Trump’s Gestapo is spreading fear across America

The Fundamental Role of ICE

ICE’s core mission is nothing new. It is an agency that has been arresting and deporting people without lawful residency status for years, regardless of whether Obama, Trump, or Biden is in the White House. According to U.S. government data, deportations rose under Biden in 2024 to more than 270,000—the highest figure in a decade and higher than in any year of Trump’s first term. What is now troubling critics is the manner in which these deportations are carried out. Under the Trump administration, the militarized approach to law enforcement was increasingly documented.

This crucial distinction between the number of deportations and the methods employed reveals a profound shift in government philosophy. The previous administration favored a targeted approach, focusing resources on individuals posing threats to national security or with serious criminal histories. In contrast, the current approach adopts a mass strategy, operating indiscriminately and without distinction, detaining people whose only “crime” is having crossed a border without documents or having stayed beyond the authorized duration of their visa.

The Militarization of Operations

Field operations involve masked agents, tactical gear, raids on people’s workplaces, and arrests that resemble special operations. There are recordings showing agents wearing civilian clothing and driving unmarked vehicles. The practice of wearing masks draws particular attention. DHS claims that agents wear masks to prevent “doxxing”—that is, the public disclosure of their identities and personal information. Critics warn that this creates the impression of an anonymous, faceless force operating in the shadows without accountability.

How can we accept law enforcement that is faceless, without identity, and without accountability? It is as if we were returning to dark times when tyranny was exercised anonymously, when power was wielded without being named or recognized. These masks, these plainclothes uniforms, these unmarked vehicles—all of this resembles a dystopian nightmare, a reality where the rule of law gives way to the arbitrariness of power.

The ICE’s Historic Budget

At the same time, ICE is expanding through its budget. The Guardian reports that following the passage of the “One Big Beautiful Bill Act” (Trump’s sweeping budget-policy package), ICE’s budget for 2025–2026 reached $28.7 billion—nearly three times that of previous years. This massive injection of funds represents an unprecedented investment in the agency’s deportation and detention capabilities. The “One Big Beautiful Bill Act” allocates more than $170 billion over four years for law enforcement at the borders and within the country, with a stated goal of deporting one million immigrants each year.

This phenomenal budget increase is accompanied by an unprecedented expansion of detention capacity. The Brennan Center for Justice reports that two-thirds of ICE’s funding—$45 billion over four years—will be used to detain immigrants, potentially more than 100,000 people per year. The $11.25 billion added to ICE’s annual detention budget represents a 400% increase over the previous year and exceeds the Department of Justice’s budget request for fiscal year 2026 for the entire federal prison system, which houses 155,000 people.

When I think of these billions invested in detention, in separation, in fear, I wonder what we could have done with that money. Build schools, hospitals, infrastructure; create opportunities; build a future. Instead, we choose to invest in walls, in cages, in suffering. It’s a choice that saddens me, that baffles me, that makes me question our collective priorities.

An Unprecedented Expansion of Staff

In early January 2026, ICE boasted that it had hired more than 12,000 new agents and civil servants in less than a year, bringing the agency’s workforce to an increase of approximately 120%. According to an official DHS press release, ICE received more than 220,000 applications from “American patriots” eager to join the agency, far exceeding its initial goal of 10,000 new agents. The agency has effectively doubled its workforce, growing from 10,000 to 22,000 agents and officers in record time—an expansion unprecedented in the agency’s history.

However, this rapid expansion of the workforce raises serious concerns about the quality of training and background checks. According to PBS, ICE, alongside its intensified recruitment efforts, reportedly rushed the process of integrating new recruits into training programs before they had been fully vetted. This rush to hire, driven by political and budgetary pressure, risks compromising the integrity and professionalism of agents in the field, potentially increasing the risk of abuse of power and human rights violations.

I cannot help but feel deeply concerned when I learn that thousands of new agents are being recruited and deployed without adequate training or the rigorous background checks that should accompany any position of authority. It is like arming an army without training it, like granting power without the responsibility that goes with it. These officers will face complex, human, and emotional situations, and without proper training, how can we expect them to act with discernment and compassion?

