Where Does Refugee Resettlement Stand?

By Reilly Phelan

April 22, 2025

Image from Unsplash
Image from Unsplash

In a world where less than 1% of refugees are ever permanently resettled, the United States has chosen to suspend all refugee admissions indefinitely. The Trump Administration has ordered significant changes to the U.S. refugee resettlement apparatus. The fallout from these executive actions has caused significant turmoil for resettlement agencies and the populations they serve.

The United States Refugee Admissions Program (USRAP) was established in 1980. Since then, including through wartime and the COVID-19 pandemic, the United States has accepted refugees in the wake of international crises and suffering, without fail. That is, until President Trump’s Executive Order “Realigning the United States Refugee Admissions Program.” Asserting that the United States has been “inundated” by immigrants and refugees, the Executive Order issued a 90-day pause on all refugee arrivals. This pause has now been extended to an indefinite suspension of arrivals. 

In the wake of this Executive Order, flights with vetted refugees chosen to be resettled in the United States were canceled, lifelines were abruptly severed, and families were left separated. 

The suspension of USRAP marks a stark juxtaposition not only to the approval designation of 125,000 refugee admissions in 2024 under the Biden Administration but also to the 15,000 approved refugee admissions under Trump’s final year in his first term. The USRAP is a pathway towards safety and stability for families facing persecution and a sometimes decades-long backlog to receive permanent resettlement. 

Ahead of the suspension, 22,000 refugees were “approved for departure” and awaiting their flight to the United States. Refugees with this designation only have a certain amount of time to travel to the United States before they must restart the screening process, which often takes years to complete. These thousands of individuals fleeing violence and turmoil are watching their opportunity for resettlement slip away.

Another sweeping action affecting refugee resettlement in the United States is the January 24th Stop Work Order to programs funded through foreign assistance. While refugee resettlement operates in the United States, much of its international apparatus and funding are tied to foreign aid— namely, the funding that supports refugees in their first 90 days post-arrival. This period in refugee resettlement is called Reception & Placement (R&P). 

R&P funding supports early-resettlement needs, including rental assistance, cultural orientation, and case management. It also subsidizes the salary of refugee staff. Since the Stop Work Order was issued, resettlement agencies could not incur new costs for services under the R&P period. Mass layoffs have become commonplace across U.S. resettlement agencies.

With the indefinite pause of USRAP, the R&P program in the U.S. became obsolete on April 20, as all admitted refugees hit the 90-day mark. However, the consequences of this funding loss will continue far beyond. There is legitimate concern across U.S. resettlement agencies because many refugee clients face housing insecurity and uncertainty surrounding the continuation of benefits like SNAP (food stamps) and Medicaid. 

Image from Unsplash
Image from Unsplash

The actions of the Trump Administration have devastated refugee resettlement. The program’s international infrastructure is currently being dismantled, which, in turn, curtails the possibility of the program’s revival under current or future administrations. On February 26th, President Trump terminated contracts with major U.S. resettlement agencies, marking an attempt to end federal support of refugee resettlement definitively.

The future of refugee resettlement in the United States hangs in the balance of court cases like Pacito v. Trump, which are fighting for the return of both refugee resettlement funding and infrastructure. Through two separate rulings from a Washington District Court, U.S. District Judge Jamal Whitehead enjoined the Trump administration’s suspension of refugee admissions and termination of resettlement agency contracts. No tangible change has resulted from these rulings as the appeals process continues. Judge Whitehead’s Order has been appealed to the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals.

The future of the program is uncertain, but the pain caused to specific refugees and the weakening of refugee resettlement worldwide are clear. 

Reilly Phelan is a Research Assistant for the Immigration Lab. A 2024 American University’s School of International Service graduate, she now works in refugee resettlement.

Edited by Enresto Castañeda, Director of The Immigration Lab

Beyond the ITT Initiative: How Ecuador’s Civil Society Reclaimed the Future of Yasuní

By Edgar Aguilar

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Photo from flickr

The failure of Ecuador’s Yasuní-ITT Initiative in 2013—an internationally recognized proposal to leave oil in the ground in exchange for global compensation—sparked a nationwide civic response. Civil society actors mobilized not only to oppose oil drilling in Yasuní National Park but to redefine what environmental governance could look like in Ecuador’s constitutional context.

