It was just an ordinary day for Carlos Navarro as he sat outside a Virginia restaurant enjoying some takeout. Little did he know, his life was about to take a dramatic turn. The 32-year-old Guatemalan, who had lived in the United States for 11 years and worked in poultry plants, found himself suddenly surrounded by immigration officers. They informed him that there was an order for his removal from the country. Navarro didn’t have a criminal record—or, as he put it, “Absolutely nothing.” Yet, within days, he was on a plane back to Guatemala, a place he hadn’t called home in over a decade.
This heart-wrenching moment might just be a preview of what’s coming under one of the largest deportation efforts in U.S. history. President Trump’s administration has promised sweeping action against unauthorized immigrants, triggering both fear and uncertainty among the 14 million undocumented people estimated to live in the United States. Trump made his ambitions clear during his inauguration speech, vowing to “return millions and millions of criminal aliens back to the places from which they came.” The operation now looms large over immigrant communities and the countries that will absorb these massive waves of returning citizens.
### Guatemala at the Center of the Storm
While many nations are bracing for the surge, Guatemala’s position is particularly precarious. As one of the most significant sources of unauthorized U.S. immigrants—around 675,000 undocumented Guatemalans lived in the U.S. in 2022, per the Pew Research Center—it serves as a microcosm of what these mass deportations mean for Latin America. With its turbulent history marred by civil war and ongoing challenges like poverty, gang violence, and climate change, Guatemala’s resources have long been stretched thin.
Already, the country receives about seven deportation flights weekly from the U.S., totaling around 1,000 people. Guatemala’s government has communicated its capacity to manage up to 20 weekly flights if deportations escalate—but even that preparation comes with significant challenges. President Bernardo Arévalo’s administration has devised a plan dubbed “Return Home,” aimed at making deportees’ reentry as humane and constructive as possible. The strategy includes help from Guatemalan consulates in the U.S., a “dignified reception” upon deportee arrival, and efforts to reintegrate them into the social and economic fabric of their homeland.
The complexities, however, are immense. Guatemala’s foreign minister, Carlos Ramiro Martínez, is acutely aware of the fear gripping undocumented Guatemalans in the United States. “They’re living with immense fear,” he said. “As the government, we can’t just say, ‘Look, we’re also scared for you.’ We have to do something.”
### A Blueprint for a New Beginning
Guatemala’s reintegration plan goes beyond the immediate logistical concerns of housing or feeding deportees. The government intends to thoroughly interview returnees as they step off the planes to understand their backgrounds, skills, and emotional needs. The ultimate goal? Find ways to connect them with job opportunities and offer mental health support to process the trauma of deportation.
Some see this as a proactive move to placate expectations from the Trump administration, which has hinted that Latin American governments should work to keep deported citizens from returning to the U.S. Historically, deportation has often just been a temporary setback for many migrants, with border crossings becoming somewhat of a revolving door. In 2020, about 40% of deportations involved individuals who had previously been deported, according to the U.S. Department of Homeland Security. Guatemala hopes to break this cycle by turning its deported citizens into an economic asset.
That idea isn’t entirely hypothetical. Experts like Anita Isaacs, who helped shape Guatemala’s plan, believe there’s enormous potential in welcoming deportees with open arms rather than seeing them as burdens. One example she cites is a group of Guatemalans deported after a 2008 immigration raid on an Iowa meatpacking plant. They leveraged their skills and retrained to become volcano guides, turning their deportations into a fresh start in the country they once left behind.
### Overcoming Deep-Seated Challenges
Despite the optimism, the reality for many deportees is grim. The same systemic forces that pushed them to the U.S. in the first place—grinding poverty, lack of jobs, threats from gangs, and limited opportunities—still exist in Guatemala. Moreover, the lure of the U.S. remains powerful. Life there not only offers financial stability but also the promise of higher wages in dollars.
This dynamic has created a particularly desperate situation for some. Many deportees, especially those who migrated illegally, have accumulated crushing debts to smugglers. Families often pledge their land or homes as collateral, leaving deportees with no property to return to if they fail to stay in the U.S. “They can’t come back anymore,” lamented the Rev. Francisco Pellizzari, who runs Casa del Migrante, a shelter for deportees in Guatemala City.
Adding to the challenge, smugglers (also known as coyotes) have adapted to tighter U.S. border controls. They now offer migrants packages that include up to three attempts to enter the country for one flat fee. For someone like 18-year-old José Manuel Jochola, who was deported after being apprehended in Texas, this means he’s contractually entitled to two more chances. He admitted he might try again soon—though he’s keeping a close eye on Trump’s evolving deportation policies.
### The Pull of Family and Opportunity
For many deportees, the strongest motivation to head back to the U.S. is their families. Navarro, who was deported from Virginia, said his wife and son are his priority. “I have to go back,” he asserted. Similarly, Neida Vásquez Esquivel, a 20-year-old on Navarro’s flight, revealed that this was her fourth deportation while attempting to reunite with her parents in New Jersey. Her resolve remained unshaken—another attempt was not off the table.
Still, for some Guatemalans, the risks and challenges of returning to the U.S. are starting to outweigh the benefits. Take José Moreno, a 26-year-old who had spent a decade in Boston before being deported after a drunken-driving accident. Now back in Guatemala, Moreno sees a chance to rebuild. Fluent in English, he plans to work as a tour guide in Petén, a region of Guatemala known for its scenic beauty and Mayan ruins. His renewed focus on life in Guatemala resonates with his current sense of contentment. “My parents are here, I have everything here,” he said. “Why would I go back?”
### The Future of Migration
The Trump administration’s crackdown on unauthorized immigration has already had ripple effects. Stricter border controls and the threat of swift deportation have dampened illegal border crossings considerably. In November 2020, the U.S. recorded around 46,000 illegal crossings, the lowest monthly figure during the Biden administration. However, the effectiveness of such measures in creating a sustainable long-term solution remains debatable.
Guatemala’s reintegration plan is bold and forward-thinking, but its success will largely depend on addressing the deep-rooted causes of migration—poverty, lack of opportunity, and safety concerns. It also faces the monumental challenge of persuading deportees to stay in Guatemala when reuniting with family members in the U.S. feels like an unshakable dream.
What’s clear is that the issue is more complex than just planes leaving the U.S. filled with deportees. It’s also about what greets those individuals upon arrival—and whether their home countries are truly ready to provide what they need to thrive. While the prospects for some deportees like José Moreno seem hopeful, others, like Carlos Navarro and Neida Vásquez, remain undeterred in their quest to return. For now, the revolving door of migration continues to spin, even as both nations wrestle with its implications.
