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accountability
Opioid Settlement Funds Belong to the Public: Communities Want Healing, Not Punishment
This money was won because communities suffered extraordinary harm and hundreds of thousands of people lost their lives, so funds should build and expand capacity of much-needed health infrastructure and create lasting systems of care.
Aug 31, 2026
Nearly $58 billion is now flowing into states and local governments after the recent settlement with Purdue Pharma and other companies whose actions fueled the overdose epidemic, one of the deadliest public health crises in American history. For the first time in a generation, local communities have a critical opportunity to decide how this money is spent and allocate funding to build systems on their own terms, systems that actually save lives and provide care rooted in dignity.
The question is whether state, county, and municipal officials will actually take that chance.
The settlement money belongs to the people that paid the price. It is restitution for those lives lost, for families devastated, and for communities harmed not only by addiction and overdose, but by decades of failed punitive policies that criminalized suffering instead of treating it. It doesn’t belong to politicians, hospital systems, police departments, or consultants.
That means people directly impacted by overdose, addiction, incarceration, homelessness, and family separation should help decide how these dollars are spent. Too often, they are shut out of that decision entirely. In many states, opioid settlement decisions are made in private meetings with little public awareness, minimal reporting requirements, and limited opportunities for ordinary residents to participate. Some local governments still have no meaningful public process at all.
As federal health and social service funding faces growing cuts, many states and localities are quietly eyeing opioid settlement dollars to backfill budget gaps or prop up systems that should already be publicly funded.
When people get involved, the results improve. More states are passing legislation requiring reports on opioid settlement spending. In Hancock County, Maine, there was initially no public framework for opioid settlement spending. After a local advocate stepped forward to engage county officials, authorities created a committee of community stakeholders, including people with firsthand lived experience, to help advise how to spend those funds. In Buffalo, New York, public scrutiny and press attention around the use of settlement spending on things like police equipment and snowblowers pushed local leaders toward better investments, such as recovery coaches and treatment clinic upgrades, in later funding rounds. We can see how public engagement changes outcomes.
New Jersey committed nearly $119 million to expand harm reduction centers offering naloxone distribution, syringe access, mobile outreach, and connections to care. Kentucky continues to invest in a network of legal aid providers helping people impacted by drug use expunge their criminal records. Portland, Maine spreads its opioid funds across three efforts: a needle buyback program that removes used syringes from public spaces; a housing first program that gets people into stable housing without requiring sobriety first; and contingency management, which rewards people with incentives like gift cards for staying off stimulants such as meth and cocaine.
We also know what does not work. Nevertheless, across the country, settlement dollars are still being spent on police equipment, surveillance technology, jail expansions, and outmoded treatment programs that forbid modern medications, and ineffective "just say no" style prevention campaigns. Some jurisdictions have purchased drones, tasers, license plate readers, police dogs, and narcotics detection equipment using funds that were supposed to heal communities harmed by overdose.
The most insidious trend may be one the public cannot easily see: supplantation. According to best practice guidance from Johns Hopkins University and endorsed by more than 60 organizations including my own, supplantation advises that opioid settlement funds must not replace existing funding sources. But as federal health and social service funding faces growing cuts, many states and localities are quietly eyeing opioid settlement dollars to backfill budget gaps or prop up systems that should already be publicly funded. Settlement dollars should not replace Medicaid; they should not compensate for cuts to public health infrastructure. They were never meant to become a government slush fund.
This money was won because communities suffered extraordinary harm and hundreds of thousands of people lost their lives. Funds should build and expand capacity of much-needed health infrastructure and create lasting systems of care, not patch holes created by shifting political priorities. It’s not that settlement funds should never stabilize existing programs; in some cases, communities may need to use these dollars temporarily to sustain lifesaving services that would otherwise disappear. But those decisions must happen transparently, with public input, and with a clear understanding of the trade-offs involved. Advocates have issued guidelines that can help jurisdictions think through these challenging decisions.
There is reason for cautious optimism. Advocates, impacted families, and community organizations across the country are building models for transparency, accountability, and evidence-based investment. A new National Roadmap for Spending Opioid Settlement Funds can help communities understand their local processes and push for smarter spending. It also documents problematic and promising spending across the country. Advocates in Maine, New York, and New Jersey have created websites to help community members get involved in directing opioid settlement funds. The Maine Recovery Action Project has created a national toolkit that anyone can use to start organizing residents to have a say in spending decisions.
Residents should ask simple but critical questions, such as: Where is the money going? Who benefits? What evidence supports these investments? Who was consulted?
The overdose crisis was perpetrated by decisions, made over the course of decades, that never faced accountability. We cannot afford to repeat that mistake now with resources made available to repair the damage.
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We Cannot Allow ICE Killings to Become Normal
We cannot allow these deaths to become routine, and we cannot let them disappear into statistics. Every death should force us to ask what kind of country we are becoming.
Aug 29, 2026
Jose Chajon-Raxon, an immigrant from Guatemala, died this August at Delaney Hall, a controversial Immigration and Customs Enforcement facility in New Jersey. His death marks more than 50 deaths in ICE custody since President Donald Trump took office last year.
Despite all the controversies, ICE keeps killing people—a sentence that should never feel normal. We should never find ourselves counting the days between deaths or waiting for the next headline. But somehow, we have.
Earlier this year it was Renee Good, then Alex Pretti. This summer it was Lorenzo Salgado Araujo and Joan Sebastián Durán Guerrero. Before them were Silviero Villegas Gonzalez and Ruben Ray Martinez. Those are only the names we know—many others will never make national news.
The day I read about Durán Guerrero’s death, I was returning home from work. I glanced at the headline and kept going. That’s what scared me the most. I wasn’t shocked that ICE had killed someone—I expected it.
No matter where you were born, what political party you belong to, or whether you support stricter immigration enforcement, no government should have the power to kill or imprison people with so little accountability.
Only later, when I stopped and read the details, did it hit me: He was shot multiple times. His 3-year-old daughter, wearing Bluey pajamas, was in the car when it happened. According to his family’s attorney, Durán Guerrero was lawfully present in the United States and had a work permit. And he wasn’t even the person ICE was looking for when he was shot.
After shooting Durán Guerrero, officers pulled him from the vehicle and handcuffed him. By then, he may already have been dead.
These are not tragic misunderstandings. These are choices.
Imagine seeing armed people in tactical gear—no body cam, their faces covered—surrounding your car. Most people would be terrified. Most people would try to get away. Durán Guerrero tried to stop, but it did not matter—the agents fired on him anyway.
ICE continues carrying out operations with masked agents in unmarked vehicles, creating confusion and fear before a single word is spoken. Immigration officers have fired on at least 30 people since President Trump returned to office. Eight of those people were killed.
Each time, the government tells us the agents acted in self-defense. Public statements quickly frame the victim as the threat. Witness testimony and video evidence often cast doubt on these accounts, but they still shift the focus away from the loss of human life and toward justifying why it happened.
Meanwhile, tens of thousands of people are still being detained every month.
In June 2026, ICE arrested more than 43,000 people, about 1,400 every day. By July, nearly 68,000 people were being held in immigration detention. The overwhelming majority of those arrested had no criminal convictions.
This includes over 6,000 children. Children who are spending their birthdays behind bars. Children who should be back in school, safe and protected. Many have been detained for 100 days or more—five times longer than the 20-day limit for detaining immigrant children.
They’re being held in facilities like Delaney and others, where human rights groups have warned repeatedly that dangerous conditions are leading to preventable deaths. ICE deaths reached their highest level in decades last year, and this year is on track to be no better.
These numbers matter. Every statistic was someone’s father, daughter, husband, neighbor, friend.
I’m afraid of how easy it has become to read another headline and move on. I know because I caught myself doing exactly that.
No matter where you were born, what political party you belong to, or whether you support stricter immigration enforcement, no government should have the power to kill or imprison people with so little accountability. No family should have to watch a loved one become another name on a growing list.
We cannot allow these deaths to become routine, and we cannot let them disappear into statistics. Every death should force us to ask what kind of country we are becoming. We cannot normalize these killings, and we cannot stop demanding justice and accountability.
