From Hope to Harm: Asylum Restrictions and Violence Facing Migrants in Mexico

From Hope to Harm: Asylum Restrictions and Violence Facing Migrants in Mexico

Read More

By Veronica Gomez & Katheryn Olmos

Image of Mexican Flag with a cloudy sky in the background. Retrieved from Wikimedia Commons.

The current Trump administration has exacerbated the challenges faced by immigrants and asylum seekers. The administration signed Executive Order 14159, which effectively banned people from requesting asylum at the U.S.-Mexico border. This EO narrows legal pathways and exposes migrants and asylum seekers to potential violence and fear.

The Immigration Lab has conducted interviews with migrants and asylum seekers who have recently arrived in the Washington, D.C. metropolitan area. Our research has highlighted a series of commonalities in their experiences, both in their home country and on their migration journey.

Mexican Migration

From our interviews, we find that Mexicans migrate primarily for economic and safety reasons. Mexicans migrate to the U.S. in order to access economic mobility that they did not have access to in their home country, or to escape organized crime and the war on drug trafficking.

“Veracruz es muy violento ahora, ajá. Yo salí para rehacer una nueva vida, para hacer un futuro, para darle algo a mi hijo o mi familia, mi mamá y papá… Por esa es la razón de hacerle una casa a mi mamá, mi papá, porque vivíamos en una casa abandonada. Pobre cada que llovía, cada que nevaba, siempre el agua caía en la cama. Nos mojábamos y yo dije ‘algún día yo voy a hacer una casa’… Aunque sea de lunes a viernes o fin de semana, pero trabajar 5 días, lo que sea, [un trabajo] es lo más importante para mí.”


“Yes, Veracruz is very violent right now. I left to rebuild a new life to make a future, to give something to my son or my family, my mom, and dad…. Yes, that’s what I want. Make a house for my mom, my dad because we lived in an abandoned house. Every time it rained, every time it snowed, the water would always fall on our bed. We would get wet, and I said, ‘one day I will build a house’… Even if it is from Monday to Friday or the weekend, whatever. A job is the most important thing for me.

— Mateo, Mexican man, 39

Through our analysis, we were able to identify and describe the journey of people migrating through parts of Mexico on their way to the United States. For many individuals, migrating to the U.S. is not the first option. We have also analyzed interviews where Mexican people have gone through up to 7 different states in Mexico just trying to find employment before deciding their best chance at finding work is coming to the U.S.

A participant from Veracruz, Mexico, named Mateo, who is now living in New York City hoping to find a good job to give back to his family in Mexico, recounted one of his experiences:

“Yo crucé. Salí del DF, agarré un autobús, me vine para Chihuahua, salí para Sonora, cruce la Frontera y llegué a Tucson y de ahí seguí hasta Phoenix, Arizona.”


“I crossed. I left from Mexico City, I took a bus, I came to Chihuahua, it left for Sonora, I crossed the border, and I arrived in Tucson and from there I stayed traveling until Phoenix, Arizona.”

— Mateo, Mexican man 39

Map of Mateo’s Journey. Map retrieved from Google Maps, edited by Katheryn Olmos.

Mexico as a Place of Transit

Many of our participants across different nationalities mentioned Mexico as part of their migration journey, and they noted the dangers faced while traversing the country, even after migrating through the Darien Gap, where they encounter deadly terrain and the remnants of the diseased. Participants shared that that Mexico is the worst part of their journey.

“Porque la selva para nosotros fue– caminar, caminar, caminar. Nos veíamos, por lo menos por donde nosotros pasamos. No vimos ningún peligro de que nos hicieran daño ni de eso. Sino que fue caminar arriesgar la vida en cuanto a los ríos y eso nada más. Pero cuando llegamos a México eran ya las personas que nos querían hacer daño.”


“Because the jungle, for us, was just walking––walking, walking…it was more about risking our lives with the rivers and all that. But when we got to Mexico, that’s when there were people who wanted to harm us.”

— Alison, Venezuelan woman, 32

When travelling through Mexico, our participants encountered cartel activity, including trafficking and extortion. Sofia, a Venezuelan woman who migrated through Mexico, recalled the fear of being kidnapped or killed by organized crime members.

