In a move steeped in political controversy, Liberia has agreed—on what it calls a “strictly humanitarian and temporary basis”—to accept Kilmar Abrego, the migrant whose wrongful deportation to El Salvador earlier this year became a flashpoint in Donald Trump’s immigration crackdown.
According to a U.S. Justice Department filing, Abrego could be removed to the West African nation as early as October 31, though a federal judge in Maryland has temporarily halted his deportation while reviewing his plea for release from detention. The administration’s latest deal with Liberia could shape the court’s next steps, but the broader implications extend far beyond a single case.
Abrego’s story has already ricocheted through Washington. A sheet metal worker living in Maryland with his wife and three children—all U.S. citizens—he was deported to El Salvador in violation of a court order, landing him in a notorious mega-prison infamous for its brutal conditions. When the error surfaced, he was returned to the United States, only to face criminal charges of migrant smuggling—charges his attorneys describe as retaliation for his legal challenge.
Now, the Trump administration is seeking to deport him again, this time to Liberia, a nation to which Abrego has no connection. His lawyer, Simon Sandoval-Moshenberg, blasted the plan as “punitive, cruel, and unconstitutional,” accusing the government of choosing a destination “designed to inflict maximum hardship.”
Liberia’s government, for its part, emphasized that Abrego will not be sent to any country where he risks persecution or torture. The U.S. administration had reportedly approached several other African nations—including Uganda, Eswatini, and Ghana—before securing Liberia’s agreement.
Abrego’s legal team continues to push for an alternative destination, naming Costa Rica as a more suitable option given linguistic and cultural ties. Meanwhile, his next hearing in Nashville could probe whether his criminal case was born out of political retaliation, adding yet another layer of complexity to an already tangled immigration saga.
The Justice Department has defended its move by citing Liberia’s “historic ties” to the United States and what it described as the nation’s “humane treatment of refugees.” Yet, a recent State Department report flagged serious human rights concerns in the country—including extrajudicial killings—casting doubt on those assurances.
What began as one man’s wrongful deportation has evolved into a test of how far the U.S. government will go to enforce its immigration agenda—and how many borders it’s willing to cross to do it.
