ICE: new dimensions of the political technologies of terror

U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) is an agency within the U.S. Department of Homeland Security (DHS). Created in 2003 through the merger of the investigative and internal enforcement components of the former U.S. Customs Service and the Immigration and Naturalization Service, ICE operates through four directorates: Homeland Security Investigations (HSI), Enforcement and Removal Operations (ERO), the Office of the Principal Legal Advisor (OPLA), and Management and Administration (M&A).¹

ICE’s requested base budget for 2026 is US$11.3 billion, with roughly 21,808 positions. To this figure must be added the extraordinary reinforcement approved by Congress through H.R. 1 (House Resolution/Bill No. 1), known as the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, the major legislative package signed by Trump in July 2025 that significantly expanded resources for deportation and immigration detention policy. In ICE’s case, the package added US$75 billion over four years, raising the agency to a new financial level and consolidating it as the best-funded federal law-enforcement agency in the United States. Of that amount, US$45 billion was earmarked for expanding detention capacity for single adults and family residential centers, while US$29.85 billion was reserved for hiring and training personnel, retention and recruitment bonuses, transportation for removal operations, information technology, fleet modernization, facility improvements, and the strengthening of the agency’s legal structure.² These financial and political investments consolidate ICE as an expanded national infrastructure of kidnapping, detention, and deportation.

Material expansion of the state kidnapping machine

Recent data show that approximately 68,000 people are currently being held in detention centers administered by ICE. The goal is to expand detention capacity to 92,600 beds by the end of November.³ The logic is, of course, to arrest and deport more people, but it is also claimed that the expansion would allow the agency to avoid overcrowding and provide detention standards and services.⁴

Accordingly, the number of permanent facilities used exclusively by ICE is being significantly expanded. This year alone, the agency acquired ten new warehouses in states such as Arizona, Georgia, Maryland, Michigan, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Texas, at a cost exceeding US$890 million.⁵

The installation of these detention centers tends to profoundly affect the cities that receive them, not only because they introduce a new infrastructure of confinement, but because they place pressure on local water, sewage, energy, transportation, health, and public-security systems, often without prior public planning or meaningful consultation with communities.

Detention center in Social Circle, Georgia, recently purchased by DHS.

Source: NGO, Madeleine; ALEAZIZ, Hamed; MCCANN, Allison. “As ICE Buys Up Warehouses, Even Some Trump Voters Say No.” The New York Times, New York, Feb. 18, 2026. Available at: https://www.nytimes.com/2026/02/18/us/politics/ice-warehouses-trump-voters.html.

ICE’s own expansion materials show that the agency intends to convert industrial warehouses into facilities capable of holding between 1,500 and 10,000 people at a time, including in small localities such as Williamsport, Maryland, with roughly 2,000 inhabitants, and Social Circle, Georgia, whose local administration has already stated that it does not know how it would absorb the additional demand on water and sewage systems. At the same time, residents and local authorities have raised fiscal, urbanistic, and humanitarian concerns: loss of tax revenue, impact on businesses and schools, risk of protests, use of industrial properties unfit for human habitation, and difficulty in rapidly adapting these spaces to minimum detention standards.⁶

More than merely physically expanding the capacity for confinement, this expansion territorializes deportation policy and inscribes it into the daily life of cities and local infrastructures. These warehouses, however, are not merely repositories for people, but material nodes in a broad dispositif of capture, screening, and removal whose effectiveness also depends on ICE’s informational and technological expansion. What we are seeing is a combination of older works aimed at expanding mass incarceration – a hallmark of U.S. governments since the late 1980s – with a broad dispositif of monitoring technologies and target-selection mechanisms that, beyond existing capacities, further expand the logistical reach of the U.S. state kidnapping machine. In light of ICE’s investments and enormous infrastructural and human logistics, El Salvador’s CECOT (Terrorism Confinement Center) starts to look like Bukele’s LEGO toy.

Informational and technological expansion

Last April, the acting director of Immigration and Customs Enforcement promised to run the agency with the “ruthless efficiency of Amazon.” Mass deportations, he said, should be “like Prime, but with human beings.”⁷ The political and economic positivities and productivities of this project are so evident that they require no analysis; they have already been openly declared by their executors.

