"We Don’t Want Them": Trump Slams Door on Migrants from Dozens of Countries

Paul Riverbank, 12/2/2025Trump’s immigration crackdown targets dozens of countries, sparking fierce debate over security and American values.

The new policy unfurled in the aftermath of a horrifying attack in Washington, D.C.—an incident that left two National Guard members dead and reignited a familiar debate about security and borders. The alleged perpetrator, Rahmanullah Lakanwal, originally from Afghanistan, had arrived in the country just three years prior. For critics of current immigration policies, the episode underscored what they see as systemic flaws. President Trump seized the moment, declaring, “Many of them are no good, and they shouldn’t be in our country,” his tone moving quickly from solemn to combative.

In a sweeping declaration, the president named Afghanistan, Somalia, Iran, Libya, Sudan, Yemen and several others as sources of instability, painting a grim portrait of nations lacking in basic governance. “Countries like Somalia that have virtually no government, no military, no police—all they do is go around killing each other,” Trump asserted, glancing at his prepared notes before locking eyes with the assembled journalists. An awkward silence lingered after he asked, pointedly, “We don’t want those people, do you understand that?”

Supporters of the administration’s stance rallied behind the new directives, saying decisive action is necessary to restore order to the U.S. immigration system and keep Americans safe. They point to incidents like the D.C. attack as evidence that open doors can come with high costs. On the other side, advocates for immigrant rights warn that such policies trade nuance for blunt force, potentially trampling civil liberties and undermining due process.

Trump didn’t stop at newly arrived asylum seekers. He trained his rhetoric on Temporary Protected Status, highlighting, as he often does, cases still under investigation. In Minnesota, rumors and allegations of fraud among Somali TPS recipients have become a sticking point. The president waded into the controversy by invoking Rep. Ilhan Omar, repeating contentious claims about her immigration background. "If true," he insisted, "she should be thrown the hell out of our country." Omar has steadfastly denied these accusations, but that hasn’t stopped them from echoing across social media.

Perhaps most startling was the president’s willingness to broach the subject of denaturalization—a legal process long considered a last resort. Trump mused over the possibility of removing U.S. citizenship from individuals found guilty of wrongdoing or who, in his words, “gained status through weak screening.” He left more questions than answers regarding whether he actually possesses the authority to act in this way, musing aloud to the press, “If I have the power to do it—I’m not sure that I do, but if I do—I would denaturalize, absolutely.”

The escalation continued on Thanksgiving, as Trump took to his social platform with pledges to “permanently pause migration from all Third World Countries” and to root out what he called “millions of Biden illegal admissions”—referring, disparagingly, to executive actions signed by President Biden, including those authorized via autopen. “Remove anyone who is not a net asset to the United States, or is incapable of loving our Country,” he posted. The statement concluded with a call to end federal benefits to noncitizens, strip citizenship from migrants who “undermine domestic tranquility,” and expel anyone deemed a “public charge” or “non-compatible with Western Civilization.”

For those overseas hoping one day to begin anew in the United States, the path has never seemed less certain. It’s a defining pivot point for U.S. immigration policy—one that has reshuffled the hopes of thousands overnight. Whether these measures genuinely deliver more security, or merely stoke deeper divisions, remains an open question. What is clear, for now, is that the pause is not just temporary. It represents a more entrenched, and potentially lasting, change in how America defines who gets to call it home.

On a brisk afternoon above the clouds, President Trump made headlines in a setting he seems to favor: aboard Air Force One, surrounded by a frenzied scrum of reporters. His message, however, was anything but ambiguous. In unmistakable language, Trump described a sweeping halt to immigration from more than a dozen countries he labeled either “out of control” or insufficiently friendly to the United States. “No time limit, but it could be a long time,” he said, sidestepping efforts to pin him down on when, or if, such restrictions might lift.The new policy unfurled in the aftermath of a horrifying attack in Washington, D.C.—an incident that left two National Guard members dead and reignited a familiar debate about security and borders. The alleged perpetrator, Rahmanullah Lakanwal, originally from Afghanistan, had arrived in the country just three years prior. For critics of current immigration policies, the episode underscored what they see as systemic flaws. President Trump seized the moment, declaring, “Many of them are no good, and they shouldn’t be in our country,” his tone moving quickly from solemn to combative.In a sweeping declaration, the president named Afghanistan, Somalia, Iran, Libya, Sudan, Yemen and several others as sources of instability, painting a grim portrait of nations lacking in basic governance. “Countries like Somalia that have virtually no government, no military, no police—all they do is go around killing each other,” Trump asserted, glancing at his prepared notes before locking eyes with the assembled journalists. An awkward silence lingered after he asked, pointedly, “We don’t want those people, do you understand that?”Supporters of the administration’s stance rallied behind the new directives, saying decisive action is necessary to restore order to the U.S. immigration system and keep Americans safe. They point to incidents like the D.C. attack as evidence that open doors can come with high costs. On the other side, advocates for immigrant rights warn that such policies trade nuance for blunt force, potentially trampling civil liberties and undermining due process.Trump didn’t stop at newly arrived asylum seekers. He trained his rhetoric on Temporary Protected Status, highlighting, as he often does, cases still under investigation. In Minnesota, rumors and allegations of fraud among Somali TPS recipients have become a sticking point. The president waded into the controversy by invoking Rep. Ilhan Omar, repeating contentious claims about her immigration background. "If true," he insisted, "she should be thrown the hell out of our country." Omar has steadfastly denied these accusations, but that hasn’t stopped them from echoing across social media.Perhaps most startling was the president’s willingness to broach the subject of denaturalization—a legal process long considered a last resort. Trump mused over the possibility of removing U.S. citizenship from individuals found guilty of wrongdoing or who, in his words, “gained status through weak screening.” He left more questions than answers regarding whether he actually possesses the authority to act in this way, musing aloud to the press, “If I have the power to do it—I’m not sure that I do, but if I do—I would denaturalize, absolutely.”The escalation continued on Thanksgiving, as Trump took to his social platform with pledges to “permanently pause migration from all Third World Countries” and to root out what he called “millions of Biden illegal admissions”—referring, disparagingly, to executive actions signed by President Biden, including those authorized via autopen. “Remove anyone who is not a net asset to the United States, or is incapable of loving our Country,” he posted. The statement concluded with a call to end federal benefits to noncitizens, strip citizenship from migrants who “undermine domestic tranquility,” and expel anyone deemed a “public charge” or “non-compatible with Western Civilization.”For those overseas hoping one day to begin anew in the United States, the path has never seemed less certain. It’s a defining pivot point for U.S. immigration policy—one that has reshuffled the hopes of thousands overnight. Whether these measures genuinely deliver more security, or merely stoke deeper divisions, remains an open question. What is clear, for now, is that the pause is not just temporary. It represents a more entrenched, and potentially lasting, change in how America defines who gets to call it home.