You can say a lot of things about the Trump administration’s immigration policy. But “legal” sure as hell isn’t one of them.
Let’s talk about Kilmar Abrego Garcia—a man with a Green Card, living in Maryland, protected by an immigration judge’s 2019 ruling that barred his deportation to El Salvador. The reason? He could be targeted by gangs there. The court agreed. The law backed him. His paperwork was in order.
And then one day, U.S. agents snatched him up anyway. Shackled him. Put him on a plane. And dumped him in a Salvadoran prison that human rights groups wouldn’t wish on a war criminal.
Not because of a new ruling. Not because of new evidence. But because someone—somewhere in the machinery of this administration—decided the law didn’t matter.
This wasn’t a clerical error. It was a state-sponsored kidnapping with an American flag on it.
And what does President Bukele of El Salvador say when the U.S. asks for Garcia back after the Supreme Court rules his deportation was illegal?
“What do you want me to do, smuggle him in?”
No, Mr. President. We want you to do what our government didn’t: follow the law.
Bukele then calls Garcia a terrorist—though the man has never been charged with a crime in either country. That’s right. Not indicted. Not convicted. Nothing. Just a green card holder with a court order protecting him.
Let’s say that again for the people in the back:
Kilmar Garcia has no criminal record.
He had legal protection.
And we deported him anyway.
The U.S. Supreme Court—no stranger to immigration hardball—stepped in and said, “This is illegal.” They ordered the administration to “facilitate” his return.
But instead of sending diplomats or making calls, we sent a press release and shrugged.
This isn’t a policy failure. It’s a full-blown moral collapse. It’s what happens when the Constitution is treated like a bumper sticker and the Department of Justice acts like an off-book security firm.
It’s also not new. This administration has been playing fast and loose with immigration law like it’s a poker hand in a backroom bar. Only now, they’re not just bluffing—they’re burning the cards.
Here’s the real story behind the story: If you have brown skin and a last name like Garcia, your paperwork doesn’t matter. Your legal status doesn’t matter. Your court orders? They’re optional. You’re living in a country where law enforcement is increasingly detached from law itself.
This isn’t about national security. This is about national selectivity—where justice depends on who you are, who you know, and whether your case fits the narrative.
And make no mistake: if this administration can disappear a legal permanent resident, toss him across a border, and ignore the Supreme Court—what’s next?
We don’t have to wonder.
The White House has already said it’s exploring ways to deport U.S.-born citizens.
Yes, you read that right. American citizens. Born here. Raised here. Protected under the Constitution.
And yet, someone behind a desk in Washington thinks that’s now up for review.
How?
By dusting off The Alien Enemies Act of 1798—a law that gives the president sweeping power to detain or deport anyone he deems “dangerous.” It was used to justify the internment of Japanese Americans. Now it’s being repackaged for the 21st century—paired with biometric surveillance, unchecked executive power, and a political climate ready to turn neighbors into suspects.
When asked whether U.S.-born citizens could be targeted, Trump didn’t flinch:
“Yeah, that includes them. You think they’re a special type of people or something?”
That quote would’ve been a red line in any other era. Today, it’s campaign rhetoric.
And now, it’s more than words.
A U.S.-born attorney just received a letter from the Department of Homeland Security stating she had seven days to leave the country or face prosecution. No hearing. No explanation. The letter simply read:
“It is time for you to leave the United States.”
Let that sink in.
I remember a conversation from my La Prensa San Diego days. I was talking with my publisher, Dan Muñoz Sr., during the firestorm over Proposition 187. He said something that stuck with me:
“There will come a time when even Mexican Americans—U.S.-born—will be shipped out in railroad cars to Mexico.”
At the time, it felt like a grim prediction.
Today, it sounds like a government memo.
Kilmar Garcia isn’t just one man trapped in a foreign prison.
He’s a test case. A warning.
And so is this attorney.
This is no longer a theory. It’s a process. A policy. A purge in slow motion.
If we don’t draw the line here, the line moves.
And it moves straight through the Constitution.
Because if they can tell a citizen:
“It is time for you to leave the United States”…
then no one’s status is safe.
And the next Garcia, the next target, could be you.