The United States has begun moving dozens of LGBTQ asylum seekers to third nations that have little or no protection for sexual minorities. Two recent cases illustrate how a controversial policy can turn a court-granted safeguard into a new form of exile.
Both individuals were granted withholding of removal – a legal status that acknowledges a credible risk of persecution if they return to their home country. Yet, rather than remaining in the United States or being resettled in a safe third country, they were handed over to nations they had never visited, exposing them to new threats.
Aylin’s journey from Turkey to the Central African Republic
A 28-year-old woman from Turkey, identified here as Aylin, fled her homeland after a religious group and a family member issued death threats because of her sexual orientation. She arrived in the United States hoping for freedom, a supportive community, and the ability to live openly. After a hearing, an immigration judge awarded her withholding of removal recognizing the danger she faced if she were forced back to Turkey.
Despite this protection, Aylin was denied asylum under a now-overturned policy that barred many migrants who entered outside official ports of entry. After eighteen months in U.S. detention, officials shackled her, placed her on a commercial flight, and only mid-journey informed her that her destination was Bangui, the capital of the Central African Republic (CAR). The CAR does not criminalize same-sex relations, but a 2023 U.S. State Department report warned that maintaining a same-sex relationship there is “extraordinarily dangerous.” Aylin spent several weeks in a cramped apartment in Bangui, uncertain whether she could ever find safety either in CAR or back in Turkey. Ultimately, she chose to return to Turkey, expressing lingering fear and a sense that her life there remains constrained.
How the third-country deportation system works
Since the Trump administration, the Department of Homeland Security has negotiated at least 35 bilateral third-country agreements with nations across Africa, Latin America, and elsewhere. These pacts allow U.S. officials to transfer migrants who lack a final order of removal to a third state that agrees to accept them, even when that state is not the migrant’s country of origin.
Critics argue that the mechanism circumvents the principle of non-refoulement – a cornerstone of international refugee law that prohibits returning a person to a place where they face persecution, torture, or death. In practice, the agreements have been used to move LGBTQ claimants, like Aylin, to places where LGBTQ rights are limited or criminalized. Another example involves a 21-year-old bisexual Ghanaian woman, referred to as Adwoa, who was ordered not to be sent back to Ghana because of threats to her safety. Instead, she was flown to Cameroon, where same-sex activity can carry a prison term of up to five years. While detained in a government facility, she describes feeling “like a criminal” and fears for her life should she ever be forced to return to Ghana.
Data from the watchdog group Third Country Deportation Watch indicates that thousands of migrants have been sent to these partner nations this year, but the U.S. does not disclose how many were deported on the basis of sexual orientation or gender identity. Advocacy groups, such as Immigration Equality, warn that the numbers are rising sharply and that the practice is “unconscionable” when it targets queer and trans people.
Human-rights response and ongoing legal battles
Human-rights organisations have highlighted that nearly half of the countries receiving U.S. deportees are African states where homosexuality is still criminalized. The resulting environment, they say, fuels a resurgence of anti-LGBTQ rhetoric and policies that make life dangerous for newcomers.
Legal challenges are already underway. A federal appeals court recently upheld a lower-court ruling that parts of the third-country deportation program violate U.S. law, setting the stage for a possible Supreme Court review. The Department of Homeland Security, however, maintains that the agreements provide due process and are essential for national security, stating that “if a judge finds an illegal alien has no right to be in this country, we are going to remove them.”
For the individuals caught in this system, the choice is stark: remain in detention, risk relocation to a hostile nation, or attempt a dangerous onward journey. Aylin, now back in Turkey, says she plans to seek work and eventually leave for Europe “secretly,” underscoring how the policy leaves many without a clear path to safety.
International observers argue that the United States, a signatory to the 1951 Refugee Convention, must honor its obligations under the principle of non-refoulement. As the debate continues, the stories of Aylin, Adwoa, and others serve as a stark reminder that legal safeguards can be undermined when policy shortcuts prioritize expediency over human dignity.
