On a humid Louisiana night on September 29, 2025, a U.S.-chartered plane lifted off from a military airfield in Alexandria, bound for Iran with about 100 people on board. This was no ordinary flight—it marked the first phase of a rare and controversial deportation deal between Washington and Tehran, sending Iranian nationals back to a country where, advocates warn, they could face grave risks.
According to The New York Times, the flight was part of a broader agreement forged after months of tense, behind-the-scenes negotiations. The passengers, mostly Iranians who had entered the United States illegally—many through Mexico—had either been denied asylum or had not yet had the chance to plead their case before a judge. Some had spent months languishing in detention centers, while others had residence permits but were swept up in the crackdown nonetheless. An Iranian official, Hossein Noushabadi of the foreign ministry, told the Tasnim News Agency, “In the first phase, they decided to deport 120 Iranians who entered the U.S. illegally, mostly through Mexico.”
The flight, which stopped in Puerto Rico to collect additional deportees before proceeding to Doha, Qatar, was scheduled to arrive in Tehran within a day or two of departure. Iranian authorities confirmed that the group would be joined by more in the coming months, with a total of around 400 people slated for deportation as part of this unprecedented arrangement. “The U.S. is planning to deport around 400 Iranians, most of whom entered the country illegally, in line with the new anti-immigrant approach of the U.S. government,” Noushabadi said on September 30, 2025.
For many of those on board, the choice to return to Iran was anything but voluntary. Jamal Abdi, president of the National Iranian American Council, captured the dilemma faced by these individuals: “Our understanding is all these individuals agreed to be deported to Iran when facing a terrible choice: endure deplorable treatment in some of the worst prison conditions in the United States with little hope for release, be deported to a third country where they don’t speak the language, or return to Iran.”
The deportation deal stands out as a rare moment of cooperation between two nations whose relationship has been defined by decades of suspicion and hostility. The Trump administration, which just months earlier launched a major strike on Iranian nuclear sites, has generally taken a hardline stance against Tehran. Yet, the logistics of the deportations required months of back-channel negotiations, conducted through Iran’s interests section in Washington, which is housed within the Pakistani embassy due to the absence of formal diplomatic ties. The U.S. even allowed Iranian officials to verify the identities of the deportees and issue travel documents for those lacking them—a notable concession in an otherwise frosty relationship.
Despite Iranian officials’ public assurances that the returnees “had left Iran legally and would not face any problems after their return,” human rights organizations and members of the Iranian diaspora remain deeply skeptical. Iran has long been criticized for its poor human rights record, particularly its treatment of journalists, activists, religious minorities, women’s rights advocates, and LGBTQ individuals. The prospect of forcibly returning people—especially those with political or religious affiliations that could be construed as anti-regime—has triggered alarm bells.
“The fact that a deportation flight is being chartered to Iran underscores the grave civil rights violations being inflicted on Iranian nationals here in the United States,” Abdi said in a statement. Legal experts note that the deportations may violate international law, specifically the principle of non-refoulement, which prohibits returning individuals to countries where they are likely to face persecution. Historically, the U.S. has avoided deporting people to high-risk countries like Iran, often opting instead for long-term detention or supervised release. This new approach marks a significant—and, some say, troubling—shift in American immigration policy.
Not all of the deportees were undocumented. According to Noushabadi, “Some (returnees) had residence permits but due to reasons stated by the U.S. immigration office they were included in the list. Of course, their own consent was obtained for their return.” Nonetheless, many advocates argue that the so-called consent was given under duress, given the dire conditions in U.S. detention centers and the lack of meaningful alternatives. Since the beginning of 2025, at least 16 people have died in immigration detention across the United States, making this year one of the deadliest on record for in-custody deaths, according to The Independent.
The Trump administration has made no secret of its intention to deport record numbers of people living in the U.S. without legal status, citing what it describes as high illegal border crossings under President Joe Biden. However, even with its aggressive rhetoric, the administration has struggled to ramp up deportation numbers, leading to new strategies—including sending migrants to countries with which the U.S. has little or no diplomatic relationship. In February 2025, for example, the U.S. deported 119 people from various countries, including Iran, to Panama as part of another agreement.
The White House and the U.S. State Department have not commented publicly on the specifics of the Iran deal, leaving many questions unanswered. What is clear, however, is that the deportees are returning to a country facing its own set of challenges: economic hardship, high unemployment, power shortages, and renewed international sanctions. For those who fled Iran for political, religious, or economic reasons, the future remains uncertain—and potentially dangerous.
Human rights groups are particularly concerned about the fate of individuals who sought asylum in the U.S. on the grounds of religious conversion or political persecution. In Iran, apostasy and dissent can carry severe penalties, and there is little faith that government guarantees will protect returnees from the reach of security forces. “Those with a track record of dissent, conversion from Islam, or links to Western legal systems are considered especially vulnerable,” noted one advocate, echoing widespread fears in the Iranian exile community.
The deportations also raise broader questions about the direction of U.S. immigration policy. Is the United States abandoning its long-standing commitment to protect those fleeing persecution? Or is it simply responding to domestic pressures to tighten its borders, regardless of the consequences for vulnerable individuals? The answers may depend on who you ask, but the stakes for those on that plane—and for hundreds more who may soon follow—could not be higher.
As the first group of deportees arrives in Tehran, the world will be watching closely. Their fate will serve as a litmus test for both American values and Iran’s willingness to honor its stated commitments. For now, uncertainty hangs heavy over those caught between two governments, neither of which seems fully prepared to guarantee their safety.
