In the final days of August, the Trump administration quietly deposited more than a hundred people across eight African nations — none of them citizens of the countries where they landed. The policy, known as 'third-country' deportation, allows the government to send individuals to nations with which they share no language, family, or legal standing, effectively routing around protections won in American courts. Among those expelled was a young Afghan man whose family had fought alongside U.S. forces, now left in the Central African Republic — a country the State Department warns its own citiz
Trump administration expands 'third country' deportations, sending 100+ to African nations
We have to keep that promise.
So the basic fact here is that over ten days, the U.S. deported more than 100 people to eight African countries, and none of them were actually from those countries. That's the core of it?
Yes. The documents show three ICE flights in late August. The people on those flights came from Afghanistan, Cuba, Nicaragua, Iran, Nepal, Turkey, Venezuela, and Africa itself. But they were sent to places like Burundi, Cameroon, the Central African Republic—countries where they had no family, no language, no legal status.
Wait. The documents show this happened, or the documents show the flights happened and CBS is reporting the destinations? Because there's a difference between confirmed deportations and what internal documents claim.
The internal government documents obtained by CBS News detail the flights and the destinations. That's the sourcing.
And the policy itself—this "third country" deportation thing—is that legal?
It exists within a legal framework. More than 30 countries have agreed to accept such deportations. The government's argument is that when someone refuses to return to their home country, the law requires the government to find an alternative safe nation. But the question is whether the Central African Republic, for instance, qualifies as safe.
The State Department itself says Americans shouldn't go there. Level 4 advisory. Armed conflict, Russian mercenaries. So the government is saying it's safe enough for deportees but not safe enough for American citizens. That's worth naming.
And then there's the case of this Afghan man, Khalil. He won legal protection in immigration court.
He won "withholding of removal," which means a judge found he'd face persecution in Afghanistan. But that protection only prevents ICE from sending him back to Afghanistan. It doesn't prevent deportation to a third country. So the Trump administration sent him to the Central African Republic anyway.
But here's what I need to flag: we have his lawyer's account, his brother's account, and a Marine colonel's account. We don't have Khalil's own statement on the record. We don't have the government's explanation for why he specifically was deported. We have the policy framework, but not the individual decision-making.
The Marine colonel said if Khalil is sent back to Afghanistan, he'll be killed. Is that a prediction or based on specific threats?
He said he's seen threats made by Taliban militants against Khalil's family. So there's a documented pattern of targeting.
Documented by whom? The colonel's personal observation, or intelligence reports? That matters for how confident we can be in the danger assessment.
What's the government's response to all this?
DHS said the choice is the deportee's—go home and get a free flight plus $3,000, or accept a third country. The State Department wouldn't comment on the specific deportations or the leaked documents, but said implementing Trump's immigration policies is a top priority.
So they're not denying the deportations happened. They're just not engaging with the specifics or the human cases. That's notable.
Der Puls
- Over 100 people from Afghanistan, Cuba, Iran, Venezuela, and elsewhere were flown to African countries they had never lived in, had no family in, and in many cases had no legal right to enter.
- Some deportees had won formal legal protections in U.S. immigration court — protections that blocked removal to their home countries but could not stop the government from sending them somewhere else entirely.
- An Afghan man whose brother died fighting the Taliban and whose other brother served alongside U.S. forces was deported to the conflict-torn Central African Republic, despite a judge's ruling that he faced persecution if removed.
- A Marine colonel who supervised the family's service warned that the U.S. is breaking an implicit promise made to Afghans who aided the American war effort, and that Khalil's life is now in danger.
- The administration defends the practice by framing it as a lawful response to those who refuse voluntary return, while the international agreements enabling these flights remain largely hidden from public view.
In the final days of August, the Trump administration quietly deposited more than a hundred people across eight African nations — none of them citizens of the countries where they landed. The policy, known as 'third-country' deportation, allows the government to send individuals to nations with which they share no language, family, or legal standing, effectively routing around protections won in American courts. Among those expelled was a young Afghan man whose family had fought alongside U.S. forces, now left in the Central African Republic — a country the State Department warns its own citizens to avoid. The episode raises an ancient question about the obligations of powerful nations to those who trusted them.
Over ten days in late August, the Trump administration carried out three deportation flights that sent more than 100 people to eight African nations — Burundi, Cameroon, the Central African Republic, Equatorial Guinea, Eswatini, Liberia, Rwanda, and Sierra Leone. The deportees came from Afghanistan, Cuba, Nicaragua, Iran, Nepal, Turkey, Venezuela, and parts of Africa itself. Not one of them was a citizen of the country where they were dropped.
The administration calls this its 'third-country' strategy — a mechanism for expelling people to nations willing to accept them, regardless of any personal connection. More than 30 countries globally have signed on to such arrangements, and the roster of African partners is growing. Some, like Ghana and Sierra Leone, agreed to accept only African nationals. Others, like the Central African Republic and Liberia, have received people from Latin America, Asia, and beyond — individuals selected not for any tie to those places, but because the U.S. needed somewhere to send them.
Many of the August deportees had no criminal history beyond immigration violations. Some had won legal protections in U.S. immigration court — rulings that shielded them from removal to their home countries but, as the administration has now demonstrated, could not prevent deportation to a third country entirely.
