INVESTIGATION: 13 Countries Without TPS — A Roadmap for a Targeted Immigration Policy

Judge Chen and Racial Discrimination

Federal Judge Edward M. Chen of the Northern District of California has become the central figure in judicial resistance to TPS terminations. In his March 2025 order on the Venezuelan case, Chen found evidence that the termination was arbitrary and motivated by racial animus. “Acting on the basis of a negative group stereotype and generalizing that stereotype to the entire group is the classic example of racism,” he wrote. More specifically, Chen found evidence of discriminatory animus on the part of President Trump himself, and that “his intent and actions were directly linked to the actions taken by Secretary Noem.”

The evidence reviewed by Judge Chen included, among other things, a 2024 social media post by Noem in which she claimed that Venezuela “had emptied its prisons and sent criminals to America.” It also included Trump’s repeated statements labeling immigrants as “criminals” and “terrorists” who “poison the blood of our country,” as well as excerpts from campaign speeches in which Trump had said, referring to immigrants: “And we have to live with these animals, but we’re not going to live with them for long—just watch,” according to documents cited in court records compiled by Bloomberg Law in May 2025.

New Evidence on Haiti: A “Predetermined” Decision

On June 17, 2026, attorneys for Haitian TPS beneficiaries filed a motion with the U.S. Supreme Court seeking to dismiss the case, citing newly discovered DHS documents. These documents, according to the motion, “provide additional evidence that the decision to terminate Haiti’s TPS was a predetermined outcome motivated by discriminatory animus.” More seriously, career DHS officials had recommended not terminating Haiti’s TPS status but were overruled by a political appointee who issued an “unusual, last-minute verbal directive” ordering them to abandon their recommendation. DHS also failed to obtain the required consultation with the State Department before making its decision.

According to NPR, whose reporter Nina Totenberg covered this motion on June 17, 2026, during oral arguments in April before the Supreme Court, Solicitor General John Sauer himself acknowledged, under pressure from Justice Amy Coney Barrett, that the courts could examine allegations of racial discrimination in such decisions. Attorney Geoffrey Pipoly, representing the Haitian beneficiaries, stated: “He promised to end TPS for Haiti, and that is exactly what happened.”

When even a Trump-appointed Solicitor General is forced to admit that courts can examine allegations of racism, it becomes clear that the administration’s legal argument is, in reality, very fragile. This is not a matter of good faith—it is a matter of what the evidence shows, and here the evidence is devastating.

Signals from April 2026

On April 29, 2026, the U.S. Supreme Court heard oral arguments in the consolidated cases of Trump v. Miot and Mullin v. Doe, concerning Haitian and Syrian TPS, respectively. The signals sent by the conservative majority were cause for concern for the plaintiffs. Chief Justice John Roberts emphasized that federal courts lack jurisdiction to review TPS decisions. Justice Amy Coney Barrett expressed skepticism about the plaintiffs’ procedural argument. Justice Samuel Alito questioned whether the challengers could prevail if the Court interprets the TPS provision in line with its precedents.

Meanwhile, the liberal justices countered by raising the issue of racial animus. Justice Sonia Sotomayor cited Trump’s remarks describing Haiti as a “repugnant,” “dirty,” and “disgusting” country, his implicit comparisons between non-white immigrants and Norwegians, and his accusations that immigrants “poison the blood” of America. Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson questioned the Solicitor General about how the Court could ignore these statements, particularly Trump’s claims during the 2024 campaign that Haitian migrants in Springfield, Ohio, were eating residents’ pets. A decision is expected in late June or early July 2026, according to the Minnesota Lawyer and the Boston Globe.

What the Venezuelan Precedent Has Already Established

The Supreme Court has already ruled in favor of the administration in the Venezuelan case on two occasions: on May 19, 2025, and then on October 3, 2025, in brief, unmotivated orders. These orders allowed the administration to revoke TPS for approximately 300,000 Venezuelans while the substantive litigation continued. Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson wrote a dissenting opinion in October 2025, arguing that the government had not demonstrated an urgent need for the Supreme Court’s intervention. Justices Sotomayor and Kagan had also indicated that they would have denied the administration’s request. The precedent is dangerous: a ruling in favor of the administration in the Haitian and Syrian cases could affect all 1.3 million current TPS beneficiaries.

A conservative-majority Supreme Court—six justices to three liberals—considering an immigration policy on which the majority has already signaled its sympathy for the executive branch: I find it hard to see how TPS holders could emerge victorious. What worries me is that the unmotivated orders in the Venezuela case are setting an unwritten precedent—a way of acting without having to explain why. This is exactly the institutional logic that Trump criticizes in his opponents, and which he replicates when it suits him.

