Fear of Deportation Silences Immigrant Women Facing Domestic Violence in the US

Across the United States, a growing climate of fear is preventing immigrant survivors of domestic violence from seeking assistance, as heightened immigration enforcement casts a long shadow over their lives. 

The risk of deportation forces these vulnerable individuals to weigh the potential dangers of seeking protection against the risk of detention and removal from the country, undermining efforts to combat domestic violence and leaving countless survivors trapped in abusive situations. This hesitancy to engage with law enforcement or social services, due to fear of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), poses a significant threat to public safety.

The chilling effect of immigration enforcement policies is hindering efforts to protect victims of domestic violence, particularly those who are immigrants. According to the Alliance for Immigrant Survivors, a national network of advocates, 75 per cent of 170 advocates across the country report that the immigrant survivors they serve fear arrest or deportation if they contact authorities. Half of the advocates surveyed said that immigrant survivors chose not to contact law enforcement due to fear. 

This fear is not unfounded. Documented cases exist of immigration authorities detaining and deporting victims and witnesses who have come forward to cooperate with law enforcement. The Alliance's report highlights the case of a human trafficking survivor, with no criminal record, who was detained by ICE after speaking to the police. These high-profile examples reinforce the perception that engagement with law enforcement carries significant risk, deterring survivors from seeking essential help.

The impact extends beyond direct interactions with law enforcement. The Alliance also reports that 70 percent of advocates surveyed are concerned about their clients attending court, even after contacting law enforcement and proceeding to trial. In addition, advocates say that fewer women are going to domestic violence shelters following the Trump administration's decision to remove them from a list of locations protected from ICE enforcement. This creates a climate of fear that permeates not only interactions with law enforcement but also entry into any space where government authorities might be present.

Attorneys and advocates working with immigrant survivors are placed in precarious positions. Libby Hasse, an attorney at the Tahirih Justice Center, a national non-profit organisation that serves domestic violence survivors, has had to re-evaluate the advice she gives her clients.  When an immigrant survivor of domestic violence contacted Libby Hasse in a crisis, the attorney had clear advice: Call the police. But now, when a client called earlier this year to say that her abusive ex-husband was stalking her and sending threatening text messages, Hasse has to think twice. 

Her client worries that calling the police would mean involving Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers who could detain and deport her. This reluctance to engage with law enforcement stems from a well-founded fear that contact with police could trigger deportation proceedings, tearing families apart and leaving survivors even more vulnerable. Hasse describes the impossible choice many survivors face.

"She's in this situation where she's trying to weigh the risk and the benefit. If she calls the police today, are they actually going to be able to do anything against this guy that's stalking her and if not, are they going to be working with ICE?" 

Abusers are exploiting this situation, using the threat of deportation as a tool to control and intimidate their victims. As Swegman, an advocate for survivors notes, "Some abusers use the fear of increased ICE arrests to keep immigrant survivors from leaving." 

This insidious tactic reinforces the isolation and vulnerability of survivors, making it even more difficult for them to escape abusive relationships. The Tahirih Justice Center has witnessed a surge in calls for help and information, with numbers tripling in the first five months of 2025 compared with the same period last year, reflecting a greater need for assistance among a population that is increasingly hesitant to seek it through traditional channels.

One such instance illustrates this appalling phenomenon. According to Swegman, the Tahirih Justice Center's Atlanta office received a call from a woman who reported that her abuser was threatening to report her to ICE. The abuser was allegedly saying, "look at the TV, look at what they're saying, nobody cares about you. I can hurt you and nobody cares,' basically making her feel like if she called the police, he would have the power to get her deported just by pointing a finger at her and saying that she doesn't have lawful immigration status." 

This chilling account underscores the lengths to which abusers will go to maintain control over their victims, exploiting the fear of deportation to keep them trapped.

The presence of ICE in and around courthouses further exacerbates the climate of fear. Domestic violence survivors are understandably concerned about entering courthouses to pursue legal remedies, such as protective orders or U visas, if they believe they could be detained by ICE. 

Hasse recounts a recent incident involving one of her clients, a domestic violence survivor with six children who are US citizens, who was in immigration court for her pending U visa, which protects immigrant victims of violence from deportation during their case. The client saw ICE agents by the elevator when she was leaving the courthouse in Houston, Hasse said, and later in the day, she heard that ICE had detained people in the courthouse. 

"Every time she walks back into court for her case, that's what she's going to be thinking about, Am I going to be detained today? Am I going to be separated from my kids?''

Some jurisdictions are attempting to address this problem by implementing policies to protect victims and witnesses from ICE while they are in court. Harris County, Texas, for example, provides witnesses and victims with a card containing the case number and investigator's phone number, which they can present to ICE agents to verify their importance to an ongoing case. While such measures may offer some reassurance, they do not eliminate the underlying fear of deportation. Zain Lakhani, director of migrant rights and justice at the Women's Refugee Commission, highlights the challenges associated with obtaining U visas, which provide protection to immigrant victims of violence. 

While survivors can be protected from ICE while they are in the process of obtaining a U visa, Lakhani says "it's a very arduous process in terms of what you have to demonstrate and what you have to prove in order to get a U visa." 

The long wait and time for a U visa can impede a survivor from getting the resources to be able to safely leave an abuse situation and begin rebuilding their lives. The increased ICE presence and arrests in immigrant communities are also affecting domestic violence shelters. One shelter director in El Paso reports a 25 per cent decrease in people seeking help since the Trump administration rolled back a Biden administration policy that had barred ICE agents from entering shelters. The director worries that survivors are staying in violent situations because they fear ICE, noting that 75 percent of the people her shelter serves are children.