Judge Boasberg Refuses to Let the Deportations End

A Case That Ended, and a Judge Who Wouldn’t Let It Go

For months, Judge James Boasberg has tried to insert himself into the Trump administration’s use of the Alien Enemies Act to deport suspected gang members. The administration invoked the rarely used wartime law in March to remove more than 200 migrants it identified as members of Venezuela’s Tren de Aragua gang and transferred them to El Salvador’s CECOT mega-prison.

Boasberg objected immediately. He attempted to block the deportation flights and later moved toward contempt proceedings when the planes continued anyway. An appeals court eventually stepped in and paused that effort. By then, the deportations had already occurred.

That should have ended the matter.

The deportations were over. The planes had landed. The prisoners were exchanged. But the judge was not finished.

By the time Boasberg issued his latest order, the moment had already passed. The migrants were no longer in U.S. custody. El Salvador no longer held them. Venezuela had taken them back in a prisoner swap. No ongoing detention remained for a court to halt or correct.

BREAKING: U.S. District Judge James Boasberg just ordered the Trump admin to submit a plan within 2 weeks to return 137 illegals who were deported to El Salvador or give them hearings. pic.twitter.com/T83Qn3Y0AJ

— Libs of TikTok (@libsoftiktok) December 23, 2025

From Oversight to Obsession

Most judges would have accepted that reality.

This activist judge did not. Instead, Boasberg chose to keep the case alive, not by addressing the present, but by reopening the past. His order demands plans for hearings or returns tied to deportations that already happened and cannot be undone. That decision reveals more about judicial temperament than humanitarian urgency.

Boasberg, in his order Monday, said the U.S. government “maintained constructive custody” over the migrants while they were imprisoned at CECOT, and that their right to due process was violated when the Trump administration invoked the Alien Enemies Act to deem them members of Tren de Aragua without allowing them to contest the designation.  – ABC News

Courts exist to resolve live disputes. They do not exist to litigate history once events move beyond their reach. When judges continue anyway, something else drives the effort.

At some point, persistence stops looking principled and starts looking compulsive, the judicial version of Rosie O’Donnell declaring she has moved on from Donald Trump and proving otherwise a few days later.

This ruling reads less like relief and more like insistence.

The Legal Fiction That Keeps a Judge in Control

The administration carried out the deportations under the Alien Enemies Act. An appeals court later paused contempt proceedings related to that action. The executive branch moved on. Boasberg did not. Rather than accept limits, he reached for a theory expansive enough to pull the case back under his control.

That theory goes by the name constructive custody.

Under this legal fiction, the United States supposedly retained responsibility for the migrants even while a foreign government imprisoned them, guarded them, and ultimately transferred them elsewhere. El Salvador held the keys and controlled the prison, deciding when the men left. Boasberg nevertheless treated the detention as American despite the lack of actual control.

Constructive custody does not describe physical authority. It describes proximity. By invoking it, the court claimed jurisdiction over actions that no longer belonged to it.

How does that even make sense? Boasberg is a desperate man .

From Judicial Review to Permanent Oversight

If courts can stretch constructive custody this far, then immigration enforcement never truly finishes. A judge can always reopen a closed case by redefining responsibility. Once that line disappears, executive authority exists only until a judge decides otherwise.

This goes beyond normal court oversight and moves into expansion. The ruling relies on due process language, but it does not change what already happened. The deportations stand, and the executive action remains in place. Nothing in the order fixes the case itself.

What the ruling really does is put the court’s objection on the record. It creates a written marker that says the judge disagreed with how the administration acted, even though he cannot undo it. The flights already took place, and the transfers already happened. The court no longer has the power to change those facts.

That leaves a ruling with little practical effect on this case but real value for future ones. By issuing it anyway, the judge keeps his legal theory alive and forces the administration to respond. That choice looks intentional.

Judicial Authority Without an Off Switch

The language throughout the order stretches outward. Responsibility expands. Authority widens. The tone sounds less like a judge closing a dispute and more like one correcting the record for posterity. This decision appears written to be cited rather than resolved.

Boasberg’s persistence suggests discomfort with being ignored. His initial attempt to halt the deportation failed. The executive branch proceeded. An appeals court intervened. Instead of stepping back, he pushed harder, widening the frame until the court once again stood at the center of the story.

That instinct should concern anyone who cares about separation of powers.

Judicial review plays a vital role. Judicial persistence plays a different one. When courts refuse to accept finality, they stop interpreting law and start competing for authority. The danger does not lie in caring about due process. It lies in treating compliance as optional and finality as unacceptable.

This case no longer asks whether the administration acted wisely. It asks whether judges accept that they are not the final actors in every national decision. Boasberg’s answer appears to be no.

The deportations ended months ago. The legal argument did not. That tells you exactly where the real conflict lives.

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