“Lo que pasa es que en México hay muchos–cómo le llaman, narcotraficantes? Algo así. Así que ellos se creen dueños de como que decir del pueblo, entonces si, si tú te arriesgabas o equis y cosas o ellos te agarraban, pues tú, este, te podrían matar, te podrían lastimar incluso cortar una parte del cuerpo, cosas así.”


“The thing is that in Mexico, there are many–what do they call it, drug traffickers? Something like that. They think they own the town, so if… they grabbed you, then you could be killed. They could even cut off a part of your body–things like that.”

— Sofia, Venezuelan woman, 32

These cartels serve as informal gatekeepers. When migrants are moving through Mexico, they will likely go through several checkpoints and encounters with cartel members who typically request a fee from migrants so that they can keep moving.

“Cuando yo estuve en México–no me acuerdo el pueblo–yo caminé mucho, 3 días por una vía de tren, porque nos bajaron los carteles y nos dejaron sin nada.”


“When I was in Mexico–not sure what town–I walked for three days on train tracks because the cartels made us get off and left us with nothing.”

— David, Colombian/Venezuelan Man, 28

If migrants refuse to pay the fee or have no money, they risk “disappearing” or being killed. Sometimes, gang members will rob and kidnap migrants and ask for an outstanding amount of money. Cartel members will ask for an outstanding sum of money.

“Como que en un desierto y [los pandilleros] nos agarraron y ellos nos decían que nos iban a matar. Que querían 3,000 dólares por cabeza.


“It was like a desert, and [the gang members] grabbed us and told us they were gonna kill us. They wanted 3,000 dollars per capita.”

— David, Colombian/Venezuelan Man, 28

Paying organized crime to make the journey to the U.S. border is part of the immigration process, though it is unclear what the relationship is between the cartel and government authorities. Diego, a young Venezuelan man, recalls meeting and paying a cartel member to accompany him to the port of entry where his CBP One appointment was scheduled.

“Tuve que llegar donde otra gente como un mismo cartel, que uno le pagaba una plata para que ellos te dejaban pasar tranquilo y todo. Les pagué y nos estuvieron los dos días que volamos dos días antes y de allí ellos mismos nos trajeron. Nos soltaron allí en el puerto y cuando ya pasé ya pues la felicidad de uno estar aquí ya todo fue, pues mejor.”


“I had to go to some other people, like from a cartel, and I paid them some money because they would let you pass through calmly and all that. I paid them, and they stayed with us during the two days after we flew in, and from there, they themselves brought us. They dropped us off there at the port, and when I crossed, well, the happiness of being here, everything just felt, well, better.”

— Diego, Venezuelan man, 20

Mexico as a Place of Allyship

During the Biden administration, Venezuelans would remain in Mexico for months, even years, before attaining an appointment on the CBP One app. Despite the dangers in Mexico, many of our participants were able to persevere with the help of Mexican citizens. Some good Samaritans in Mexico provided shelter, work, and food to migrants passing through.

No conocía a nadie, nada, o sea mi vida era el trabajo y pues no todos los mexicanos, pero hay unos que sí son muy, muy malos pues con uno… [Una señora] nos propuso, que sí, trabajáramos de las 7 [de la mañana] hasta las 10 de la noche y le dijimos, o sea, le dijimos que sí. Empezamos a vivir allí en casa de pues ella no nos cobraba que si la comida ni nada de eso, o sea, dormíamos allí.  Gracias a Dios nos hicimos muy amigos de ella, y del hijo, y de la hija también. Este y allí no, pues nos hicimos panas del hijo … ya estábamos allí, pues, bien diría yo. Y allí duramos, bueno, allí dure yo todo… ese tiempo. Y trabajé hasta que me salió la cita [de CBP One].”


I didn’t know anyone, nothing—My life was just work. And not all Mexicans, but there are some who are really, really mean to you… [A lady] offered us [a job] from 7 in the morning to 10 at night…we told her yes. We started living at her house, and she didn’t charge us for food or anything like that, I mean, we like, we slept there. Thank God we became really good friends with her, and with her son, and daughter too. And there, well, we became friends with the son… So yeah, we were doing pretty well, I’d say. And I stayed there, well, I stayed there that whole time. And I worked until I got my [CBP One] appointment.”

