This is an opinion from the Center.
ICE, ICE, ICE — it fills the headlines these days, and not without reason. Our American republic has long wrestled with the question of borders. From the earliest days of our presence on this contested continent, boundaries have never been far from the national mind: first with Native nations, then with the French, the British, and the Spanish. The matter of who may enter, and on what terms, has always been bound up with the survival of these United States.
This is the land of the free and the home of the brave, and there are many across the world who seek to partake in the opportunity that flows more freely within our borders than in most other lands. Our open markets, our form of capitalism, and our liberties—hard-won and imperfect—prove a powerful draw.
We have long taken pride in being a melting pot, and rightly so. It is among the qualities that has made America strong: the ability for people to come, to be accepted, and to build lives grounded in American ideals—democracy, liberty, and the rule of law. Many have died in pursuit of this land, and many have died to defend it. The altar of freedom has never been clean; it has always been soaked in blood.
During the Obama administration, it was widely acknowledged that the migrant crisis had grown out of control. Over 3.1 million non-citizens were formally removed during that presidency—a figure often forgotten in today’s debates. ICE has long played a role, however uncomfortable, in the difficult stewardship of those who yearn to taste the fruit of freedom.
For decades now, the central question has remained unresolved: is it our moral duty to permit the passage of migrants into the US so they may enjoy the liberties we ourselves possess? Broadly speaking, conservatives maintain that entry must be lawful, while many on the left argue for naturalization or asylum once the border is crossed, regardless of prior visa preparation. Some arrive with no financial means; others flee cartels, violence, or mortal threat. These realities complicate what might otherwise be a simple rule.
History offers warnings as well as lessons. Rome, too, absorbed waves of migrants—sometimes to its strength, sometimes to its undoing. The loss of shared culture, if unmanaged, can erode even the mightiest of civilizations. The challenge before us, then, is not whether compassion or order should prevail, but how both may endure together.
President Trump ran and won on the issue of immigration. Above all his other campaign promises, this is one he has kept. The border is now secure, and ICE, newly unbridled, moves town by town, city by city, seeking those here illegally—whether in churches, hospitals, or their own homes.
Across the political landscape, it has been unsettling to watch both left and right react with immediate certainty to the deaths of individuals such as Good and Pretti, as though the machinery of party politics had already rendered its verdict before the facts could be soberly weighed. In doing so, much of the public discourse has overlooked the humanity of all involved, the victims, the families, and those tasked with enforcement.
ICE continues to publish its findings as operations unfold, highlighting arrests of individuals with histories of violent crime, including a recent case involving a Salvadoran national removed from Maryland on charges of rape. Meanwhile, The Washington Post and much of the left-leaning media have focused on testimony from a former ICE director, emphasizing claims that enforcement training has been weakened or misapplied. Two narratives now move in parallel, each partial, each incomplete, each claiming moral authority while rarely engaging the whole truth.
The American people voted for this. Trump promised it. And the bitter truth is that it is ugly to watch.
Christian Mangum is a soldier in the US Army National Guard. He has a Center bias.
This piece was reviewed and edited by News Analyst and Social Media Editor Malayna J. Bizier (Right), and News Editor Emily Allen (Left).
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