A look at Tren de Aragua, the criminal group subject to Trump's deportation orders in Venezuela.
Halted in its tracks, the Trump administration's controversial move to expel 261 individuals, some accused of belonging to the infamous Venezuelan gang, Tren de Aragua, has landed them in El Salvador's notorious maximum-security prison. This decision caused a stir, not just because the president invoked the Alien Enemies Act, an ancient law seldom used during peacetime, but also due to a federal judge's attempt to block the deportations. The White House defended its actions, stating that the migrants had already left U.S. territory by the time the court order was issued.
This isn't the first time Trump's administration has zeroed in on Tren de Aragua. On January 20, an executive order was signed, barring Tren de Aragua, along with the notorious MS-13 gang from Salvador, and six Mexican drug cartels, from being designated as foreign terrorist organizations.
However, the latest move has stirred up criticism. critics question the administration's lack of identification of the deportees and evidence supporting their alleged affiliation with the gang. A prime example is Daniel Simancas Rodríguez, who spent 15 days in detention at Guantanamo Bay before being deported to Venezuela. He claimed that US authorities suspected him due to his tattoos and hailing from Maracay, the original stomping grounds of Tren de Aragua.
The Tren de Aragua originated in a Venezuelan prison and has been expanding both north and south in recent years, establishing a presence in the United States. The gang's widespread influence has been felt not only in Venezuela but countries like Bolivia, Colombia, Chile, and Peru. In Colombia, Tren de Aragua and a guerrilla group known as the National Liberation Army operate sex trafficking networks in the border town of Villa del Rosario and Norte de Santander.
The gang's activities are diverse, focusing primarily on human trafficking and other crimes targeting migrants, but also involving extortion, kidnapping, money laundering, and drug smuggling, according to the U.S. Department of the Treasury's Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC). The gang's methods are brutal, often killing victims who try to escape and making a spectacle of their deaths as a warning to others.
Information on the exact numbers of Tren de Aragua members in the U.S. is elusive, and some Venezuelan immigrants have reported witnessing similar criminal activities in Florida and other states. The gang has established transnational financial operations, laundered funds through cryptocurrency, and formed ties with the U.S.-sanctioned Primeiro Comando da Capital, a notorious Brazilian organized crime group, according to the OFAC.
Law enforcement officials face challenges in tracking down Tren de Aragua members due to the difficulty in knowing how many are already in the U.S. Some believe that the gang's reputation has grown faster than its actual presence in the United States, with no evidence of cells cooperating with one another or taking instructions from the gang's leadership.
With the U.S. government sanctions on Tren de Aragua potentially having minimal impact on the gang's day-to-day operations, the war against this violent organized crime group continues to rage both in the streets and in the courts. As the Trump administration struggles to control the sprawling, territorial grip of Tren de Aragua, communities across the nation brace for the potential consequences of this ongoing battle against crime and corruption.
The Trump administration's recent decision to deport 261 individuals, some alleged to belong to Tren de Aragua, has placed them in El Salvador's maximum-security prison, despite concerns about lack of identification and evidence. Daniel Simancas Rodríguez, one of the deportees, claims he was targeted due to his tattoos and Maracay origins. Tren de Aragua, originating from a Venezuelan prison, has cells not only in Venezuela but also in the United States, where their activities include human trafficking and other crimes.
