In a dramatic turn of events over the U.S. Labor Day weekend, a federal judge temporarily halted the Trump administration’s plan to deport nearly 600 unaccompanied Guatemalan children, some of whom were already sitting on planes awaiting removal. The sudden intervention has thrown a spotlight on the administration’s sweeping immigration enforcement efforts—and the legal and humanitarian questions they raise.
According to The Independent and Politico, the deportation plan was part of what Trump officials described as the “largest deportation operation” in U.S. history. The operation targeted unaccompanied minors, some as young as ten, who had arrived in the United States without parents or guardians. The government’s stated goal was to return these children to Guatemala, purportedly to reunite them with their families.
But the plan’s execution was anything but straightforward. In the early hours of September 1, 2025, as President Donald Trump played golf, government agencies loaded dozens of children onto planes, preparing for immediate removal. Attorneys representing the children, including those from the National Immigration Law Center (NILC), rushed to court, arguing that the government was violating multiple U.S. laws and exposing the children to “irreparable harm.”
Federal Judge Sparkle L. Sooknanan was awakened at 2:30 a.m. to address the emergency filing. After learning that some children were already in the process of being removed, she moved a scheduled hearing up to 12:30 p.m. “I have the government attempting to remove minor children from the country in the wee hours of the morning on a holiday weekend, which is surprising, but here we are,” Sooknanan remarked in court, as reported by Politico.
The legal arguments hinged on protections afforded to unaccompanied minors under the Trafficking Victims Protection Reauthorization Act (TVPRA) of 2008 and the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1952. The TVPRA mandates special screening for possible human trafficking and requires due process before minors can be removed. Plaintiffs alleged that the government had illegally transferred children from the Office of Refugee Resettlement (ORR) to Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), and denied them a chance to contest their removals or seek asylum.
“It is a dark and dangerous moment…when our government chooses to target orphaned 10-year-olds and denies them their most basic legal right to present their case before an immigration judge. The Constitution and federal laws provide robust protections to unaccompanied minors,” said Efrén C. Olivares, vice president of litigation and legal strategy at NILC, as quoted in The Independent.
Among the children at risk were a 16-year-old mother and her 10-month-old daughter, as well as a 12-year-old boy with chronic kidney disease who needs regular dialysis and a kidney transplant, according to filings cited by Politico and The Washington Post. Some children, identified only by their initials, told attorneys they had been neglected, abandoned, physically threatened, or abused in Guatemala. Others had no family to return to in their home country.
Despite these concerns, Trump administration officials defended the operation. Justice Department attorney Drew Ensign argued in court that “the United States government is trying to facilitate the return of these children to their parents or guardians, from whom they have been separated.” He added that the Guatemalan government had requested the children’s return to reunite them with their families. White House immigration advisor Stephen Miller took to social media to criticize the judge’s order, claiming, “The minors have all self-reported that their parents are back home in Guatemala. But a Democrat judge is refusing to let them reunify with their parents.”
Guatemalan President Bernardo Arevalo echoed the U.S. government’s position, stating at a Monday news conference that his administration was “very concerned” about children nearing 18 who could be transferred to ICE detention. He said Guatemala was prepared to receive about 150 children per week and would work to reunite them safely with their families. “The decision of the shipment, of the number they are going to send, of the rhythm they are going to send is a decision that is partly in the hands of the American government and as you can see, it is currently in a judicial dispute,” Arevalo said, according to The Washington Post.
But advocates and attorneys for the children questioned the government’s narrative. Some pointed out that many of the children had not requested to return to Guatemala and may not have understood their legal options. “They don’t want to return,” said Efrén Olivares. Shaina Aber, executive director of the Acacia Center for Justice, emphasized that due process—even for those who might choose voluntary departure—is a “protective mechanism” against coercion, abuse, or misinformation.
The court filings described how, in some cases, the government gave the children no notice of their imminent removals. In other instances, officials simply removed minors’ pending cases from the immigration court docket in preparation for summary removal. The departures, attorneys argued, must be approved by an immigration judge—a step the administration had skipped.
Judge Sooknanan’s initial order applied only to the ten children listed as plaintiffs in the NILC’s class action complaint, but she later expanded it to cover all minors “not subject to an executable final order of removal.” She ordered the government to deplane all children and place them in the custody of the federal Office of Refugee Resettlement for the next 14 days, pending further legal proceedings. By midnight on September 1, all but one child had been returned to the resettlement program; the last was returned around 1:30 a.m. the next day, according to status reports filed by Justice Department attorneys.
The legal battle is far from over. Lawyers for the children are expected to file a motion for a preliminary injunction, while government lawyers will submit their opposition. The outcome could have far-reaching implications for immigration enforcement and the rights of unaccompanied minors in the United States.
Meanwhile, families in Guatemala anxiously await news. Outside La Aurora International Airport in Guatemala City, relatives gathered, hoping for updates on their children. Gilberto López, who drove through the night after his 17-year-old nephew called from Texas, captured the uncertainty felt by many: “He left Guatemala two years ago, at age 15, to work in the United States and was detained about a month ago.”
As the legal process unfolds, the fate of hundreds of vulnerable children—and the broader debate over America’s immigration policies—hangs in the balance.