In an annual report⁸ released in February of this year, DHS stated that ICE had significantly expanded the operational scope of its use of facial recognition, artificial intelligence (AI), and other advanced technologies. Among these tools, the most prominent facial-recognition application on mobile phones is Mobile Fortify, which, according to ICE, makes it possible to accurately determine a person’s immigration status. The application, produced by the technology/biometrics company NEC (Nippon Electric Company), enables ICE agents to immediately compare, in the field, facial scans and fingerprints obtained by phone against databases containing immigration-status information and other biographical data.⁹ In the fall, ICE also acquired a mobile iris-scanning application manufactured by BI2 Technologies, which, according to the company,¹⁰ can obtain an identifying scan of a person’s eye in seconds from a distance of 15 inches. Still within the field of facial recognition, a January 2025 DHS report¹¹ stated that ICE’s use of Clearview AI’s system was restricted to investigations of child sexual exploitation and abuse. However, when ICE signed a new US$3.75 million contract with the company in September, it indicated in the procurement record that the tool would also be used to investigate “assaults against law-enforcement officers.”¹²

With regard to license-plate readers, ICE uses systems from Motorola Solutions and Thomson Reuters. These devices employ high-speed cameras to photograph vehicles and store the data in commercial or governmental databases. This allows agents to recover a vehicle’s movement history or search for all cars present in a given area over a specified period, narrowing the search by color, make, or state of registration. ICE ordered mobile license-plate readers from Motorola Solutions in the fall and renewed its contract with Thomson Reuters’s database, which claims to contain more than 20 billion plate reads, including records from private surveillance cameras. According to Thomson Reuters itself,¹³ these data can indicate, for example, when an individual registered at one address regularly parks their car somewhere else. ICE also accesses other systems indirectly. After controversy erupted over its access to Flock Safety license-plate readers owned by local police departments, the company stated in August that it had “paused” a “limited pilot project” with ICE’s Homeland Security Investigations unit. Even so, records obtained by news organizations indicate that ICE continued to access Flock Safety data by requesting searches from allied local police departments.

In the area of cellphone location tracking, ICE uses L3Harris cell-site simulators, also known as Stingrays. These devices masquerade as cell towers and induce nearby phones to connect to them, allowing agents to track a device’s location in real time. Frequently installed on top of vehicles, the simulators can be used in two ways: to search for a specific phone, when agents already know its identifying number, or to scan all cellphones present in a given area.¹⁴ ICE’s guidelines require agents to obtain a judicial warrant before using such a device, although they provide for “emergency exceptions,”¹⁵ such as “the need to protect human life or avert serious injury,” being in “hot pursuit of a fleeing felon,” or “preventing the escape from justice of a suspect or convicted felon.” In addition, there are reports of the use of Webloc, a tool associated with Penlink, which would allow agents to identify specific phones, conduct geofencing, and track their movements without a warrant, using data purchased from commercial brokers.¹⁶

ICE also possesses a vast set of digital-forensics devices, including those from Paragon Solutions, Cellebrite, and Finaldata. These technologies make it possible to penetrate locked phones and computers, recover deleted files, and read information contained in encrypted conversations.¹⁷ Traditionally, these devices were reserved for investigations involving “terrorism,” “child trafficking,” and other “serious transnational crimes.” During Trump’s second administration, however, agency leadership directed these investigative resources toward the deportation campaign. As part of its purchasing spree last year, ICE signed contracts with the Israeli company Paragon Solutions, developer of the Graphite spyware, capable of remotely compromising phones and accessing data and encrypted applications, and with Cellebrite, whose forensic solutions enable the extraction of data from locked devices and the automatic organization of the material obtained for analysis.¹⁸ The agency also acquired FINALMobile Forensics, from Finaldata, along with other similar software aimed at the recovery and analysis of deleted data on mobile devices.¹⁹

