Kilmar Abrego Garcia faces an uncertain future as he fights U.S. efforts to deport him. The Trump administration wants to send him to Eswatini, while Garcia seeks asylum to remain in the country. Both paths could take years through the immigration and legal system.
Garcia, 30, first drew attention when he was wrongly deported to El Salvador. The government accused him of gang ties to MS-13, claims he denies and was never charged with. After being sent back to the U.S. in June, Garcia now faces human smuggling charges. His lawyers have called the case vindictive and without merit.
Garcia was released from a Tennessee jail last month to await trial. Just three days later, he was taken into immigration custody and remains in a Virginia detention center.
The administration proposed sending Garcia to Eswatini because U.S. law prevents deportation to El Salvador. Garcia fled El Salvador around 2011 after local gangs threatened and extorted him and his family. He settled in Maryland without documentation to join his U.S. citizen brother.
In 2019, Garcia was looking for day labor outside a Home Depot when a confidential informant told police that he and others were MS-13 members based on their clothing and tattoos. Garcia was never charged but was turned over to Immigration and Customs Enforcement.
Garcia applied for asylum, but his request was initially denied because it came over a year after entering the U.S. Still, an immigration judge later granted him protection from deportation to El Salvador, citing a credible fear of gang persecution.
During the early days of Trump’s second term, ICE deported Garcia to a notorious prison in El Salvador, violating the judge’s order. The Supreme Court later mandated his return to the U.S., though he was charged with human smuggling.
Last month, the administration initially aimed to deport him to Uganda. Garcia expressed fears of persecution or transfer back to El Salvador. The government now plans to send him to Eswatini, calling his fears “hard to take seriously” given his claims of danger in 22 countries.
Deportation to a non-native country involves multiple legal steps. Garcia must undergo a “reasonable fear” interview to explain why he fears persecution. If the officer disagrees, he can appeal to an immigration judge and, if necessary, the Board of Immigration Appeals.
Trump has been removing immigration judges, many appointed by President Biden, as part of his immigration crackdown. Still, Garcia can contest appeals in federal courts, which remain independent from the administration.
Memphis attorney Andrew Rankin warns that even if Garcia blocks deportation to Eswatini, the government may try to send him to other countries. Applying for asylum could redirect focus solely to El Salvador, where he has already shown credible fear of gang violence.
Garcia has filed a motion to reopen his 2019 case and apply for asylum. Lawyers argue he qualifies since he has been in the U.S. less than a year. Success could lead to a green card and eventual citizenship. However, failure may remove his protections against being sent back to El Salvador.
If the motion is accepted, Garcia will have a hearing where evidence and witnesses can be presented. Immigration attorney Rankin compares the process to “traffic court with death penalty consequences.” Judges have broad discretion on scheduling, evidence, and judgments. Unlike traffic court, outcomes can determine whether someone lives or dies.
Attorney General Pam Bondi has the authority to decide Garcia’s case. While such decisions are rare, the administration has shown willingness to set precedents. Critics say Bondi’s prior statements may bias Garcia’s trial.
Experts note any ruling from Bondi could be appealed to the 4th Circuit U.S. Court of Appeals. Rankin predicts Garcia’s lawyers would challenge decisions as politically motivated, claiming prosecution serves political goals rather than justice.
The case of Kilmar Abrego Garcia underscores ongoing conflicts in U.S. immigration policy, legal rights, and protections for individuals fearing gang violence abroad. His situation highlights the complex balance between law enforcement and humanitarian protections in the U.S.
