Deportation Showdown: How the U.S. Legal System Becomes Toothless in the Face of an Authoritarian President
Before assuming office again in 2025, Donald Trump was entangled in an unprecedented web of legal troubles. He faced four major criminal cases: he as convicted by a jury of his peers in New York on 34 felony counts of falsifying business records,, a grand jury indictment him in Georgia for his efforts to overturn the results of the 2020 presidential election, he was investigated by a Special Counsel at the federal level for obstructing the transfer of power and spreading false claims of election fraud, and he was also charged with mishandling classified documents. In total, Trump had been indicted on 91 criminal counts across federal and state jurisdictions.
Yet, in the absence of a clearly enforceable constitutional bar, none of those 91 criminal counts could prevent him from becoming the 47th president of the United States. Americans, frustrated by uneven economic growth, persistent inflation, an escalating humanitarian crisis at the southern border, and global instability, propelled him back into office with a decisive victory in both the popular vote and the Electoral College. His return to power was not just a reflection of political resilience — it was a damning indictment of the justice system’s inability to hold him accountable. And just as he had evaded legal consequences before, his presidency is now “unbound” by a Supreme Court ruling that has effectively removed the meaningful constraints on his authority.
Trump v. United States: A President Above the Law
In Trump v. United States, the Supreme Court ruled that a president enjoys absolute immunity for actions within the "core" of official duties and presumptive immunity for acts within the “outer perimeter” of presidential responsibilities. This decision didn’t just shield Trump from legal repercussions — it gave him a roadmap to unchecked executive power. Justice Sonia Sotomayor’s dissent was blunt in its warning: “The president is now a king above the law.”
With this ruling, the Court effectively redefined the limits of executive authority, or rather, erased them. While past presidents may have exercised restraint out of deference to democratic norms (also known as “forbearance”), the Trump administration has wasted no time in testing just how far it can push its newfound authority.
Trump’s invocation of the Alien Enemies Act
Now, the consequences of the Court’s decision are unfolding in real-time.
Invoking the Alien Enemies Act of 1798, Trump has ordered the mass deportation of Venezuelans whom his administration claims are affiliated with the transnational criminal organization Tren de Aragua - an organization that the Trump administration has designated as a foreign terrorist organization. This obscure law, originally intended to prevent espionage and sabotage during wartime, gives the president sweeping authority to detain or deport nationals of enemy states.
Historically, the Alien Enemies Act has been wielded in moments of national paranoia: against British nationals during the War of 1812, against Germans and Austro-Hungarians in World War I, and against Japanese, Germans, and Italians in World War II. Its most infamous use came during the presidency of Franklin D. Roosevelt, when it served as a legal pretext for the internment of Japanese-Americans following the attack on Pearl Harbor. Trump’s invocation of the law marks the most aggressive use of its powers in the modern era.
Last week, 260 Venezuelans were deported from the United States, 137 of them under the authority provided by the Alien Enemies Act. The deportees were sent to El Salvador, where President Nayib Bukele’s authoritarian government paraded them through his notorious “terrorism confinement center,” a prison internationally condemned for human rights abuses. There, they were publicly humiliated—frogmarched, manhandled, and subjected to harsh treatment—as Bukele flaunted their suffering as a display of his iron-fisted rule.
In the days following these deportations, Venezuelan families and the deportees’ legal representatives have demanded their release, arguing that Trump’s order targeted individuals based not on verified criminal activity but rather on their nationality and superficial indicators such as tattoos — evidence that U.S. immigration authorities interpreted as signs of gang affiliation.
The Judiciary’s Powerlessness Exposed
Had the judiciary had its way, the deportations would not have happened.
As the planes took off, Federal District Judge James E. Boasberg issued an order halting the deportations. The Trump administration openly defied the judge’s order.
The justification for the administration’s defiance of Boasberg’s order was as flimsy as it was revealing. Deputy Associate Attorney General Abhishek Kambli claimed that the administration had not technically violated the judge’s directive since, according to the Trump Department of Justice, the verbal order was not binding until it was formally written. Meanwhile, Trump’s Border Czar, Tom Homan, outright dismissed the idea that the courts had any authority over the executive’s deportation decisions, declaring, “I don’t care what the judges think.” Adding insult to injury, Salvadoran President Bukele took to X (formerly Twitter) to mock the U.S. justice system, responding to a New York Post article about the judge’s order with a taunting message: “Oopsie… too late.” When Judge Boasberg convened a hearing to determine whether the administration had violated his order, Kambli refused to answer questions, citing “national security concerns.”
This moment was revealing, not just for what it said about the Trump administration - that is has no intention of respecting judicial authority - but also for what it confirmed about the judiciary: it has no power to enforce its rulings against an executive that refuses to be constrained.
