Like many Venezuelans of his generation, Franco José Caraballo Tiapa is a man of many tattoos.
There is one of a rose, one of a lion, and another – on the left side of the 26-year-old’s neck – of a razor blade that represents his work as a barber.
Two other tattoos pay tribute to Caraballo’s eldest daughter, Shalome: a pocket watch featuring the time of her birth and some black lettering on his chest that spells out the four-year-old’s name.
“He’s just a normal kid … he likes tattoos – that’s it,” said Martin Rosenow, a Florida-based attorney who represents the Venezuelan asylum seeker – one of scores shipped to El Salvador by the Trump administration last weekend as part of his hard-line immigration crackdown.
Caraballo’s fondness for body art may have been his undoing. For when the father of two was detained by US immigration officials in Dallas last month, they appear to have taken those tattoos as proof that he was a member of Venezuela’s most notorious gang, Tren de Aragua.
An official Department of Homeland Security document issued in early February and reviewed by the Guardian states: “[The] subject [Caraballo] has been identified as a Member/Active of Tren de Aragua” although it does not explain how agents reached that conclusion. The same document notes that Caraballo – who it calls a “Deportable/Excludable Alien” – has several tattoos and no known criminal history “at this time”.
Rosenow rejected the idea that the images inked on to his client’s skin indicated gang membership. “It’s specious – there’s no basis [for this conclusion],” he said. “Experts in Venezuela who study the gang have all stated that there are no tattoos that associate gang members. It’s not like the Central American MS-13 gang where tattoos are relevant in their organization.”
“Tren de Agua has no [specific] tattoos,” Rosenow continued. “If you see pictures [of actual Tren de Aragua members arrested in the US], they’re shirtless and many of them don’t even have tattoos.
“I’m nauseated by it all. I’m distressed for these individuals. I’m sad for what this means. As an American, for me it’s disgraceful that we would violate human rights so flagrantly on an international level.”
Caraballo, who hails from the Venezuelan state of Bolívar and entered the US over its southern border in October 2023, is one of several Venezuelans whom immigration officials appear to have identified as gang members based on little more than their nationality and their tattoos.
Daniel Alberto Lozano Camargo
Daniel Alberto Lozano Camargo, a 20-year-old asylum seeker from Maracaibo in western Venezuela, lived in Houston, Texas where he washed cars for a living, advertising his services on Facebook.
His partner, a US citizen called Leslie Aranda, said he was arrested last November after being contacted by a supposed client. She has not heard from him since last Friday, when Donald Trump invoked sweeping wartime powers called the Alien Enemies Act to deport people considered a threat, such as members of Tren de Aragua, which was last month designated a foreign terrorist organization.
Like other Venezuelans who were deported, Lozano has several tattoos, said Aranda, 25. He has the name of his partner’s daughter, Danessy, on one arm. A rose. The name of his niece, Eurimar, with a crown over the letter E. Praying hands on his neck. His father’s name, Adalberto, and his initials. Lozano also has the date of his anniversary with Aranda: 19 January 2023. Another tattoo reads “King of Myself.”
“I know his father’s name is significant to him because he died when Daniel was young. And I also know he didn’t really like the rose tattoo because a friend who was practising did it. Daniel loves art and tattoos – that’s why he has them,” Aranda said.
Lozano’s mother, Daniela, who is also in the US, said: “They violated his human rights – it’s an injustice. He doesn’t belong to any gang.”
Neri José Alvarado Borges
The sister of Neri José Alvarado Borges, another Venezuelan deported to El Salvador, said the 24-year-old also had tattoos that relatives suspect may have led to him being wrongly identified as a criminal.
One says “Family”, another says “Brothers” and a third, on his left thigh, features the name of his younger brother, Neryelson, who is autistic, and the rainbow-colored ribbon of the autism acceptance movement.
“None of these tattoos has anything at all to do with the Tren de Aragua,” said his sister, Lisbengerth Montilla, 20. “But for them [immigration authorities] anyone with a tattoo is connected to Tren de Aragua.”
Montilla said her brother was no gangster. In fact, he was a psychology student who had been forced to abandon his studies and migrate to the US nine months ago because of Venezuela’s economic collapse.
After trekking through the perilous Darién Gap jungle and entering the US, Alvarado, who has no criminal history, built a life in Dallas where he worked in a bakery.
“Many of us have come here because of the situation back in our country,” said Montilla, who also lives in the US. “There were times when we didn’t even have food to eat or have the money to buy anything. Many people fled because of the dictatorship in Venezuela, seeking a better future.
