The Feds' Legal Arguments for These Deportations Are Laughably Weak
A Trump administration official admits that there is little specific evidence tying some deportees to any crime—and argues that the lack of evidence should be taken as proof of criminality.
The Trump administration maintains that more than 200 people deported last weekend to a prison in El Salvador were criminals with ties to a dangerous Venezuelan gang.
But legal documents filed in federal court as part of the government's attempt to clarify the legal basis for those deportations seem to raise more questions than they answer—and indicate that some, if not many, of the deportees were not the threats that Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) claims they are.
In some cases, those individuals were deported simply for being in the same car or house as other suspects. In others, a Trump administration official admits that there is little specific evidence tying some deportees to any crime—and then, incredibly, argues that the lack of evidence should be taken as proof of criminality.
"The lack of a criminal record does not indicate they pose a limited threat," wrote Robert L. Cerna, an acting field office director for ICE, in a sworn affidavit filed in federal district court in Washington, D.C., on Monday night. Cerna goes on to write that "the lack of specific information about each individual actually highlights the risk they pose. It demonstrates that they are terrorists with regard to whom we lack a complete profile."
That's a laughably weak argument. Cerna is arguing that the Trump administration has the power to deport any immigrant suspected of having ties to the Tren de Aragua gang, even if the evidence is thin and never proven in any court.
Imagine siting on a jury and being told by the prosecution that there would be no evidence presented of any crimes being committed, but that you should simply take the prosecutors' word that the suspect seems like a bad guy. Any reasonable juror would vote to acquit—if the judge didn't laugh the prosecutors out of court first.
Or simply flip the argument around. Would Cerna take evidence of criminality as proof that someone was not a criminal? Of course not.
No wonder the Trump administration was in such a rush to bypass due process for these deportations.
To be fair, the affidavit also contains enough details of crimes committed by Tren de Aragua gang members to conclude that at least some of those deported over the weekend probably got what they deserved. That doesn't excuse the rushed, unlawful process—if anything, it should only stress the importance of due process as a way to sort out the real threats from everyone else.
Instead, Cerna's affidavit paints the picture of a Trump administration and ICE management that were determined to deport as many people as possible, no matter how tenuous the connection to Tren de Aragua or any crime.
Near the end, Cerna notes that some of the suspects arrested and deported by ICE were simply caught up in the immigration dragnet because they happened to be near other of ICE's targets.
"According to a review of ICE databases, numerous individuals removed were arrested together as part of federal gang operations, including two individuals who were in a vehicle during a Federal Bureau of Investigations gun bust with known [Tren de Aragua] members; four individuals who were arrested during the execution of an Homeland Security Investigations New York City operation; and four individuals who were encountered during the execution of an arrest warrant targeting [Tren de Aragua] gang member, all of whom were in a residence with a firearm and attempted to flee out the back of the residence," he writes.
Could those individuals have been engaged in some sort of illegal activity with known gang members when they were apprehended? Sure. But that's exactly the point of immigration courts and the criminal justice system: to sort out those tricky questions before someone is locked up, deported, or both.
The logic on display in Cerna's affidavit is fundamentally at odds with due process or any sense of limited executive powers when it comes to prosecuting crimes. It runs counter to President Donald Trump's own campaign promises about restoring law and order. It is, in short, the sort of thing that only the most committed bootlicker could even attempt to stomach.
