Nine months to earn the right to sit across from a lawyer.
Nine months into an indefinite detention in a foreign kingdom, four men deported from the United States to Eswatini have finally been granted the right to meet face-to-face with a lawyer — a right so elementary that its absence speaks volumes about the legal architecture surrounding America's third-country deportation program. The Eswatini Supreme Court ruled Thursday that the men, originally from Cuba, Yemen, Laos, and Vietnam, may consult in person with local counsel, overturning the government's argument that no charges on Eswatini soil meant no right to representation. Their case illuminates a broader and largely hidden system in which the United States has paid millions to nations across Africa and beyond to hold migrants in legal limbo, far from the courts that might otherwise hear them.
- Four men have spent nine months inside a maximum-security prison in Eswatini — a country they have no ties to — without ever being charged with a crime there, held under an arrangement their lawyers call plainly illegal.
- Eswatini's government fought even the most basic concession, appealing a lower court's grant of in-person legal access and arguing that men who face no local charges have no right to local counsel.
- The Supreme Court dismissed those arguments Thursday, but the ruling arrives after three-quarters of a year of phone-only contact — a restriction that made meaningful legal strategy nearly impossible.
- Behind this single case lies a $40 million program spanning at least eight African nations, with financial deals, undisclosed detention sites, and in at least one instance, requests from a recipient government to drop sanctions and prosecute an opposition leader.
- Eswatini has said it can hold the deportees for up to a year, and its government has not yet indicated whether it will comply with the ruling or seek further legal avenues to block access.
Nine months after being flown to a maximum-security prison in the small African kingdom of Eswatini, four men deported from the United States have won the right to meet in person with a lawyer. The Eswatini Supreme Court ruled Thursday that the four — originally from Cuba, Yemen, Laos, and Vietnam — may consult face-to-face with a local attorney working on behalf of their American legal teams. It was not an easy victory: a lower court had already granted that access, and the Eswatini government immediately appealed, arguing the men had no right to counsel because they had never been charged with any crime on Eswatini soil. The Supreme Court dismissed those arguments.
The men arrived last July under the Trump administration's third-country deportation program, which sends migrants to nations other than their countries of origin when direct deportation is difficult or impossible. The U.S. government confirmed they had been convicted of serious crimes in America and carried deportation orders. Their lawyers counter that they had already served those sentences, and that holding them indefinitely in a foreign prison without charges is simply illegal. For nine months, they were limited to phone calls with U.S.-based attorneys — denying them the kind of in-person meetings where real legal strategy is built.
Eswatini is Africa's last absolute monarchy and one of at least eight African nations that have struck agreements with Washington to accept deported migrants. The U.S. agreed to pay Eswatini $5.1 million under the arrangement. A Senate Democratic staff report estimated the broader program had cost at least $40 million to deport roughly 300 migrants to third countries. Other deals have drawn scrutiny: Rwanda was promised $7.5 million, and the arrangement with South Sudan reportedly included requests — apparently unmet — to drop sanctions against a corrupt official and help prosecute an opposition leader.
Many details of these arrangements remain hidden, including the locations of some detainees and the duration of their confinement. As of February, 47 such deals had been finalized or were under negotiation. Eswatini has said it can hold the current deportees for up to a year, and its government said Friday it had not yet decided how to respond to the ruling. For the four men at Matsapha Correctional Complex, Thursday's decision is a narrow but real opening — the right, after nine months, to sit across a table from someone who can help them fight back.
Nine months after four men were flown from the United States to a maximum-security prison in the small African kingdom of Eswatini, a court has finally said they can speak with a lawyer face to face.
The Eswatini Supreme Court ruled Thursday that the four deportees — originally from Cuba, Yemen, Laos, and Vietnam — have the right to meet in person with Sibusiso Nhlabatsi, a local attorney working on behalf of their American legal teams. It was not a swift or easy victory. A lower court had already granted that access, and the Eswatini government immediately appealed, arguing that the men had no right to counsel because they had never been arrested or charged with any crime on Eswatini soil. The Supreme Court dismissed those arguments.
