The Trump administration knew that Venezuelans sent to prison in El Salvador had no criminal record.

ProPublica is an independent, nonprofit media outlet that produces investigative journalism in the public interest. This article is co-published with The Texas Tribune, Alianza Rebelde Investiga, an editorial coalition of Venezuelan digital media outlets, and Cazadores de Fake News, a digital investigative organization.

The U.S. government knew that the vast majority of the 238 Venezuelan migrants it sent to a maximum-security prison in El Salvador in mid-March had not been convicted of any crime in the United States, even before labeling them terrorists and deporting them, according to previously undisclosed records from the U.S. Department of Homeland Security (DHS).

President Donald Trump and his colleagues have called migrants “rapists,” “savages,” “monsters,” and “the worst of the worst.” When multiple news outlets challenged those labels with reports that many of those deported lacked criminal records, the administration insisted it based its assessment of the deportees on meticulous vetting that included examining crimes committed both inside and outside the United States. But the government's own records, obtained by ProPublica, The Texas Tribune, and a team of journalists from Venezuela, show that only 32 of them have been convicted of crimes in the United States, mostly nonviolent, such as shoplifting or traffic violations.

Official information indicates that the government was aware that only six of the migrants had been convicted of violent crimes: four for assault, one for kidnapping, and another for weapons possession. It was also aware that half, or 130, of the deportees had no criminal records or pending charges in the U.S. They are only listed in their own files as violators of immigration laws.

Regarding crimes abroad, our review of police and justice records in the United States and the Latin American countries where the deportees previously resided found evidence of arrests or convictions in only 20 of the 238 cases. Of these, 11 involved violent crimes such as armed robbery, assault, or murder, including the case of a man the Chilean government requested be extradited from the United States to face trial on kidnapping and drug charges. Four others had been charged with illegal firearms possession.

We also investigated each of the Venezuelan deportees' cases. There may be crimes or other information about their pasts that we didn't find in our investigation or in the official information, which includes only minimal details about nine of them. There is no single database dedicated to crimes committed in the United States—much less abroad—that is publicly available. But everything we did find contradicts the U.S. government's claims.

ProPublica and the Tribune, along with Venezuelan media outlets Alianza Rebelde Investiga and Cazadores de Fake News, also obtained lists of suspected gang members used by Venezuelan law enforcement agencies and Interpol. They include 1,400 names; none of them match those of the 238 deportees.

The swiftness of the removal and imprisonment in a third country have made this one of the most high-profile deportations in recent memory. The legal battles over whether President Trump has the authority to expel immigrants without going through the courts could fundamentally alter how the United States deals with them, whether they reside legally or illegally in its territory. U.S. officials have publicly suggested that, to achieve the president's goal of deporting millions of migrants, the administration is considering suspending habeas corpus, a long-standing constitutional right that allows detention to be challenged.

Hours before the migrants were to be put on planes in Texas to take them to El Salvador, the government justified their deportation by citing the Alien Enemies Act of 1798, claiming, without evidence, that the Tren de Aragua prison gang had invaded the United States with the help of the Venezuelan government. It called the gang a foreign terrorist organization and argued that this gave the president the authority to expel its members and indefinitely detain them in a foreign prison, where the deportees have been held for more than two months without access to their families or lawyers.

Lee Gelernt, a lawyer leading the American Civil Liberties Union's (ACLU) fight against deportations, stated that they represent a "flagrant violation of the most basic principles of due process." Under the law, he said, a migrant who has committed a crime can be charged and deported, but "that doesn't mean they can be subjected to a potential life sentence in a foreign gulag."

In response to our findings, White House spokeswoman Abigail Jackson countered that “ProPublica should be ashamed of itself for serving criminal illegal aliens who are a threat” and added that “the American people strongly support” the president’s immigration agenda.

Asked about the discrepancies between the government's public statements about deportees and the way they are categorized in official information, DHS Assistant Secretary Tricia McLaughlin repeated previously released public statements. She insisted, without providing evidence, that the deportees are dangerous. "These individuals characterized as 'not criminals' are, in fact, terrorists, human rights violators, gang members, and more—it's just that they don't have a criminal record in the United States."

Regarding the government's claim that the Tren de Aragua gang attempted to invade the country, an analysis by U.S. intelligence officials concluded that the gang does not follow orders from Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro's government. Tulsi Gabbard, the Trump administration's director of national intelligence, fired the authors of that report after it was made public. According to news reports, Gabbard's office explained that she seeks to "end the instrumentalization and politicization" of the intelligence community.

