For generations, foreign policy eggheads debated the question, “Who lost China?” I’m wondering if election analysts might soon ask, “Who lost the Latinos?”
Almost exactly one year ago, President Trump won an impressive election victory. It wasn’t the landslide his boosters claim, but it was decisive. And Trump’s record-breaking success with Latino voters played a crucial part.
In 2020, Joe Biden won Hispanics by nearly 2-to-1 (61 percent to 36 percent). Four years later, Trump nearly tied Vice President Kamala Harris for the Latino vote (Harris 51 percent, Trump 48 percent). He won Hispanic men by 10 points (54-44) — a 33-point swing in his favor from 2020, according to Edison Research. Along with an impressive showing with black men, the results led many Republicans to claim the GOP was reborn. “The Republican Party is now a multiethnic, multiracial coalition of hard-working Americans who love their country,” then-Sen. Marco Rubio proclaimed.
Here’s how Trump put it in his victory speech: “They came from … all quarters. Union, nonunion, African American, Hispanic American, Asian American, Arab American, Muslim American, we had everybody, and it was beautiful. It was a historic realignment. Uniting citizens of all backgrounds around a common core of common sense. You know, we’re the party of common sense.”
In typical fashion, Trump overstated things (Harris won 8 in 10 black votes and roughly 6 in 10 Asian votes, and union voters broke narrowly for Harris). Still, Trump had every reason to celebrate. Republicans have wanted to gain traction with Hispanic and black voters for decades, and Trump made serious inroads.
According to every poll, the overriding priority for Latino voters was the economy. COVID-19 and inflation hit working-class Latinos very hard, and nostalgia for the pre-pandemic Trump economy ran high. Trump’s immigration rhetoric focused on deporting criminal gangs and shutting down the border, which Latinos saw as common sense.
The Trump campaign’s most effective ad was a video of Harris vowing to support taxpayer-funded transgender surgeries for prison inmates and illegal immigrants in federal detention. The tagline: “She’s for they/them. President Trump is for you.”
The ad was controversial for being “anti-trans,” but that wasn’t its appeal. It was the message that Harris cared too much about boutique ideological activist causes, not the “common sense” concerns of regular voters.
Fast forward one year, and Latinos are in a very different place than they hoped. For the first time, a majority of Latinos (65 percent) say it’s a “ bad time” to be Latino in America (though only 38 percent of Republican Latinos agree). Slightly more than half say they fear for their physical safety and believe that all Latinos — regardless of citizenship status — are targets of Trump’s deportation efforts.
In the recent off-year elections, Latinos swung massively back toward Democrats, more than erasing GOP gains a year ago. It’s worth noting that these voters still said that their top concern was the economy, not Trump’s immigration policies. Though one does wonder how many voters, worried about being wrongly detained, didn’t risk showing up at the polls.
In the modern era, the single biggest mistake political parties make is overreading the election returns. The Trump-led GOP is particularly guilty. Every time Trump does something outrageous, self-indulgent, or just weird, his biggest fans declare, “I voted for this.”
That may be true for them, but it’s not true for the majority-making swing voters who took a flier on Trump based on economic concerns or frustration with Democrats. When a Latino truck driver sees video of a Latino teacher arrested at a daycare, it doesn’t take a genius to understand he’s probably not saying, “This is what I voted for.” Ditto the endless pardons of crooked cronies, the surprise demolition of the East Wing, or the tariff-driven chaos working its way through the economy.
Trump’s pride in the diversity of his coalition was understandable, but it didn’t account for the fact his coalition was diverse in its reasons for voting for him. Not every Trump voter is a MAGA diehard. The “I voted for this” crowd isn’t a majority. The rest increasingly feel like he’s for him not us — which is why Trump’s approval rating is in “free fall.”
The Trump-pushed redistricting effort in Texas was based on the idea that working-class Latinos were as locked-in for Trump as the billionaire attendees of his Great Gatsby party at Mar-a-Lago. If current trends continue — still a big if — Democrats could gain Texas seats in the midterms. One in 5 Texas Latinos who voted for Trump say they regret it.
The debate over “Who lost the Latinos?” is looming on the horizon, though it won’t be hard to answer.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.
Demonstrators rally outside the U.S. Supreme Court as justices hear oral arguments on whether President Donald Trump can deny citizenship to children born to parents who are in the United States illegally or temporarily, on Capitol Hill, in Washington, Wednesday, April 1, 2026. (AP Photo/Mariam Zuhaib)
Luz Angela Nuñez with her daughter Aisha Quershi Nuñez at their home in College Point, Queens. Photo: Mia Anzalone for Documented.
Kimberly Alvarez, 25, with her daughter Evangeline and her husband John Alvarez in Medellin, Colombia. Photo courtesy of Kimberly Alvarez.Alvarez arrived in New York City in February 2024 with her husband John Alvarez as asylum seekers from Venezuela. In April 2025, Alvarez found out she was pregnant with her first child, a baby girl. Her first reaction, she said, was fear.“How am I going to keep her alive?” she said. “That’s what I was thinking. ‘How am I going to be able to take care of her?’”At the beginning of Alvarez’s pregnancy, she said she was aware of the immigration enforcement occurring around the country, but vowed not to let it deter her from showing up to her doctor’s appointments.“When you went out, you were always on alert because you didn’t know if [ICE] might be around. I never saw anything suspicious,” Alvarez said. “But of course, you feel scared.”In October, when Alvarez was six months pregnant, her husband was detained by ICE agents at 26 Federal Plaza. When the immediate shock wore off, she obsessively checked the Online Detainee Locator System to find out where her husband went. A day later, she discovered that he was being kept at Delaney Hall detention center in New Jersey. Alvarez quickly set up an account to pay for phone calls, and every two days, she would pay about $10 for a one-hour call, updating her husband about the baby, her appointments and how she was doing.“Crying was the only way for me to release the tension,” said Alvarez, who worried that her lack of sleep and bad diet were impacting her baby. “Crying was the only way for me to release the tension.”—Kimberly AlvarezThat tension built up day by day, week by week following her husband’s arrest. Alvarez had stopped her work as a cleaner in the neighborhood’s synagogues two weeks before her husband’s detention because of her pregnancy. The plan, she said, was to rely solely on his income as a maintenance worker for “the food, the rent, everything.” Left with few choices, Kimberley had to rely on her mother’s income as a cleaner. The older woman had moved to New York from North Carolina to assist with Alvarez’s pregnancy. “I feel like I’m supposed to help my mom, not the other way around,” Alvarez said. “I felt powerless because I couldn’t do anything.”On Dec. 9, Alvarez gave birth to a daughter, Evangeline. While her baby was healthy, Alvarez’s anxieties did not go away. While she returned to cleaning synagogues a few months after Evangeline’s birth to help make ends meet, Alvarez and her daughter rarely left home. Alvarez said she felt paralyzed, getting frequent alerts from a neighborhood WhatsApp group when ICE was spotted nearby. One day, she said, ICE arrested her friend’s husband in Sunset Park, in an area where she would sometimes take Evangeline for walks.“I’m so afraid that I’ll go out and run into one of them and that they’ll take her away from me,” Alvarez said. “That’s my biggest fear, that someone will take her away from me and I won’t know where my daughter is.”In March, her husband decided to voluntarily remove himself from the United States and move back to Colombia, where he is originally from. It was a family decision, but it was not a happy one — hiring immigration lawyers was too expensive, Alvarez said, adding that staying in the U.S. felt too uncertain.