The Shootings in Portland

A series of other videos from the field in recent months has further fueled criticism of how ICE conducts its operations. Shortly after the woman’s death in Minnesota, agents shot and killed Luis David Nic Moncada and Yorlenys Betzabeth Zambrano-Contreras in Portland, sparking a new wave of outrage. These incidents, which occurred within a short period of time, suggest a pattern of excessive use of deadly force by ICE agents during arrest and detention operations.

The circumstances surrounding these shootings remain under investigation, but the recurrence of such tragic incidents raises fundamental questions about ICE’s engagement protocols. How has an agency responsible for enforcing immigration laws come to use such lethal force with such frequency? These tragic deaths represent more than just statistics; they are shattered human lives, destroyed families, and communities in mourning, with each incident leaving deep and lasting scars.

Every life lost is a tragedy, every family torn apart is a catastrophe, every community in mourning bears a burden that is far too heavy. These shootings, these deaths, this pain—they pile up like a monument to our collective failure, to our inability to treat immigration with humanity and justice. I feel each of these losses as a personal wound, as if the very fabric of our society were tearing apart a little more with every incident.

The shocking videos circulating on social media

A video quickly went viral on social media showing an ICE agent brutally knocking Monic Moreta-Galarza to the ground inside an immigration court building in New York. The masked agent grabbed her by the hair as she clung desperately to her husband, pleading with the agents who were arresting her. They tore her away from him while other agents held back her tearful children. An American citizen on her way to a medical appointment in Minneapolis was pulled from her car by immigration agents. Aliya Rahman said she was taken to a detention center where she was denied medical care and lost consciousness.

In Los Angeles, a security camera captured the moment a masked agent pinned a 79-year-old man to the ground in front of a laundromat. Rafie Ollah Shouhed, 79, suffered multiple broken ribs, elbow injuries, and a head injury during the incident, ABC News reports. Another incident was documented at a Mexican restaurant in Minnesota that closed after U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents raided the premises and arrested the owners and another employee. In June 2025 in Pasadena, California, it was documented that an ICE agent drew a handgun and pointed it at a civilian who was photographing the license plate of a service vehicle.

Watching these videos leaves me speechless, distraught, and broken. Seeing these law enforcement officers treat human beings like cattle, like criminals, like objects without dignity—it’s something that makes me ashamed of my country, of our civilization. The tears of these children separated from their mothers, the pain of this elderly man who was brutalized, the humiliation of this woman torn away from her husband—all of this resonates within me like a cry of despair that cuts across time and space.

The Reality Behind the Rhetoric

Although the Trump administration justifies its policy with the mantra of arresting the “worst of the worst”—that is, the most dangerous undocumented immigrants—in practice, these brutal arrests also target people whose only “crime” is of an administrative nature. These are workers on whom the U.S. economy relies heavily. These are jobs that many legal American workers generally avoid, ranging from cleaning to washing dishes in restaurants to seasonal work in the fields.

This dichotomy between official rhetoric and operational reality reveals a profound inconsistency in current U.S. immigration policy. On the one hand, the government claims to target dangerous criminals and threats to national security. On the other, ICE agents are arresting essential workers who actively contribute to the U.S. economy—fathers and mothers who have committed no crime other than seeking a better life for themselves and their loved ones. This contradiction suggests that the true motivation is not public safety but rather a show of force and a policy of large-scale deportation.

This hypocrisy revolts me. How can we claim to be targeting criminals while arresting people who work hard, pay taxes, raise families, and contribute to our society? These arrests are not security operations; they are acts of cruelty, displays of power, and attacks on human dignity. I feel a deep anger when I see this injustice, this callousness in the face of human suffering.

The Impact on Communities and the Economy

The mass arrests of essential workers are having devastating consequences on local communities and the U.S. economy as a whole. Restaurants, farms, construction companies, and cleaning services suddenly find themselves without a workforce, facing significant economic losses and major operational disruptions. Families are torn apart; children are left at school without anyone to pick them up; wives are left alone with young children and bills to pay, without their husbands’ support.