Springfield, Ohio: A Microcosm of a National Crisis

The city of Springfield, Ohio—with a population of about 60,000—has become the unwitting symbol of the Haitian TPS crisis. Some 15,000 Haitians have settled there, providing a workforce that the local community needed. Between 2021 and 2022, the arrival of these new residents generated $9.2 million in tax revenue for the city. However, during the 2024 presidential campaign, Trump and his running mate JD Vance spread unsubstantiated claims that Haitian migrants were stealing and eating residents’ animals—a rumor denied by local authorities but widely circulated and never retracted.

Since the revocation of Haitian TPS, the city has suffered a double blow. Clark County has lost $4.25 million in federal funding, including $2.7 million from a Department of Health and Human Services grant for critical illnesses. The Springfield metropolitan area lost more than 1,000 jobs between 2024 and 2025—more than any other area in Ohio. The city’s tax revenue plummeted from $9.2 million to $3 million between the 2021–2022 and 2023–2025 fiscal years, according to Mother Jones.

Lives in Limbo, with No Visible Way Out

Since February 3, 2026—the date on which Haitian TPS was set to expire—more than 330,000 Haitians living in the United States have been in legal limbo, temporarily protected by court orders but with no certainty about their future. In March 2026, the driver’s licenses of Haitian TPS recipients in Ohio expired and could not be renewed. As of June 5, 2026, the federal government had stopped issuing work permits and processing asylum applications not only for Haitians but also for nationals of 38 other countries in Latin America, Asia, and Africa, as well as for Palestine—before a federal judge in Rhode Island blocked this policy.

Attorney Emily Brown, quoted by Mother Jones, describes the administration’s overall strategy as a project of “mass delegalization.” “They’re trying to push people into the shadows and encourage them to simply give up and leave,” she said. For the 330,000 Haitians affected, the alternative to staying is returning to a country that the U.S. State Department itself advises against visiting.

330,000 people who work, pay their taxes, raise their children—often children who are U.S. citizens by birth—and whose futures are being decided by unmotivated orders in Washington. I can’t describe this as anything other than deliberate administrative cruelty. The “temporality” argument doesn’t hold water when the country of origin is in a state of collapse, as documented by the U.S. government itself.

Afghanistan: Betrayal of Wartime Promises

The revocation of Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for Afghans—announced by Noem in May 2025—is particularly cynical. Thousands of Afghan nationals protected by TPS assisted U.S. military forces during the twenty-year U.S. military presence in Afghanistan, before fleeing the Taliban regime following the fall of Kabul in August 2021. Not only is Washington revoking their temporary protection, but according to the Los Angeles Times, the Trump administration is negotiating with third countries—including the Democratic Republic of the Congo—to send Afghans there instead of admitting them to the United States. The week before Calmes’s column was published on June 18, 2026, several Afghans were among the approximately twenty-four refugees deported to the Central African Republic—a country for which the State Department advises against travel “for any reason whatsoever.”

Of the approximately 6,000 refugees admitted to the United States before June 2026, nearly all came from white South Africa, and only three from Afghanistan. The implicit message is brutally clear: the Trump administration would rather take in Afrikaners threatened by land expropriation laws than former Afghan allies facing death threats from the Taliban.

Syria Caught in the Crossfire

Regarding Syria, the administration justified the revocation of TPS by asserting that the fall of the Assad regime in late 2024 meant the country was on the path to stabilization. Justice Brett Kavanaugh, during oral arguments in April 2026, appeared to accept this argument, suggesting that the regime change constituted a “significant change in circumstances.” But the 6,100 Syrians benefiting from TPS—whose protection had been granted by the Obama administration starting in 2012 due to Assad’s crackdown—argue that the new Syrian government is neither stable nor safe, and that the consultation with the State Department required by law was not conducted satisfactorily.

The lower court judges unanimously found that the consultations that took place—a single email from a DHS official to a State Department official, with a reply indicating no foreign policy objection—were insufficient under the legal requirements. The administration, for its part, argues that if any communication took place at all, the legal requirement is met. This is an interpretation that Justice Elena Kagan subjected to increasingly implausible hypothetical scenarios during the oral arguments.