The men arrived in Eswatini last July as part of the Trump administration's third-country deportation program — an arrangement in which the U.S. sends migrants to nations that are not their countries of origin, typically because deportation to their home countries is difficult or impossible. The U.S. government has confirmed the four men had been convicted of serious crimes in America and carried deportation orders. Their lawyers counter that they had already served their sentences, and that holding them indefinitely in a foreign prison where they face no charges is simply illegal.
During those nine months, the men were permitted only phone calls with their U.S.-based attorneys. In-person meetings — the kind that allow for real legal strategy, for documents to be reviewed, for trust to be built — were denied. Alma David, an attorney at Novo Legal Group who represents two of the four men, said Friday that the length of the legal fight to secure something as basic as a lawyer visit reveals exactly how hard Eswatini's government has worked to deny these men fundamental rights.
Eswatini is Africa's last absolute monarchy, governed by a king, and its government has faced repeated accusations of suppressing pro-democracy movements, at times with violence. The country is one of at least eight African nations that have struck agreements with Washington to accept deported migrants who cannot easily be returned to their home countries. The U.S. agreed to pay Eswatini $5.1 million under the arrangement. Since July, at least 19 deportees have arrived in the country in separate groups; two have since been sent on to their countries of origin. Eswatini has said it can hold the others for up to a year.
The financial architecture of the broader program is substantial. A Senate Democratic staff report from February estimated the Trump administration had spent at least $40 million to deport roughly 300 migrants to third countries — in Africa, Central America, and elsewhere. Rwanda was promised $7.5 million. The deal with South Sudan reportedly included requests from that government to have U.S. sanctions dropped against a senior official accused of corruption, and for help prosecuting an opposition leader — though there is no indication Washington agreed to those terms. Senate Democrats have also raised concerns about a $7.5 million payment to Equatorial Guinea, whose ruling family faces accusations of systemic corruption and repression.
Many details of these arrangements remain hidden. The locations where some deportees are being held have not been disclosed. The duration of their detention is often unclear. As of February, internal documents showed 47 such deals had either been finalized or were under negotiation.
The Eswatini government, for its part, has not said what it will do next. A spokesperson told the Associated Press on Friday that the ruling was still fresh and that officials had not yet gathered to weigh their options.
For the four men at Matsapha Correctional Complex, Thursday's ruling is a narrow but meaningful opening — the right, after three-quarters of a year, to sit across a table from someone who can help them fight back. Whether that fight leads anywhere will depend on what comes next, in Eswatini's courts and in Washington's ongoing negotiations with governments across the continent.
Notable Quotes
The nine months of litigation required just to allow these men to meet with a lawyer speaks volumes about how hard the government of Eswatini is fighting to deny them the most basic of rights.— Alma David, attorney at Novo Legal Group, representing two of the four deported men
The judgment is still new, and the government has not yet convened to consider any potential future actions, if necessary.— Thabile Mdluli, Eswatini government spokesperson
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does it matter so much that these men couldn't meet with a lawyer in person? They had phone calls.
Phone calls are monitored, often recorded, and deeply limited. You can't hand someone a document. You can't read their face. Real legal work — building a case, reviewing evidence, establishing trust — requires presence.
The U.S. says it followed due process before deporting them. Is that the end of the argument?
It's the beginning of a different argument. Due process for the deportation itself is one question. What happens to someone after they land in a foreign prison, uncharged, is another question entirely — and that's the one nobody has answered cleanly.
Why would Eswatini fight so hard to keep lawyers away from these men?
That's the question worth sitting with. One possibility is that access to lawyers creates a paper trail, invites scrutiny, and complicates an arrangement that both governments would prefer to keep quiet.
The U.S. paid Eswatini $5.1 million. What does that buy exactly?
Officially, it covers the cost of housing and managing the deportees. Practically, it buys a government willing to hold people indefinitely without charging them — people the U.S. can't easily send home and doesn't want to keep.
Are the other seven African countries in similar situations?
The details vary, but the structure is the same — money changes hands, migrants arrive, and the receiving country handles the rest. Some deals are partially public. Many are not. The locations of some deportees aren't even disclosed.
What does this ruling actually change for the four men?
It changes the quality of their legal fight. It doesn't free them, doesn't charge them, doesn't resolve anything. But it means their lawyers can finally sit with them and figure out what fighting back actually looks like.