The psychological impact on immigrant communities is just as devastating. The pervasive fear of ICE raids creates a climate of terror in which parents are afraid to send their children to school, workers are afraid to go to their jobs, and families are afraid to leave their homes even for essential needs such as medical care. This atmosphere of fear and insecurity undermines the social fabric of immigrant communities and even of American society as a whole, transforming once-vibrant neighborhoods into places of suspicion and anxiety.

This orchestrated terror, this methodical fear—that is what makes my blood run cold. I think of the children growing up in the shadow of this fear, of the parents living with the constant dread of being arrested, separated, and deported. This is not just an immigration policy; it is a psychology of terror, social engineering based on fear. How can we accept that our society functions this way, in fear and suspicion?

Historical Prison Population

The number of detainees in the custody of U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) has reached a new all-time high. As of last Thursday, ICE was detaining approximately 73,000 people facing deportation nationwide—the highest level ever recorded by the agency and an 84% increase compared to the same period in 2025, when its detention population remained below 40,000. It is worth noting that approximately 47 percent—or about 34,000—of ICE detainees had criminal charges or convictions in the United States. The remainder of the detainees are classified by ICE as “immigration law violators,” meaning they have not been convicted of crimes.

This surge in the detention population represents an unprecedented expansion of administrative incarceration in the United States. Unlike the traditional criminal justice system, where detainees have been charged with and convicted of crimes, the majority of ICE detainees are incarcerated for administrative violations of immigration law. This fundamental distinction raises constitutional questions about prolonged incarceration without criminal charges or a fair trial, essentially transforming the U.S. immigration system into a system of mass incarceration.

I am horrified when I think of those 73,000 human beings behind bars—not for crimes, but for administrative violations. Each of them has a story, a family, dreams, and each of them endures the humiliation, fear, and despair of detention. It is a scale of incarceration that defies comprehension, reminiscent of the darkest chapters in human history.

The Dramatic Increase in Non-Criminal Detainees

If we focus exclusively on ICE detainees initially apprehended by the agency itself rather than by the Border Patrol, we see a 2,500% increase in the number of non-criminal detainees from January 26, 2025 (945) to January 7, 2026 (24,644), according to the latest publicly available government data. This dramatic increase in the number of non-criminal detainees reveals that the expansion of ICE’s operations is not focused on dangerous criminals but on immigrants without legal status, regardless of their contributions to American society.

This shift in the profile of ICE’s detention population clearly demonstrates that the agency has abandoned its traditional mandate of targeting national security threats and dangerous criminals in favor of a blanket approach that targets all immigrants indiscriminately. The arrest and detention of tens of thousands of people with no criminal history represent a massive deployment of law enforcement resources for a blanket deportation policy that disregards the principles of proportionality and rational prioritization that should guide all public policy.

This 2,500% increase in less than a year is a statistic that leaves me speechless. How can we justify the incarceration of so many people with no criminal record? How can we accept that mothers, fathers, workers—human beings—are treated like criminals simply because they don’t have the right papers? This is a perversion of justice, a betrayal of our fundamental values.

Comparisons to the Gestapo

A segment of the public and politicians are increasingly describing ICE as the Gestapo, the secret police of Nazi Germany. Podcast host Joe Rogan compared ICE’s tactics to those of the Gestapo. “Trump’s modern-day Gestapo is rounding people up off the streets. In unmarked vans, wearing masks, they send them to foreign dungeons to be tortured; they have no chance to defend themselves, they don’t even get a chance to kiss their loved ones goodbye before they leave—they’re just seized by masked agents, shoved into these vans, and disappear,” said Minnesota Governor Tim Walz.

These comparisons to the Gestapo, though controversial, reflect a deep concern about ICE’s methods and philosophy. The tactics of anonymous arrests, the use of unmarked vehicles, the masking of agents, and the lack of transparency and accountability—all of this is reminiscent of the methods of totalitarian regimes of the past. These comparisons are not made lightly but reflect a genuine anxiety about the direction U.S. immigration policy is taking and the way democratic principles are being eroded by a policy of mass repression.

