Venezuelan Families Fear for Loved Ones Amid Trump’s Deportation Celebrations

Families in Turmoil as U.S. Deports Venezuelans to El Salvador Amid Controversy

In a shocking turn of events, Mirelis Casique, a mother from Venezuela, last communicated with her 24-year-old son, Francisco Javier García Casique, while he was in a detention center in Laredo, Texas. On Saturday morning, she heard the devastating news that he would be deported along with a group of Venezuelans, though he remained unaware of their destination. Shortly after that conversation, his name vanished from the online roster maintained by U.S. immigration authorities. Since then, Ms. Casique has been left in anguish, fearing for her son’s safety and well-being.

In an emotional interview conducted from her home in Venezuela, Ms. Casique lamented, “Now he’s in an abyss with no one to rescue him.” The deportation of 238 Venezuelans to El Salvador this past weekend has sent ripples of panic among families who are concerned their loved ones may have been unjustly deported without proper legal procedures. Reports suggest that the Venezuelan migrants were handed over by the Trump administration to Salvadoran authorities, raising significant alarm about the lack of due process.

White House spokeswoman Karoline Leavitt labeled the men being deported as “terrorists” affiliated with the Tren de Aragua gang—describing them as “heinous monsters.” However, relatives of those believed to be in the group have voiced their concerns, claiming that their loved ones have no connections to criminal gangs. This assertion casts doubt on the government’s narrative, complicating an already tense situation.

On Sunday, the Salvadoran government showcased images of the deported individuals being escorted into a notorious mega-prison in handcuffs, with their heads recently shaved, igniting further outrage among those with family members among the deportees. Ms. Casique asserts that she recognized her son in one of the photographs shared by the Salvadoran government. Despite the anguish this recognition brought her, she felt utterly powerless—she stated she felt "broken at the injustice" of it all.

Unfortunately, neither the U.S. nor the Salvadoran government has disclosed the identities of the deported Venezuelans. Efforts to confirm whether Ms. Casique’s son was among those deported have been futile, as both governments have remained reticent. A spokesperson for the Salvadoran government has not responded to requests for confirmation regarding Mr. García’s status, nor has the Department of Homeland Security promptly addressed queries about his deportation.

Ms. Casique described how she identified Mr. García by recognizable tattoos on his arms, in addition to his physique and complexion, as his face was obscured in the photograph. The newly released images show a group of men in white shirts and shorts with their hands restrained behind their backs, adding to the chilling nature of the situation.

On Sunday, the Venezuelan government vehemently condemned the transfer of its citizens to El Salvador, arguing in a statement that the United States employed an outdated law—the Alien Enemies Act of 1798— to orchestrate an illegal operation that infringed upon both American and international legal standards. This assertion underscores a rift between the two nations concerning immigration policies and human rights.

In a bid to combat illegal immigration, the Trump administration has increasingly spotlighted the Tren de Aragua gang and its alleged infiltration within the United States. During a previous mass deportation operation that saw Venezuelans sent to Guantánamo Bay, the government claimed those deported were gang members, a contention disputed by many family members of the deportees.

Despite the claims made by the U.S. government, no concrete evidence has been offered to substantiate assertions of the migrants’ connections to Tren de Aragua. This gang, which originated in Venezuelan prisons, now wields influence across Latin America. President Trump characterized the gang as a terrorist organization and has often used anecdotes to demonstrate their supposed operations within U.S. borders.

Moreover, Salvadoran President Nayib Bukele announced that those deported would be detained for at least one year, during which they will be compelled to work and participate in workshops under a program dubbed “Zero Idleness.” This program raises further concerns among families, as it seemingly sets a precedent for the treatment of deportees.

According to Ms. Casique, her son had no affiliations with gangs. He had entered the U.S. seeking asylum in late 2023 after working for years in Peru to support his family back in Venezuela. Tragically, during his journey north, he sustained injuries after falling from a train while in Mexico. After voluntarily turning himself in to U.S. authorities at the border, Mr. García faced detention during a routine check when his tattoos drew attention.

The tattoos, which Ms. Casique claims are innocent in nature—bearing messages of peace and names of his family members—led to suspicions that he was connected to the Tren de Aragua gang. After spending two months in a Dallas detention center, a judge eventually ruled that Mr. García posed no danger and was allowed to go free, albeit under strict electronic monitoring.

Despite initially feeling reassured by claims made by the administration that it would focus on deporting criminals, Ms. Casique felt her perspective was naïve. On February 6, family members were left horrified when U.S. authorities came to his home and took him into custody. “I told him to follow the country’s rules, that he wasn’t a criminal, and at most they would deport him,” recalled Ms. Casique.

The story of Francisco Javier García Casique and the plight of Venezuelan deportees starkly illustrate the ongoing challenges faced by migrants, drawing attention to the complexities of immigration policies, human rights concerns, and family separations. As families like Ms. Casique’s await news, the future remains uncertain for many who find themselves caught in this web of legal and moral dilemmas.