For the first time in decades, the US-Mexico border is silent. Here's why

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For the first time in decades, the US-Mexico border is silent. Here's why
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Migration on the US-Mexico border has slowed dramatically
'These people keep thinking that this country is the one that can protect them… well, things have changed.'
Migrant encounters at the U.S.-Mexico border have decreased significantly under President Trump's second term.
While the border has quieted, concerns remain about asylum seekers' access to legal processes and the increased militarization of the border.
Despite the decrease in crossings, debate continues regarding the characterization of the situation as a "crisis."
Across the entire span of the U.S.-Mexico border, the change is stark — and it happened nearly overnight. Where Border Patrol agents encountered well over 100,000 migrants and asylum seekers every month just a year ago, they now see fewer than 10,000.
More than four months into President Trump's second term, one of his signature campaign promises — shutting down the flow of migrants across the border — seems fulfilled. Reporters with the USA TODAY Network traveled to 15 sites along the border from the Pacific to the Gulf, from California to Arizona and Texas, and found much of the same situation in each: few migrants were attempting to cross; once bustling shelters for migrants were ghost towns; local officials expressed relief for no longer having to assist with the flood of people.
Advocates for immigrant rights say the changes mean people fleeing danger in their home countries are denied the legal right to request asylum and may take more dangerous risks to try to enter the U.S. And they decry some of the tactics, like using razor wire and other barrier enhancers along the border wall that they say needlessly injure people.
The military buildup along the border has also raised concerns.
But as the border itself has gone quiet, Trump maintains that it remains in a state of crisis while touting the success of his efforts. The recently passed spending bill by the U.S. House of Representatives includes $150 billion in new money for immigration enforcement, including tens of billions for wall construction and facilities along the border along with tens of billions more for deportation efforts.
"It's kind of a mismatch between rhetoric and reality," said Colleen Putzel-Kavanaugh, associate policy analyst with the nonpartisan Migration Policy Institute, a research think tank.
San Diego: Far fewer immigrants, but more treacherous journeys
SAN DIEGO, CA, and TIJUANA, Mexico — Border Patrol agent Justin Castrejon points to a spot west of the San Ysidro pedestrian crossing where a year ago hundreds of asylum seekers arrived daily and surrendered to agents.
On a sunny May morning, the spot was empty. The only activity was a Border Patrol vehicle pointed toward Tijuana idling under a tent.
Illegal immigration in the area ended almost immediately after the Border Patrol stopped releasing asylum seekers and the government began meting out 'consequences' to illegal border crossers, including imprisonment and quick deportations, Castrejon said.
Instead of dropping migrants off at the border, the government also has started flying migrants from Mexico to the interior to make it harder for them to turn around and cross again, Castrejon said.
The Border Patrol's San Diego sector covers a 60-mile stretch of the border, starting at the Pacific Ocean. Agents in the sector, bordering a city of more than 2 million in Mexico, apprehended just 1,317 migrants in April. That's a 96% decrease from the year before, according to CBP data.
At Movimiento Juventud 2000 in Tijuana, where migrants sleep in tents under a corrugated metal roof, just 42 people remained, down from more than 150 before Trump's border crackdown began, said Jose Maria Garcia Lara, the shelter's director.
The remaining had asylum appointments through the CBP One app but now are stuck in limbo after the app was turned off on Day 1, Garcia Lara said.
Patricia N., a 45-year-old migrant from Nicaragua living at the shelter, said she can't return to that country.
Patricia, who declined to give her full last name, said the police in Nicaragua extort money. They are looking for her after she refused, and she is afraid she could be killed if she goes back, she said.
'That's my true dream … to be in my country, with my children, to have a stable life. But I can't. I'd risk my life,' Patricia said.
The changes have led some migrants to make more treacherous journeys.
Back in the U.S., Castrejon parked his white and green Border Patrol truck facing a panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean where the border fence suddenly stops as the land meets the sea. Smugglers have used this area to skirt around the border fence on jet skis, fishing boats and other vessels, Castrejon said.
Days earlier, a panga fishing boat packed with migrants overturned about 30 miles up the coast near Del Mar.
At least three migrants drowned, including a 14-year-old boy from India, and seven more were missing and presumed dead, according to the U.S. Attorney's Office for California's Southern District and the U.S. Coast Guard.
Yuma area: Change didn't come fast enough
YUMA, AZ, and MEXICALI, Mexico — Brent Smart eased the chopper into the air, the start of a daylong tour of the Yuma border by helicopter and on land.
Smart flies helicopters for the Yuma branch of the U.S. Customs and Border Protection Air and Marine Operations.
During the tour, which covered roughly 40 square miles of the southern border from Yuma to Wellton, Arizona, not a single migrant was seen.
