The Department of Homeland Security shutdown has officially passed one month as lawmakers continue to debate limits on ICE’s use of force. Though we’ve arrived at this legislative standoff due to aggressive, and sometimes fatal, immigration enforcement actions in cities in our country’s interior, for communities along the U.S.–Mexico border, such abuses are nothing new. As I reveal through my academic research, immigration agents have operated with near-total impunity at the border for decades.
I uncovered patterns of excessive violence, coercion, and abuse at land ports of entry, through which more than 200 million people including workers, students, and visitors legally enter the U.S. every single year. The link between agents’ actions on the streets of American cities and the way they operate at the southern border is inevitable—yet something the current conversation about ICE and potential reforms overlooks.
Take Antonio for example, a Mexican student from Tijuana who I interviewed for my research. Antonio explained that he learned from a young age that he had to comply with Customs and Border Patrol’s (CBP) authority, even when the agents’ practices infringed on his rights: “Basically, my mother instilled in me from a young age how CBP officers could do anything. They can take away my visa, they can beat me up, they can throw tear gas at me, they can insult me, and we can’t do anything.”
When such misconduct occurs, agents often intimidate and retaliate against people who cross the border to discourage them from filing complaints. Commuters and migrants are coerced to remain compliant even in situations of clear abuse. That parallels tactics used against legal observers of immigration enforcers in U.S cities—approaches that have stirred outrage among Americans across the political spectrum.
But even when complaints are filed, the current system protects agents. Investigators for the American Immigration Council revealed that 97 percent of grievances filed by migrants after suffering abuse from Border Patrol agents resulted in “no action taken.” This impunity is also evident in the lack of accountability in cases of fatal shootings involving migrants and U.S. citizens, deadly and reckless Border Patrol vehicle pursuits under Texas’ Operation Lone Star, and cross-border shootings by Border Patrol against Mexicans.
Despite the prevalence of lethal force and abuse at the U.S.-Mexico borderlands, they rarely receive national attention—though they resemble agents’ aggressive approaches in Minnesota, Chicago, and elsewhere that have shocked the nation. Broadening the public’s and our lawmakers’ understanding of the violence committed by immigration enforcement agents is crucial to create much needed systemic change, not only in our cities but also at the border.
For instance, the recent documentary Critical Incident: Death at the Border, focuses on Border Patrol’s cover-up of the death of Anastasio Hernández Rojas, a long-time San Diego resident who was in custody at the San Ysidro Port of Entry. In 2010, Border Patrol agents brutally tortured, beat, and suffocated Rojas. These injuries left him brain-dead at a San Diego hospital, where he died from his injuries three days later.
To finally stop such abuses from happening at our border, structural reforms are needed. One place to start is to make it easier to file complaints when abuse occurs, ensure those complaints are taken seriously, and ensure misconduct investigations are fully transparent through CBP’s Office of Professional Responsibility. Meanwhile, in cities far from the border, it’s important to prohibit immigration enforcement agents from driving unmarked vehicles or wearing masks during their operations, which limits legal observers’ ability to identify and document civil and human rights violations.
But if lawmakers are truly invested in addressing ICE’s lethal practices, their vote should not further expand DHS’s already enormous budget, with the ultimate goal to defund and abolish ICE. The struggle of citizens killed in cities like Minneapolis is the struggle of the U.S.–Mexico borderlands, and vice versa.
Estefanía Castañeda Pérez, Ph.D., is an assistant professor at the Department of Political Science and International Relations at the University of Southern California. Her academic research examines border violence, race and ethnicity, and policing.
Border Communities Know ICE’s Impunity All Too Well was first published on Latino News Network and was republished with permission.




















A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.