The Caribbean’s Limited Capacity to Absorb Third-Country Deportees

By Ronald Sanders

Migration policy is an expression of sovereign authority. Governments are entitled – rightly so – to regulate their borders, determine who may lawfully enter, and enforce the terms of residence.

The United States exercises that authority vigorously, as it has every right to do. So, too, do Caribbean governments, which impose visa requirements, restrict overstays, and manage their own borders with the same legitimacy, if far fewer resources. That is standard state practice.

The trouble begins when one state’s assertion of sovereignty imposes disproportionate obligations on others. That is precisely the situation now confronting the Caribbean and other resource-constrained developing nations.

Washington is pressing them to accept individuals who are not their citizens – people the United States wishes to deport but cannot, or will not, send home directly.

A Policy Already in Motion

These arrangements are no longer hypothetical. Panama acknowledged in February 2025 that it had already received 119 migrants of multiple nationalities under such an agreement, with hundreds more expected.

Costa Rica accepted its first group in April 2026, under terms permitting up to 25 arrivals per week. Paraguay announced a similar arrangement the same month.

El Salvador has gone furthest of all, publicly agreeing to detain U.S. deportees in a specially designated prison facility – for a fee. The policy, in other words, is not being debated. It is being implemented.

The Caribbean has not been spared. Public reporting and independent policy trackers indicate that several Caribbean governments have been approached, and that at least three have agreed in some form, frequently without the full terms being disclosed.

The Migration Policy Institute has noted that many such agreements remain unpublished, leaving the precise obligations of receiving states dangerously unclear.

The Devil Is in the Draft

A draft framework agreement now circulating in the region makes the concern concrete. It contemplates the monthly transfer of a specified number of individuals, with receiving states given just 72 hours’ notice.

Background and criminal information would be provided only “if available” or “to the extent known” – a formulation that could mean almost nothing in practice. The draft further specifies that operating procedures carry no binding commitment of U.S. financial resources.

The receiving country, in short, is expected to regularize the status of these individuals upon arrival and manage whatever follows, largely on its own.

This is not cooperation. It is cost-shifting.

When a sending state retains broad discretion over who is transferred, shares information selectively, and makes no binding commitment to cover settlement costs, while the receiving state must absorb all consequences upon arrival, the balance of obligation has been broken. For large, wealthy nations, such arrangements may seem administratively routine.

For small island and coastal states, they are anything but. The pressures generated – on labor markets, public services, social cohesion, and public order – are not marginal inconveniences.

They are potentially destabilizing. Over time, they can alter the demographic character of a country that never consented to that transformation.

A Humanitarian Cost That Does Not Disappear

There is also a humanitarian dimension that deserves far more scrutiny than it has received. Migrants transferred to third countries typically have no family connections there, may not speak the language, and often arrive with uncertain legal status and no clear path to resolution.

Reuters reported in March that U.S. third-country removal policy has proceeded in cases where migrants received as little as six hours’ notice. Litigation over whether that satisfies basic due process requirements is ongoing.

But even if American courts ultimately uphold elements of the policy, the humanitarian costs will not disappear – they will simply be displaced onto the countries that agree to receive these individuals.

None of this need become a matter of confrontation with Washington. The United States is entitled to decide who may enter and remain within its borders.

It is equally reasonable – and equally lawful – for Caribbean states to insist, with the same clarity, that they are entitled to decide whether they can responsibly accept non-nationals, and if so, on what legal basis, for how long, at whose expense, and with what safeguards in place. That is not defiance. It is prudence. It reflects the foundational principles that have long governed how sovereign states engage with one another.

Cooperation Must Have Conditions

If Washington seeks Caribbean cooperation in this endeavor, the minimum conditions are not complicated: the terms must be genuinely negotiated rather than handed down; the legal status of every person received must be clearly established before transfer; all associated costs must be fully and reliably covered; and vetting must be rigorous and complete.

The receiving state’s right to refuse, suspend, or terminate any such arrangement must be explicit, unconditional, and free of diplomatic penalty. Above all, this burden cannot simply be redistributed to nations that lack the institutional capacity to bear it safely or humanely – nations that are already contending with their own citizens’ deteriorating economic circumstances, the accelerating costs of climate-driven disasters, elevated global commodity prices, wars roiling both the Middle East and Europe, and severely constrained access to international financial markets.

The Caribbean has always demonstrated goodwill toward the United States. That goodwill is real, and it is worth preserving. But goodwill is not unlimited, and neither is absorptive capacity.

The region already accepts the return of its own nationals from the United States, and it does so without complaint. The organized reception of deportees who are not its nationals is an entirely different proposition – one that cannot become a standing expectation unless it is structured in a manner that is legally sound, financially supported, and genuinely equitable. For partnership, to mean anything, must work for both sides.

Ronald Sanders is Antigua & Barbuda’s Ambassador to the US and the OAS, and the Chancellor of The University of Guyana