“The American Dream is over” – How Trump’s deportation policies are driving Latin Americans to Spain

Benjamin Enrique Berardinelli Manjarrez sits in a sidewalk café in Madrid, where spring is slowly giving way to the heat of summer. He is 33 years old, Colombian, and has only been here for a few weeks – arriving via Italy, stranded in Spain. His journey was originally supposed to lead in a different direction: to the United States. “My first plan was to go to the U.S. Like many other Latin Americans, I dreamed of the American dream – of a better life and the chance to earn money,” he says. “There, you can earn enough in a single day to pay a month’s rent in Colombia.” But then Donald Trump became president again – and with him returned a policy that not only closes borders but also redirects lives.

Berardinelli had planned to cross through Mexico, illegally. But Trump’s tightened immigration policies forced him to turn back. “Many of my Colombian friends say they want to go back. They don’t feel safe anymore, they’re afraid of ICE and the police,” he says. His wife and nearly three-year-old son remained in Bogotá. In Spain, he will not be eligible to apply for a residence permit for people in an “irregular situation” for another two years at the earliest. And yet he says: “The U.S. has become too dangerous. The American dream is over. Now Europe is our goal.” Spain is no coincidence – it’s a crossroads. Same language, similar culture, visa-free short stays – for many Latinos, Madrid is not just the geographic but also the psychological alternative to the U.S. border. The numbers reflect that: In the first quarter of 2025 alone, Spain registered 23,724 asylum applications from Venezuelans – a 54 percent increase compared to the previous year. And that, says Ana María Diez, is just the beginning. Diez is president of the international Coalition for Venezuela. “Many people are now afraid to go to the U.S. – because of Trump’s xenophobic and anti-rights rhetoric. They’re giving up the American dream and hoping for the European one – and that usually starts in Spain.” Coalition for Venezuela. „Viele haben jetzt Angst, in die USA zu gehen – wegen Trumps fremdenfeindlicher und antirechtlicher Rhetorik. Sie geben den amerikanischen Traum auf und hoffen auf den europäischen – und der beginnt meistens in Spanien.“

In Mexico, the number of people deported from the U.S. has risen to nearly 39,000. And the trend is not ending. The U.S. Supreme Court has now allowed the Trump administration to terminate deportation protection programs for about 350,000 Venezuelans. The political message is clear – protection now comes with an expiration date, and only for those who fit the mold. In a confidential conversation, a Venezuelan lawyer who had arrived in Madrid three days earlier said that he too had originally planned to go to the U.S. “Under Biden, it was difficult – but possible. Now with Trump, it’s almost impossible,” says the 40-year-old. He had previously applied for asylum in Austria – unsuccessfully. He then returned to Venezuela, hoping to eventually make it to the U.S. Then came the news that a friend of his had drowned trying to make the journey. That changed everything. Now he’s hoping to benefit from a Spanish law that allows descendants of Spanish emigrants to apply for citizenship. He wants to bring his wife and two children. He has little money. “I don’t know where I’ll sleep in the next few weeks. I hope I can find a small black-market job during tourist season. Forty or fifty euros a day – that would be something. Madrid is very expensive.”

People already living in the U.S. are also seeking a way out to Europe. “Everyone wants to go to Spain now,” says immigration attorney Máchelin Díaz. Her office has seen a surge in inquiries from Latinos with residency permits or good jobs in the U.S. who are now looking for protection or a new economic opportunity in Europe. But Spain’s system is overwhelmed. With tighter border controls in Italy and Greece, many are entering through the Canary Islands – overcrowding the intake centers. Díaz says: “It can take up to a year to get your first appointment – and then several more months before a decision is made.” While the Spanish government has reformed immigration law to speed up the process, the fundamental issue remains. In 2024, Spain had an asylum approval rate of just 18.5 percent – far below the EU average of 42 percent. Colombians and Cubans are especially affected. “Even though we know these countries lack real democracy, authorities often say people come only for economic reasons – not because they need protection.” One story that exemplifies the new climate is that of Alexander Jose Salazar Ramirez. The 34-year-old Venezuelan had been living in Peru since 2018, politically persecuted – a case for the UN refugee agency. In 2023, he was selected for a resettlement program in the U.S. His flight was booked – February 13, 2025, Chicago. “I had all the documents. I sold everything, quit my job, gave up my apartment,” he says. But one week before departure came the news: flight canceled – by order of the president. Ramirez has been stuck ever since. Returning to Venezuela is not an option – he would face prison. “I’ve been denouncing human rights violations in Venezuela. I’m a target. And I don’t feel safe here either.” He’s considering Spain – but can’t afford the ticket.

Ana María Diez is now calling for Spain, the UN, and the U.S. to jointly develop a structured resettlement program for people like Ramirez. “Otherwise, these people are left stuck – with no alternatives,” she says. The Spanish government has announced plans to take in a large portion of the Latinos deported from the U.S. – but no details have been released yet. “The recent decisions in the U.S. have sadly shaken the entire South American region,” Diez says. “Other countries are already following suit – even Argentina, which used to be a safe haven. Now the barriers are rising there too. And that will drive even more people into exile.”

In the end, a bitter realization remains – the American dream has lost its power, not only in the hearts of those who once believed in it, but also in the global reality it helped shape. What was once hope is now uncertainty. What was once a destination is now a stopover – on an uncertain journey through a Europe that is also struggling. The world is rearranging itself. Only one thing seems certain: no one dreams unconditionally of America anymore.