We should never get used to counting ICE’s victims.
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An ICE Killing in Maine Shows Why Vets Need Vetting—And Not Just in Politics
Under current circumstances, no friends, family members, or employment counselors of young veterans should encourage them to answer the siren call of ICE—no matter how much they need a job.
Aug 12, 2026
The media spent a lot of time this summer examining whether a certain Maine oysterman and Marine veteran seeking federal employment should have been better vetted by those around him.
Even after Graham Platner abandoned his US Senate bid, his friends and foes argue about whether service-related conditions—which earned him a 100% disability rating from the Department of Veterans Affairs (VA)—contributed to past substance abuse, mental health problems, and aggression against intimate partners.
Now, in the same state, the spotlight has shifted to David Brouillette, a troubled Afghan war vet who might also have been better off harvesting oysters. Brouillette spent eight years in the US Army and state National Guard before getting hired for not one, but two federal jobs. Thanks to an ill-advised push to recruit more ex-military personnel for law enforcement roles, without proper background checks, he got to carry a gun again.
Last month, after serving as a Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) police officer, a prison guard, and then joining the Department of Homeland Security (DHS), Brouillette fatally shot Johan Sebastian Duran Guerrero, a young Colombian immigrant, during a traffic stop in Biddeford, Maine.
The Vet-to-Cop Pipeline
Thanks to Congress allocating $30 billion to create 10,000 more positions for that agency between 2025 and 2030—and job cuts at other federal departments, which often employ veterans—more ex-soldiers are getting hired into a paramilitary workforce, with insufficient screening, minimal training, and leaders who valorize brutality. Those who have already been cops go to the head of the line for signing bonuses as high as $50,000.
Brouillette is among the 200,000 veterans disproportionately represented in the nation’s nearly 1 million law enforcement jobs, ranging from local police departments to the fast-growing Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE).
During a 10-year period, nearly one-third of more than 500 cops involved in a shooting incident were veterans.
For their own good and the welfare of all Americans, some of these vets should not trade one uniform for another. That’s because past military service not only produces Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD); it can also leave former service members with traumatic brain injuries that trigger aggressive and impulsive behavior.
In the case of Maine mass shooter Robert Card, a longtime Army Reserve grenade range instructor who never served in combat, that condition led to the slaughter of 18 neighbors at a bar and bowling alley in Lewiston, Maine, almost three years ago. Far more common is the rocky personal transition to civilian life typified by twice-divorced Brouillette, whose father and brother also served in the military.
Mental Health Issues
According to Brouillette’s first ex-wife, Ashley, he first became verbally and physically abusive after joining the military in 2007. His subsequent misbehavior, she told The New York Times, included choking her, slamming her to the floor, and pushing her against a wall. In 2012, such “threats and harassment were so persistent,” she fled the state to escape him. “He has mental health issues, he’s short-tempered, he’s reactive, [and] he should be in treatment,” she says.
Seven years later, his next ex-wife sought a restraining order against Brouillette after he “broke her door down, destroyed her belongings, and dumped her clothes over a bridge,” and spat in her face. In her court filing, she expressed fear about his stalking her by “coming to my home or sitting in the parking lot of my work.” So, as CNN found, a judge twice issued temporary orders requiring Brouillette to relinquish any firearms in 2019 and 2021.
To make matters worse, when Brouillette retrained to become a firefighter in 2021, a heavy I-beam fell on his head, inflicting serious damage. In a lawsuit over the accident, he confessed to having “impaired memory, cognitive deficits, headaches, vertigo, and high sensitivity.”
Long before he fired the shots that killed Guerrero, he had already worked among VA patients and staff in Maine, as part of an agency police force with its own troubled history of using excessive force. And then he moved on seamlessly to ICE last December, despite a checkered court record and non-military head injury that should have been disqualifying.
A Bad Career Choice
When we were researching an earlier book on veterans, two retired Army officers, both West Point grads, expressed deep concern about policing, of any kind, as a post-military career among veterans at risk for substance abuse and suicide because of PTSD, chronic pain, or traumatic brain injuries.
Daniel Sjursen, a much-decorated major who served in Afghanistan and Iraq, told us that, “when you leave the service, there’s no de-programming…They just load you up on meds, and then you go straight to the police academy.” Because “military-style of policing is based on the notion that high-crime areas should be treated like occupied countries, a guy can come back to Baltimore, Camden, or Detroit and function the same way we did when occupying Kabul or Baghdad.”
As his fellow officer, a Gulf War combat vet and military historian Andrew Bacevic noted, “To the extent that we’ve got a bunch of damaged young people, then maybe the last thing we want to do is put them in a job where they carry a gun in an environment that’s going to make things worse.”
So don’t hold your breath waiting for justice for Johan Sebastian Duran Guerrero. For the last 18 months, federal immigration agents have operated with far less public oversight and accountability than any local police department.
Even during Barack Obama’s administration, the US Department of Justice (DOJ) was not listening to such knowledgeable insiders. Instead, the DOJ provided local police departments around the country with tens of millions of dollars to fund veterans-only positions.
As noted in a 2017 report by the Marshall Project, “When Warriors Put On the Badge,” this combination of special funding and preferential hiring mandated by state or federal law has made it harder to “build police forces that resemble and understand diverse communities.” The new hires benefiting most have been disproportionately white, because 60% of all enlisted men and women are not people of color.
Inappropriate Use of Force
Under the first Trump administration, the DOJ had little interest in tracking the later job performance of recently hired veterans or how their military background might affect their behavior.
By that time, however, the International Association of Chiefs of Police (IACP) had already raised concerns about “the integration of military personnel” into law enforcement. In their own 2009 hiring guide, the IACP noted that, in the case of returning combat veterans from Iraq or Afghanistan, their combat environment and their policing environments may appear surprisingly similar.”
As a result, prior military service in the Middle East “may cause returning officers to mistakenly blur the lines between military combat situations and civilian crime situations, resulting in inappropriate decisions and actions, particularly in the use of lethal force.”
Cosponsored by the DOJ’s Bureau of Justice Assistance, this IACP report also noted that vets who have PTSD and related “depression, anger, withdrawal, and family issues” may have “a low tolerance for civilian complaints” and greater propensity for the “inappropriate use of force.” Some police chiefs interviewed reported that veterans under their command had come back “ill prepared for the civilian world” because their PTSD left them with “exaggerated survival instincts.”
Officer-Involved Shootings
Researchers at the University of Texas School of Public Health found that Dallas Police Department officers with military experience used their guns while on duty more than non-veterans. During a 10-year period, nearly one-third of more than 500 cops involved in a shooting incident were veterans. Those who had been deployed overseas were nearly three times as likely to have fired their weapon; those who had not been deployed were still twice as likely to be involved in a shooting. This study, published in the Journal of Public Health, concluded that some veterans employed by the Dallas police department lacked “critical thinking skills” when confronted with “high stress scenarios.”
The Marshall Project reported similar findings after it studied use-of-force complaints and fatal police shootings in several cities. In Boston and Miami, officers with military experience generated more civilian complaints of excessive force. Nearly one-third of the Albuquerque officers involved in a total of 35 fatal shootings between January 2010 and April 2014 were veterans. One of the officers sued after killing an unarmed motorist was an Iraq War veteran whose PTSD caused flashbacks, nightmares, and blackouts. Nevertheless, as the Marshall Project discovered, he was “assigned to patrol a high-crime area of town known as ‘the War Zone.’”
“To ensure public safety and guarantee a stable, reliable, and productive workforce,” Marshall Project researchers cited the need for clear and consistent police department policies to “evaluate employees’ mental and physical fitness. Yet local police department screening practices, around the country, remain far from standardized or effective. Some agencies employ the use of administrative interviews and psychological evaluations to assess how veteran officers will perform the essential functions of their position, while other agencies revert to their department medical officer, or lack any policy at all.”
No Local Constraints
Whatever unhelpful contribution to militarized policing has been made by hiring too many post-9/11 vets, new and old cops in Dallas, Boston, Miami, and other cities at least walk the streets without masks on. They display badges with their names and, in most places, wear body cameras as well. If they screw up in a high-stress situation, they are subject to internal affairs investigations or civilian police review board questioning, particularly if an officer-involved shooting has occurred.