Our investigation focused on the 238 Venezuelans deported on March 15 to CECOT, the prison in El Salvador, whose names appeared on a list first published by CBS News. The government has also transferred dozens of other migrants there, including Kilmar Abrego García, a Salvadoran whom the government admits was sent in error. Courts have ordered the government to process his return to the United States.

We interviewed family members and lawyers of about 100 deportees. Many of them contacted their loved ones on the morning of March 15, when they believed they would be returned to Venezuela. They were happy to be reunited with their families, excited to prepare their favorite dishes and organize parties for them. Some of the family members shared with us or on social media videos recorded in US detention centers. In them, the detainees say they are afraid of being sent to Guantánamo, the US facility on Cuban territory where Washington has held and tortured detainees, some of them suspected of planning the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. The Trump administration had sent planes of Venezuelan migrants there earlier this year.

None of them had any idea that they were about to be sent to El Salvador.

Among them was Leonardo José Colmenares Solórzano, 31, who left Venezuela and his job as a youth soccer coach last July. According to his sister, Leidys Trejo Solórzano, Leonardo was going through difficult times trying to support himself and his mother: he struggled to find better employment amid the collapsing Venezuelan economy. He was detained while attending an appointment with immigration authorities in October because of his many tattoos, she said. These included family names, a clock, an owl, and a crown, which, she explained, was inspired by the logo of the Real Madrid soccer club.

The DHS information we obtained shows no indication that Colmenares had any criminal record. We also found no convictions or charges against him in the United States or abroad. Trejo asserted that his brother never got into trouble and that he also has no criminal record in Venezuela. He characterized his expulsion from the United States as a kidnapping perpetrated by the government.

“It’s been quite difficult. Talking about it is hard for me,” said Trejo, who has searched the internet for videos and photos of his brother in prison in El Salvador. “I have been awake many nights because of anxiety.”

Internal government records indicate that, with only a few cases, officials labeled all deportees as members of the Tren de Aragua, without providing further information about how they arrived at that conclusion. Court filings and documents we obtained show that the government relied in part on social media posts, connections to known gang members, and tattoos, including crowns, watches, guns, grenades, and Michael Jordan's Jumpman logo. We verified that at least 158 ​​of the Venezuelans held captive in El Salvador have tattoos. But law enforcement sources with expertise in the Tren de Aragua in the United States, Colombia, Chile, and Venezuela told us that tattoos are not an indicator of gang membership.

DHS spokeswoman McLaughlin said the department was confident in its own analysis of gang membership but would not provide information to justify it.

“I think the government wants to portray this as a major effort to protect the public safety of the United States for political reasons,” said John Sandweg, former acting director of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). But “even some of the government's own information shows a gap between what is said and reality,” he noted, referring to the internal official records we obtained.

In them, 67 of the deportees are listed with pending criminal charges, although no details are provided about their alleged crimes. We found police, court, and other records for 38 of them. In some cases, their criminal histories differed from those indicated in the official records. Some defendants had already been convicted, and another was deported even after the charges had been dismissed.

Our investigation found that, as in the cases of deportees who received convictions, the majority of these pending criminal charges involved nonviolent crimes, such as shoplifting, drug possession, or traffic violations.

Six of the 67 had pending charges for attempted murder, assault, armed robbery, firearms possession, or domestic violence. Migrant rights advocates say sending them to prison in El Salvador before their cases are resolved means that Trump, by invoking executive branch authority, completely circumvented the justice system.

One example is the case of Wilker Miguel Gutiérrez Sierra, 23, who was arrested in February 2024 in Chicago on charges of attempted murder, robbery, and aggravated assault after he and three other Venezuelans assaulted a stranger on a train and stole his phone and $400. He pleaded not guilty. Gutiérrez was being electronically monitored while awaiting trial when he was arrested on the street by ICE agents in five black vans, according to court records. Three days later, he was released to El Salvador.

But most of those listed as having pending charges faced less serious charges, according to the records we found. Maikol Gabriel López Lizano, 23, was arrested in Chicago in August 2023 for riding his bicycle on the sidewalk while drinking a can of Budweiser. His partner, Cherry Flores, called his deportation a grave injustice. “They shouldn't have sent him there,” she said. “Why did they have to arrest him for a beer?”

ProPublica's Jeff Ernsthausen, Adriana Núñez, and Carlos Centeno contributed to this report. Translation by Gabriel Pasquini.