There were zero signs of illegal immigration activity anywhere, even in gaps along the border fence where just months ago groups of asylum seekers, among them families with young children, crossed into the U.S. daily on foot and surrendered to the Border Patrol.
A 200,000-square-foot tent contractors built to help the Border Patrol process hundreds of asylum seekers daily was also gone.
In San Luis, a city of 40,000 in southwest Arizona that sits on the border with Mexico, the decrease in migrants has been astounding, said Nieves Riedel, the mayor.
Migrants have stopped climbing the border fence that runs through the city and dashing into neighborhoods in San Luis to hide, sometimes stealing bikes and other items, Riedel said.
What is happening at the border?
Migrant encounters at the U.S.-Mexico border have decreased significantly under President Trump's second term.
The Border Patrol also has stopped calling the San Luis police and fire departments for help processing large groups of asylum seekers or providing medical assistance to migrants severely dehydrated or injured during their trek to the U.S.
Former President Joe Biden waited too long to take action, said Riedel, a lifelong Democrat now an independent. "It's sad to really admit the fact that President Biden could have done something sooner because, at the end, I think the last four months, he did. He implemented new rules, and the problems started getting better. But he wasn't fast enough," she said.
Shelters in Nogales, San Luis Rio Colorado and Mexicali on the Mexican side of the border across from Arizona and California have also emptied.
Many migrants have given up trying to enter the United States. They have left the shelters to try and build a life in other parts of Mexico, said Altagracia Tamayo, who oversees the operations of several nonprofit migrant shelters in Mexicali.
Nogales: Deportees, not migrants, showing up in shelter
NOGALES, Mexico — In the largest metro region along the Arizona border, Nogales shelters that once bustled with people seeking housing and other services now see significant drops in the number of people they are helping.
A few hundred feet from the Mariposa Port of Entry sits a tall, white building with "Kino Border Initiative" emblazoned on it. The Migrant Aid Center houses most of the nonprofit's services, including access to legal assistance, a medical clinic, and it's a place where the migrant community goes for meals.
The center celebrated the Mexican holiday El Día de los Niños, or the Day of the Child, on April 30 with a full house, said Joanna Williams, the executive director of the Kino Border Initiative.
'Over 100 people came and enjoyed that celebration,' she said. But on days where no celebration is to be had, Williams said her shelter sees about 20 to 30 people daily.
"I don't think that is particularly surprising,' Williams said. More than half of the migrant population Kino serves has jobs, she said. 'Many of them are spending six days a week working at their job and might just come to Kino on their day off.'
Williams said another contributor is the decrease in the number of new arrivals: between one and five each day. Kino is used to seeing about 500 to 700 new arrivals every month, averaging approximately 16 to 23 people daily in recent years.
'The type of people who are arriving at KBI has changed dramatically,' Williams said. 'This time last year, 70% of the people we were receiving were people who were fleeing violence and hadn't yet crossed the border.'
"Right now, almost all of the newer arrivals are people who have been deported from the U.S.,' Williams said, adding that many of the deportees are people who were living in the country.
The Kino Border Initiative estimates that about 150 to 200 people remain in Nogales, seeking an opportunity to cross into the United States.
The shelter can accommodate up to 85 people daily, according to the nonprofit's website. Currently, only three or four people reside there, Williams said.
Douglas: Border Patrol agents return to regular posts
DOUGLAS, AZ — As he drives along a dusty road near the border wall west of the Raul H. Castro Port of Entry — named after Arizona's first and only Latino governor — Border Patrol Agent Daniel Hernandez waves at fellow agents stationed in their vehicles.
'We have about a mile and change before you get to populated areas,' Hernandez said during a ride-along in the Douglas area of responsibility.
'Our biggest focus as agents, they're ready to respond to anything right here,' Hernandez said, gesturing toward two Chevrolet Tahoe SUVs parked adjacent to each other, identifiable by the distinctive green side stripe and the phrase 'U.S. BORDER PATROL' visible on the back of the vehicles. 'We want to make sure that if somebody comes over, we're there within a few seconds to a couple minutes. Otherwise, they can get to the highway.'
In recent weeks, Border Patrol agents were instructed to return to their regular posts, or as agents referred to it, a 'front-facing posture.' Agents are to spread out a few hundred feet from each other, parallel to the wall. Under normal circumstances, this is how Border Patrol has practiced its law enforcement operations for years.
But under the surge of people coming across the border to seek asylum, that practice had to change.
'We have a posture of actual enforcement,' Hernandez said. 'Prior to this, we were doing mostly processing.'
During former President Joe Biden's term in office, hundreds of people showed up along stretches of the southern border where they could cross and turn themselves in to Border Patrol agents.
