Israel Centeno
In the span of a single week, the U.S. immigration system has laid bare a troubling duality. What some hailed as a triumph of the rule of law quickly unraveled into a display of selective protection, revealing a system that shields a few while exposing hundreds of thousands to danger. At the heart of this contradiction lies the Supreme Court —speaking in two voices, acting with two hands.
I. Due process for a few, abandonment for the many
On May 16, 2025, the Supreme Court blocked the Trump administration’s attempt to invoke the Alien Enemies Act of 1798 to summarily deport 176 Venezuelan migrants detained in Texas, accused without public evidence of belonging to the Tren de Aragua gang. The Court emphasized that even in cases involving alleged security threats, due process must be upheld —a reaffirmation of basic legal principles.
But just three days later, on May 19, the same Court —by a lopsided 8-1 vote— allowed the administration to revoke Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for over 350,000 Venezuelans, many of whom have lived legally in the U.S. for years. These individuals face forced return to a country that the U.S. government itself classifies as extremely dangerous, plagued by political repression, economic collapse, and systemic violence.
The contradiction is staggering: due process is fiercely defended for a handful of detainees accused of gang affiliation, while legal status is stripped en masse from hundreds of thousands who have committed no crime, and whose only transgression is having fled a collapsing state.
II. Afghanistan: another silent betrayal
The contradiction deepens with the decision to end TPS protections for roughly 14,600 Afghan nationals, effective July 14, 2025. These individuals fled after the Taliban’s return to power in 2021, seeking refuge from one of the most oppressive regimes in the world. Forcing them back amounts not only to a diplomatic failure, but a humanitarian one —sending people back into the arms of the very danger they escaped.
III. South Africa: a curious privilege
Meanwhile, on May 12, 2025, the Trump administration welcomed 59 white South Africans —mostly Afrikaners— under a fast-track refugee process. They cited racial discrimination and violence in South Africa, though these claims have been widely questioned by international observers and the South African government itself.
This move sparked outrage among faith groups and human rights advocates. The Episcopal Church of the United States suspended its cooperation with the refugee resettlement program, denouncing what it described as a racially and politically biased asylum process.
The contrast could not be more stark. While Venezuelans and Afghans are being told their protection is no longer valid —despite real, ongoing threats— a group of white South Africans are granted privileged access to the asylum system on the basis of contested claims.
IV. The Court speaks loudly —but in two tongues
In theory, justice is blind and consistent. In practice, the Court this week protected a small number of high-profile detainees, while abandoning hundreds of thousands to legal limbo and existential risk.
Only Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson dissented in the TPS decision, standing as a solitary voice of concern over the arbitrary and disproportionate removal of humanitarian protections. Her dissent reminds us of what’s at stake: not just legal status, but moral integrity.
When law becomes strategy
This week’s immigration decisions reveal more than just legal inconsistencies —they expose a political calculus masquerading as law. The U.S. is protecting some and discarding others, not based on need, but on optics, race, and ideology.
Refugee status is not being granted where the risk is greatest, but where the political symbolism is most convenient.
This is not law. This is strategy.
And in the shadow of this strategy, hundreds of thousands are left with nothing but fear and a closing door.
Justice must speak the same language to all.
This week, it whispered to the powerful —and shouted silence to the rest.
Centeno's Lighthouse 