I shuddered when I heard these comparisons, when I realized that serious observers see parallels between our current policies and the darkest chapters of European history. It is a comparison that should give us pause, that should concern us, that should spur us to action. If we see similarities with the Gestapo, it’s because something is terribly wrong with our society.

The Controversial Figure of Gregory Bovin

In public discourse, the case of Gregory Bovin—a DHS official whose appearance in a long black trench coat in promotional videos and in the field has been widely shared online—has drawn comparisons to the imagery of Nazi Germany. He is not an ICE agent, but a commander in the DHS Border Patrol system; nevertheless, he has become one of the most recognizable faces of Trump’s immigration crackdown. His theatrical and militaristic demeanor, his bellicose statements, and his prominent role in enforcement operations have fueled comparisons to the repressive forces of authoritarian regimes of the past.

This DHS official’s unwitting fame raises fundamental questions about how the government presents its immigration enforcement policies to the public. The use of militaristic and dramatic imagery, along with the glorification of force and repression, all contribute to creating a culture of acceptance for methods that would otherwise be unacceptable in a democracy. Gregory Bovin’s transformation into a media figurehead for immigration enforcement reveals the gradual normalization of tactics and philosophies that should be deeply at odds with traditional American values.

To see this militarized figure become a symbol of current American politics is like witnessing a disturbing transformation, a drift back toward a past we thought we had left behind. That black trench coat, that military posture, that bellicose rhetoric—all of this evokes memories we thought we had forgotten, ghosts we thought we had exorcised. How did we get here?

The ICE as a Paramilitary Force

Given all of the above, it’s no surprise that critics describe ICE as a paramilitary force, as the Financial Times does. The FT reporter notes that in Minneapolis, ICE is everywhere, lying in wait and creating a pervasive sense of fear and anxiety. MS Now writes that we are witnessing something sinister and notes that ICE does not behave like a normal branch of the federal police and is increasingly acting like a secret police or a paramilitary force. The Atlantic put forward the argument in its headline that ICE has become Trump’s secret army, suggesting that the sweeping crackdown on immigration has transformed America into what might be called a “fear-based society.”

This transformation of ICE into a paramilitary force poses a fundamental threat to American democratic values. A secret police force that operates anonymously, indiscriminately arrests people, and incarcerates masses of individuals without criminal charges—all of this bears a closer resemblance to the methods of authoritarian regimes than to the practices of a liberal democracy. The massive expansion of ICE’s powers, combined with a lack of accountability and transparency, creates conditions ripe for abuse of power and the erosion of civil liberties.

I am overcome with deep fear when I witness this transformation. ICE is no longer an immigration agency; it has become an occupying army, a force of terror that sows fear in communities. It is as if we were creating a state within a state—a force that is accountable to no one, that operates in the shadows, and that threatens the very foundations of our democracy.

The Future of U.S. Immigration Policy

The continued expansion of ICE’s powers, combined with the massive increase in its budget and staffing levels, suggests that repressive immigration policies will only intensify in the coming years. Massive funding for incarceration and deportation, the prioritization of mass arrests over targeted operations, and the normalization of militarized tactics—all of this points to a political direction that favors repression over integration, fear over compassion, and exclusion over inclusion.

However, this draconian approach is facing growing opposition from civil rights groups, affected communities, and even some members of Congress who are concerned about the erosion of democratic values and potential violations of constitutional rights. The future of U.S. immigration policy remains uncertain, but one thing is clear: ICE, as it currently operates, represents a profound and disturbing transformation of the way America treats its immigrants and, potentially, of the way it conceives of the relationship between the government and its citizens.

I stand tall, but I tremble. I look at what we are becoming—this machine of repression we are building, this society of fear we are creating—and I ask: Is this really who we want to be? ICE is not just an agency; it is a mirror of our collective soul, a reflection of our moral and political choices. In that mirror, I see frightened faces, separated families, shattered dreams. And I ask: Have we truly forgotten what it means to be American? Have we truly lost sight of the path that made us great?