When an Army veteran named Derek Chauvin put George Floyd in a fatal choke hold six years ago in Minneapolis, he was even prosecuted and sentenced to a long prison term. When another military veteran named Jonathan Rose—a former machine gunner in Iraq deployed in the Twin Cities last winter as an ICE agent—fired on Renee Good, did he face any criminal charges for killing a gay non-immigrant mother of three? Not yet.
So don’t hold your breath waiting for justice for Johan Sebastian Duran Guerrero. For the last 18 months, federal immigration agents have operated with far less public oversight and accountability than any local police department. In the process, they have killed 23 people under circumstances that homicide detectives and local prosecutors have been blocked from properly investigating.
The Department of Homeland Security has just doubled down on its policy of not releasing the names of officers involved in these fatal encounters. Agents of the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) have been directed to stop investigating claims by those, like David Brouillette, who say they used lethal force in response to being endangered.
Under current circumstances, no friends, family members, or employment counselors of young veterans should encourage them to answer the siren call of ICE—no matter how much they need a job. As one former ICE official told the Boston Globe, ”We should all be concerned… that they have lowered standards, that they have rushed hiring, and they have made offers to people before their vetting is complete.”
Even if applicants from military backgrounds lack the self-confessed “cognitive deficits” of Brouillette, wearing camo again—while stopping traffic, knocking down doors, brandishing automatic weapons, and engaging in car chases—is not a healthy career choice, for them or us.
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The Presidency Is a Public Trust, Not a Personal Monument
The Trump administration has devoted extraordinary attention, taxpayer dollars, and even the power of government to projects centered on the president himself instead of the challenges facing the American people and the core responsibilities of government.
Aug 10, 2026
While Americans worried about rising costs at home and another war in the Middle East, President Donald Trump spent much of June talking about construction projects at the White House.
According to a Washington Post analysis of the president's speeches, interviews, social media posts, and other public remarks, he discussed his construction and beautification projects on nearly 4 out of every 5 days in June—more often than healthcare or wages, and about as often as inflation and prices.
That focus has become so pronounced that veteran White House reporter Maggie Haberman recently remarked that roughly "70%" of President Trump's attention appears devoted to his renovation projects.
The issue isn't just President Trump's construction projects. It's what they reveal about this presidency's priorities. Again and again, this administration has devoted extraordinary attention, taxpayer dollars, and even the power of government to projects centered on the president himself instead of the challenges facing the American people and the core responsibilities of government.
Americans should expect the same urgency in pursuing justice for survivors and greater transparency that this administration showed in protecting a presidential monument.
To begin with, consider where President Trump has chosen to focus his attention.
Over the past several months, President Trump has repeatedly returned to his new White House ballroom, the rebuilt Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, triumphal arches, portraits, flagpoles, and other additions that bear his personal imprint. When asked who his proposed triumphal arch was intended to honor, he answered with one word: "Me."
But few presidents have devoted so much attention to themselves while Americans confronted far more pressing challenges. Families continue to struggle with the cost of groceries, housing, childcare, and healthcare. Students and parents are trying to pay for college. Small businesses face rising costs and tariff uncertainty. Conflict in the Middle East threatens American service members, regional stability, and higher energy prices here at home.
Second, consider how those same priorities have shaped the way taxpayer dollars have been spent.
A recent New York Times analysis found that the known costs of the president's construction projects total roughly $1.2 billion. In my home state of Illinois, that same money could restore Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program benefits for almost all families expected to lose them this year or preserve Medicaid coverage for nearly 130,000 residents at risk of losing it.
Finally, the most troubling example is how this administration has used the power of government.
The Justice Department aggressively pursued people accused of damaging President Trump's Reflecting Pool. One defendant, former Olympic canoeist David Hearn, faced a felony carrying up to 10 years in prison before prosecutors acknowledged last week that the damage was caused by a botched installation—not vandalism—and dropped the case.
Since Jeffrey Epstein's 2019 federal arrest, no one beyond Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell has been criminally prosecuted in the United States for participating in Epstein's sex-trafficking network, yet acting Attorney General Todd Blanche has defended the administration's refusal to release additional Epstein records while arguing there is no current basis for further prosecutions.
Years of litigation, congressional investigations, investigative reporting, and millions of pages of records have documented the network around Jeffrey Epstein. Leon Black paid Epstein more than $158 million. Lesley Groff spent 18 years as Epstein's longtime assistant, scheduling thousands of massages while Epstein abused underage girls. Yet the Justice Department has shown little urgency in pursuing accountability beyond Epstein and Maxwell.
The administration rushed to bring a felony case over alleged damage to President Trump's Reflecting Pool before acknowledging the damage resulted from a botched government installation—not vandalism—and dismissing the case. Yet when it comes to the people who enabled one of the largest sex-trafficking operations in modern history, that urgency has been nowhere to be found.
Every prosecution must rest on the evidence and the law. But Americans should expect the same urgency in pursuing justice for survivors and greater transparency that this administration showed in protecting a presidential monument.
The presidency is a public trust. It should be measured not by the monuments a president leaves behind, but by whether Americans are stronger, more secure, and more prosperous because of the choices he made.
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A US Passport Should Not Shield Violence in the West Bank
If an American participates in organized violence against civilians abroad, that person should be investigated. If evidence supports it, they should be prosecuted under applicable US law.
Aug 04, 2026
In a rare quiet moment inside the resuscitation room at Nasser Hospital in Gaza, I stood beside a young Palestinian man helping us treat waves of wounded children. He worked with calm precision. Focused. Unflinching.
Then he told me about his brother. Beaten nearly to death by Israeli settlers in the West Bank. Not once. Repeatedly. Ribs broken. Face shattered. The attacks ended only when his family fled the land they had farmed for generations.
“They wanted us gone,” he said. Some of the men who carry out this violence hold United States passports.
They live under American law. They vote in American elections. Then they travel abroad and take part in acts that, in any other context, would be recognized without hesitation: assault, arson, organized racial violence. Homes burned. Crops destroyed. Families driven off land.
An American who beats a man because of his ethnicity, drives him from his home, and destroys the means by which his family survives is not transformed into something else by crossing a border.
And then they return. They pass through US customs. They resume their lives. No charges. No investigation. No meaningful consequence.
This is not an abstraction. Human rights organizations, Israeli and international alike, have documented repeated incidents of settler violence in the West Bank: physical attacks on civilians, destruction of agricultural land, the burning of homes and olive groves, often carried out with little immediate accountability.
Some of those involved are Americans. Under US law, citizenship is extraordinarily difficult to revoke. The Supreme Court has made that clear. But citizenship is not the only instrument of accountability, and treating it as such allows something far worse to persist: impunity.
If an American participates in organized violence against civilians abroad, that person should be investigated. If evidence supports it, they should be prosecuted under applicable US law. If their actions meet the threshold of coordinated or systematic violence, then sanctions, asset restrictions, and limits on international travel should follow.
A passport should not function as a safe harbor.
In 2024, the United States took limited steps to sanction individuals and entities linked to settler violence. It was an acknowledgment, however modest, that this problem exists. In early 2025, that framework was dismantled.
The message was clear. Even minimal accountability was negotiable.
Meanwhile, the violence continues. This is where the question becomes unavoidable.
What does it mean for Israel, a country that defines itself as a democracy under law, to tolerate or fail to prevent organized violence by settlers against civilians in the West Bank?
And what does it mean for the United States to allow its own citizens to participate in that violence and return home untouched?
These are not separate questions. They are reflections of the same failure.
An American who beats a man because of his ethnicity, drives him from his home, and destroys the means by which his family survives is not transformed into something else by crossing a border. Geography does not dilute the crime. It only obscures it.
If that same act occurred in the United States, there would be no ambiguity in how it is described or prosecuted.
When it occurs in the West Bank as part of a broader pattern of displacement, it demands the same clarity.
The tools for accountability already exist. Federal statutes governing violent crime, conspiracy, and, in certain cases, war crimes. Sanctions authorities. Civil liability. Immigration and travel restrictions.
What is missing is not law. It is willingness.
