SCOTUS Just Gave Civil Rights to Foreign Warlords – Because American Prisons Hurt Their Feelings

In April 2025, nearly two dozen members of Venezuela’s notorious Tren de Aragua gang seized control of a unit in a Texas ICE detention center. They flooded cells, covered cameras, threatened to take hostages, and ignored direct orders for hours. According to the Department of Homeland Security, it was a deliberate, coordinated uprising by foreign gang members held in American custody.

That should have been the end of the conversation.

Yet just days later, the Supreme Court of the United States ruled that the Trump administration could not deport MS-13 detainees back to El Salvador’s Centro de Confinamiento del Terrorismo (CECOT), a purpose-built prison for the worst gang offenders and terrorists. Instead, these paramilitary threats remain in US facilities that were never designed to hold foreign combatants and transnational predators. The justices framed the issue as one of civil rights, missing the broader, grimmer reality: the American prison system is not neutral ground, it is a battlefield, and we are arming the enemy with procedural rights.

MS-13 is not a conventional criminal gang. It is an ideological cartel forged in the crucible of American dysfunction. Born in the barrios of 1980s Los Angeles, Mara Salvatrucha was a direct product of refugee displacement from El Salvador’s civil war. These young immigrants, alienated and under assault from entrenched Mexican and African-American gangs, responded by organizing for protection. What began as a defensive unit rapidly metastasized into a brutal network bonded by violence and fear, pledging fealty to La Eme, the Mexican Mafia, and cementing their role within the US criminal underworld.

This is no mere historical footnote. The gang’s origin in US soil, specifically in US prisons, is the skeleton key to understanding its growth. Incarceration did not weaken MS-13. It trained them. It connected them to La Eme, taught them advanced criminal logistics, and radicalized them into a quasi-religious hierarchy of pain. By the late 1990s, American prisons had become MS-13’s officer training academies.

It would be a cruel irony if it weren’t so deadly. The very institutions built to contain crime became factories producing more of it.

MS-13’s virulence spread to El Salvador through mass deportations, most significantly under the 1996 Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act. Tens of thousands of gang members, now battle-hardened and prison-indoctrinated, returned home not as wayward sons but as generals in a new war. They were welcomed not with resistance but with admiration by young, impoverished Salvadorans desperate for protection and belonging. The gang absorbed rivals, hijacked territory, and turned El Salvador into a narco-feudal terror state, where government existed only where MS-13 allowed it to.

It should therefore shock no one that El Salvador eventually responded in kind. In 2023, President Nayib Bukele unveiled CECOT, the world’s largest mega-prison, specifically engineered to break gang control. It has worked. Homicide rates have plummeted. MS-13 has lost its chokehold. The Salvadoran model is not gentle, but it is effective. It is what civilization looks like when it decides to survive.

The United States, by contrast, has chosen paralysis. Despite clear intelligence that both MS-13 and Tren de Aragua exploit our legal systems, our asylum laws, and yes, our prison facilities, we persist in treating them as if they were mere burglars or drug dealers. They are not. They are insurgents, paramilitary actors whose loyalty is to their gang, and in the case of TdA and MS-13 to the Maduro regime, and whose objective is domination, not rehabilitation.

And we are giving them the perfect tools.

The US penal system is governed by rights frameworks that were never meant for foreign combatants. Habeas corpus, due process, anti-psychological torture regulations, religious accommodations, gender affirming care, these are noble pillars when applied to American citizens. They become absurd when wielded by foot soldiers of a foreign gang-state. Inmates in US prisons can organize, communicate, recruit, and legally challenge discipline. That is not hypothetical. That is precisely what MS-13 did in the late 1980s and what Tren de Aragua attempted again last month in Texas.

This is not an isolated incident. It is a systemic risk.

The Alien Enemies Act of 1798 was written for precisely this scenario. The Founders, not known for their leniency, understood that enemies of the United States need not wear uniforms. The statute empowers the President to remove foreign nationals considered dangerous to the nation’s peace and safety. It was crafted at a time when deportation was not considered a civil rights violation but a sovereign necessity. It remains on the books today.

And yet, SCOTUS has turned this principle upside down. In prioritizing process over protection, the Court effectively mandates that the American people house, feed, and empower foreign paramilitaries. The effect is perverse: MS-13 and TdA cannot be deported because our prisons might be less comfortable than theirs, and they cannot be transferred to El Salvador because Bukele’s CECOT might be too effective.

That is not humanitarianism. That is suicide.

To state the obvious: MS-13 and TdA members in US custody are not awaiting rehabilitation, they are expanding their operations. The FBI estimated in 2018 that there were roughly 10,000 MS-13 members in the United States, most of them undocumented. Roughly a third of those are believed to be in prison or detention at any given time. That is not a holding pattern. That is a strategic foothold.

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