Donald Trump issued a Truth Social post in yet another prime example of inflammatory rhetoric, riddled with disinformation, conspiracy theories, and authoritarian undertones. He begins by asserting that Joe Biden “was not for Open Borders,” only to immediately contradict himself by accusing Biden of allowing criminals to flood into the country unchecked. In reality, Biden’s immigration policy has been far from an “open borders” approach—deportations have continued under his administration, and border enforcement has remained a priority, even if the strategy differs from Trump’s. Trump’s suggestion that Biden had no role in shaping these policies due to cognitive impairment is both medically unsubstantiated and politically opportunistic. There is no credible evidence supporting claims that Biden is unfit to serve, and such accusations are part of a broader effort to delegitimize his presidency.
The mention of the “Autopen” is a clumsy metaphor intended to bolster the conspiracy theory that a shadowy group, not Biden, is running the country. This is a familiar trope in Trump’s post-2020 messaging, promoting the baseless idea of a deep-state takeover. He escalates the rhetoric by calling unnamed political enemies “Treasonous Thugs” and insisting that “something very severe should happen” to them. This kind of vague but aggressive language echoes the tone Trump used in the lead-up to the January 6 insurrection and dangerously flirts with incitement. Furthermore, invoking “TREASON at the Highest Level” distorts the constitutional definition of treason, reducing it to a partisan insult rather than a legal charge.
Trump’s post also relies on dehumanizing language to describe immigrants, labeling them as “drug dealers, gang members, and the mentally insane.” This language is not only racially coded and stigmatizing but also crafted to incite fear and promote a caricatured image of immigration as a security threat. He finishes with self-congratulatory bombast, claiming he “came along” to stop the destruction of the country, casting himself as a savior in a fabricated existential crisis. This revisionist, strongman narrative reflects Trump’s ongoing strategy to position himself as the only solution to the problems he defines, while simultaneously undermining democratic institutions and sowing mistrust in the electoral process. Ultimately, the post serves more to mobilize resentment and stoke division than to offer any coherent or factual assessment of immigration policy.
Source: Truth Social
Donald Trump’s announcement of the “Golden Dome” missile defense shield, delivered alongside defense officials and Republican senators, was a bloated, unfocused presentation that combined exaggerated claims, political self-congratulation, and speculative military ambitions. At its core, the initiative is positioned as a spiritual successor to Ronald Reagan’s “Star Wars” Strategic Defense Initiative—a comprehensive, near-total missile defense system intended to shield the U.S. from ballistic, hypersonic, cruise, and even space-launched threats. Trump claimed the system would achieve "close to 100%" effectiveness and be fully operational within three years, but offered no technical evidence to support this assertion. In fact, such a claim defies current military consensus, which views missile interception, particularly of hypersonic threats, as an unsolved challenge, not a near-complete capability.
When pressed by the press corps, Trump admitted that the system had not been requested by military commanders; instead, he had proposed it himself, and they “loved the idea.” This reverses the standard logic of military procurement, where threat assessments, not campaign promises, usually drive billion-dollar projects. His repeated suggestion that the funding—$25 billion initially, with a total projected cost of $175 billion—was “easy” to secure rested on a bizarre and unsubstantiated claim that the United States had collected $5.1 trillion from the Middle East in four days. No accounting supports that figure, which he used to argue that this project is financially trivial by comparison. Experts place the total cost of the project at around $2.5 trillion.
Much of the announcement was dominated by a parade of Republican senators and officials offering redundant praise and reinforcing the narrative that this program represents unmatched American ingenuity. While there was repeated use of the phrase “layered defense” and “open architecture,” there was no explanation of how the system would integrate with existing missile defense programs, nor how it would specifically address the well-documented difficulty of tracking and intercepting hypersonic missiles. General Guetlein was named the program manager and praised as universally respected, though his technical mandate remained vague. References to Israel’s Iron Dome were used to imply credibility, but Trump claimed the U.S. system would far exceed it, again without technical clarification.
The press conference was riddled with digressions. Trump wandered into lengthy anecdotes about paintings in the White House, tariffs and manufacturing in Indiana, and his own “very high poll numbers.” While trying to evoke a sense of historical gravity by invoking figures like Abraham Lincoln and Andrew Jackson, the frequent tangents diminished the seriousness of the policy being presented. Notably, Trump dismissed concerns that the system might spark a new arms race in space, calling critics “wrong” and insisting that adversaries like Russia “can’t duplicate” American technology. Yet, when asked if he had directly addressed Russia’s reported space-based nuclear weapon tests, Trump admitted he had not discussed the matter with President Putin, despite claiming to have spoken with him for two and a half hours the previous day.