Impunity is not an accident here. It is a decision, made repeatedly, on both sides of the ocean.
The man I met in Gaza was not asking for revenge. He was asking for the violence to stop. He was asking for a form of justice that does not end at a checkpoint or a border crossing.
A United States passport should carry weight. It should represent a commitment to law, not an escape from it.
Right now, in too many cases, it does the opposite. And everyone involved knows it.
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No Amount of ICE Killings Will Make America Great
In light of all this death, we must seriously ask ourselves: Are we, as a nation, greater because a 3-year-old girl will never know her father? Are federal agents murdering people working hard to provide for their families making any of our lives better? Are we safer because of ICE?
Jul 17, 2026
On July 13, an Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent in Biddeford, Maine murdered Joan Sebastian Durán Guerrero, a Colombian national authorized to work in the US. One of his neighbors described him as “an excellent person, a good father, good husband.”
The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) alleged that Guerrero “attempted to flee the scene and, fearing for public safety, an officer discharged his weapon.”
Yet, footage obtained by The New York Times shows Guerrero slowly driving in a circle as he is confronted by multiple agents—there is no evidence that he endangered anyone. One of their vehicles is clearly shown ramming into his. Afterwards, three agents surround the car with one pointing his gun at the driver’s side window. While not shown in the video, five gunshots can be heard. After the incident, there were four visible bullet holes on the front windshield.
Such excessive and unnecessary violence is the new norm. Last October, Marimar Martinez, a US citizen, was shot five times in her car. In December, Isaias Sanchez Barboza, a Mexican national, was shot at least three times. In January, Renee Nicole Good, a US citizen, was also shot three times, including one to her head. The same month, Alex Pretti, another US citizen, was shot at least 10 times in the span of five seconds.
So long as ICE exists, it will continue to kill.
This latest shooting comes less than a week after ICE agents in Houston murdered Lorenzo Salgado Araujo, a Mexican national who had lived in the US for 35 years. Here too, DHS blamed the victim. A DHS spokesperson alleged that Araujo “weaponized his vehicle in an attempt to run over an ICE law enforcement officer resulting in our officer firing his weapon in self-defense.” DHS used the same story to justify the murder of Good and shooting Martinez. As in those cases, video evidence and eyewitness accounts dispute the Trump administration’s narrative.
A week after Araujo’s death, the FBI filed a warrant application claiming that the agency has reason to believe that there were illegal drugs in the vehicle he was driving. FBI Special Agent David McNeilly alleged that he observed small plastic bags “with a white crystal-like substance” in the cargo van. The application cites probable cause for “distribution, manufacturing, or possession with intent to distribute a controlled substance and simple possession of a controlled substance.”
Domingo Garcia, the president of the League of United Latin American Citizens (LULAC) Adelante PAC, accused federal investigators of trying to “change the public discourse and prejudice a jury in Harris County.” He further remarked, “It just smells of a smear campaign and a cover up.”
Garcia is right to be suspicious. There are many documented cases of law enforcement planting drugs on victims. The Trump administration has also demonstrated time and time again that it is incapable of holding itself accountable. After shooting Martinez five times, Border Patrol agent Charles Exum was congratulated by then-Border Patrol Commander Gregory Bovino. Good and Pretti were immediately smeared as “domestic terrorists” by several members of the Trump administration, including by then-DHS Secretary Kristi Noem.
Moreover, this administration has actively sought to manipulate federal investigations into past ICE killings—this includes launching an investigation into Renee Good’s wife, Becca Good, while actively stopping probes into her murderer, Jonathan Ross. They have also intentionally delayed turning over key evidence to state prosecutors.
It is worth further emphasizing that, by DHS’ own admission, Araujo was not the target of ICE’s operation. Even if there were drugs in the van (and there is no evidence that there were), those agents did not know that. They did not kill him because of drugs; they did not kill him to protect public safety; they did not kill him in self-defense. ICE agents killed him and Guererro because they knew they could.
Guerrero and Araujo were not the only people to die in ICE-related incidents this month. On July 14, a 28-year-old man in Florida died while fleeing ICE agents.
A day prior, Jesús Manuel Arenas-Silva, a Venezuelan national, died while being transferred between detention centers in Georgia. In a press release, his sister and immigrants’ rights groups reported that, despite their repeated pleas, ICE deprived him of medication he desperately needed. Including Arenas-Silva, at least 22 people have reportedly died in ICE custody this year.
Importantly, this figure does not include the deaths of people like Nurul Amin Shah Alam and Daphy Michel. Shah Alam, a nearly blind refugee who did not speak English, was abandoned by immigration enforcement agents alone on a cold winter night in New York state. He was found dead a few days later. A state medical examiner ruled his death a homicide.
Similarly, Michel, a Haitian asylum-seeker “suffering from untreated severe mental health issues and a significant language barrier,” was arrested by ICE in late February. Agents put an ankle monitor on her, drove her 25 miles away to Pittsburg where she was then abandoned. She died of hypothermia days later. Her death was also ruled a homicide.
On June 4, ICE announced it would no longer investigate or report the deaths of those recently released from detention centers—people like Shah Alam and Michel. This rescinds a policy instituted in 2021 by the Biden administration to hold the agency accountable for releasing severely ill detainees.
This is the reality of what ICE is: an agency that kills people; an agency that intentionally lets people die; an agency without remorse or accountability. Banning traffic stops or mandating bodycams will not change this. So long as ICE exists, it will continue to kill.
In light of all this death, we must seriously ask ourselves: Are we, as a nation, greater because a 3-year-old girl will never know her father? Are federal agents murdering people working hard to provide for their families making any of our lives better? Are we safer because of ICE?
The tens of billions of our taxpayer money spent on ICE could be going to fund childcare, instead of killing parents. It could be used to fund healthcare instead of an agency that deprives medication. It could be used to meaningfully improve the lives of millions instead of agents that kill and injure innocent people.
For all our sakes, enough must finally be enough. We must abolish ICE. Punish the ICE agents who have committed these shootings. Hold every member of the Trump administration who covered their crimes and every politician who voted to fund ICE responsible for the chaos they have unleashed across our country.
Unless there is real change, it is not a matter of if, but when ICE will kill again.
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Sen. Graham's Legacy: He Helped Israel Get Away With Genocide
Lindsey Graham is part of the answer to the question of how a genocide could be pursued in plain sight with impunity.
Jul 15, 2026
The sudden death of South Carolina Sen. Lindsey Graham, 71, has been greeted with the full spectrum of reactions. Many of them were personal in character. I never met or testified before Sen. Graham, and I’m not under the illusion that the persona politicians project on television gives much insight into them as persons. This maxim is especially true for a politician, who typically tacks with the wind, as Graham often did. Nor is my interest here personal. People depict him as a nice guy to colleagues who was capable of praising rivals such as Joe Biden. That sort of senatorial bonhomie is irrelevant to the issue I want to address.
Genocides in the past 50 years have not always been easy to recognize in real time. The Khmer Rouge polished off a fifth of Cambodia’s population, but isolated journalistic reports of what was going on were dismissed in Washington. Likewise, the Clinton administration was slow to understand the mass killings in Rwanda.
It was not until April 23, 2005, that the first video was successfully posted to the World Wide Web. It was that breakthrough that made the Gaza genocide that began in October 2023 the first televised such mass atrocity. The Israeli policy of systematic killing of innocent noncombatants was live-streamed on smartphones on a daily basis throughout the world. There was no doubt about what we were seeing.
And yet, the Israeli leadership has suffered almost no repercussions for having disregarded the value of civilian life, adopting a monstrous Rules of Engagement allowing for as many as a hundred women, children, and noncombatant men to be killed for each militant targeted. NATO has ceased joint military exercises with Israel because its army violated its RoE so egregiously.
We have to revise the old saying. If you have neither the law nor the facts on your side, pound racist superiority and inherent lack of accountability.
Lindsey Graham is part of the answer to the question of how a genocide could be pursued in plain sight with impunity.
