Trump’s Deportation Threat Fuels Panic
Since Trump’s re-election in November 2024, his administration has doubled down on promises of mass deportations, targeting an estimated 11 million undocumented immigrants. This sweeping threat encompasses hundreds of thousands of migrants from nations like Cuba, Haiti, Nicaragua, and Venezuela—532,000 of whom are set to lose their Temporary Protected Status (TPS) on April 24, 2025. An additional 600,000 Venezuelans and 500,000 Haitians face a similar fate by August, although a federal judge has temporarily halted their status expiration.
Amid this backdrop of uncertainty, the sense of urgency and fear among these communities is palpable. “They’re coming for us,” said Marie Jean-Louis, a Haitian mother of two who crossed into Quebec last week. “ICE is everywhere—churches, workplaces, even the streets. I can’t wait to be caught.” This sentiment reverberates amongst many migrants who once viewed the U.S. as a land of opportunity but now feel ensnared in a tightening trap.
Notably, Trump’s campaign rhetoric has transitioned into concrete policy, promising what he claims will be the “largest deportation operation in American history.” Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) has already intensified its operations, leading to reports of raids in immigrant-heavy communities. For countless individuals, Canada has become their last hope, representing an escape route before the impending semblance of deportation looms.
The Northern Exodus: Quebec’s Border Under Pressure
The Saint-Bernard-de-Lacolle border crossing in Quebec has emerged as ground zero for this burgeoning migration crisis. In March alone, 1,356 asylum claims were filed at this single point of entry, according to data from the Canada Border Services Agency (CBSA)—a staggering figure underscoring the condition’s urgency. By April 6, 2025, Canada recorded 5,246 asylum claims nationwide, although this marked a 53% drop from the 11,118 claims seen during the same period in 2024. Experts caution that such a decline may signify a temporary lull rather than a long-term trend.
“This is just the tip of the iceberg,” warns Frantz André, a Montreal-based advocate for undocumented migrants. “People are moving now because they know what’s coming. They’ve seen the letters from U.S. authorities revoking their status. They’re not waiting for August.” Indeed, desperate families are exploring dangerous clandestine routes as official border crossings become tighter due to the Canada-U.S. Safe Third Country Agreement.
Recently, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) intercepted nine Haitian migrants attempting illegal crossings in Quebec. Emerging from dense forests, they were tired but determined—a testament to how far people will go in search of safety. This incident highlighted the troubling trend of vulnerable families risking their lives to seek refuge.
Canada’s Refugee System: A House of Cards?
Canada has long prided itself on a humanitarian role in international refugee crises, yet the current influx of migrants is profoundly testing that reputation. The Immigration and Refugee Board (IRB) grapples with a backlog of 250,000 cases, with processing times averaging a staggering 44 months. Consequently, with every claim filed at Saint-Bernard-de-Lacolle or any other entry point, the system struggles under mounting bureaucracy.
Professor Jennifer Elrick from McGill University has raised alarms over Canada’s capability to handle this situation. “We’re not equipped for this,” she states. “If even a fraction of those losing TPS in the U.S. head north, it could overwhelm us. We’re talking about a potential social crisis—housing shortages, strained healthcare, and public backlash.”
The statistics paint a grim picture. If just 10% of the 1.632 million migrants facing TPS expiry choose to claim asylum in Canada, that could amount to 163,200 new cases—more than triple the total claims processed throughout 2024. With Trump pushing his agenda forward, the situation could escalate even further. In Montreal, temporary shelters are quickly filling up, and the Olympic Stadium has once again become a makeshift home for asylum seekers, reminiscent of the 2017 surge following Trump’s first term.
A History of Hospitality Meets a Modern Dilemma
Canada’s relationship with the U.S. has historically been characterized as one of open borders, a sanctuary for those fleeing perilous circumstances. In 2017, following Trump’s initial election, an influx of asylum seekers traversed Quebec’s Roxham Road, a route that epitomized hope for many fleeing from the end of TPS. At its height, 3,800 individuals were intercepted in a mere two-week span, predominantly Haitians escaping similar threats.