Indigenous federations condemned threats to ancestral territory and the rights of uncontacted peoples. Environmental organizations cited Yasuní’s status as one of the most biodiverse regions on Earth. Youth activists framed the issue around climate justice and generational rights. Meanwhile, oil producing communities, local governments and the state oil company defended drilling as a source of critical state revenue and social investment.

In this context, YASunidos was born. Formed in 2013 by a coalition of artists, students, lawyers, environmentalists, and Indigenous youth. YASunidos set out to trigger a national referendum to halt extraction in Block 43. By early 2014 it collected over 756,000 signatures—well above the legal threshold. Yet Ecuador’s National Electoral Council invalidated more than half on technical grounds, effectively blocking the referendum.

Over the next decade, YASunidos evolved. Faced with institutional barriers, the group pursued a multi-pronged strategy: legal challenges in domestic and international courts, cultural campaigns, public education, and transnational alliances. Their demands were anchored in Ecuador’s 2008 Constitution, which enshrines both the Rights of Nature and participatory democracy, a globally unique legal foundation that positioned extraction in Yasuní not only as an environmental threat but as a constitutional violation.

Crucially, YASunidos helped keep the issue in the national spotlight. Even when the media cycle moved on or administrations changed, they maintained public pressure. Through sustained outreach and alliances with indigenous federations, human rights defenders, and global environmental networks, the group broadened its message and constituency. Rather than frame Yasuní as a niche ecological issue, they positioned it as a symbol of the country’s democratic and development crossroads.

That civic pressure paid off. In May 2023, Ecuador’s Constitutional Court approved a binding referendum on oil drilling in Block 43. On August 20, nearly 60 percent of Ecuadorian voters opted to halt extraction, which marked the first time a national electorate democratically voted to leave oil in the ground. The result was globally unprecedented, representing a major step in participatory environmental governance.

Still, the vote revealed important nuances. In oil-producing provinces like Orellana and Sucumbíos, where jobs and infrastructure depend on extraction, a majority voted to continue drilling. These regional differences underscored a key tension: while many voters perceived few benefits from extractive activity despite its costs, others remain economically dependent on it. Civil society’s challenge was—and remains—to articulate a just transition that resonates across these divides.

Following the vote, the Ministry of Energy announced plans to decommission the Ishpingo B-56 well, beginning a phased shutdown of Block 43. The court-mandated timeline requires full dismantling within one year, though the Energy Ministry estimates the process will take five years and cost over $1.3 billion. Whether the state follows through remains uncertain, which makes the ongoing need for civil society oversight critical.

The Yasuní case shows how civil society can do more than resist. It can reshape national debates. YASunidos didn’t just oppose drilling; the coalition reframed it as a matter of constitutionality and democratic participation. By grounding its message in Ecuador’s legal framework and sustaining civic pressure over time, it turned an aborted referendum into a test of the country’s democratic and legal architecture.

The coalition’s success also underscores the value of adaptability. When formal avenues were blocked, YASunidos shifted tactics. They combined litigation, media, and grassroots organizing, without losing focus. Few civic movements sustain relevance over a decade, let alone drive constitutional interpretation and national decision-making. YASunidos did both.

Finally, the decade-long social discourse around Yasuní demonstrates that public debate matters. It was not just a legal battle, but a cultural and moral one about how Ecuador defines development and whose voices count. The 2023 referendum wasn’t the end of that conversation, but a civic milestone in a much longer struggle.

As Ecuador begins to implement the results of the referendum, civil society remains a critical force not only in holding the government accountable but in imagining and advancing alternatives that confront the complex realities on the ground. In many oil-producing regions, communities have received some benefits—such as jobs or infrastructure—but have also shouldered the heaviest environmental and health burdens. The perceived gains have often been limited, unevenly distributed, and insufficient to justify the long-term damage. YASunidos demonstrated that civic engagement can do more than just oppose extractivism. It can defend rights, reframe national debates, and build lasting democratic momentum.

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.