One case captures the human cost with particular clarity. Khalil, a 24-year-old Afghan man, crossed into the U.S. in 2024 to join brothers who had served alongside American forces — one brought to the U.S. in 2014 for his military service, another killed fighting the Taliban. While in ICE detention, Khalil was granted 'withholding of removal' by a U.S. immigration judge, a legal finding that he faced persecution if returned to Afghanistan. In late August, he was flown instead to the Central African Republic — a nation under a Level 4 State Department travel warning due to widespread armed conflict and Russian mercenary activity.
Zachary Schmidt, an active-duty Marine colonel who had supervised Khalil's brother in Afghanistan, told CBS News he believes Khalil will be killed if he is ever sent back to Afghanistan, and that the United States made a promise to families like his that it is now abandoning. Khalil's attorney described the case as a deliberate effort to make court-granted protections meaningless by simply routing around them.
The Department of Homeland Security defended the flights, saying the government is legally obligated to find placement for those who refuse voluntary return, and that deportees are always free to accept a flight home with a $3,000 stipend. The State Department declined to comment on the leaked documents. What the documents reveal, however, is a system operating largely in secret — one in which the destination is chosen not for its safety or its relevance to the person being sent there, but for its willingness to say yes.
Over ten days in late August, the Trump administration executed three immigration enforcement flights that deposited more than 100 people across eight African nations. None of them were citizens of the countries where they landed. The deportees came from Afghanistan, Cuba, Nicaragua, Iran, Nepal, Turkey, Venezuela, and various African nations themselves. They were sent to Burundi, Cameroon, the Central African Republic, Equatorial Guinea, Eswatini, Liberia, Rwanda, and Sierra Leone. Internal U.S. government documents obtained by CBS News reveal the scope of what the administration calls its "third country" deportation strategy—a mechanism that allows the government to expel people to nations where they have no family, no language, no legal status, and often no safety.
The strategy is not new, but it is accelerating. More than 30 countries globally have agreed to accept such deportations, including Costa Rica, Panama, and Paraguay. But the Trump administration has brokered deals with a growing roster of African nations, some of them fractured by armed conflict, political instability, and documented human rights violations. Ghana and Sierra Leone have agreed to accept only African deportees. But countries like Eswatini, the Central African Republic, and Liberia have received people from Latin America, Europe, and Asia—individuals with no connection to those places beyond the fact that the U.S. government needed somewhere to send them.
Some of those deported carry criminal convictions alongside their immigration violations. But many do not. Their only offense is entering the country without authorization or lacking proper documentation to remain. The government documents show that among the August deportees were people who had won legal protections in U.S. immigration court—a status that should have shielded them from removal to their home countries but did not prevent the Trump administration from sending them elsewhere.
One case illustrates the human weight of this policy. Khalil, a 24-year-old Afghan man, crossed the U.S.-Mexico border illegally in 2024 after traveling through Latin America. He came to join his brothers, one of whom had been brought to the United States in 2014 because of his service alongside American military forces in the Afghan Army. Another brother, a pilot, had fought the Taliban and was killed during the war. While detained by Immigration and Customs Enforcement, Khalil was granted "withholding of removal" by a U.S. immigration judge in August 2025—a legal protection that acknowledged he faced persecution if returned to Afghanistan. He did not receive asylum, a more permanent status, because a Biden-era policy disqualified asylum-seekers who had not sought protection in other countries first.
The withholding of removal barred ICE from sending Khalil back to Afghanistan. It did not, however, prevent his deportation to a third country. In late August, he was put on a flight to the Central African Republic, a landlocked nation ravaged by armed conflict and Russian mercenary activity. The U.S. State Department maintains a "Level 4" travel advisory for the country, warning Americans to avoid it entirely due to widespread violence and insecurity.
Zachary Schmidt, an active-duty Marine colonel who supervised Khalil's brother during his deployment to Afghanistan, expressed grave concern about the deportation. "It is my belief that if Khalil gets sent back to Afghanistan, that he will be killed," Schmidt told CBS News. He noted that the United States had made an implicit bargain with Afghans who aided the American war effort: help us, and we will protect you and your family. "We have to keep that promise," he said.
Khalil's immigration lawyer, Alma David, framed the case as emblematic of a broader assault on the global refugee protection system. The Trump administration's approach—using third-country deportations to circumvent legal protections won in American courts—represents, in her view, an attempt to render those protections meaningless.
When asked about the deportations, the Department of Homeland Security said that when people refuse to return to their home countries, the government is legally required to find "a safe and secure nation" for them. "If an illegal alien chooses to go home, we will give them a free flight home and a $3,000 check," the department stated. "The choice is theirs." The State Department declined to comment on what it called "private diplomatic communications" or the authenticity of the leaked documents, but reaffirmed its commitment to ending what it characterized as illegal and mass immigration.
The documents obtained by CBS News offer a rare window into the mechanics of a policy largely conducted in secrecy. The international agreements that enable these deportations have been shrouded from public view. What emerges from the August flights is a picture of a system in which people with no ties to their destinations, including those granted legal protection in American courts, are being sent to countries selected not for their safety or their connection to the deportees, but for their willingness to accept them.
Bemerkenswerte Zitate
It is my belief that if Khalil gets sent back to Afghanistan, that he will be killed.— Zachary Schmidt, active-duty Marine colonel
The goal is to obliterate the global refugee protection system, and his case should serve as a warning of the unconscionable consequences.— Alma David, Khalil's immigration lawyer