However, this route was effectively sealed in 2023 when Canada and the U.S. expanded the Safe Third Country Agreement to encompass the entire land border. While this measure curtailed irregular crossings, experts predict that Trump’s initial threats are likely to usher in a return to chaotic conditions reminiscent of 2017—if not worse. “Roxham Road might be closed, but people will find a way,” cautions Melissa Claisse of the Welcome Collective, referencing the desperation that will drive people through perilous means.
Canadians recall the tragedies that have emerged from such perilous crossings, with incidents like families freezing to death in the winter storms or drowning in the St. Lawrence River serving as chilling reminders of the stakes involved.
The Political Firestorm: Calls for a Pause
On the Canadian political landscape, reactions are shifting. Liberal Leader Mark Carney appears to have adopted a harder stance than his predecessor Trudeau, declaring, “It’s not acceptable that people leave the U.S. to claim asylum here.” This change reflects rising discomfort within the party once known for its open-border policies.
Provincial leaders are echoing these concerns. Quebec Premier François Legault has emphatically stated that the province cannot absorb a significant influx and has called for federal assistance in managing the crisis. Meanwhile, political parties like the Parti Québécois and Bloc Québécois are ramping up their rhetoric, demanding more resources to combat human smuggling and bolster security.
Some request a temporary halt to new asylum claims, arguing that Canada must prioritize addressing the existing backlog of applications and ensuring adequate resources to avoid a humanitarian disaster. This suggestion, though controversial and in direct conflict with Canada’s progressive image, is gaining traction as the crisis intensifies.
The Human Cost: Stories From the Frontline
Behind the statistics lie the stories of individuals who are desperately seeking safety. Jean-Pierre, a Venezuelan father, recently crossed into Quebec with his wife and toddler, leaving behind a life of uncertainty. Their journey involved hours of navigating muddy forests and avoiding patrols, driven by the instinctive need for safety. Now, once settled in a Montreal shelter, they face an uncertain future, waiting for hearings that could take years. “I just want safety for my family,” Jean-Pierre emphasized, encapsulating the anguish felt by many.
Carole Wembert, a Haitian immigrant who fled Florida after 15 years, mirrors this sentiment. She recalls quitting her job and taking her four children over Roxham Road, driven by a similar fear of deportation, a narrative echoing through the voices of thousands attempting to escape uncertain futures.
A Nation at a Crossroads: Can Canada Cope?
The critical question for both policymakers and the Canadian public is whether Canada can bear this burden. The answer remains uncertain. Housing shortages abound, healthcare systems are strained, and public sentiment—once strongly favorable toward refugees—grows more fragile.
Canada can expect increased scrutiny and protests from groups opposed to extensive immigration, not unlike the resistance seen in 2017. As asylum claims rise, the voices of dissent begin to emerge louder, stating, “We’re against massive immigration,” and calling for stricter border policies.
Advocates for asylum seekers argue against closing doors, suggesting a more nuanced approach that continues to welcome refugees while also implementing practical measures for support and processing. “These are people running for their lives,” insists Frantz André. “We can’t turn them away, but we need a practical plan that includes funding, faster processing, and increased support.”
What’s Next: A Crisis Unfolds
As April 24 draws near—the date marking the loss of TPS for roughly 532,000 migrants—the stakes are precariously high. Should the August deadline for Venezuelans and Haitians follow through, Canada may be confronted with an avalanche of new asylum claims.
The upcoming weeks will shape not only border policy but the broader narrative of what it means to be Canada—the balance between hospitality and the practicalities of managing an unfolding crisis. For now, the RCMP patrols the forests, CBSA processes claims, and migrants like Marie and Jean-Pierre breathe hesitantly, caught in the shadows of Trump’s looming crackdown.
Indeed, as Canada stands on the precipice of an unprecedented immigration challenge, it faces the dual threat of humanitarian responsibility versus logistical limitations. The decisions made in the coming weeks will have lasting implications on Canada’s identity and role on the world stage.
