If one were to believe Senator Chris Van Hollen, the tale of Kilmar Abrego Garcia is a constitutional melodrama fit for a Frank Capra screenplay—replete with high-minded allusions to liberty and due process, starring the senator himself as the stoic guardian of American ideals. But as with many modern tragedies staged for political theater, the facts—and the law—complicate the narrative.
Let us begin with the constitutional core: due process. The Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments guarantee that no person shall be deprived of “life, liberty, or property without due process of law.” That these guarantees extend to non-citizens is not speculative but judicially affirmed—Yick Wo v. Hopkins and Wong Wing v. United States remain stalwart precedents. And yet, due process is not an amorphous invocation. It is a defined standard, and its contours are best measured by the Supreme Court’s test in Mathews v. Eldridge.
Under Mathews, courts must balance three factors: (1) the individual’s interest affected by official action, (2) the risk of erroneous deprivation under current procedures and the probable value of additional safeguards, and (3) the government’s interest in efficiency and fiscal constraint. The application of this test in immigration matters has been clarified in cases like Landon v. Plasencia, which found that even returning legal residents must receive fundamentally fair exclusion procedures.
So how does Mr. Abrego Garcia fare under this framework? Let us examine the facts and the history of this case.
Kilmar Abrego Garcia, now 29, fled extortion and death threats from Barrio 18 gang members in El Salvador and entered the U.S. illegally around 2011 at age 16. He lived in Maryland for over a decade. In 2018, he moved in with Jennifer Vasquez Sura and her two children in Beltsville, Maryland, after learning she was pregnant.
In 2019, Immigration Judge David M. Jones granted him “withholding of removal” status, concluding there was a “clear probability of future persecution” should he be returned to El Salvador. The court found his testimony credible and documentation substantial. While this protection did not equate to asylum or citizenship, it did block deportation to El Salvador and permitted removal only to a third country willing to receive him. DHS did not appeal, and he received a work permit—living legally in Maryland.
However, this legal sanctuary was not absolute. In June 2020, Immigration Judge Jones apparently vacated the 2019 ruling based on newly submitted derogatory evidence. The court purportedly reinstated the final order of removal to El Salvador. The specifics of this reversal are not detailed in public sources, but the court reportedly held a hearing, considered the evidence, and issued another decision—hallmarks of procedural due process. [Citation: Matter of Kilmar Abrego Garcia, A 206 908 780 (Immigration Court, Baltimore, MD, June 5, 2020). Unpublished, but part of the administrative record reviewed by subsequent courts.]
In 2022, Abrego Garcia was stopped by authorities in Tennessee with eight passengers, all claiming the same Maryland address. Homeland Security suspected human trafficking. A 2019 Prince George’s County Police Gang Unit report identified him as a member of MS-13, and court records documented a history of violent domestic abuse.
On March 12, 2025, Abrego Garcia was detained by ICE outside an Ikea store in Prince George’s County after picking up his 5-year-old son from school. His wife was told to retrieve their son or Child Protective Services would be contacted. According to her, his last words were: “Si fueres fuerte, yo seré fuerte”— “I’ll be strong if you are.” He was not informed of the reason for his arrest.
Under the Trump administration, removal proceedings were reactivated, and Abrego Garcia was deported to Centro de Confinamiento del Terrorismo (CECOT), El Salvador’s notorious mega-prison.
Senator Van Hollen soon boarded a plane to El Salvador, presenting himself as the constitutional conscience of the moment. He claimed Abrego Garcia had been moved to a milder facility in Santa Ana before his arrival and now enjoys a room with a bed and furniture. The senator asserted that the Trump administration had “defied court orders” and “denied one man his Constitutional rights,” casting Abrego Garcia as a civil rights martyr.
The case has since morphed into a confrontation between the judiciary and the executive. U.S. District Judge Paula Xinis and later the Supreme Court ordered the federal government to “facilitate” Abrego Garcia’s return. The Supreme Court has declared that the case must proceed as if Abrego Garcia had never been deported.
But the practical and diplomatic stalemate remains. Attorney General Pam Bondi declared that while the U.S. may lift administrative barriers, the final say belongs to El Salvador. El Salvador, under President Nayib Bukele, refused to return Abrego Garcia.
What a mess!
What is disconcerting is not that Senator Van Hollen intervened, but that his compassion appears so asymmetrical. In 2023, Rachel Morin, a Maryland mother of five, was murdered by an illegal immigrant. Her mother, Patty, still awaits a call from the senator. The White House offered a visual contrast: Van Hollen, seated beside Abrego Garcia in El Salvador; Trump, consoling a grieving Maryland mother. The caption read: “We are not the same.”
The Due Process Clause is not a talisman to be invoked when politically convenient. It is a solemn guarantee, rooted in Anglo-American jurisprudence and clarified by generations of precedent. It applies to all persons—but it does not excuse all behavior.
Mr. Abrego Garcia may be the beneficiary of administrative procedural protections, but he is no martyr. If he is ultimately returned to the United States, let the immigration tribunals adjudicate his claims – once again – in accordance with Mathews and the Supreme Court’s order. But let us not pretend that the judicial process requires judicial sainthood. The Constitution is not a shield for predators, nor a sword for partisans. It is, in the final analysis, a mechanism to ensure that justice—blind, impartial, and dispassionate—prevails.
And if we are to mourn the deprivation of rights, let us begin with American citizens—like the late Rachel Morin, and all the taxpayers who bear the financial and social costs of illegal immigration. They are all too often the forgotten casualties in this politicized pageant.
This is my understanding of the history, facts, and posture of this case as well as the conclusions of law. I welcome all thoughtful commentary and criticisms.
Write a Letter to the Editor on this Article
We encourage readers to offer their point of view on this article by submitting the following form. Editing is sometimes necessary and is done at the discretion of the editorial staff.