Hence, the powerlessness of the legal system becomes undeniable. A president, empowered by a Supreme Court ruling that vastly expanded his legal immunity, had directly defied a federal judge’s order. And there were no consequences.
This crisis brings into sharp relief the fundamental weakness of the judiciary—one that Alexander Hamilton identified in Federalist No. 78. Hamilton described the judiciary as “the least dangerous branch” because, unlike Congress, which controls the purse, or the executive, which wields the sword, the courts possess only judgment and must rely on the other branches to enforce their rulings. The system was designed with the expectation that presidents would respect the rule of law and that Congress would act as a check on executive power.
But what happens when a president no longer respects judicial authority? What happens when the executive refuses to comply with court orders, and Congress lacks the political will to intervene? Hamilton assumed that the judiciary’s greatest strength was its legitimacy - its ability to shape legal and constitutional boundaries through persuasion rather than force. But legitimacy means nothing when the president openly ignores the courts and faces no repercussions.
The Trump Administration Knows Exactly What It’s Doing
To understand the significance of Trump v. United States, it is essential to revisit the legal arguments advanced by the Bush administration in the early years of the War on Terror.
In 2002, John Yoo, then a lawyer in the Office of Legal Counsel, authored a now-infamous memo arguing that the Department of Justice could not prosecute individuals involved in the “enhanced interrogation” of suspected terrorist since they acted in accordance with the president’s constitutional powers. The logic was simple yet profoundly dangerous: if the president orders it, it is not illegal. This rationale became the foundation for justifying torture and other legally dubious wartime policies in the “forever war” against terrorism.
Now, in Trump v. United States, the Supreme Court has codified and expanded this presidential prerogative. While the Court did not completely eliminate judicial review, it dramatically weakened mechanisms of accountability, particularly when it comes to executive actions in matters of national security. If we follow the logic of the ruling, Trump’s legal argument is straightforward:
Immigration enforcement is a core executive function under the Take Care Clause, making the president’s decisions immune from judicial “meddling”.
Under the “unitary executive theory,” the president has plenary power over foreign affairs and national security, further shielding his actions from scrutiny.
Judicial intervention in these areas becomes an unconstitutional encroachment on executive discretion.
In practice, this means that not only can Trump deport individuals under dubious legal pretenses, but that courts may lack the authority to stop him, even when they try.
Trump Moves to Punish Judges Who Oppose Him
Trump’s defiance of Boasberg’s order is not an isolated act - it is part of a broader effort of neutering judicial oversight entirely. Since the confrontation, Trump has called for Boasberg’s impeachment, attacking him on social media as a “troublemaker and agitator.” In a post on his social media platform, the president ranted: “This judge, like many of the Crooked Judges I am forced to appear before, should be IMPEACHED!!!”
In response, Chief Justice John Roberts issued a rare rebuke, stating: “For more than two centuries, it has been established that impeachment is not an appropriate response to disagreement concerning a judicial decision.”
But Trump does not care about precedent or constitutional norms. His war on the judiciary much like his war on the foundation of American constitutional democracy is not about legal reasoning - it is about consolidating power.
Judicial Precedents
Trump’s defiance of a federal court order is not an anomaly. It is part of Trump’s broadside assault on constitional government. It is also a test case for further challenges to judicial authority.
Immigration, in particular, provides an ideal arena to further entrench executive unilateralism. The Supreme Court has long upheld broad executive discretion over immigration policy, shielding presidents from legal constraints:
In Chae Chan Ping v. U.S. (1889), the Court ruled that immigration control is a sovereign function, largely beyond judicial review.
In Knauff v. Shaughnessy (1950), the Court held that the executive had broad discretion in excluding noncitizens without regard to due process considerations.
In Trump v. Hawaii (2018), the justicies upheld Trump’s Muslim Ban, reinforcing presidential control over immigration under national security pretexts.
Finally, DHS v. Thuraissigiam (2020) limited asylum seekers’ due process rights, strengthening fast-track deportations.
Trump is building upon these precedents to “securitize” immigration, framing it as a national security treaty. Much the same was as Bush used the War on Terror to bypass legal constraints and create a “terror presidency” with vastly expanded powers in foreign and national security matters; Trump is framing immigration as a national security issue, and testing just how far he can go without judicial interference or ignore judicial rulings without meaningful pushback.
The Takeaway: Trump is Proing the Justice System Powerless
The justice system failed to hold Trump accountable before he took office. It is failing again now.
With an ultra-conservative Supreme Court, a compliant Congress, and legal immunity codified in Trump v. United States, there are no meaningful checks on his power. The courts, even those that disapprove of Trump’s policies, are being exposed as toothless in this constitutional showdown. This is how democratic erosion happens - not through a single, dramatic coup, but through the steady dismantling of institutions meant to constrain power.
Trump ignored the courts once, and nothing happened. Will the courts be able to exercise their power as a coequal branch when the president decides to push even further?