When the prosecutor for the International Criminal Court, Karim Khan, prepared in April 2024 to apply for arrest warrants for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and former Defense Minister Yoav Gallant for war crimes and crimes against humanity, former Prime Minister David Cameron shouted angrily at him that Britain would withdraw from and defund the ICC if the indictment went forward. Cameron was not in office at that time, and may have been used by the Tory government to express its displeasure without intervening officially. Labour promised to do better when it came back to power. It didn’t.
There is an old adage among lawyers: “If you have the facts on your side, pound the facts. If you have the law on your side, pound the law. If you have neither, pound the table.”
Israel’s lawyers, like Cameron and the Conservative Party in general, had neither the facts nor the law on their side, so they pounded the table. In fact, they threatened to dismantle the judge’s bench, strip his clothing off, and shoot him in the head.
Sen. Graham then joined a conference call with Khan in April, 2024, in which he lambasted the prosecutor, saying that ICC indictments are for “Africa and thugs like Putin,” not for the United States and its allies such as Israel.
If Khan’s report of this conversation is correct, it casts the late senator in an extremely poor light. It is hard to see the reference to Africa as anything but racism.
South Carolina had for centuries had one law for white people and another one for African Americans, who were kidnapped in Africa and brought to the lowcountry. Until 1863 they were held as chattel, property rather than persons. After a brief period of emancipation, they were gradually denied the right to vote or hold office, until the mid-1960s Civil Rights Act and Voting Rights Act. The point of the Trump administration, of which Graham became a pillar, is to repeal those laws and to again disenfranchise African Americans, with outrageous racial gerrymanders and measures such as limiting the number of polling stations in heavily African American districts.
While it is controversial whether Graham was personally a racist, what he said about the ICC being for Africans was certainly a racist comment, and it unfortunately replicated the long history of white sentiment in South Carolina that some laws do not pertain to white people, which is a way of saying that whites have impunity. He clearly coded Israelis as “white.” Such categorizations are worthless and arbitrary, however. Whiteness has no stable meaning. Most Israelis couldn’t have gotten served at a diner in South Carolina in the 1950s, though. What is important is that Graham so categorized them, and the significance he attached to that categorization.
That he threw Putin (and who could be more pasty?) into the mix might tell against this analysis. Yet obviously even under slavery and Jim Crow there were white criminals who harmed propertied white gentry and who did not share in impunity as a result. An example was Ian Gale, the cat burglar who robbed a hundred homes of valuables totaling as much as half a million dollars. Putin became a “thug” by attacking other white people in Ukraine, and so deserves to be dealt with as though he were an African.
It is still a racist comment.
Graham’s angry attack on Khan showed the Nixonian logic of genocide denial. It isn’t a crime if the United States or Israel does it.
Ironically, Graham was a law school graduate and served in the US Air Force Judge Advocate General’s (JAG) Corps for more than 30 years while in the Air National Guard and Reserves. He rose to hold the rank of colonel.
The JAG Corps of the Air Force admitted in 2020, “The statistics show that black male Airmen under the age of 25 and with less than 5 years of service receive NJP [nonjudicial punishment] and courts-martial actions at a higher rate than similarly situated white male Airmen.”
You give the white guy a break but throw the book at the Black guy. That was how Graham’s second institution often behaved during the decades he served in it. While for some JAG officers, this outcome may have resulted from an unconscious prejudice, Sen. Graham made his invidious view explicit in the conference call with Khan.
He also once said that it would be “terrible” if he took a DNA test and it showed he had Iranian ancestry. In retrospect I think he may have meant that such a bloodline might have made him partially brown and so would have denied him the benefits of being above the law enjoyed by white people. (Persian is an Indo-European language and Iran comes from the same root as “Aryan,” and a lot of Iranian Americans identify as white, but Graham was too incurious to have known all that.)
We have to revise the old saying. If you have neither the law nor the facts on your side, pound racist superiority and inherent lack of accountability.
And that is how Graham, in his guise as master prestidigitator, made the elephant of genocide disappear.
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Pick a Side. Fight Like Hell. Repeat.
The system is ignoring your demands, because it knows accountability is dead. It believes what you deserve doesn't matter. Simply naming your enemy won't fix this. One election won't fix this. But organizing and fighting back will.
Jul 13, 2026
People want to elect fighters. They want affordability. They want security. Accountability. Voters want to fight corruption. Voters are starving for somebody who’ll stand up to power on their behalf. Yet, almost every time, that sentiment gets pointed at one target, Donald Trump. Fighting Trump, fighting his administration’s grab at our rights, fighting the handful of people at the top who’ve piled up about as much wealth as the entire bottom 90 percent of the country combined. I’m for the fight. But a fight needs an opponent, and you have to be clear-eyed and correct about who the opponent is, or you can’t defeat them. Right now, too many politicians and too many voters have decided their opponent is one man.
Donald Trump is a threat to democracy, and his administration is a threat to people the world over. But you don’t solve that threat by standing up to him, or legislating around him, or writing some new law that says he can’t do the thing he’s already doing. Because we’ve watched a Supreme Court bless this behavior. We’ve watched laws get ignored. Judgments ignored. Courts ignored. So it isn’t a question of who sits in the chair. It’s a question of power, and a question of accountability, and almost nobody with any standing is asking for accountability.
Our enemy isn’t the man. Our enemy is the system in which he’s operating, and that system runs on one thing, a lack of accountability.
Let’s start with what should be the clearest. We have been funding and arming a genocide of the Palestinian people, carried out by a rogue regime in Israel, in plain sight, and none of us can do a thing to stop it. You might think that has nothing to do with your life in Des Moines or Knoxville or wherever you’re reading this. It has everything to do with it. Because a system that lets war crimes happen in broad daylight with no consequence is the same system you live under, and if genocide can’t be stopped then what can? The powerlessness we feel isn’t just a side effect, it’s the point. An inspiration to quit.
Unlike money powerlessness does trickle down. It’s the Epstein operation, where the names are known, and not one person who mattered has answered for any of it. It’s Ken Paxton in Texas, whose office took over the case of a man who admitted to years-long sexual abuse of a young boy, a first-degree felony that carried up to life in prison, and after a mistrial cut him a deal down to two misdemeanors, thirty days in jail, and no spot on the sex-offender registry, and that same Ken Paxton is now his party’s nominee for the United States Senate. It’s an economy that minted its first trillionaire off the backs of American workers, American innovation, and resources we all paid to build. Different stories, same disease. Nobody pays.
The centrists have a ready answer for all of this. They’ll say, “That’s your problem, you’d rather go after the Democratic Party than fight Trump.” The “centrists” are wrong. Working to transform and restore the Democratic Party is one of the few solutions that might work.
There’s not really a center for them to occupy. There’s no neutral ground when the government is actively working to dismantle democracy and we have an economy failing the overwhelming majority of the people inside it. There is no center on genocide. To stand in the middle is to work with the people who currently hold the power, and the people who hold the power are Trump, and Palantir, and private equity, and the billionaires, the ones doing the extracting and the oppressing, here and across the planet.
So when a Democrat says I’m not willing to take on the system itself, the economic system, the justice system, the whole machine, what that Democrat is saying is that the machine gets to stay. And the machine is what empowers Trump. Going after Trump the man instead of the system isn’t a step toward fixing anything. It’s the false option, the move that lets you feel like a fighter while you don’t solve anything. You cannot be a centrist in this moment, because in this moment the center is just a way of siding with Trump.
I don’t see how a centrist can honestly think of themselves as “a fighter.” You can’t both fight for people and not fight to take power away from the institutions and companies that hold it and use it to harm people. You can’t fight against Trump by attacking socialists.
There’s a poem most of us know, written about what Germany allowed to happen. I won’t paraphrase it. It does its work whole.
First, they came for the Communists
And I did not speak out because I was not a Communist
Then they came for the Socialists
And I did not speak out because I was not a Socialist
Then they came for the trade unionists
And I did not speak out because I was not a trade unionist
Then they came for the Jews
And I did not speak out because I was not a Jew
Then they came for me
And by then there was no one left to speak out for me
We are doing it again, right now, in the open. Both Trump and centrist Democrats are coming for the socialists, by which they mean anybody standing to the left of a tax cut. They are coming for the immigrants. They are coming for the unhoused and the disabled and the people with the least power to stop them. And, just like in Weimar Germany, the people who should be blocking authoritarianism are instead siding with it to attack the left. Josh Gottheimer. James Carville. The whole Promise to America crowd, the centrists on every channel, lining up with an administration they swear they want to fight, against an ideology whose only crime is refusing to say that things are fine the way they are.
