves in New York.
In 2023, John borrowed nearly $30,000 to bring his family of five from Ecuador to the US border. A mechanic by trade, he quickly found work repairing e-bikes at a workshop in Queens, earning $1,200 a week. Yet over half of each paycheck goes to repaying his creditors back home (who have threatened to kill his parents should he miss a payment), leaving him unable to afford rent and trapping his family in the shelter system. He says he’ll have paid off enough debt to move to an apartment in New Jersey in three months.
Lacking a sponsor in the US, crossing the border was John’s only way to come here. Leave aside, for a moment, your beliefs about whether doing so was morally correct. The fact is, he’s here and contributing to our economy. Had he been able to come directly from Quito to New York, his spending power would be going to New York businesses instead of human smugglers.
Another problem: after applying for asylum, people must wait 180 days before receiving a work permit. Unless they have connections to support them, this effectively forces people to live off the state for six months. In practice, our conversations have made clear, it’s often much longer. In 2023, New York City began limiting stays in any one shelter to 60 days, forcing people to shuffle between different facilities. Many migrants are not informed that failing to report this change of address to USCIS within 10 days is a misdemeanor and can delay or derail their ability to get documents.
The experience of Carlos, who we spoke to outside a Manhattan shelter, exemplifies the bureaucratic absurdities that hold migrants back. Bused to NYC in late 2023 as part of Operation Lone Star, he immediately applied for asylum, citing political persecution in Venezuela. While waiting for his work permit, he has bounced between different shelters and worked temporary construction and moving gigs. He says his lack of documentation allowed these employers to exploit him, frequently not paying him in full.
Carlos told us a relative in Oklahoma has found him a job in trucking, his original profession. “The moment my papers arrive, I’m going to Oklahoma,” he says. “They’re waiting on me.” He was supposed to get his work permit months ago but had to restart the process when his address changed. He was most recently told his papers should arrive in 90 days.
The absurdity is infuriating. Due to decades-old laws, people itching to work linger in shelters against their wishes and at great financial cost, while crucial jobs across the country remain unfilled. The Independent Budget Office estimates the cost of missed work authorizations for asylum seekers at up to $1 billion in 2024 alone.
Even so, with US-born workers rapidly aging, rising immigration has done much to ease post-pandemic labor shortages, helping reduce inflation while maintaining economic growth. And asylum seekers are quietly integrating into the city’s economy. Of the 225,000 migrants who have passed through the shelter system, over 170,000 (77%) have moved out, and the number remaining in city care continues to dwindle.
Many interviewees, having recently gotten their work permits and found jobs after a long ordeal, expressed excitement to begin living independently and working towards the various dreams that kept them going through sweltering jungles and deserts. As asylum seekers increasingly fill the jobs that keep New York’s service-based economy moving, the investments made by both sides finally appear to be paying off. For deportations to derail asylum seekers’ budding lives as New Yorkers would be a human tragedy and an economic catastrophe
Marshall Plane is a Research Assistant at The Immigration Lab.
Ernesto Castañeda is the Director of the Immigration Lab and the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies and a Professor at American University.
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