There is something absurd about the fact that the West—and the United States first and foremost—spent twenty years training Afghan interpreters, soldiers, and doctors, only to ultimately tell them: “Sorry, the program is temporary; go home to the Taliban.” Political ingratitude can be a strategy. But in this case, it’s a strategy that sends a very clear message about who matters and who doesn’t.

A UN report dated June 17, 2026, paints a grim picture

It is difficult to argue that conditions in these countries have “changed sufficiently” to justify the forced return of their nationals. A joint report by the FAO (Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations) and the World Food Programme (WFP), published on June 17, 2026, identifies 13 countries and territories where food insecurity is expected to worsen between June and November 2026. Conflict is the main cause of hunger in 12 of these 13 areas. Sudan, South Sudan, Yemen, and Palestine remain the most critical hotspots. Somalia and Nigeria have been moved into the highest-risk category due to drought, conflict, and crop failures.

The figures are staggering. Approximately 266 million people face severe food insecurity in these areas. In Sudan, the hunger crisis is described as the worst in the world, with risks of famine persisting in parts of Darfur and South Kordofan through early 2027. In Yemen, more than 18 million people could face severe food shortages. The WFP notes that global humanitarian aid has fallen by 59% between 2022 and 2025. As of June 2026, only one-third of the priority funding needs for food security had been met, according to FAO Director Rein Paulsen.

Countries at War That Are Being Shut Out

In the case of Yemen, a federal judge in the Southern District of New York, Judge Dale Ho, blocked the Trump administration’s attempt in May 2026 to withdraw temporary protection from deportation for nearly 3,000 Yemeni nationals living and working in the United States, according to the legal website Jurist. For Somalia, a federal district court in Boston issued an emergency order in March 2026 preventing DHS from terminating TPS for approximately 1,100 Somali nationals, according to Visa HQ. For South Sudan, a federal judge had suspended the termination of TPS for approximately 300 South Sudanese nationals in late 2025, according to the Brussels Morning Newspaper.

Legal actions are multiplying, but every victory in an appeals court or district court is likely to be overturned by an emergency order from the Supreme Court—without any explanation—as has happened twice in the case of Venezuela. The UN is calling for $2 billion in aid to feed 12 million Yemenis, while Washington is devoting its energy to deporting the few thousand Yemenis who are working legally in the United States.

I read the figures from the FAO-WFP report dated June 17, 2026, and I search in vain for how to call a return to a country where 18 million people lack food and where conflict is the main cause of hunger a “return home under normal conditions.” Is this what Noem means by “a bygone era”? Is this what she means by “the moment when conditions changed”? I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, but the facts don’t support it.

The Supreme Court Sets the Stage in 2025

Venezuela was the first country for which the Supreme Court granted the Trump administration the right to proceed with the TPS revocation while the substantive litigation continued. The May 19, 2025, order—brief, unsigned, and without reasoning—allowed the administration to terminate protections for the approximately 300,000 Venezuelans covered by the 2023 designation. The October 3, 2025, order reaffirmed this position following another ruling by Judge Chen in favor of the plaintiffs. The Court simply stated that “although the posture of the case has changed, the parties’ legal arguments and the related harms have not changed in general.”

Judge Chen, for his part, refused to be intimidated. Following the May 2025 order, he explained that it “provided no specific justification” and “did not preclude this court from considering the merits of the case.” In January 2026, the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals upheld Chen’s final decision. But the Supreme Court’s order remains in effect, suspending protection for Venezuelans while the appeals process continues. Meanwhile, the Venezuelan government of Nicolás Maduro—whose documented authoritarianism was precisely the reason for the TPS designations—has obviously not changed.

The “national security” argument as a smokescreen

To justify the revocation of Venezuelan TPS, DHS linked the beneficiaries to the Tren de Aragua gang, claiming that Venezuelan TPS holders posed a security risk. Attorney Jayesh Rathod, a professor at American University, quoted by Bloomberg Law, commented: “This shows that simply invoking national security does not necessarily make an issue a genuine national security issue.” Judge Chen applied the “strict scrutiny” standard established in Village of Arlington Heights v. Metropolitan Housing Development Corp.—which requires proof of racially discriminatory intent for equal protection claims—rather than the more permissive standard in Trump v. Hawaii that the government sought to apply.

The stakes of this choice of standard are considerable. If the Supreme Court confirms that the standard from Trump v. Hawaii applies—as the government is requesting—the racial animus argument will likely not hold up, according to Bloomberg Law’s legal analysis. If it upholds the Arlington Heights standard, the accumulated evidence of racial animus—public statements, internal emails, and ignored recommendations from career officials—constitutes a strong case.