— Diego, Venezuelan man, 20

David, a Venezuelan man, recalls his time on La Bestia–also known as “The Train of Death”– where passengers are vulnerable to starvation, cold nights, extortion, kidnapping, injuries, and even death.

“Gracias a Dios, mira, nos montamos en esa bestia de al día y medio, teníamos hambre de todo y en ese camino como teníamos como un día y medio en esa bestia montado y pasamos por un pueblo que en el pueblo tiraban cosas a la gente.

Mira eso fue como que, Dios mío, si, yo estaba acostada [un carril] así me cae así, pero en la cara… me cayó fue una bolsa de jamón. Y al ratico tirado, otra de pan, y yo entre mi, ¿Será que estoy soñando o qué? Yo estaba en eso me entiendes. Y pero yo digo ‘Dios mío, señor, yo no puedo creer, ¿será?’

Y me paro yo alegre y… empiezo [a comer], yo me atraganté y ahí mismito que viene mi amigo con una garrafa de agua de 5 litros y [dice], ‘Hermano mira lo que agarré: el agua!’ Y yo, ‘Amigo mira lo que yo tengo aquí!’

Mira eso fue lo yo digo que eso fue uno de los momentos más difíciles de mi vida. Esa hambre y esa sed que yo tenía mira ahí se me quitó todo.”


“Thank God, look, we got on La Bestia, and after a day and a half, we were starving and everything. And on that journey, since we had been on La Bestia for about a day and a half, we passed through a town where people were throwing stuff at folks.

Look, it was like, my God, I had been lying down on [a boxcar], it hit me right in the face… What hit me was a bag of ham. And a little while later, they threw a bag of bread, and I was like, ‘Am I dreaming or what?’ That’s how I felt, you know? And I said, ‘My God, Lord, I can’t believe this—is this real?’

So, I stood up all happy and… I started eating, and I started choking from eating too fast. And right then, my friend shows up with a 5-liter water jug and says, ‘Brother, look what I got—water!’ And I said, ‘Friend, look what I’ve got here!’

Look, I tell you, that was one of the hardest moments of my life. That hunger and thirst I had—man, it all went away right there.”
— David, Colombian/Venezuelan man, 28

Image of people giving migrants bags with food, drinks, and resources for migrants travelling on La Bestia. Retrieved from Wikimedia Commons.

Mexican strangers, yet friends and allies, save lives with their generosity. However, in order to resolve the violence against those who reside in Mexico, the government must take action.

Key Takeaways

It is important in understanding that Mexican migrants are not all the same ––and that Mexican migration is complex. For many, migration is more than a destination, it’s more than Point A and Point B. It is important to understand Mexico as a place of internal displacement and international passage.

The border Texas shares with Mexico is one of the most populated in the country, where both Mexicans and Americans use entry points to go to work, travel, transport commerce, and more. Now, the U.S.-Mexico border faces daily difficulties with the current administration’s immigration policies. Border security and enforcement have largely increased – the image above displays military security from the Mexican Government, with Border Patrol Agents on the other side.

Image of the US-Mexico Southern Border (The Reynosa-McAllen border). Retrieved from CLALS/Veronica Gomez.

The “Remain in Mexico” Policy was implemented by the first Trump Administration, where the Department of Homeland Security requires asylum seekers migrating to the United States by land to wait in Mexico while their cases are pending. This not only puts Mexican border cities, such as Reynosa, in a difficult spot being responsible for them, but most importantly, it puts all immigrants at risk. CBP One partly improved the situation. Now, CBP One no longer works, it is harder for international migrants to arrive at the border, and it is almost impossible to enter by asking for asylum between ports of entry or at ports of entry without passports and visas. Some international immigrants will settle in Mexico, some in a third country, and others will go back to the places they left.

Katheryn Olmos is a Research Assistant at the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies and a graduate student at the Sociology Research and Practice program at American University. 

Veronica Gomez is a Research Assistant at the Immigration Lab and an undergraduate at American University.

Edited by Ernesto Castañeda, Director, and Noah Green, Joseph Fournier, intern at the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies and the Immigration Lab.