U.S. expands third-country deportations, sending migrants to Eswatini

The Trump administration has begun executing a strategy that was legally blocked until recently: sending migrants to countries where they have no connection, no family, no history. In the past two weeks, the U.S. has deported thirteen men this way—five to Eswatini, a small African kingdom, and eight to South Sudan, a nation still fractured by civil war. The Supreme Court's decision to lift restrictions on such deportations has opened a door the administration intends to walk through repeatedly.

On a Tuesday night, Homeland Security Assistant Secretary Tricia McLaughlin announced the Eswatini deportations via social media, posting mug shots and criminal records without naming the men. They are citizens of Vietnam, Jamaica, Cuba, Yemen, and Laos—countries that have historically refused to accept their own citizens when deported from America. McLaughlin described them as "uniquely barbaric" individuals convicted of murder, child rape, and gang activity. "They have been terrorizing American communities," she wrote, "but are now off of American soil." The announcement contained no details about when the men arrived, where they are being held, or what their legal status is in Eswatini.

Eswatini itself presents a stark picture. The nation of 1.2 million people, nestled between South Africa and Mozambique, is one of the world's last absolute monarchies. King Mswati III has ruled by decree since 1986, effectively banning political parties and, according to human rights groups, crushing dissent through violence. In 2021, pro-democracy protests left dozens dead, allegedly killed by security forces. The government has been accused of political assassinations and imprisonment of activists. When Ingiphile Dlamini, a spokesperson for the pro-democracy group SWALIMO, learned of the deportations, he noted the government's complete silence on any agreement with the U.S. He raised a practical concern: Eswatini is a poor country that "may face significant strain in accommodating and managing individuals with complex backgrounds, particularly those with serious criminal convictions." No one knows what will happen to the five men, where they are being detained, or what risks they might pose to the local population.

The eight men sent to South Sudan weeks earlier remain in an even deeper fog. They spent weeks at a U.S. military base in Djibouti while courts considered whether the deportation was legal. The South Sudanese government has released no details of its agreement with the U.S., has not said where the men are, and has not disclosed what will become of them. A South Sudanese civil society leader pushed back against the characterization of his country as a receptacle for American problems, saying South Sudan is "not a dumping ground for criminals." The men arrived in early July to a nation still recovering from years of internal conflict.

This is not an isolated experiment. The Trump administration has already sent hundreds of Venezuelans and others to Costa Rica, El Salvador, and Panama. But Africa is now the target. Leaders from five West African nations met with President Trump at the White House last week, and migration and potential deportation agreements were discussed. Rwanda's foreign minister told the Associated Press that talks are underway about hosting deported migrants. Nigeria, which was not part of the White House meeting, has already rejected pressure from the U.S. to accept deportees who are not its own citizens. Analysts suggest some African nations might be willing to strike such deals in exchange for more favorable terms on tariffs, foreign aid, investment, and visa restrictions.

What remains unclear is whether the men being deported have any legal recourse, what protections exist for them in countries with no obligation to provide due process, and whether the receiving nations have the capacity or willingness to manage individuals with serious criminal histories. The secrecy surrounding these deportations—no names released, no details about agreements, no transparency about where people are or what happens next—suggests the administration views these transfers as administrative victories rather than matters requiring public scrutiny. For the men themselves, and for the countries receiving them, the consequences are only beginning to unfold.