A large portion of the agents at the Douglas Station were taken off patrol duties there and were assigned to assist with data intake for asylum-seekers, Hernandez said. The process took considerable time, as agents were often dealing with whole family units that required more resources.
'This system was set up historically for single adults, male or female — but single adults — and those require less processing time,' Hernandez said.
Hernandez drove to a spot where people would turn themselves in along the wall on the base of a hill.
'This is where the Normandy would start and then continue over the hill,' Hernandez said.
Vehicle barriers, often referred to as Normandy barriers because of their use in World War II, are often installed where the border wall system has openings.
The construction to close these gaps continued during the Biden administration. What used to be a point where asylum-seekers would surrender to Douglas Border Patrol agents is now just a few additional feet of border wall.
El Paso/Juárez: 'There is no one, everyone has left'
EL PASO, TX, and JUÁREZ, Mexico — The foot traffic crossing the Paso del Norte bridge between El Paso and Juárez is quiet, but normal for the Borderland.
Residents of both cities cross back and forth over the Río Grande that separates the sister cities for work, school and tourism. But today, gone are the hundreds of migrants desperately waiting each day for CBP One appointments.
The streets across the border town have gone back to a relative quiet.
"There were many migrants in the city center when I arrived," said Anderson Indriago, a 34-year-old immigrant from Venezuela who arrived in Juárez in January for a CBP One appointment. "Now when you walk around the center, there is not many. There is no one, everyone has left."
The remaining migrants in Juárez, like Indriago, are thinking through their next steps. While he is still unsure of his next move, some of the people he has met in the last four months have returned home or have migrated to Spain or Costa Rica.
"I am trying to gather funds to see where I can go," Indriago said. "But the future is uncertain."
The only immigrants crossing the Paso del Norte bridge are deportees.
Edín Pérez Pérez wore a blue crewneck sweatshirt and carried a green mesh bag containing his few belongings as he was deported to Mexico on May 13. He walked quickly across the border, following two other men as they were led to the Mexican immigration office on the Juárez side of the bridge.
He was a long way from his home in southern Mexico; but he was also farther from South Carolina, where he had lived for five years before his deportation to Mexico.
Mexico has received 37,471 Mexicans and 5,511 migrants of other nationalities since Trump took office, President Claudia Sheinbaum said May 8. Over 2,000 Mexican nationals have passed through the government's deportation reception center in Juárez since the center opened in February.
Pérez Pérez was relieved to be in Mexico after spending 11 days in an ICE detention facility.
"Thank God that I am back," he said as he entered the immigration agency office.
Shelters across Juárez have seen a sharp decline in the migrants arriving at their doors, with some starting to shutter rooms that once housed migrants.
Pastor Juan Fierro García of the Buen Samaritano shelter in Juárez could offer around 180 migrants a bed at the height of the mass arrival in 2018. But he has seen the number dwindle, only housing just over 30 migrants on May 16.
He was forced to close a branch of the shelter that was opened to house families in 2023, as numbers have fallen. The decision was made to save money on electricity as the Borderland enters summer, which can see temperatures rise above 100 degrees.
He is unsure how long this trend will continue, but he jokes he can now take a vacation. Still, he repudiates the Trump administration's narrative of a crisis at the border.
"We don't know how long this will last and we don't know what's going to happen next," Fierro García said. "We do not have a migration crisis."
Eagle Pass/Piedras Negras: 'No one can pass there'
EAGLE PASS, TX, and PIEDRAS NEGRAS, Mexico — The Texas National Guard encampment in Eagle Pass' Shelby Park remains a site of activity, even as the park has partially opened to the public.
Texas Department of Public Safety helicopters circled along the Río Grande as they prepared to land alongside the encampment, as Texas National Guard airboats patrolled the river.
Texas National Guard troops sat in barricades overlooking the river, behind rows and rows of razor wire-covered shipping containers that Gov. Greg Abbott brought to barricade the banks of the river as part of his Operation Lone Star.
But there are no migrants crossing the river, and the single shelter in Eagle Pass has closed.
There is no crisis at the border, said Sister Isabel Turcios, the director of the Frontera Digna migrant shelter in Piedras Negras, across the Río Grande from Eagle Pass.
The Catholic Church-run shelter has seen the number of migrants arriving dramatically decline, she said. She knows a few may try, but they are trying farther downriver as militarization of the border has dissuaded migrants from attempting to cross.
Texas migrant shelter sees significant decrease in arrivals
Sister Isabel Turso, director of La Casa del Migrante, said the shelter used to receive between 600 and 700 migrants a day. Now, they only have 68.
Omar Ornelas/ El Paso Times
"No one can pass there," Turcios said. "They know that the (U.S.) authorities are there, watching the border."
