Garcia is an assistant professor of sociology at Yale University, specializing in international migration from Latin America. He is a public voices fellow with The OpEd Project.
Immigration, especially that of undocumented migrants, is a key issue — perhaps the key issue — in the presidential race.
Despite the Biden administration's efforts to strengthen border security, the Trump campaign has taken a more extreme stance. Former President Donald Trump has spent months on the campaign trail pushing for mass deportations, proposing to deport an unprecedented 22 million people. This would severely impact migrant communities and the U.S. economy. Rhetoric aside, however, such an effort is condemned to fail from the start because of — ironically — one deeply rooted American value: family.
I am a researcher who has spent the last decade studying the movement of migrants through Mexico toward the United States. In this time, I have had the opportunity to meet hundreds of Central Americans moving northward toward the U.S. Some of the migrants I met had already lived in the U.S., been deported or chosen to leave, and were headed back again (sometimes for the second, third and fourth times).
These migrants had suffered countless terrible experiences. They’d spent time lost in the Arizona desert, nearly drowned in the Rio Grande, been kidnapped by drug cartels in Mexico, suffered hunger, faced deadly violence and walked thousands of miles. Despite all these dangers lying between them and the United States, they were headed back again (and again) for one primary reason: to get back to the families they had left behind.
For example, in 2015, I interviewed a man from El Salvador. At that time, he had been out of the United States for nearly a year, and had been deported three times from Mexico and once from the U.S. border when trying to enter California. When I asked him why he kept trying to get to the U.S., he explained: “I have a wife and three young daughters waiting for me in the United States.” He had lived in the U.S. for years, but after being stopped for speeding, he was deported to El Salvador. Ever since, he had been attempting to return.
When I asked if he feared the increased border policing, he said, "I'm not afraid. My life is there. I'm like Speedy Gonzales — small, fast and always escaping. No matter how much they try, I'll get away because my family is there." For the many migrants like him, there is no other option but to keep trying.
This strength and resilience of families — their desire to be together, to live their lives —are sufficient to thwart Trump's plans to deport 22 million undocumented migrants because, simply put, deported migrants will find a way to make it back. Of course, a combination of massive deportations at the border and from the interior of the United States would wreak havoc on family structures, the economy, and the nation’s social fabric. Still, families and communities would organize, move resources and mobilize to bring back the people they love, just as they always have.
Yes, for many Americans, immigration is a top concern in this election cycle. And deportation is the easy answer that, on the surface, looks like the obvious solution. But if we want order and control at the border, attacking families simply won’t work. The idea of mass deportation is not new — America has tried it since passage of the 1965 Immigration Act, and studies show it has never worked.
Instead, we must push politicians for more creative solutions that take into account and learn from our previous mistakes. Instead of thinking immigration as an issue of deportation, we have to think about it through the axis of inclusion, and recognition.
While calls for mass deportation are sure to fail, a more balanced approach to dealing with undocumented immigration would offer new pathways to legalization for undocumented immigrants (such as the parents of U.S. citizens) and open additional pathways for circular migration, where migrants could benefit from working in the U.S. for a period without having to permanently relocate to the United States. Such a solution might work.
What will not work is the mass deportation of parents, siblings, spouses, children, friends, neighbors and community members, who are destined to return to the U.S. through pure resilience (and to suffer greatly in doing so). And while Trump’s policies have constantly sought to dehumanize immigrants, in fact, his proposed deportation will fail because family ties and the desire to be with loved ones, despite dangers, are aspects of humanity at its best.



















image of U.S. President Donald Trump is displayed on a digital billboard in Times Square in New York on April 8, 2026.
Trump is stuck between two realities. Neither serves the American people
Normally, I worry that events may overtake a column. But not so with the Iran war.
I don’t worry about running afoul of a headline or Truth Social post from the president because what is said about the situation is no longer very relevant to the reality.
On April 8, Nick Catoggio, my Dispatch colleague, dubbed an earlier stoppage with Iran “Schrödinger’s ceasefire.” This was a reference to the famous thought experiment by the physicist Erwin Schrödinger, who was trying to explain the weirdness of “superpositionality” in quantum physics. A cat in a box is both dead and alive at the same time until you open the box. Schrödinger meant to illustrate the absurdity of the idea that particles aren’t any one thing, but a “cloud of probabilities.”
The Trump administration is stuck in a word cloud of probabilities of his own making. The war is over. The war is on. The war isn’t a war. We have a deal, but we don’t have a deal, but we’re about to have a deal. We destroyed Iran’s military. No, we left it intact. We want regime change. No we don’t. We already accomplished it. We “obliterated” Iran’s nuclear program a year ago. We had to go to war in February to prevent nuclear war. The Strait of Hormuz is open, closed, or something in-between. No deal without “unconditional surrender.” Let’s make a deal!
This everything-all-at-once vibe can be disorienting, particularly since most Americans didn’t have a war with Iran on their bingo cards until the shooting had already started. President Trump didn’t prepare the country or consult with Congress beforehand because he thought it would all be a smashing success in a matter of weeks.
The miscalculation that started it all: killing Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and much of Iran’s senior leadership, on the first day of the war. To “the great proud people of Iran, I say tonight that the hour of your freedom is at hand,” Trump announced on Feb. 28. “When we are finished, take over your government. It will be yours to take. This will be probably your only chance for generations.”
I support regime change in Iran and shed no tears for Khamenei or his goons. But when you start a war by killing the regime’s top leaders, it’s not unreasonable for the remaining ones to conclude that you really intend regime change.
Khamenei was a murderous fanatic, but he was a fairly cautious one. He liked to threaten closing the Strait of Hormuz or attacking our regional allies, but he was reluctant to actually do it, fearing it would invite a regime change war. The mullahs and IRGC goons believed, not unreasonably, that if they lost their grip on power, they’d be lynched by the Iranian people they’ve brutalized for decades.
By starting with a regime change war, Trump removed any reason for the regime not to go for broke. When you have nothing to lose — particularly when you are a millenarian religious fanatic — a Persian Alamo strategy makes a lot of sense.
So Iran closed the Strait of Hormuz and attacked its neighbors.
But it turns out this wasn’t the Alamo. In the contest of wills, Trump blinked. The Iranian regime’s tolerance for punishment proved — so far — to be greater than Trump’s and that of our gulf allies. Militarily we could finish the job, but that would require ground troops and much greater economic turmoil. In a conflict Trump launched unilaterally without the prior support of Congress, NATO or the American people, Trump doesn’t have the political capital for that.
But that’s only half the problem. Trump wants the war over, but he doesn’t want to pay — militarily, economically, politically — what that would cost. So he wants to make a deal that ends it. But there is no deal available that wouldn’t come at an equally undesirable cost. Any deal that looks like what President Obama struck with the Iranians would be too embarrassing to bear. But the Iranians are convinced that they can get just such a deal, and they’re willing to drag things out as long as it takes.
The result: Trump’s in a box of his own making. He thinks he can talk his way out by simply asserting a reality that doesn’t exist. When the financial markets get nervous, he announces a breakthrough that is, at best, a possibility. When the Iranians agree to a deal that looks similar to one Obama might negotiate, Trump goes back to his threats.
It can’t go on forever. But I’m sure it’ll last until long after this column is forgotten.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.