“Not all of those people [deported to El Salvador] are criminals – and not all Venezuelans are bad people. We are from a decent, hard-working and upstanding family. We’ve never had problems with anybody.”
Luis Carlos José Marcano Silva
Luis Carlos José Marcano Silva, a 26-year-old barber from the Venezuelan island of Margarita, was detained at an immigration hearing in Miami last month. His tattoos also seemingly played a role in his detention and deportation to El Salvador.
One, on Marcano’s belly, shows the face of Jesus of Nazareth. Another, on his arm, shows an infinity symbol while a third features the name of his daughter, Adelys. His chest is emblazoned with the image of a crown.
“[At the hearing] all they kept telling him was that he belonged to the Tren de Aragua gang. When his wife contacted the lawyer, they said it was probably because of his tattoos,” said Marcano’s mother, Adelys del Valle Silva Ortega, denying that her son has any links to the crime group or even a criminal record.
“I feel frustrated, desperate. I imagine they are not treating him well. I’ve already seen videos of that prison,” Silva said of the notorious Salvadoran “anti-terrorism” jail where her son is now thought to be incarcerated. “I think of him every moment, praying to the Virgin of the Valley [a Venezuelan patron saint] to protect him.”
Jerce Reyes Barrios
The lawyer for a fifth Venezuelan man deported to El Salvador, a former professional footballer called Jerce Reyes Barrios, 36, has also claimed his tattoos played a role in sealing his fate.
Reyes’s tattoos include one of a crown sitting atop a soccer ball with a rosary and the word “Dios” (God). In a sworn declaration, his California-based attorney, Linette Tobin, said the Department of Homeland Security had alleged this tattoo was proof of gang membership.
“In reality, he chose this tattoo because it is similar to the logo for his favourite soccer team, Real Madrid,” Tobin said in her statement on Wednesday.
Tobin rejected the idea that her client was a gang member and said he had fled Venezuela in early 2024 after being detained at an anti-government demonstration by security forces. Reyes was subsequently “taken to a clandestine building where he was tortured” with electric shocks and suffocation.
Tobin said US immigration officials had reviewed her client’s social media posts and found one in which he made “a hand gesture that they allege is proof of gang membership”.
“In fact, the gesture is a common one that means I Love You in sign language and is commonly used as a rock’n’roll symbol,” Tobin said.
Francisco Javier García Casique
Sebastián García Casique, the brother of a sixth Venezuelan deported to El Salvador, said his sibling, Francisco Javier García Casique, also had tattoos, including of a rose, a compass and a phrase reading: “God chooses his toughest battles for his best warriors.”
A fourth tattoo says: “Vivir el momento” (Live in the Moment). A fifth says in English: “Family”.
In September 2021 García posted an Instagram video of a tattoo of a timepiece being inked on to his right arm by an artist in Peru, where he then lived. “My tattoo in tribute to my two grandmas who I love and miss a lot,” García wrote.
Anyelo Sarabia González
In a sworn declaration, the sister of Anyelo Sarabia González, Solanyer Michell Sarabia González, said her 19-year-old brother had been detained by immigration agents at the start of this year in Dallas and that those agents had asked “about a tattoo that is visible on his hand” showing a rose with money as its petals.
“He had that tattoo done … because he thought it looked cool,” González’s sister said, adding that she believed her brother had been sent to El Salvador “under the false pretence that he was a member of Tren de Aragua”.
“The tattoo has no meaning or connection to any gang,” said González, 25. Two other tattoos on her brother’s body – of the phrases “strength and courage” and “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” – were also not gang-related, she said.
Franco José Caraballo Tiapa
Rosenow also saw no indication that his client – who he said had sought asylum on the basis of political persecution after taking part in opposition protests – was involved in the Venezuelan gang. He said Caraballo’s “cheesy” and romantic Instagram posts indicated he was not “a vicious gang member”.
A Venezuelan criminal background check issued earlier this month indicates Caraballo has no criminal record there. Francisco Javier García Casique’s family has also published evidence that he had no criminal record back home.
The White House has described the Venezuelans deported to El Salvador as “heinous monsters” and terrorists but has yet to release detailed information about their identities, let alone their alleged crimes.
On Thursday afternoon CBS News published an internal government list of the 238 Venezuelan deportees, which included the names of all of the men in this story.
On Monday, a senior official from immigration and customs enforcement, Robert Cerna, admitted that “many” of those removed from the US under the Alien Enemy Act did not have criminal records in the US, but he nevertheless said they were Tren de Aragua members.
The fact that those people did not have a criminal record “is because they have only been in the country for a short period of time”, Cerna said.
Source: theguardian.com