And I don’t mean any of that as a figure of speech. I mean, there’s already a system built and running. ICE has opened more than 150 new detention facilities since this administration came in, the daily detention population has passed a record seventy thousand people, and the plan on paper is to spend thirty-eight billion dollars building toward a hundred thousand beds, in mega-camps run by the same for-profit prison companies that make money off everybody they hold.
In the Florida Everglades, they built a camp they nicknamed Alligator Alcatraz, where the conditions are so bad detainees went on hunger strike and Amnesty International called what was happening there torture. Thirty-two people died in ICE custody last year, the most in two decades, and this year is worse.
Think you’re safe? It isn’t only immigrants. ICE and Border Patrol agents have shot multiple U.S. citizens and killed several of them, including Renee Good and Alex Pretti, both gunned down in Minneapolis this January. Good’s death was ruled a homicide, and the Justice Department declined to investigate the agent who shot her and opened an investigation into her widow instead. That’s what no accountability looks like.
And the same machine runs at home. In March of last year, they stood up a federal task force to flood Washington with police, sweep the unhoused out of public space, and run immigration enforcement through the middle of the city. In July came an executive order to make it easier to round up homeless people and commit them to institutions against their will, on the claim that most of them are addicts or mentally ill. In August, they declared a crime emergency and pulled DC’s own police force under federal command, and over the past year, we’ve watched National Guard troops and even Marines pushed into American cities against protesters.
And this June, the Justice Department put out a legal memo arguing that disabled Americans have no right to live in their own communities at all, tearing up twenty-five years of settled law and quietly reopening the door to warehousing disabled people in institutions, right as the Medicaid cuts pull the funding from the services that keep them out. That isn’t a slope we might slide down someday. It’s a machine, already built, made to remove the people the state has decided are a problem.
And the billionaires aren’t standing off to the side, they’re cheering it on. Two weeks ago, the richest man alive, Elon Musk, used his platform to give away for free a film that German censors had refused to certify because, by the director’s own account, they found it incited violence against migrants. Then Musk posted that the sequel will be even better. That’s where we are. The man with more money than most nations is out promoting vigilante violence against immigrants and calling it a movie.
And all of it sits on top of a surveillance system we’ve been building since 9/11, more and more of it run by private companies and now being supercharged with AI, the cameras and the license plate readers and the face scans, pointed at us. People will tell you the lesson is that we let the government get too big. That’s not the lesson. The problem was never the size of the government. The problem is that we let unchecked power pool in the hands of a few, the few who own the system, run the camps, write the memos, and answer to no one.
So no, I’m not interested in fighting Donald Trump. I’m interested in fighting the thing that made him and will outlast him, the system that lets a genocide run, lets the Epstein names stay buried, lets a child’s abuser walk and then promotes the man who walked him, mints fortunes off our work, and rounds up the weakest people we’ve got while calling it order. That’s the enemy. Not a man. A system.
And the first thing we can do is quit pretending there’s a safe place to stand while it runs. There isn’t. Knowing the enemy doesn’t fix anything by itself, it just tells you where to put your shoulder, and the work after that is bigger and longer than anything a single election can fix. But it starts with saying the plain thing the center exists to avoid. You cannot be a centrist in this moment. Pick a side.
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'Justice Has Failed Us Here in Guatemala': A Family Fights for Accountability
More than 44 years have now passed since Guatemalan state forces abducted Luz Leticia; every day since, her sisters have fought to preserve the truth and dignity of her life while demanding answers.
Jul 12, 2026
Under the beating sun on the morning of June 21, Mirtala del Rosario Hernández Agustín joins families of the disappeared and members of organizations including the Association of Family Members of the Detained and Disappeared in Guatemala, or FAMDEGUA, and Sons and Daughters for Identity and Justice against Oblivion and Silence, or HIJOS, in Guatemala City’s Plaza de la Constitución to commemorate the National Day Against Enforced Disappearances.
“We dream of a different Guatemala, and we fight for it. We cannot sit back and cross our arms. We have a person detained and disappeared.” Mirtala’s voice carries across the plaza. Behind her sit more than 400 empty chairs, each bearing the portrait of someone forcibly disappeared during Guatemala’s 36-year internal armed conflict. “I am the sister of Luz Leticia Hernández Agustín,” she continues. “To have peace in my heart, to be able to say we’ve been heard, we need my sister's remains returned.”
More than 44 years have now passed since Guatemalan state forces abducted Luz Leticia on November 22, 1982. It was her 25th birthday. And it was the last time she was seen.
Yet her sisters, Marta and Mirtala, refused to let her vanish completely. Every day since, they have fought to preserve the truth and dignity of Luz Leticia’s life while demanding answers not only for her, but for the tens of thousands who were disappeared, tortured, and killed during Guatemala’s US-backed campaign of state terror and genocide.
No amount of political power can permanently shield perpetrators from the demands for truth and justice made by the people they sought, and ultimately failed, to erase.
Now, their case is finally being heard in court. Three days a week, the Hernández Agustín sisters climb the stairs to the fifth floor of Guatemala City’s Palace of Justice. They sit through hours of testimony and legal argument, filling notebooks with observations and listening for the answers that have eluded their family for decades. Some days sting with the reopening of old wounds. Others dissolve into procedural delays, technical difficulties, and bureaucratic legal wrangling. They often leave frustrated and exhausted.
Still, they return. They do so because this case is about more than one family’s pursuit of justice. At a time when the United States is escalating violence at home and abroad, and governments like Guatemala’s continue to subordinate themselves to the imperatives of that long-standing imperial project, this trial carries particular significance. Most recently, this has included expanded military cooperation with Washington targeting alleged drug cartels in the country, a justification the US has invoked to extrajudicially kill more than 210 people over the past nine months.
The trial has therefore become a testament to all those who refused the silence imposed upon them. It is proof that those marked for erasure can reclaim their place in history. Above all, it is a reminder that no amount of political power can permanently shield perpetrators from the demands for truth and justice made by the people they sought, and ultimately failed, to erase.
The Long Shadow of Empire in Guatemala
The Guatemala into which the Hernández Agustín sisters were born bore the unmistakable imprint of empire. It was a country of staggering inequality, where generations inherited the desiccated remains of a nation picked clean by the vultures of foreign capital. The promise of reform had long since been extinguished. Gone was the Democratic Spring, the brief decade from 1944 to 1954 when popularly elected governments sought to expand democracy and direct the country’s wealth toward its people rather than multinational corporations and the landed oligarchy.
That dream was crushed with the 1954 CIA-backed overthrow of President Jacobo Árbenz. The coup sought not simply to remove a government but to restore the deeply unequal social order whose foundations had been laid under the dictatorship of Jorge Ubico. A pliant strongman who willingly auctioned off his country’s future to the highest bidder, Ubico granted sweeping concessions to US corporations while enriching himself. Under his rule, the Boston-based United Fruit Company became Guatemala’s largest landholder, acquiring more than 40% of its arable land and near-monopolistic control over not only its lucrative banana exports but also critical infrastructure, including the country's railroads and electrical network.
The threat posed by the Democratic Spring was not simply that it had challenged landowners and foreign corporations. It had shown workers, peasants, and Indigenous communities that collective action could transform society.
Ubico’s regime collapsed in 1944 with a popular uprising. Under elected Presidents Juan José Arévalo and then Árbenz, Guatemala embarked on an ambitious reform program. Building on Arévalo’s efforts, Árbenz expanded labor protections, social security, and universal suffrage while pursuing economic modernization that sought to transform Guatemala from what he referred to as “a semi-colonial dependency into an independent nation” and “a predominantly feudal economy into a modern capitalist state.”