The Golden Dome announcement came across less as a strategic defense briefing and more as a campaign-style performance layered with patriotic imagery, unverifiable claims, and excessive optimism. The plan lacked detail, transparency, and any meaningful diplomatic context. If pursued as described, it could represent not just a wasteful defense boondoggle, but a destabilizing shift in U.S. posture toward space-based militarization, built more on political bravado than on military necessity or scientific possibility.
Source: The White House
Additional Source: Scientific American
Karoline Leavitt’s Take Our Sons and Daughters to Work Day press briefing was a carefully stage-managed display of political indoctrination disguised as civic engagement. While ostensibly designed to introduce children to the workings of the White House, the event instead functioned as a soft-focus propaganda vehicle for the Trump administration. Leavitt’s saccharine tone, constant flattery of the children, and conversational warmth masked a fundamentally dishonest exercise in image control, where reality was filtered through a MAGA-branded lens and uncomfortable facts were either ignored or rewritten.
Nearly every element of the event reinforced Donald Trump’s personality cult. Leavitt repeatedly referred to Trump as the “45th and now the 47th president,” a framing that not only elevates his political status but also subtly encourages reverence. She described the legislation he is pursuing as a “one big beautiful bill”—a phrase echoing Trump’s own self-promotional language—without offering any substance about the bill’s content. The press briefing was filled with empty slogans (“MAGA gold,” “we are blessed to be here,” “he likes to get things done quickly”) and idealized claims that presented Trump as both a paternal figure and a near-mythical problem-solver. This is not civic education; it is political performance tailored for impressionable minds.
Worse still, Leavitt made blatantly false or misleading statements without qualification. Her claim that “the border is the most secure it has ever been” is not only factually incorrect but an egregious piece of disinformation, especially coming from the White House podium. Likewise, her remarks about climate change—couched in vague assurances about clean air and water—ignored the Trump administration’s well-documented dismantling of environmental regulations and its alliance with fossil fuel interests. When asked about staffing turnover, Leavitt falsely claimed no one had been fired aside from a single person, despite a long list of high-profile dismissals and resignations. These statements weren’t just oversimplified for a younger audience—they were outright fabrications intended to sanitize the administration’s record.
The tone of the event veered into partisan snark at several points, including a moment when Leavitt smirked at a child’s question about her “least favorite news outlet” and quipped, “Did someone say ABC?” before saying, “It depends on the day.” Rather than modeling journalistic respect or neutrality, she validated Trump’s narrative of the media as the enemy, using children as props in that performance. This is especially inappropriate in a setting meant to foster curiosity and understanding of government, not reinforce political grievance and distrust.
Perhaps the most cynical element of the briefing was its use of children to launder political messaging. Leavitt answered questions about Trump’s favorite foods, his religion, whether he likes to give hugs, and even which of his children he prefers. The lighthearted tone belied a deeper goal: to present Donald Trump as affable, moral, beloved, and above all, infallible. The press secretary's role—traditionally to explain, clarify, and be held accountable—was repurposed into that of a cheerleader, using childlike simplicity to deflect scrutiny.
In the end, this was not a press briefing—it was a campaign stunt repackaged for kindergarten. It offered no meaningful insight into the workings of the executive branch, the role of the press, or the responsibilities of leadership. It replaced civic instruction with personality cult reinforcement and fed children a curated version of political reality, tailored to preserve power rather than foster understanding. Leavitt didn’t just fail to inform—she actively misled, and did so with a smile.
Secretary of State Marco Rubio’s testimony before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee offered a revealing and at times damning portrait of the Trump administration’s second-term approach to foreign policy. The hearing oscillated between partisan praise and substantive critique, with Rubio delivering a rhetorically polished but substantively inconsistent defense of the administration’s actions. While Republican senators lauded his efforts to “streamline” diplomacy and eliminate bureaucratic inefficiencies, Democratic lawmakers highlighted the destabilizing effects of abrupt foreign aid cuts, diminished multilateral engagement, and the erosion of America’s global credibility. Rubio frequently emphasized themes of efficiency, decentralization, and modernization, highlighting a reorganization of the State Department that delegated decision-making to regional bureaus and field officers. However, his framing of traditional career diplomats as bureaucratic impediments rather than institutional assets reflected a broader hostility toward professional expertise, mirroring patterns seen across Trump’s executive agencies.
