As the clock ticks down toward a potential partial government shutdown, the debate over immigration enforcement in the United States has reached a fever pitch. At the heart of the standoff is the Department of Homeland Security (DHS), an agency created in the aftermath of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks, and its controversial child, Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). The current impasse in Congress is not just about funding; it’s about the very philosophy underpinning U.S. immigration enforcement and the legacy of policies set in motion a quarter-century ago.
On February 12, 2026, the U.S. Senate failed to advance a measure to fund DHS, coming up eight votes short of the 60 needed. The 52 to 47 vote, according to CBS News, saw all but one Democrat—Sen. John Fetterman of Pennsylvania—oppose moving forward. Senate Majority Leader John Thune, a Republican from South Dakota, voted against the motion in a procedural move, preserving the option to revisit the bill. Unless lawmakers strike a deal before midnight on February 15, DHS funding will lapse, threatening a partial shutdown. However, ICE and Customs and Border Protection (CBP) would continue operating, thanks to billions in separate funding secured last year.
Behind the numbers lies a fierce ideological battle. Democrats, led by Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer and House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries, have drawn a line in the sand. They argue the bill "fails to make any progress on reining in ICE and stopping the violence." Their demands, submitted as a detailed 10-item list to Republican leadership over the weekend, include restricting immigration agents from wearing masks, requiring identification and body cameras, standardizing uniforms and equipment, banning racial profiling, mandating judicial warrants for home entries, and barring enforcement at sensitive locations like schools, hospitals, and places of worship.
“We’re asking ICE to do nothing more than follow the standards that the vast majority of law enforcement agencies already follow,” Schumer wrote on social media, as reported by ABC News. Democrats are also pushing for "reasonable" use-of-force standards, allowing state and local jurisdictions to investigate and prosecute excessive force, and introducing new safeguards into the detention system. The urgency behind these demands has only grown in the wake of recent federal immigration raids and the deaths of two U.S. citizens, Renée Good and Alex Pretti, in Minneapolis—events that have galvanized calls for reform.
Republicans, for their part, have shown some willingness to compromise—at least on the surface. According to The Hill, they’ve indicated support for body camera mandates and ending so-called roving patrols. But they’ve pushed back against the proposed ban on face masks for agents and are advancing their own priorities, such as punishing state and local officials who don’t cooperate with federal immigration operations. The details of the GOP’s counteroffer, presented on February 9, remain scant, and Democrats have dismissed it as "incomplete and insufficient." As Schumer and Jeffries put it, "The initial GOP response is both incomplete and insufficient in terms of addressing the concerns Americans have about ICE's lawless conduct. Democrats await additional detail and text."
President Trump, speaking to reporters on February 12, acknowledged the difficulty of the negotiations, saying that some Democratic demands are "very, very hard to approve." Senate Majority Leader Thune has urged Democrats to support a stopgap funding measure to buy more time, warning, “We are just a few days away from the deadline that Democrats chose. And it's very possible we won't have our work finished by then. If Democrats are serious about finding a solution, they may need to find more time to bring these efforts to a productive conclusion.”
The debate is not happening in a vacuum. The roots of the current crisis stretch back to the seismic changes in immigration enforcement after 9/11. As explained in a recent analysis by The Conversation, the creation of DHS and ICE in 2002 marked the largest government reorganization since the Department of Defense. Immigration enforcement, once a civil issue, was recast as a matter of national security. Immigrants were increasingly viewed not just as potential lawbreakers, but as possible threats to the homeland.
This shift was foreshadowed by the Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigration Responsibility Act of 1996, signed by President Bill Clinton, which expanded the list of deportable offenses and limited judicial review. But after 9/11, the connection between immigration and counterterrorism became explicit. Trials for immigration violations often took place in closed hearings, expedited deportations became common—even for longtime residents—and federal investment in surveillance technology, including facial recognition, soared.
One of the most controversial post-9/11 programs was the National Security Entry-Exit Registration System (NSEERS), which required immigrant men from 25 countries, mostly in the Middle East, South Asia, and North Africa, to register with the government. According to The Conversation, out of approximately 80,000 registrants, not a single terrorism prosecution resulted, though about 14,000 were placed in deportation proceedings for visa irregularities. United Nations human rights experts later condemned the program for racial and religious profiling. NSEERS was suspended in 2011 and terminated in 2016, but its legacy of fear and self-deportation lingers.
Today, ICE’s use of facial recognition technology has expanded to include not just immigrants, but also citizen observers. Privately owned detention centers, which proliferated in response to mass arrests, have been dogged by reports of abuse, solitary confinement, and medical neglect. Human rights advocates say these conditions have become all too common. The resulting atmosphere of fear has led many immigrants, even legal residents, to avoid schools, hospitals, and workplaces—a phenomenon that persists to this day.
In January 2026, Stephen Miller, a prominent voice in immigration policy, told ICE officers they had “immunity to perform your duties” and that “no illegal alien, no leftist agitator or domestic insurrectionist” could stop them. While such language might strike some as extreme, it’s a logical extension of the post-9/11 framework that treats immigration as a national security issue. As The Conversation notes, "the growth of extreme immigration enforcement, both at the border and across the country, results from this change 25 years ago."
Amid the current standoff, both sides are digging in. Democrats say ICE is “out of control” and insist on meaningful reforms before agreeing to new funding. Republicans argue that some reforms would hamstring law enforcement and threaten public safety. The White House, meanwhile, has sent its own legislative proposal, but as of February 12, no deal has been struck. Senators are set to leave Washington for recess, but have been told to be ready to return within 24 hours if a breakthrough occurs.
If no agreement is reached by February 13, the effects will ripple far beyond ICE and CBP. Agencies like the Transportation Security Administration, Coast Guard, Secret Service, Cybersecurity and Infrastructure Security Agency, and FEMA would also face disruption. Yet, for many lawmakers and advocates, the fight is about more than budgets—it’s about the soul of American immigration policy, and whether the shadow of 9/11 will continue to shape it for years to come.
The coming days will determine whether Congress can bridge its deep divides and find a path forward, or whether the U.S. will enter another chapter of shutdowns and uncertainty, with millions of lives hanging in the balance.