It was this challenge to entrenched economic power that placed Árbenz in the crosshairs of both Washington and Wall Street. The flash point was Decree 900, his sweeping agrarian reform. The measure authorized the expropriation of uncultivated large estates, including United Fruit’s vast holdings, for redistribution to hundreds of thousands of peasants. Remuneration would be based on the value the company itself had declared, a figure it had deliberately undervalued to reduce its tax burden. While the reform was rooted in economic nationalism and guaranteed compensation for the land, officials in Washington cast it as evidence of communist subversion.
Secretary of State John Foster Dulles and CIA Director Allen Dulles, both closely tied to United Fruit, orchestrated Árbenz’s overthrow. The coup ended Guatemala’s democratic experiment and ushered in decades of military rule, repression, and civil war.
A State Built on Terror
The dictatorship that emerged in the wake of the coup gave rise to a popular insurgency determined to reclaim the democratic aspirations that had been violently swept aside. It also ushered in a new era of repression. For Guatemala’s military rulers, the objective was to preserve their power. For their patrons in Washington, Guatemala became a Cold War proving ground, meant to demonstrate the consequences of challenging US political and economic power.
The threat posed by the Democratic Spring was not simply that it had challenged landowners and foreign corporations. It had shown workers, peasants, and Indigenous communities that collective action could transform society. That lesson had to be unlearned. In its place, they sought to teach another: that any attempt to remake Guatemala would be met with overwhelming violence. Terror became the principal pedagogy of the state.
From 1960 to 1996, Guatemala’s internal armed conflict claimed roughly 200,000 lives and left another 45,000 disappeared.
Repression failed to extinguish resistance. In 1960, dissident military officers launched an uprising against the regime. After it was crushed, many of its survivors retreated to the countryside, where they helped form the Rebel Armed Forces (FAR), the first of several guerrilla organizations. The state responded with a brutal, US-backed counterinsurgency waged through roving death squads, systematic torture, forced disappearances, and indiscriminate targeting of suspected dissidents.
Rather than destroying the insurgency, the violence pushed it deeper into rural Guatemala, where Indigenous Maya communities and peasant organizers assumed an increasingly central role in new guerrilla organizations. By the late 1970s, the military had embraced a genocidal scorched-earth campaign, particularly against the Ixil Maya. Entire communities were treated as inherently subversive. The objective was no longer simply to defeat guerrillas but to destroy the social fabric that sustained Indigenous life.
Villages were razed. Thousands were massacred. Survivors were displaced or forced into tightly controlled “model villages” under a policy known as Palestinianization, where military authorities sought to erase Indigenous languages, traditions, religious practices, and communal life in the name of anti-communist pacification and national modernization.
From 1960 to 1996, Guatemala’s internal armed conflict claimed roughly 200,000 lives and left another 45,000 disappeared. The bloodiest paroxysm of violence came between 1981 and 1983, when security forces killed an estimated 100,000 people, overwhelmingly Indigenous Maya, in a genocidal campaign that journalist Vincent Bevins has referred to as “the largest bloodbath unleashed by the Cold War in the Western Hemisphere.” The atrocities unfolded with US training and the material and diplomatic backing of the Reagan administration, which viewed Guatemala as a critical front in its campaign against leftist movements across Latin America, alongside its support for the Contras in Nicaragua and allied security forces in El Salvador and Honduras.
The Disappearance of Luz Leticia
Luz Leticia Hernández Agustín, or Leti, as her sisters call her, was one of the many lives cut short by the Guatemalan state during this period of extreme violence. As the eldest sibling, she occupied an outsized place in her family’s life. Marta and Mirtala remember her as hardworking, intelligent, and deeply compassionate. In a household, and community, marked by intense economic precarity and hardship, she assumed responsibilities well beyond her years, helping care for her younger siblings and easing whatever burdens she could.
This experience shaped Leti’s politics. She came to understand that centuries of colonial conquest had produced enduring systems of racism, dispossession, and exploitation that were still being felt. “Leti could see all of that,” Marta explains. “All the deep-seated wrongs that have persisted for so long.” She imagined a different Guatemala, one where those structures no longer defined people's lives and where everyone, regardless of ethnicity or social standing, could live with dignity.
Leti’s sisters have never abandoned their search for truth and justice, nor their determination to affirm their sister’s existence.
Her commitment extended beyond her immediate family. As Mirtala recalled, Leti was motivated certainly “by her own experiences, and the way our parents lived,” but equally “by the suffering she witnessed among our people.” Despite all the evidence seemingly to the contrary, she never surrendered her belief that Guatemala could become a more just society. That conviction would draw her into the resistance. She joined Nuestro Movimiento (“Our Movement”), an underground organization affiliated with the Organization of People in Arms (ORPA).
In late 1982, Leti became involved in an effort to secure the release of a comrade, Ileana del Rosario Solares Castillo, who was illegally detained by the regime. On October 14, members of Nuestro Movimiento abducted Jorge Mario Ríos Muñoz, the nephew of General Efraín Ríos Montt, Guatemala’s de facto president who presided over the bloodiest phase of the genocide, for which he was convicted in 2013. The operation sought to force a prisoner exchange. Jorge Mario remained captive until November 21, when an intelligence unit, working alongside Israeli advisors, rescued him. In the process, Luz Leticia, Ana María López Rodríguez, María Cruz López Rodríguez, and Leandro Gabriel Calate Temu were all captured.
In that moment, Leti entered the opaque machinery of forced disappearance. She was taken into a clandestine detention system notorious for torture, sexual violence, and the systematic degradation of prisoners. Her family never saw or heard from her again.
The Struggle for Justice
Leti’s sisters have never abandoned their search for truth and justice, nor their determination to affirm their sister’s existence. In 2001, the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (CIDH) concluded that the Guatemalan state had violated the rights to life, liberty, humane treatment, judicial protection, and a fair trial of Ileana, Luz Leticia, and Ana María. It recommended that Guatemala locate the women’s remains, compensate their families, and identify and prosecute those responsible.
Five years later, the Guatemalan government offered the Hernández Agustín family an “amicable settlement agreement,” consisting of financial compensation without accountability and without the return of Luz Leticia's remains. They refused on principle.
In 2023, prosecutors indicted Juan Francisco Cifuentes Cano, the former commander of the National Police’s Fifth Corps Special Operations Reaction Battalion (BROE), on charges of crimes against humanity and enforced disappearance. After years of defense appeals aimed at delaying or derailing the proceedings, the long-awaited trial finally began on May 5.
Will we accept a world in which some have the right to kill and others the right to die, or insist on one governed by justice and accountability?
Justice, for them, means a broader reckoning with the collective trauma inflicted by enforced disappearance. The crime was designed to leave families trapped in cycles of hope and grief, producing what Marta described as the “strange sensation” that “[Leti] had died, yet was somehow still alive,” condemning them to “so much uncertainty, anxiety, and immense, constant stress.”
For Mirtala, that torment was central to the crime itself. “Enforced disappearance,” she explained, “is an act committed by the state against its own citizens, often in collusion with the very groups meant to guarantee the population's safety.” It extends far beyond the individual. “They don't just make the person disappear,” she said. “They do so in a way that instills terror and fear, and that is precisely what they have sought to do: to plunge us and our entire family into that terror.”
“It is a crime, an undeniable crime, but one committed in a sophisticated manner against our humanity,” she continued. The violence is directed not only at the disappeared but those left behind, condemning families to live with uncertainty while knowing their loved one is in the hands of the state. “It's agonizing to know that she's with these people.” “It’s powerlessness,” Mirtala said, “unable to do anything to pull [the disappeared] out of that cycle of violence and cruelty.”
Yet they have found meaning in the struggle. Their search for Leti has become inseparable from a broader fight over historical memory and for accountability. As Mirtala put it, it is a “story that reflects everything fractured in our country, all the underlying tensions and societal pain, and the struggles being waged on various fronts everywhere.”
Still, they approach that work with humility, believing that lasting change is built through small acts of collective resistance. “We are like an ant carrying a single grain of salt,” Mirtala explained. Yet she sees power even in the smallest acts. “This is how dust turns into sand, then into a gust of wind, and finally into a storm. We believe it will change many people’s perceptions.”