Much of the hearing focused on the administration’s aggressive rollback of foreign aid, especially at USAID. Rubio defended the cuts by citing a misleading statistic—that only 12 cents of every dollar in aid reached its intended recipients. This figure was sharply contested by multiple senators who presented counterexamples involving programs like PEPFAR, HIV/AIDS assistance, and demining efforts that were defunded or dismantled. Senators Jeanne Shaheen and Chris Coons underscored the global implications of this retrenchment, noting that China has quickly filled the vacuum by expanding its influence in Africa and Asia. Rubio’s refusal to acknowledge Beijing’s growing role in humanitarian assistance contradicted multiple reports from U.S. military and diplomatic sources, undermining his credibility on countering Chinese influence.
Rubio’s discussion of Ukraine further exposed contradictions in the administration’s foreign policy. While insisting that sanctions on Russia remained intact, he dodged questions about future military aid and failed to explain why President Trump had removed NATO membership for Ukraine from consideration. His fatalistic assertion that Ukraine cannot achieve a military victory echoed Russian talking points and suggested a resignation that weakens U.S. deterrence. Senator Shaheen’s remark that Vladimir Putin was “playing the president like a fiddle” resonated in this context, highlighting the strategic incoherence of Rubio’s position. On Iran, Rubio took a hardline stance, demanding the elimination of enrichment capabilities while claiming to support a diplomatic resolution. This contradictory posture, offering no viable incentives for Iranian compliance, revealed a lack of realism and weakened the administration’s negotiating position.
Rubio praised reengagement in Syria and the reopening of a U.S. embassy there, but failed to address the risks of legitimizing authoritarian actors without clear conditions. His portrayal of this as bold diplomacy ignored deeper concerns about accountability and the potential endorsement of corruption and repression. Meanwhile, his inability to defend the administration’s handling of global credibility issues was most apparent in his invocation of outdated metrics, such as the claim that the U.S. gives more foreign aid than the next ten countries combined, without addressing the volatility and unpredictability of Trump’s aid policies. Senators cited examples of missions and civil society groups abandoned midstream due to decisions made by Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), exposing a crisis of reliability in U.S. foreign engagement.
Rubio’s response to allegations of Trump’s ongoing business entanglements was equally troubling. Senator Chris Murphy raised concerns about deals involving Trump-affiliated entities and foreign governments, including a cryptocurrency agreement in the UAE and a luxury aircraft provided by Qatar. Rubio dismissed these as private family matters, ignoring the ethical and diplomatic implications of foreign influence on presidential decision-making. His refusal to inquire further signaled a breakdown in basic oversight responsibilities and a normalization of self-dealing at the highest levels of government. On refugee policy, Rubio defended the administration’s decision to prioritize white Afrikaner farmers from South Africa while suspending other refugee admissions. When pressed by Senator Tim Kaine, Rubio framed refugee admissions as a matter of national interest and vetting convenience, side-stepping international legal standards and reinforcing concerns of racial and political bias in refugee policy.
His responses on Gaza were similarly evasive. Questioned by Senator Jeff Merkley about Israeli practices of forced displacement through food denial and home demolitions, Rubio declined to criticize the strategy, instead repeating standard justifications about targeting Hamas. Although he expressed nominal support for humanitarian aid, he avoided acknowledging Israel’s role in the deepening crisis or outlining a coherent U.S. response. Rubio appeared most confident discussing energy diplomacy and AI-driven energy demand, particularly when advocating for partnerships with Paraguay, Guyana, and Central Asian states. However, this practical focus clashed with the broader administration’s deregulatory agenda and hostility to environmental, social, and governance (ESG) frameworks, revealing contradictions in energy policy.
On Iran and Syria, Rubio reiterated concerns about enrichment and regional instability but failed to provide a credible strategy for balancing sanctions and negotiations. His vague assurances about transitional governance in Syria fell flat without concrete plans to address foreign troop presence and sectarian conflict. Throughout the hearing, Rubio’s defense of the State Department’s restructuring and the absorption of USAID functions came under fire. Lawmakers pointed to the dismantling of key offices—including the Office of Global Women’s Issues—and the loss of institutional capacity to manage health, peacekeeping, and development programs. Rubio’s insistence that these “functions remain” rang hollow, particularly given his refusal to comply with oversight requests or provide notification of major policy changes.
