They joined the military thinking it was a path to citizenship – then they found out they were being deported

Your support helps us to tell the story

Support Now

Find out moreClose

Our mission is to deliver unbiased, fact-based reporting that holds power to account and exposes the truth.

Whether $5 or $50, every contribution counts.

Support us to deliver journalism without an agenda.

Louise Thomas

Editor

Military veteran Bineveido Perez stood before a judge in May 2001. He joined the Army in 1972 and served believing he would have the same rights as a citizen when he left. He learned years later that, as an immigrant, he did not.

The realization came as he was cuffed, booked and months later appeared before the judge convicted of drug charges. That meant he had to leave the US. The fact he fought for the nation meant little, the law told him to “get out.”

“I got the news that ‘we don’t care that you’re a veteran, you’re gonna have to go in front of a judge and he’s going to decide whether you are deportable or not’,” he tells The Independent.

Perez’s situation is not unique. There are roughly 94,000 immigrant veterans who have not been “naturalized” and vulnerable to deportation should they have run-ins with the law. Many believed that serving in the military would allow them to stay.

Through initiatives such as “humanitarian parole” exist to help repatriate veterans, many live in fear that one small mistake may result in them being taken from their families and deported from the lives they have built in the country they defended.

Immigration lawyers and veterans themselves say the immigration system is in serious need of a revamp, to offer better protection to those who have been willing to sacrifice their lives for their country even if they run into future legal problems.

Perez’s situation started innocuously in September 2000 as he rode in a car on his way to a New York Mets game. The ride turned into a deserted parking lot where cops quickly swarmed the vehicle.

“The next thing I know there’s these black cars, everybody has guns, and there’s a helicopter,” he told The Independent. “And I was like, damn, what the hell? Who the hell is this guy?”

Unbeknown to Perez, the “friend” he was riding with was an undercover federal agent and the veteran was being arrested for drug-related crimes. After pleading guilty at trial, he was sentenced to six months in jail and a rehabilitation program.

He was later informed that due to immigration laws, the judge had no say in allowing him to stay in the country. In New York, drug trafficking is classified as “aggravated felonies” or “crimes involving moral turpitude” that result in deportation. Perez was deported to the Dominican Republic in 2004 – the place he left at nine years old.

“I had no knowledge of how I was going to survive, how I was going to make it,” he says. “I was put into exile… This [the US] is the only country I really know… We lost everything.”

He later returned on humanitarian parole – which allows certain non-US citizens to enter the country if they lack any legal basis for admission. However, parole does not provide any permanent pathway to remain in the United States and can expire at any time.

A 2020 report from the University of California Law School in San Francisco noted a “backlog” of over 730,000 applications for naturalization and that “the delays are particularly pronounced for noncitizens in the military.”

Like Perez, Juan Quiroz served in the US military and received an honorable discharge after joining in 2004. He worked as a track mechanic but served three years behind bars – also on drug-related crimes.

“When I saw the judge I told her, ‘I’m a United States Army veteran, I have an honorable discharge’,” he recalled. “She said, basically, ‘If you were in the military, then you should have known better, you’re going home’. So she deported me, and I was gone for about 10 years.”

Quiroz was sent back to Mexico and was not allowed to return, not even to attend the funeral of his father Emiliano, who died in the US in December 2021.

Like Perez, he was eventually learned about the humanitarian parole system and was allowed to return to the US temporarily.

He still lives in fear of being deported again. “They told me as long as I’m here taking care of my family and staying out of trouble, that I would have no reason to get deported,” he says.

“I’m always worried and I’m always stressed out. I get anxiety thinking that one day that they’re going to take me from my family once again… I served this country, but I made one mistake, and they took everything from me.”

Perez’s naturalization is still in limbo because he is waiting for a final answer on whether he can stay. “Right now, I’m here undocumented, waiting on a decision,” he says. “When my humanitarian parole expires, my work authorization expires as well. So right now, I can’t work, I can’t do anything.”

For Perez, that limbo period is almost at an end. On Wednesday, he underwent what he expects to be one of his final interviews with United States Citizenship and Immigration Services before being officially naturalized.

But he worries for the fates of his veteran brotherhood, especially as the presidential election in November edges closer, referring specifically to comments about immigrants made by Donald Trump.

During his 2024 presidential campaign, the former president has said that illegal immigration is “poisoning the blood of our nation” and, more recently, has peddled baseless claims that migrant communities in Ohio are “eating the pets of the people that live there.”

Trump has also reportedly referred to US soldiers who have died in war as “suckers” and “losers.”

“It concerns me,” Perez says. “Not for myself, because I don’t think he has anything that can turn back the hands of time, but I feel for many immigrants, not only veterans, because of the rhetoric and all [Trump’s] buffoonish type of comments.”

He added: “The whole immigration system has to be revamped, to be more fair for everyone. But the consideration should always be that if you are willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for your country, then there should be certain exceptions.”

Despite such unfairness and uncertainty, the pride of their service remains. “I will always be proud of what I’ve done, regardless,” Quiroz told The Independent. “I always tell everybody if I had the opportunity… I would serve this country all over again.

“But I do feel like I’ve been let down. I’ve been lied to. Because the oath that I swore is the same as the oath that you do when you’re a citizen.”