But this is not merely a struggle over memory. It is also a struggle over the present, over the ways impunity continues to shape Guatemala. In the decades since Leti’s disappearance, Guatemala has remained marked by stark inequality, corruption, violence, and rights abuses. The state continues to repress dissent, fueling recurring political crises rooted in its failure to meet the needs of its people. Mirtala sees in today’s situation the echoes of the violence that took her sister. “All these things,” she said, “they weigh on you, drop by drop, little by little.”
That is why pursuing Leti’s case has become about far more than one family’s search for justice. It is an act of resistance, a “vindication,” against a state that, as Mirtala put it, “has turned against its own people. Those who take power rob and take money from the people to enrich themselves" while the people “lack education, healthcare, food, and the chance for decent housing.” “To me,” she said, “it is a slap in the face, a punch to the gut of the state.”
The struggle has not been without risks. As documentary filmmaker Nancy Peckenham observed, “In Guatemala, to remember is dangerous.” Yet Mirtala and her sister remain resolute. “Sometimes I think about the risks,” Mirtala reflected, “but then I remember this isn’t just about asserting my sister’s rights. It is about the rights of thousands of people, both within Guatemala and abroad, because this is something suffered by all of us who lack power.”
Ultimately, she said, “that is what this has meant for us. It is a collective struggle.”
The case will continue through July. Its verdict will test not only Guatemala, but also whether we are doomed to live in a world, as the Trump administration architect of the United States’ ongoing nativist assault Stephen Miller put it, “that is governed by strength, that is governed by force, that is governed by power.” Will we accept a world in which some have the right to kill and others the right to die, or insist on one governed by justice and accountability? The trial is one link in this broader struggle over whether a better world is possible: one free from the violence of impunity and imperialism, sustained by the conviction that those who commit atrocities will one day be held to account, from Guatemala to Venezuela, Palestine to Iran, and here in the United States.
All quotes from Marta and Mirtala Hernández Agustín are from a June 2026 speech and interview conducted by the authors and translated from Spanish.
Correction: The name of General Efraín Ríos Montt's nephew was Jorge Mario Ríos Muñoz, not Mario Ríos Montt. The piece has been updated to reflect this.
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ICE Kills, DHS Lies: The New Normal of Trump’s America
Federal agents flood our neighborhoods; a poorly trained, gun-happy immigration agent kills someone; the administration alleges, without evidence, that the victim was responsible; no proper investigation is conducted; no one is held accountable. Rinse and repeat.
Jul 09, 2026
On July 7, an Immigration Customs Enforcement agent shot and killed Lorenzo Salgado Araujo, a Mexican national. According to a Department of Homeland Security spokesperson, Araujo “weaponized his vehicle in an attempt to run over an ICE law enforcement officer resulting in our officer firing his weapon in self-defense.” As of the time of this writing, the agency has yet to provide any evidence.
This shooting comes days after a massive surge in ICE arrests. Between June 26 and June 30, 10,000 people were reportedly detained by immigration agents.
This is a tragic story—one that we have seen many times before.
Silverio Villegas González: On September 12, Villegas González, a Mexican national, was shot and killed by an ICE agent. This occurred during the agency’s “Operation Midway Blitz” in the Chicago area.
Araujo was not the first of ICE’s victims. So long as the agency exists, he will not be the last.
The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) alleged that the ICE agent “was hit by the car and dragged a significant distance. Fearing for his own life, the officer fired his weapon.” DHS further claimed that the agent “sustained multiple injuries.”
These were lies. Bodycam footage collected by Franklin Park police officers show the ICE agent saying he “got dragged a little bit” and describing his own injuries as “nothing major.” Surveillance video shows that Villegas González did not drive toward or hit either agent. Several eyewitnesses further refute DHS’ narrative.
Marimar Martinez: On October 4, Martinez, a US citizen, was shot five times by Border Patrol agent Charles Exum. In a statement, DHS described this as “defensive fire.” They alleged, without evidence, that Martinez and her fellow “domestic terrorists” “ambushed” and “rammed federal agents with their vehicles.” On social media, FBI Director Kash Patel posted a video—from an unrelated incident—of a black SUV aggressively ramming an agent’s truck as "proof" of Martinez’s crime.
These, too, were lies. Bodycam footage shows the agents already had their weapons drawn as one of them turned the steering wheel toward Martinez’s car. One agent can be heard saying, “It’s time to get aggressive.”
Text messages reveal the “big time” support Exum received from then-Border Patrol Commander Gregory Bovino, Border Patrol Chief Michael Banks, and then-Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem in the aftermath of this incident. Hours after the shooting, Bovino even offered to extend Exum’s retirement with CBP “in light of [his] excellent service in Chicago.” He added, “you have much yet left to do!”
In a group chat, Exum bragged about how he “fired 5 rounds and she had 7 holes.”
Renee Nicole Good: On January 7, Noem alleged that Good, a US citizen, “weaponize[d] her vehicle” and “attempted to run” over ICE agent Jonathan Ross. This act of so-called “domestic terrorism” justified Ross’s lethal action.
Once again, more lies. Footage captured on that day definitively showed—from multiple camera angles—that Good was turning away from Ross as he opened fire. He was never in danger.
Six months later, her murder has yet to be properly investigated. This was always the government’s plan. The day after her death, Vice President JD Vance insisted that the officer had “absolute immunity.” A few weeks afterwards, six federal prosecutors resigned over the Justice Department’s reluctance to investigate Ross. An FBI agent who had opened a civil rights investigation into Good’s death also resigned after she was ordered to reclassify it as an investigation into an assault on the ICE agent.
To these names, there are many we can add: Ruben Ray Martinez (shot and killed), Alex Pretti (shot and killed), Julio Cesar Sosa-Celis (shot), Jesus Javier Gomez Islas (shot, left permanently blind in his right eye), Keith Porter Jr. (shot and killed), Carlitos Ricardo Parias (shot).
Trump’s bigotry, Congress’ cowardice, and the Supreme Court’s blind obedience; a government devoid of checks and balances at war with its own people—this is America after 250 years.
This is the new normal of Donald Trump’s America—federal agents flood our neighborhoods. A poorly trained, gun-happy immigration agent kills someone. The administration alleges, without evidence, that the victim was responsible. No proper investigation is conducted. No one is held accountable. A family is torn apart. A community traumatized. Rinse and repeat.
We do not yet know all the details surrounding Araujo’s death. Perhaps we will never.
For now, there are two things we can take as certainties: First, any official narrative put forth by ICE, DHS, or the Trump administration cannot be trusted. They have repeatedly lied to the public, defended their killers, and blamed the victims. In their view, if you are killed by ICE, protest ICE, criticize ICE on social media, or even write a strongly worded email to ICE, then you are the criminal. You are the “domestic terrorist.”
Second, Araujo was not the first of ICE’s victims. So long as the agency exists, he will not be the last. The next victim could be anyone. Regardless of race or legal status, we are all vulnerable to Trump’s taxpayer-funded secret police.
This is the reality that we all find ourselves in—one that is nurtured and sustained by every aspect of the federal government: the Trump administration’s militarized immigration enforcement and crackdown on political dissent; a Congress that continues, despite the deaths, to provide billions to ICE and DHS; and a Supreme Court that gives ICE agents legal immunity to racially profile minorities and that paves the way for DHS to strip noncitizens of their protection status.
Trump’s bigotry, Congress’ cowardice, and the Supreme Court’s blind obedience; a government devoid of checks and balances at war with its own people—this is America after 250 years.
On Facebook, Araujo’s son, Ronaldo Salgado, wrote: “My father has been in this country for nearly 35 years, working in construction to provide for myself, my two brothers, and my mother. He was in the process of obtaining his work permit through the legal process. He was on his way to work, picking up his workers. My father did not deserve this.”
None of ICE’s victims deserved this.
We cannot allow ICE to continue tearing families apart. We cannot continue to suffer politicians and institutions that prioritize war and violence over helping the people they are meant to serve.
Despite the dangers, we must continue to protest ICE. We must advocate for progressive candidates and policies. The situation is bleak, but things will only get worse if we do nothing. The White House will not save us. The Supreme Court will not save us. Congress, as it stands, will not save us. We must save ourselves.
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