A particularly searing exchange occurred with Senator Cory Booker regarding the administration’s slow and inadequate response to the Sudan crisis. While Rubio acknowledged the UAE’s support for genocidal actors, he offered no clear answers on humanitarian aid delivery or envoy appointments. Booker, visibly frustrated, likened the administration’s inaction to the moral failures depicted in Schindler’s List, underscoring the human cost of strategic delay. Rubio also drew bipartisan concern for his comments on revoking student visas in response to Gaza protests. He described student demonstrators as “lunatics” and defended the administration’s actions as national security measures. His approach—targeting even peaceful dissent—signaled an alarming readiness to use immigration policy as a tool for suppressing First Amendment-protected speech.
Rubio’s testimony reflected a foreign policy that has grown increasingly authoritarian, reactive, and ideologically rigid. His rhetorical discipline and policy fluency could not mask the deeper contradictions in the Trump administration’s strategic posture: a government that undermines its own diplomats, devalues humanitarian norms, and confuses retraction with reform. While Republican senators praised Rubio’s loyalty and vigor, Democrats challenged his integrity, exposing a widening divide over policy details and the fundamental principles of American diplomacy. The hearing served as a stark reminder that U.S. foreign policy is being reshaped around presidential whim, private interest, and partisan loyalty—often at the expense of global leadership, legal accountability, and moral clarity.
Today’s Senate testimony of Department of Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem served as a stark reflection of the Trump administration’s evolving—and increasingly contentious—approach to governance, civil liberties, and federal authority. Instead of offering a clear defense or exposition of DHS priorities, Noem presided over a hearing marked by confusion, ideological dogma, and legally questionable assertions. The hearing became a microcosm of the broader political struggle over the limits of executive power, the balance between security and liberty, and the role of DHS in shaping the country’s immigration and disaster response systems.
At the center of the spectacle was Secretary Noem herself, who exuded confidence in support of Trump’s second-term agenda but frequently faltered when pressed on legal and operational specifics. Her testimony leaned heavily on political slogans, portraying DHS as an agency being “restored” after years of alleged neglect and politicization under the previous administration. Yet when probed on constitutional principles—especially the suspension of habeas corpus—she repeatedly misstepped. Senator Kim exposed her misunderstanding of the Constitution by pointing out that the Suspension Clause is located in Article I, not Article II, contradicting Noem’s implication that the president could unilaterally suspend habeas rights. This raised deep concerns about her grasp of fundamental legal constraints. Senator Hassan followed up by warning that such claims echoed dangerous ideas reportedly floated by administration hardliners like Stephen Miller, who have allegedly discussed invoking emergency powers to bypass civil liberties.
Immigration policy consumed much of the hearing’s time, with Republicans celebrating what they claimed was a 93–95% reduction in daily migrant encounters at the southern border. These figures were presented without sourcing or verification and lacked an explanation of the enforcement mechanisms responsible. While Noem and her allies framed this drop as evidence of a strong, restored border policy, Democrats pointed to a darker reality: overreach, rights violations, and procedural abuse. Reports that legal immigrants, visa holders, and even U.S. citizens had been wrongly detained or deported were met with obfuscation. Representative Slotkin detailed cases where international students, particularly PhD candidates and green card holders, had been denied re-entry or deported without due process. Noem failed to directly address these concerns, instead deferring to general process guidelines.
Most chilling were the unaddressed allegations that deportation efforts had swept up children undergoing medical treatment, including cancer patients, and repatriated them without proper consideration. Noem did not deny the reports, nor did she offer any humane justification or systemic correction. Her failure to acknowledge such cases stood in stark contrast to her frequent claims that DHS was targeting only “the most dangerous” individuals.
Civil liberties were another area of intense scrutiny. Senator Rand Paul and Senator Richard Blumenthal raised alarm over the continuation and expansion of domestic surveillance programs like “Quiet Skies,” as well as the reported surveillance of former Representative Tulsi Gabbard. Noem declined to confirm details but justified broad surveillance powers as necessary corrections to “post-9/11 complacency.” The reframing of privacy violations as “national security enhancements” signaled a fundamental shift away from constitutional restraint.