The shelter once housed between 600 and 700 migrants, and at the height of the mass arrival at the border they served over 1,000 people per day. But on May 20, there were 57 migrants waiting in the shelter.
Many migrants have chosen to move to Monterrey, Mexico, or have returned home, Turcios said.
The few migrants in Piedras Negras sit and wait to see if the Trump administration announces any new policies. Others are considering returning home. But a few migrants in dire situations continue to arrive at the border.
Jerica Mina Barberán arrived at the shelter on May 19 with her three children, including a toddler. They arrived after they were conned, losing her cell phone and documents.
The family from Guayaquil, Ecuador, had a difficult journey north, including getting robbed. That resulted in the family not having the resources to make it to a CBP One appointment to seek asylum at the U.S. border. Trump shut down CBP One upon entering office.
She had hoped to join her husband, who is currently living in the U.S. But now she waits to see what options she has. She maintains hope that a route will open for her family.
"I feel confused," Mina Barberán, 32, said. "But only God has the final word; God provides."
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Del Rio and Ciudad Acuña: Migrants in shelter hold out hope for change
CIUDAD ACUÑA, Mexico and DEL RIO, TX — Further west of Piedras Negras, the streets of Ciudad Acuña, Mexico, are now quiet.
Mexican National Guard troops once roamed the Mexican border town, which sits across from Del Rio, Texas, looking to detain migrants and deport them south to the Guatemala-Mexico border. They are now gone.
A lone U.S. Border Patrol van sits on the banks of the U.S. side of the Río Grande, overlooking the calm river as Mexican families enjoy the cool waters of the river on a hot afternoon.
Today there are only a few migrants remaining across from Del Rio.
They are waiting in the lone shelter in Arcuña, the Emauss shelter, to see if the Trump administration opens up a new way of immigrating to the U.S.
Sara Gómez, a 54-year-old from Honduras, has waited with her two children and her nephew in the shelter for over a year. Gómez had hoped that they would get a coveted appointment through CBP One, but they never received one.
She and others waiting in the shelter are hoping that the Trump administration will once again process asylum cases or open other options for those hoping to migrate to the U.S.
"What everyone here wants is for them to give us an opportunity to enter (the U.S.), and for it to be soon," she said.
Rio Grande Valley: Without migrants, shelter now aids local families
McALLEN, TX — Sister Norma Pimentel, director of the Rio Grande Valley Catholic Charities, can recall when the shelter at McAllen's Humanitarian Respite Center was bustling with activity. Now it sits almost empty.
"It's almost at zero as people aren't being allowed to enter the country or are immediately told to turn around or put in detention centers," Pimentel said. "You see more militarization by the river where the fencing is placed, but we really don't see it as we were expecting it to be. I expected something similar to what we have today in terms of people not allowed to enter the country."
Last year, the center received an estimated 600 migrants daily, dropped off by Border Patrol or as walk-ins. That number trickled to a mere 150 in the days leading up to President Trump's inauguration as fears grew the CBP One App used to claim political asylum would cease.
Now the center does not even take migrants and operates as a temporary shelter for local families dealing with housing issues or emergencies like the recent flooding in the Rio Grande Valley.
"At our peak, we had 30 to 50 people helping run the shelter as staff, and now we only have one person per shift," Pimentel said. "When (migrants) would come here, we were doing something approved by the federal government. The current administration is misleading the public in saying what we were doing was illegal, but that was in line with our Gospel values and laws of this nation."
Catholic Charities Rio Grande Valley runs three community centers with locations in McAllen, Brownsville, and San Juan, Texas.
McAllen City Manager Isaac Tawil underscored that illegal immigration encounters were down significantly, with an average daily count of zero on some days and other days with only between five and 10 people in the region.
"Much of the help for migrants in a city like McAllen was being done by non-governmental organizations, which can now focus on other needs and families," Tawil said. "McAllen regularly ranks as one of the safest cities in the nation through the ups and downs of migration. We haven't seen a visible presence of military personnel on the border."
Tawil was quick to note that immigration enforcement was exclusively a federal matter, but said cities along the U.S.-Mexico border are often the subject of inaccurate narratives.
"With respect to McAllen and the Rio Grande Valley, in general, we are one of the safest locations in the nation. We enjoy a very rich connection with (Mexico) within our community. This is a binational community with an equally binational economy," Tawil said.
Tawil cited the many hundreds of Americans and Mexican individuals who legally cross the border as part of daily life as testament to that.
Aron Peña, Hidalgo County Republican Party outreach chair, lauded the efforts by the Trump administration in getting control of what he characterized as a "border crisis" in the region under Biden. But he dismissed those who said the crisis was over.
"There's a major emphasis on deporting very bad people that both political parties can agree upon. There still is a border crisis if you look at these rural counties where people are getting away from (border enforcement)."