Using the “Aragua Train” as an argument to expel 300,000 Venezuelans from U.S. territory is exactly the kind of reasoning based on collective stereotypes that Judge Chen specifically condemned. You take the worst of a group—even if that worst is well-documented—and project it onto the whole. It’s as old as discrimination itself, and it doesn’t become any more acceptable just because you dress it up in a national security memo.

Revocations That Have Already Taken Effect

While media coverage focuses on the legal battles surrounding Haiti and Syria, the revocations for Honduras, Nicaragua, Afghanistan, Cameroon, and Nepal have already taken effect as of March 31, 2026. According to the KFF, approximately 320,000 individuals have already lost their TPS as a result of these five terminations. For Honduras and Nicaragua, the termination had been announced as early as July 8, 2025, according to an analysis by the law firm Brownstein Hyatt Farber Schreck. These two countries—with predominantly Catholic and Latino populations—share the demographic profile of the other nations on the list.

Cameroon is particularly interesting to examine. A Central African country with a Black majority, it has been torn apart since 2016 by the armed conflict in the English-speaking region—the “Ambazonian” movement seeking independence—and by chronic intercommunal violence. Cameroonians in the United States were granted TPS precisely because of these conditions. The announcement of the end of TPS for Cameroon in April 2025 was made in the same communication as the one announcing the end of TPS for Afghanistan—two countries for which it is difficult to identify any documented “normalization.”

Nepal and Myanmar: The Silent Ones

Nepal—whose TPS had been granted following the devastating 2015 earthquake—saw its revocation announced for June 2025, with a phased implementation. Myanmar (Burma), under military junta rule since the February 2021 coup, has been repeatedly condemned by the international community for human rights violations against the Rohingya minority and political opponents. The revocation of Myanmar’s TPS—suspended by court order but still on the table—affected nationals, many of whom are fleeing precisely this violence. Human Rights Watch, in its 2026 World Report published in February, cited the use of racial profiling in the enforcement of immigration laws as one of the hallmarks of the Trump administration’s immigration policy—a policy that notably led the Supreme Court to authorize the use of ethnicity and perceived national origin as factors justifying detention by ICE.

Ethiopia completes this picture. Located in the Horn of Africa, the country experienced a civil war in Tigray between 2020 and 2022 that was documented as brutal, resulting in hundreds of thousands of deaths and millions of displaced people. Despite a fragile peace agreement signed in late 2022, tensions persist. Human Rights Watch lists Ethiopia among the countries whose TPS was targeted by the Trump administration.

The cases of Honduras, Nepal, Myanmar, and Cameroon are the most politically overlooked—no community visible enough in a key country, no scandal prominent enough to attract the cameras. This is where the discriminatory policy is most blatant: no one is watching, the revocations are already in effect, and hundreds of thousands of people are living in forced hiding or in fear of deportation. Invisibility is a form of impunity.

Black people, Latinos, Muslims—the unambiguous list

Let’s take a look at the demographics of the thirteen targeted countries. Countries with a Muslim majority or a significant Muslim population: Afghanistan, Somalia, Yemen, Myanmar (where the Rohingya Muslim minority is persecuted), Syria. African countries with Black populations: Cameroon, Ethiopia, Somalia, South Sudan. Latino countries: Honduras, Nicaragua, Venezuela. South/Southeast Asian countries with non-white populations: Afghanistan, Myanmar, Nepal. Haiti combines two characteristics: it is a Black-majority country and one of the poorest countries in the world, which Trump had repeatedly referred to as a “shithole country”—according to remarks he made during a congressional hearing in 2018 and cited by Justice Sotomayor during oral arguments in April 2026.

By contrast, the countries for which TPS was maintained or expanded under the Trump administration include Lebanon—whose designation was extended by six months in May 2026—and, outside the TPS program, a policy to admit an additional 10,000 white Afrikaners from South Africa. The distinction is not subtle. UCLA attorney Ahilan Arulanantham, representing the Syrian plaintiffs, put it plainly in an interview with Bloomberg Law: “The racial animus surrounding these policies is quite clear on the surface.”

The parallel with Trump v. Hawaii and its limitations

The Trump administration is seeking to apply the standard set in Trump v. Hawaii—the 2018 ruling that upheld the travel ban targeting Muslim-majority countries. In that ruling, the Court applied the “rational basis” test—which is highly favorable to the executive branch—largely disregarding Trump’s anti-Muslim statements in favor of a formal analysis of the policy’s legitimacy. But the TPS cases present a crucial difference: the argument does not focus solely on Trump’s political statements, but on internal DHS documentary evidence showing that career officials were sidelined by political appointees to impose predetermined decisions. This level of direct evidence was absent in the litigation over the travel ban.

