The nation’s immigration courts have undergone a fundamental change under the administration of President Donald Trump. For many immigrants, the courtrooms have also become deportation traps.
The government lawyer knew what was coming as she stood inside a courtroom and texted an Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent waiting in a corridor a few feet away.
“I can’t do this,” the lawyer said in a text message as she looked at her docket of cases. “This is a new emotional load.”
“I understand,” the agent responded. “Hopefully we meet again in a better situation.”
Nearby, a Cuban man who had lived in the United States for years stepped from an elevator and into the courtroom where the government lawyer was waiting for what the man thought was a routine hearing.
The man was doing what the law required, and brought along his wife, a legal resident, and their 7-month-old infant.
Then the lawyer quickly moved to have the man’s asylum claim dismissed and a judge agreed, making the man eligible for “expedited removal.” As he left the courtroom, the man was swarmed by plainclothes immigration agents who had been surveilling him. A struggle ensued and the wife’s shouts could be heard from the hallway as the lawyer moved on to the next case.
The agent replied four minutes later: “Got him.”
Similar scenes of courthouse arrests, part of a makeover of the immigration courts under President Donald Trump, are playing out across the United States as his call for mass deportations of migrants is executed with unusually aggressive tactics.
Trump’s pledge during his 2024 campaign, to impose hardline immigration policies was a major reason he won a second term. Now that Americans have seen how the his plan is being implemented, there are signs that many think he has gone too far. About 57% of adults disapprove of Trump’s handling of immigration, according to a survey this month by The Associated Press-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research.
Over several months, reporters for The Associated Press observed immigration court proceedings in 21 cities. Hearings repeatedly ended with cases dismissed by the government, allowing plainclothes federal agents to carry out arrests in courthouse hallways in close coordination with attorneys from the Department of Homeland Security.
Screenshots of the text messages were obtained by The Associated Press from a government official who feared reprisal and provided them on condition of anonymity. The messages offer a rare look at how the nation’s 75 immigration courts are churning out rulings in an assembly-line like fashion and how, for many people, the courtrooms have become deportation traps. Courthouse arrests coordinated days in advance
In a court system with a backlog of about 3.8 million asylum cases, families have been torn apart and lives upended. Due process seemingly is an afterthought.
“When Americans picture a courtroom, there are a few core expectations” of fairness, dignity and impartiality, said Ashley Tabaddor, a former immigration judge in Los Angeles and past president of the National Association of Immigration Judges.
“That’s what makes a court — not a room with a bench or person with a robe,” she said. “But what we have here is a vision completely turned on its head.”
Over the past nine months, the Trump administration has fired almost 90 immigration judges seen by Trump’s allies as too lenient, directed masked officers to handcuff migrants at closed asylum hearings and sent memos instructing judges to fall into line.
Unlike federal courts, where there are strict rules of procedure and judges have lifetime tenure, the Justice Department runs immigration courts and the attorney general can fire the judges with fewer restraints.
Nine current officials spoke on the condition of anonymity for fear of retaliation. Most expressed deep misgivings about punishing people who had followed the rules and showed up for court hearings.
“As a government attorney, my duty is to uphold the law and protect the public interest — not to secure removal or detention outcomes by default,” a government lawyer wrote to the American Bar Association seeking professional guidance.
But that is not how cases are often unfolding.
Courthouse arrests are coordinated days in advance to meet quotas with little regard for the particulars of a case, according to several of the U.S. officials.
According to one official, Homeland Security lawyers note on a spreadsheet which cases are “amenable” to dismissal, allowing an asylum-seeker to be immediately rearrested and placed in expedited removal proceedings. Most of those detained are men without lawyers who entered the U.S. alone and are expected to appear in court in person. Contrary to Trump’s claims that he is targeting the ‘worst of the worst,’ most don’t have a criminal conviction, according to a Cato Institute analysis of ICE data.
ICE reviews the spreadsheet and selects which people it wants to pursue if cases are dismissed. On the hearing date, federal agents communicate directly with DHS lawyers, who act as prosecutors in immigration courts. The lawyer often provides near verbatim updates of the proceedings over text message to agents waiting outside the courtroom.
“Black shirt? Let me know if the judge dismissed,” an ICE agent texted during one hearing.Lack of independence limits immigration court’s authority
Almost from the outset, immigration courts were plagued by a lack of resources, authority and judicial independence.
The courts were established in 1952, but it was not until 1973 that “special inquiry officers” were given the “judge” title and allowed to wear judicial robes. The Executive Office for Immigration Review, or EOIR, was created in 1983. But that agency remained a part of the Justice Department, giving the attorney general authority to override decisions.
“We were a legal Cinderella,” said Dana Leigh Marks, who retired as an immigration judge in 2021 after a 34-year career. “No other court in the nation functions like this.”
The first Trump administration undertook a series of changes to reduce the case backlog, including instructing judges to deny entire categories of asylum claims such as for victims of gang or domestic violence.
It also set up a dashboard that would become the bane of many judges: Red, yellow and green gauges measure each judge’s performance on goals ranging from completed cases — a minimum of 700 annually, regardless of complexity — to how many custody cases were decided on their first hearings.
