A number of Republicans are calling for the removal of U.S. District Judge James Boasberg, accusing him of overstepping the president’s constitutional authority under the 1798 Alien Enemies Act by blocking the deportation of members of a Venezuelan gang.
Texas Representative Brandon Gill, along with several colleagues, has introduced articles of impeachment against Boasberg. They claim he broke his oath by intentionally using his judicial role to pursue political motives, thereby interfering with the president’s powers and the enforcement of the law.
This idea seems far-fetched. There’s simply no concrete evidence that Boasberg knowingly violated his oath, let alone pursued “political gain.” Furthermore, even if the House managed to push through the impeachment articles, it’s unlikely that two-thirds of the Senate would agree to convict. On one hand, this could be seen as mere political theater; on the other, it appears to be a tactic to pressure judges into backing off from scrutinizing Trump’s deportation policies.
This isn’t solely about deportation, though. Several impeachment resolutions have been introduced against more than half a dozen judges who’ve ruled against Trump on various matters.
However, the Boasberg situation is particularly heated and notable.
Let’s quickly recap: the Trump administration deported over 200 individuals, sending them to a prison in El Salvador. The government, without presenting much evidence, claims that most belong to a Venezuelan gang. The president argues that his actions fall under the 1798 Enemy Aliens Act, a part of the notorious Alien and Sedition Acts—an act that remains in effect today.
The 1798 law stipulates that if the U.S. is at war or threatened by a foreign power, the president can issue a proclamation to expel “natives, citizens, denizens, or subjects” of that hostile nation aged 14 and over.
On March 15, Trump declared the Tren de Aragua gang as a foreign terrorist organization allegedly intertwined with the Maduro regime.
I don’t see us as being at war with Venezuela, and the claim that Tren de Aragua acts as an invading force doesn’t convince me—but maybe the administration has stronger evidence than it has shown.
If, hypothetically, the gang fits the Enemy Aliens Act’s criteria, then arresting, imprisoning, or deporting its proven members doesn’t bother me fundamentally.
The crux of the matter is whether a judge can review the president’s decisions under the Enemy Aliens Act, including verifying whether the government is actually deporting the announced individuals. Gill and the Trump administration assert no such review powers exist—branding Boasberg, and others who counter this view, as “rogue judges.”
Interestingly, the most informed defenses of the administration don’t necessarily argue that Trump’s actions are legal or constitutional. Instead, they frame it as a “political question,” suggesting that some issues, especially those related to national security, aren’t suitable for judicial intervention—a view known as the political question doctrine. For instance, although Congress hasn’t formally declared war since WWII, courts haven’t deemed later wars unconstitutional.
I harbor doubts about this political question defense in the current case, though it’s not without merit. If Venezuela or another nation launched an unexpected attack, court interference might hinder our immediate response.
That said, there’s a reason the Enemy Aliens Act has only been wielded—or misused—in times of declared wars. If you’re comfortable with a president—any president—claiming we’re at war with minimal evidence and then beginning deportations or imprisonments, potentially involving American citizens and bypassing due process, I question your commitment to the Constitution and your sense of patriotism.
However, that doesn’t mean the judiciary should automatically step in to halt or validate the president’s actions. That’s Congress’ role.
Congress isn’t obliged to rely on an artifact of legislation criticized by Jefferson and Madison. They could establish new laws, delineate what the president can and cannot do, or even declare war on Venezuela or Tren de Aragua, resolving ambiguity quickly.
In essence, Congress should earnestly assume its responsibilities as the first branch of government.
It’s a severe breach of constitutional duty for lawmakers to criticize judges striving to interpret the Constitution and legal boundaries while heckling from the sidelines. While it’s reasonable to argue that the judiciary sometimes overextends its role as an executive check, I’m thankful for their diligence when Congress decides only to observe—or jeer—from the periphery.