Financial issues also undermined Noem’s credibility. Her defense of a $46.5 billion border wall budget—over three times higher than Customs and Border Protection estimates—was evasive. She attributed the cost to unspecified surveillance upgrades, drone defense systems, and border infrastructure, but failed to produce a cost breakdown. Senators Paul and Peters expressed frustration with this lack of transparency. Adding to the image of bureaucratic excess, Senator Gallego highlighted a $50 million Gulfstream jet procurement intended for DHS “border inspection tours,” which seemed emblematic of the department’s conflation of administrative perks with operational needs.
Noem’s ambitions to restructure FEMA were especially controversial. She argued that the agency should be “eliminated in its current form” and replaced with a decentralized system empowering state and local governments. This position came amid ongoing natural disasters in Missouri, New Jersey, and Connecticut, making her call for FEMA deconstruction both ill-timed and ideologically driven. Bipartisan frustration emerged over Noem’s apparent indifference to the practical implications of cutting FEMA funding and reducing federal disaster coordination at a time of heightened environmental risk. Her proposals to slash grants for election security, cyber defense, and nonprofit security programs—many of which support at-risk religious communities—were seen as dangerous concessions to ideological minimalism.
On civil rights oversight, Noem’s record raised red flags. Despite clear statutory requirements under the Homeland Security Act, Noem admitted to restructuring or downsizing offices like Civil Rights and Liberties without proper congressional notification. Her claim that the offices were merely “right-sized” rang hollow when weighed against whistleblower reports suggesting key oversight functions were defunded or eliminated altogether. Her ignorance of Section 872’s legal stipulations reinforced the impression that legal compliance was subordinate to political expediency.
Humanitarian obligations also fell by the wayside. Senator John Fetterman implored Noem to prioritize pathways for Afghan nationals who had served alongside U.S. forces, only to receive a perfunctory and vague response. Noem offered no assurance that these allies would be protected or processed for resettlement, underscoring the contradictions in an immigration policy that accelerates mass deportation but ignores moral commitments to wartime allies.
Perhaps the most bizarre moment came when Noem was forced to respond to reports that DHS was producing a reality television show about immigration enforcement. While she denied any such program existed, the fact that such a claim had to be addressed during official Senate testimony speaks to the chaotic and theatrical perception of DHS operations under her leadership.
In conclusion, Secretary Noem’s testimony painted a picture of a Department of Homeland Security transformed into an instrument of political ideology, unmoored from constitutional constraints, fiscal accountability, and humanitarian considerations. While some bipartisan concerns emerged—particularly around disaster relief and cybersecurity—the overall tone of the hearing revealed a department governed more by loyalty to Trump’s vision than by legal norms or administrative competence. Noem’s performance raised serious doubts about her qualifications and the broader direction of DHS, which now appears to be operating in a legal and ethical gray zone with significant consequences for civil liberties, national security, and democratic oversight.
HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. testified at a Senate hearing on the HHS budget, which was a turbulent and revealing event, marked by fierce debate over his proposed budget cuts, departmental restructuring, and controversial leadership style. Kennedy positioned himself as a reformer seeking to “Make America Healthy Again” through drastic changes in staffing, funding priorities, and the agency’s research focus. However, senators from both parties raised serious concerns about the legality, transparency, and human cost of his actions. While some Republicans praised Kennedy for targeting inefficiency—particularly by slashing indirect costs in NIH research grants—others joined Democrats in expressing alarm over the dismantling of key public health programs, the termination of scientific staff, and the freezing of billions in congressionally appropriated funds. A major flashpoint emerged when it was revealed that more than 530 program line items in HHS’s budget plan had been replaced with asterisks, offering no public clarity on spending.
A central point of contention was Kennedy’s proposed $18 billion cut to the National Institutes of Health, approximately 40% of its total budget. He framed this move as a necessary correction to what he claimed were decades of misaligned research priorities and entrenched corruption, particularly targeting Alzheimer’s research. However, senators detailed the consequences already underway: more than 3,000 grants had been canceled or withheld, clinical trials were paused, and key scientists were leaving the agency, raising concerns over a long-term erosion of U.S. leadership in biomedical innovation. Kennedy’s responses failed to inspire confidence. He frequently deflected, claimed ignorance of specific cancellations, or blamed bureaucratic delays on other agencies like the Office of Management and Budget. Despite repeatedly touting his commitment to “radical transparency,” Kennedy refused to provide operational plans, hiring data, or spending rationales to the committee.