The Equal Protection Clause of the 14th Amendment, the due process rights of the 5th Amendment, and the provisions of the Administrative Procedure Act allowing judicial review of arbitrary and capricious actions: these are the three pillars upon which the plaintiffs’ claims rest. The Supreme Court’s decision, expected in late June or early July 2026, will be one of the most significant immigration rulings in decades.

I am not a constitutional scholar, but the parallel with Trump v. Hawaii strikes me as dangerous precisely because it has already “worked” once in the administration’s favor. A Supreme Court willing to turn a blind eye to a president’s explicitly racist statements in order to validate a policy could do so again. What gives me pause is that the internal evidence regarding Haiti is of a different nature—it shows a decision made before the analysis, not after. Even the “rational basis” test would likely have a hard time accepting that.

One million workers, 53,000 in healthcare

The Trump administration’s narrative portrays TPS recipients as a burden on their host country. The available data tells a different story. According to KFF, immigrants likely to have TPS from the 16 countries for which data is available accounted for approximately 740,000 workers aged 18 and older in the United States in 2024, including about 53,000 in the healthcare sector. Their employment rate—74%—exceeds that of other non-citizen immigrants (67%) and that of adult U.S. citizens (62%).

The loss of status automatically results in the loss of work authorization. For people who pay taxes, contribute to retirement systems, and participate in the local economy, deportation or forced underground status represents a net loss for the communities that host them—as the particularly well-documented example of Springfield, Ohio, demonstrates. The 53,000 TPS healthcare workers in an already strained U.S. healthcare sector pose a concrete operational risk that the administration appears to be deliberately ignoring.

The Impact on Public Health: A Ticking Time Bomb

KFF has also documented the health impact on TPS recipients themselves. More than 77% of undocumented immigrants reported in the 2025 KFF survey that they had experienced negative health impacts related to immigration concerns since January 2025. Nearly half (48%) reported having avoided seeking medical care since January 2025 out of fear of immigration-related consequences. The loss of TPS also deprives those affected of their access to employer-sponsored health insurance—44% of TPS workers had such coverage—and makes them ineligible for Medicaid, CHIP, Medicare, and subsidized ACA marketplaces.

This cumulative pressure—job loss, loss of insurance, chronic immigration-related stress, and ongoing legal uncertainty—constitutes what epidemiologists call high-risk “acculturation stress.” For already vulnerable communities, often living in areas with limited access to care, this accelerates poor public health, which will in turn impact the U.S. healthcare systems themselves.

53,000 TPS healthcare workers in a country that has been talking about a healthcare crisis for twenty years. I don’t know how anyone could make the political calculation that says it’s a good idea to deport them. And I’m not even talking about ethics—just practical logic. But perhaps practical logic is precisely not what guides these decisions.

A Temporary Protective Framework That Is Beginning to Unravel

Federal courts have offered remarkably sustained resistance to the Trump administration on the TPS issue. According to a Bloomberg analysis cited by SCOTUSblog, TPS holders have secured favorable rulings in at least nine cases since the Venezuela order in May 2025. Injunctions have protected Somalis (Boston, March 2026), Yemenis (New York, May 2026), Haitians (multiple cases, including Washington, D.C., February 2026), South Sudanese (late 2025), and others. Each legal victory is a reprieve, but not a definitive victory.

In Congress, the signals are mixed. The two Republican representatives from the Springfield area voted in favor of extending Haitian TPS through April 2029—a sign that even in affected Republican districts, economic and human realities sometimes alter political calculations. But at the national level, the Republican majority in Congress has shown no willingness to pass legislation to protect TPS beneficiaries from executive branch decisions. The issue is therefore left to the courts, whose ability to intervene could soon be significantly curtailed by the Supreme Court.

The Haitian Motion of June 16: A Procedural Twist

On June 16, 2026, attorneys for the Haitian TPS recipients filed a motion with the Supreme Court requesting that the case be dismissed due to the discovery of new DHS documents. These documents reveal that the decision to terminate Haitian TPS was made even before the required analysis was conducted—a political appointee had verbally ordered career officials to abandon their recommendation for an extension. The motion argues that “the Court lacks a solid factual basis on which to assess the validity of the respondents’ allegations” until the discovery process is complete. The Supreme Court is expected to request a response from the administration, and a decision is anticipated by late June or early July 2026, according to ABC News and NPR.

