On the morning of September 4, 2025, a sprawling Hyundai electric vehicle battery plant under construction in southeast Georgia became the epicenter of a dramatic immigration raid—one that would reverberate through families, local economies, and even the diplomatic corridors linking Washington and Seoul. U.S. Homeland Security Investigations (HSI) agents swept through the site in what officials later described as the largest single-site enforcement action in the agency’s history, detaining nearly 500 workers in a matter of hours. The fallout has proven far-reaching, with both immediate human costs and broader geopolitical consequences.
According to The Associated Press, the raid ensnared a total of 475 workers, most of whom were South Korean nationals flown in to help stand up the highly specialized EV production lines. More than 300 of these Koreans were detained, with the remainder of the nearly 200 non-Korean workers hailing from countries such as Mexico, Guatemala, Colombia, Chile, Ecuador, and Venezuela. Rosie Harrison, who leads the non-profit Grow Initiative in Georgia, described the aftermath as a crisis for local families. "We have individuals returning calls every day, but the list doesn’t end," she explained, noting that her organization has been inundated with pleas for help from families suddenly cut off from their primary breadwinners. Many of those detained, Harrison emphasized, had legal authorization to work in the United States, adding to the confusion and distress among families left without income, transportation, or answers.
As the raid unfolded, workers scrambled to avoid capture—some hiding in air ducts, remote corners of the property, or even a nearby sewage pond, according to the Department of Justice. Vanessa Contreras of Migrant Equity Southeast, a local non-profit, recounted how her team fielded frantic calls from people both inside and outside the plant, desperate for information about missing loved ones. In some cases, families reported that the only person able to drive—often the sole provider—had been detained, leaving them stranded and in urgent need of essentials like baby formula and food.
For the Korean nationals, the episode quickly escalated into a diplomatic flashpoint. South Korean President Lee Jae-myung condemned the detentions as an "unjust infringement" on the rights of Korean citizens and companies investing in the U.S., a sentiment echoed across the political spectrum in Seoul. According to Chosun Ilbo, JoongAng Ilbo, and Hankyoreh, newspapers that rarely agree on much, the raid was seen as a humiliating betrayal of the longstanding U.S.-South Korea alliance. President Lee called for "system improvements" through consultation with Washington to prevent such an incident from happening again.
South Korean Foreign Minister Cho Hyun flew to Washington to meet with U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio, pressing for the immediate release of the detained workers and assurances that their future ability to visit or work in the U.S. would not be jeopardized. Following these talks, the U.S. agreed to release the Korean detainees after seven days in ICE custody. On September 11, they were transferred to Atlanta airport and flown back to South Korea on a chartered Korean Air flight, as confirmed by South Korea’s foreign ministry. "We will take every step necessary to guarantee the quick return of our citizens," Minister Hyun said, also proposing the creation of a bilateral task force to prevent similar crises in the future.
Yet, even as the immediate crisis resolved for the Korean workers, nearly 200 non-Korean detainees remained in legal limbo or unaccounted for, according to advocates and attorneys in Georgia. Atlanta-based lawyer Charles Kuck, who represents both Korean and non-Korean detainees, pointed out that some of his clients were legally authorized to work under the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program, with one released and another still held due to a recent DUI charge. Others, like a woman seeking asylum with the same documents as her non-detained husband, were left baffled by the apparent arbitrariness of the arrests. Rosario Palacios of Migrant Equity Southeast noted that some detainees even possessed valid Georgia driver’s licenses, which are not available to undocumented immigrants, further muddying the criteria used by authorities during the raid.
The economic ripple effects were immediate and severe. Hyundai CEO José Muñoz told Bloomberg that the raid would delay the opening of the new battery plant by at least two to three months. "This is going to give us minimum two to three months delay, because now all these people want to get back [to South Korea]," Muñoz explained. The challenge of refilling these highly specialized positions—many of which require skills and experience not readily available in the U.S.—has thrown company officials into a scramble. The plant, a joint venture between Hyundai and LG Energy Solution, was touted as a flagship project expected to create around 8,500 jobs for rural Georgia and to help revitalize American manufacturing.
The timing of the raid only deepened the sense of betrayal in Seoul. Less than two months earlier, South Korea had pledged $350 billion in new U.S. investments in exchange for reduced tariffs, part of a broader trade agreement celebrated by both countries. Now, South Korean lawmakers and business leaders openly questioned whether Washington was playing a "bait-and-switch," attracting massive foreign capital only to penalize the very experts needed to make such projects a success. Hyundai Motor Group Chair Euisun Chung, speaking at an event in Detroit, called for urgent visa reform, saying, "Our government and the U.S. government are working closely, and the visa regulation is very complicated. I hope we can make it, together, a better system."
For the U.S., the raid aligned with President Donald Trump’s campaign promises to crack down on undocumented labor and protect American jobs. However, critics like attorney Kuck argue that the administration’s broad definition of "criminal" now encompasses not just undocumented immigrants, but even some with legal status. "The redefinition of the word ‘criminal’ to include everybody who is not a citizen, and even some that are, is the problem here," Kuck said, highlighting the human cost of such policies.
In the days since, both governments have scrambled to contain the fallout and prevent a recurrence. While the White House insists that the raid was not aimed specifically at South Korea and that the alliance remains strong, such assurances ring hollow for many Koreans who saw images of their compatriots in handcuffs. The incident has cast a shadow over future mutual investment and raised questions about the sustainability of a partnership that is central not only to economic growth, but also to Indo-Pacific security.
As families in Georgia continue to grapple with loss and uncertainty, and as policymakers on both sides of the Pacific seek to repair trust, the Hyundai plant raid stands as a stark reminder of the complex, often fraught intersection between immigration enforcement, economic ambition, and international alliance. The hope, voiced by leaders in both countries, is that this crisis might yet serve as a catalyst for overdue reforms—before the next high-profile raid tests the bonds of partnership once again.