Constitutional Crisis: Donald Trump’s Immigration Policies Put Us All in Danger

By Caryalyn Jean

Photo by Anthony Sandoval
Photo by Anthony Sandoval

President Donald Trump’s executive orders surrounding immigration have sparked fear amongst marginalized groups and controversy amid those who hold America’s policy process dear. On January 20, 2025, Trump signed the Protecting the Meaning and Value of American Citizenship order which proposes the end to birthright citizenship. Although several judges have blocked the order and several other lawsuits have been filed, this specific executive order has caused concerns surrounding the integrity of the Constitution.

One major issue with Trump’s birthright citizenship order is his interpretation of the 14th Amendment. While he recognizes that the 14th amendment was originally intended to extend citizenship to formally enslaved African Americans during Reconstruction, his argument misinterprets the phrase “subject to the jurisdiction of the United States.” In this order, a mother’s and father’s immigration status at the time of birth determines if a federal department or agency can grant or recognized documents recognizing the United States citizenship of their child. However, there is no recent legal precedent supporting the use of a parent’s citizenship status to determine if a person born within the United States is a proper interpretation of the Amendment or any immigration law. Although Trump acknowledges the historical context in which the 14th Amendment was written, his interpretation would not be applicable to historical context Trump is supposedly intending to preserve. Ironically, Trump’s call for a stricter interpretation of the 14th Amendment calls into question how case law has broadened our understanding of how we view citizenship, even for corporations, which the law considers “artificial people” [see Santa Clara Co. v. Southern Pac. Railroad, 188 U.S. 394 (1886); Citizens United v. Federal Election Com’n, 588 U.S. 310 (2010)].

As a result of this Executive Order and many other policies which have led to the recent increase in ICE activity around the nation. President Nayib Bukele of El Salvador proposed a deal with the Trump Administration to allow for the United States to transport both deportees and imprisoned U.S. citizens to El Salvador for a fee. Despite some praise of El Salvador’s President Nayib Bukele’s “tough on crime” approach, this deal raises concerns about the conditions of these prisons. Since 2020, organizations such as Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International have reported on the lack of due process, deaths under custody, and living conditions that are below international standards. Although American immigration law would allow El Salvador to accept deportees in an instance in which a deportee returning to their country of origin is “impracticable, inadvisable, or impossible,” those factors are not the basis of President’s Bukele’s offer. Likewise, the deportation of American citizens in unconstitutional and violates the rights of incarcerated people. Nonetheless, on April 8, 2025, Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt affirmed that President Trump discussed the possibility and legality of deporting American citizens deemed “violent repeat offenders.”

The offer to accept American prisoners further cements the controversial slave status placed upon incarcerated people in the United States and El Salvador. The 13th Amendment abolishes slavery except for punishment for a crime within the United States and territories within its control. This manifests as the use of prison labor in both the public and private sector in exchange for pennies an hour. Similarly, Salvadoran prisoners make use of prison labor through their Cero Ocio program where prisoners were used to renovate schools, hospitals, and police headquarters under the guise of rehabilitation of prisons. Through this deal, El Salvador is on pace to economically benefit from accepting deportees and American prisoners in exchange for a fee as well as potentially increasing their prison labor force in a system reminiscent of slavery.

The relationship between the Trump Administration and El Salvador has already manifested into negative consequences for deportees and documented immigrants. Despite a U.S. District Judge ordering a temporary halt of the deportation of alleged Venezuelan gang members under the Alien Enemies Act, the flight continued anyway. This decision to disregard the order was a move cosigned by President Bukele on his official X account. Furthermore, Kilmar Abrego Garcia, a permanent resident living in Maryland was deported to El Salvador due to an “administrative error” and his return is being delayed due to pending litigation.

Trump’s birthright Executive Order and El Salvador’s proposal should be cause for concern for everyone regardless of immigration or citizenship status. These actions serve as a reminder of the Trump administration’s total disregard for the law and that solidarity is necessary for preserving human rights. Marking undocumented people and incarcerated citizens as undesirable leads us to overlook the harm being done and what is to come if we do not speak out against it.

Caryalyn Jean is a Research Assistant at The Immigration Lab at American University

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

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.

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.