GUATEMALA CITY — Margarita Raymundo stepped off the U.S. Air Force cargo plane and onto the tarmac of Guatemala City’s airport, merely three days after being detained by a U.S. Border Patrol agent along with three other migrants. The rapidity of her deportation on Monday left her and the 63 other deportees disoriented. This event was made possible through the Trump administration’s utilization of military aircraft to enhance its deportation process, which usually depends on charter flights.
During the initial week of President Donald Trump’s second term, the Department of Homeland Security reported that approximately 7,300 individuals from various nationalities were expelled. Raymundo recounted that the Border Patrol agent who detained her, just a short five-minute walk from a pickup point en route to the U.S., warned her of the expedited deportation process and cautioned her that any subsequent apprehension could lead to a five-year prison sentence.
The sight of U.S. military aircraft arriving in Latin America raises alarms in a region familiar with the implications of past U.S. military involvement, particularly when the planes are returning citizens in handcuffs. Recently, Colombian President Gustavo Petro prohibited two U.S. military planes filled with deportees from landing in his country. Instead, Colombian air force planes were dispatched to the U.S. to retrieve the deported nationals, following serious diplomatic discussions and a tariff threat from Trump.
In a contrasting stance, Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum emphasized that four flights arriving at Mexico City’s airport bearing deportees had been operated by civilian means. In contrast, Guatemala has not expressed any public objections, hosting at least three U.S. military flights with deportees in the past week. “We cannot refuse them, and it is our obligation to receive the migrants,” stated Danilo Rivera, the head of Guatemala’s Immigration Institute.
On the other hand, Jorge Santos, a representative of the Human Rights Convergence—a Guatemalan coalition—argued that deportations should solely be managed by civilian authorities and condemned the usage of military planes. He also voiced concern regarding the shackling of deportees which can occur even on civilian charter flights run by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. “The presence of shackles should not exist in such situations; there should be no chaining of arms and legs, nor should military forces intervene in actions that ought to be entirely civilian,” said Santos.
Lesly Ramírez, who was aboard the same flight as Raymundo, described how her handcuffs were painfully tight. Although food was made available on the plane, she shared that it was a struggle to eat with hands bound to their waists. The handcuffs were removed just before landing. Ramírez, 35, a mother of two, had attempted to enter the U.S. by climbing over the border fence and had only been walking for two hours before the Border Patrol apprehended her.
“We’re all human beings,” she expressed. “We were going to work; we’re not criminals.” Raymundo shared similar sentiments. The 21-year-old felt heartbroken over her unsuccessful attempt to enter the U.S., especially considering what it meant for her and her family. As an Indigenous Maya Chalchiteca, her family had gathered $25,000 in loans to pay her smuggler, and she feared that she could never repay this debt back home in Guatemala.
With a restaurant job already lined up in the U.S., Raymundo’s determination remained steadfast. “I have one more chance to go, and I will try,” she said through tears, reflecting on how smugglers often offer multiple attempts. She embarked on her journey to the U.S. in hopes of improving her family’s financial situation. “I left Guatemala to give them a better life,” she stated with resolve.