Kennedy’s testimony also highlighted the ideological transformation of HHS under his leadership. He confirmed the elimination of programs he deemed associated with “DEI” and “gender ideology,” yet he struggled to differentiate between politically charged rhetoric and scientifically valid demographic research. Senators like Brian Schatz and Patty Murray warned that such sweeping removals threatened to discard essential studies on racial disparities, sex-based treatment responses, and epidemiological trends in underserved communities. Kennedy insisted he supported research based on biological differences but admitted that some legitimate programs might have been terminated unintentionally during the initial wave of grant cancellations.
While Kennedy employed populist rhetoric—highlighting the U.S.’s high healthcare spending and poor outcomes as evidence of systemic failure—his justification for cutting Alzheimer’s research, childhood lead poisoning prevention, ALS studies, and rural health infrastructure fell flat. Democratic senators repeatedly challenged him to explain how such cuts improved American lives, but Kennedy offered only vague promises of future efficiency, innovation, and AI-based solutions. Even sympathetic Republicans appeared uneasy, particularly as Kennedy conceded that many decisions, such as the abrupt firing of NIH scientists or the temporary halt to opioid response funding, may have been premature or poorly communicated.
The most heated exchanges occurred around Kennedy’s refusal to implement funds that Congress had already approved. Senators accused him of unlawful impoundment, defying the constitutional authority of Congress to appropriate public funds. Kennedy denied wrongdoing but failed to offer a timeline for releasing the delayed grants or reopening shuttered programs. Compounding his credibility issues were comments that reignited controversy over his views on vaccines, particularly his assertion that MMR vaccines contain fetal DNA fragments, which he linked to broader anti-vaccine theories. His claim that the U.S. measles outbreak was “under control” compared to other countries rang hollow amid growing public health concerns.
Despite bipartisan agreement on the value of programs like LIHEAP, rural hospital stabilization, and Alzheimer’s research, Kennedy’s testimony reflected a department in disarray—engaged in a top-down transformation with little consultation, legislative oversight, or operational transparency. He presented himself as a compassionate disruptor, but the hearing revealed an agency riddled with uncertainty, cratering staff morale, and severe disruptions in public health services. Lawmakers from both parties expressed concern that HHS under Kennedy was becoming more ideologically driven and less rooted in evidence-based governance.
The hearing underscored the broader dangers of unchecked executive overreach in the realm of public health. Kennedy’s reforms may reflect deeply held convictions about bureaucratic inefficiency, but their execution has been marked by speed, opacity, and disregard for statutory obligations and scientific norms. His claim that the U.S. is the “sickest developed country” may resonate rhetorically, but dismantling the very institutions tasked with solving that crisis does not constitute a cure. Instead, his approach risks undermining decades of bipartisan progress in biomedical research, healthcare access, and disease prevention, while sowing lasting instability in one of the nation’s most vital agencies.
The Trump administration has reportedly deported migrants from Myanmar and Vietnam to South Sudan, potentially violating a federal court order that prohibits such removals without giving individuals a fair chance to contest them on safety grounds. Lawyers representing the migrants say up to a dozen people may have been sent to Africa, despite a standing judicial ruling that forbids deportations to third countries without notice or legal recourse.
One deportation, involving a man from Myanmar, was confirmed via an email from an immigration official in Texas. The man was informed only in English, which he barely understands, and his legal team was alerted just hours before his flight. Another report came from a woman whose husband, a Vietnamese national, was allegedly among those flown to Africa.
Attorneys have requested an emergency intervention from Judge Brian E. Murphy, who previously ruled that secretive deportations to unsafe countries like Libya would breach his order. A hearing is scheduled for Wednesday. The Department of Homeland Security and the White House have not commented.
Due to the refusal of some nations to accept deportees, the administration has made controversial deals with other countries, including sending Venezuelans to a prison in El Salvador using an obscure 18th-century law.
South Sudan, the apparent destination, remains unstable, plagued by violence, civil war threats, and serious human rights abuses. Despite these conditions, which previously justified granting South Sudanese nationals Temporary Protected Status in the U.S., the administration appears to be bypassing these protections. DHS Secretary Kristi Noem recently extended TPS for South Sudanese residents through November for further review.