This motion places the Court in a delicate position: if it issues its ruling without taking the new evidence into account, it risks upholding a decision that documentary evidence shows was predetermined and did not comply with legal procedures. If it remands the case to the lower courts to supplement the record, it implicitly acknowledges the validity of the allegations of procedural irregularities—and, by implication, of discriminatory intent.

The June 16 motion is perhaps the most important document in this entire legal saga. It does not say “the administration is racist”—it says “the administration lied about the procedure it followed.” This is not merely an argument regarding equal protection. It is an argument regarding institutional fraud. And if the Supreme Court decides nonetheless to disregard it, we will have learned something very important about what “the rule of law” still means in 2026 in the United States.

A Firm Stance on Immigration: A Defensible Position

It is possible—and intellectually honest—to defend part of the Trump administration’s reasoning without endorsing its methods. The United States has a sovereign right to control its borders and manage its immigration programs. TPS, designed as a temporary protection measure, has effectively been used as a quasi-permanent pathway for certain nationals—a fact that even liberal experts acknowledge. The desire to restore order to an immigration system overburdened by contradictory procedures is not, in and of itself, a discriminatory policy.

For the West, Trump represents what I would readily describe as a necessary evil: his ability to identify and challenge institutional taboos—on border management, on the influence of international organizations, on the credibility of certain elites—has forced debates that liberal democracies had avoided for too long. His firm stance against the West’s adversaries—China, Russia, Iran, North Korea—deserves credit, even if the results remain mixed. The West needs leaders capable of projecting strength. On this point, the systematic criticism of Trump misses something important.

But institutions are non-negotiable

A firm stance on immigration is not the problem. The problem is the method. Political appointees who override the recommendations of career civil servants to impose predetermined decisions. An executive branch that argues that the courts have no jurisdiction to review its decisions—none at all, even in cases of proven racial animus. A Supreme Court that issues unsubstantiated rulings on issues affecting hundreds of thousands of people. A humanitarian protection system dismantled without serious factual analysis, while the government refuses to conduct the consultation required by law.

This is no longer immigration policy—it is institutional subversion. The Human Rights Watch report for the year 2026, published in February, documented how the administration has combined racial profiling in immigration enforcement, the dismantling of anti-discrimination programs, and the erasure of Black American history into a coherent strategy of democratic regression. Criticizing Trump on this front is not partisan anti-Trumpism. It is defending the institutions that the West has spent a century building.

I can advocate for a firm stance on immigration while condemning the methods used. These are not contradictory positions—they are, in fact, necessarily linked. A strong West is not built on fraudulent procedures and racial exclusion. It is built on rules that everyone respects, including the executive branch. When the president tells the courts that they have no right to hold him accountable, he is no longer defending the West—he is undermining what still makes it worth defending.

Thirteen countries, one pattern, one question

The thirteen countries stripped of TPS by the Trump administration do not constitute a random list. They form a clear demographic pattern: all Black, Latino, or Muslim, or a combination of the three. In contrast, there is a welcoming policy reserved for white Afrikaners from South Africa, a refusal to consult the State Department as required by law, career civil servants muzzled by political appointees, and Supreme Court orders issued without justification. The evidence gathered in dozens of legal proceedings—documentary evidence, internal emails, and civil servants’ testimonies—collectively paints a picture of what legal scholars call discriminatory animus: hostility toward identifiable racial or ethnic groups as the true driving force behind decisions presented as purely administrative.

The U.S. Supreme Court is expected to issue its ruling on the Haitian and Syrian cases by late June or early July 2026. If it upholds the government’s argument that the courts can never review these decisions, it will in effect be writing a judicial version of the same lack of reasoning found in the 2025 Venezuela orders: a license to act without explaining why. The West—of which the United States is, whether we like it or not, the indispensable linchpin—cannot afford to leave this question unanswered. Not if its ambition is still to be the center of the free world.

What History Will Remember

Twenty years from now, when the history of U.S. immigration policy from 2025–2026 is written, the thirteen countries stripped of TPS will be remembered as a defining moment. Not because the United States exercised its sovereign right to manage its borders—no one can deny that principle in principle. But because they chose to do so in a manner that internal evidence shows was predetermined, procedurally fraudulent, and demographically targeted along racial lines. The map of excluded countries does not lie. It says exactly what it shows: who counts, and who does not count, in the America of 2026.

Signed, Maxime Marquette, columnist