In the field of drones, ICE uses equipment from Skydio and General Atomics. These devices have become an increasingly common part of federal law-enforcement field operations, transmitting aerial video in real time to a base. One of the compact models acquired by ICE, the Skydio X10D, is advertised as capable of detecting individuals from 1 km away and identifying them from 0.8 miles away, in addition to featuring night vision and thermal cameras.²⁰ ICE has been using small drones to monitor protests over the past year. Its sister agency, U.S. Customs and Border Protection, also operated a military-grade MQ-9 Predator over anti-ICE protests in Los Angeles in June 2025.²¹

More than simply modernizing procedures, this arsenal expands ICE’s capacity not only to pursue those who have already been defined as targets, but also to expand the means through which targets are produced, tracked, and neutralized – a dynamic that affects not only immigrants, but also those who resist.

Criminalization and reclassification of dissent

On the night of July 4, 2025, about a dozen people arrived at the Prairieland ICE detention center in Alvarado, Texas, for an event they would later describe as a “noise demonstration”. They were dressed in black and carried candles, first-aid kits, bubbles, a megaphone, and a flag reading “Resist fascism, fight oligarchy.” From a distance of at least fifty meters, the group launched fireworks into the air and broadcast messages of encouragement in Spanish through the megaphone. A young man, whom no one in the group had known before, brought spray paint. Someone wrote “fuck you pigs” on a guard shack; someone else slashed the tires of an ICE van. An officer from the Alvarado Police Department arrived at the scene, exited his vehicle, and drew his weapon. One of the demonstrators shouted: “Get to the rifles.”²²

In the aftermath, law-enforcement agents searched the cars and apartments of people linked to the group, as well as a house affectionately nicknamed the Big Gay House, where some of them lived. They seized weapons, body armor, and a printing press. They photographed a sweatshirt bearing the phrase “chinga la migra” (“fuck immigration police”), stickers reading “be gay do crime,” and a drawing of Trump with a swastika. They also investigated the Emma Goldman²³ Book Club, an anarchist reading group in which several of the defendants participated. Police also stopped Daniel Sanchez Estrada – the partner of one of the people involved in the action, who had not been at Prairieland that night – on suspicion that he had removed a box of explosives from her house. The box turned out to be full of zines and an old love letter. Sanchez Estrada was charged with conspiracy and concealment of evidence; he too was found guilty. Although none of these publications was ilegal – nor were the weapons, as defense attorneys noted – the government sought to transform them into evidence of a “shared ideology” and, more than that, proof of belonging to a broader political threat.

Initially, the people present at Prairieland that night were charged with attempted murder. But the legal framing of the case changed decisively in September, after the death of Charlie Kirk, when the Trump administration intensified its offensive against what it called the “enemy within.”²⁴ It was in this context that the White House issued an executive order designating “Antifa” as a domestic terrorist organization and a presidential memorandum authorizing the use of federal law-enforcement forces to pursue its members.²⁵ In the presidential memorandum, Trump characterized the “common threads” of antifascism as “anti-Americanism, anti-capitalism, and anti-Christianity; support for the overthrow of the United States Government; extremism on questions of migration, race, and gender; and hostility toward those who hold traditional American views on family, religion, and morality.”²⁶ The memorandum was advised by Kyle Shideler, director and senior analyst at the Center for Security Policy, who presents himself as an expert on radical Islamism and “Black identity extremism,” and who also devotes himself to “Antifa.”²⁷

In November, prosecutors issued a new indictment referring to the Prairieland defendants as “operatives” of a “North Texas Antifa Cell” and adding the charge of providing material support to terrorists.²⁸ In March, they were convicted by a federal jury in Fort Worth, Texas, “for their roles in rioting, use of weapons and explosives, provision of material support to terrorists, obstruction, and attempted murder.”²⁹ According to the FBI director, the verdict shows that “the FBI remains committed to identifying, locating, and dismantling Antifa and its funding networks across the country,” and that it will continue working to “protect communities across the country from domestic terrorism.”³⁰

If, in the case of so-called “Antifa,” the Trump administration attempted to transform a diffuse political label into a national-security category, in the killings of Renee Good and Alex Pretti – people directly involved in community resistance to ICE operations in Minneapolis – “domestic terrorism” operated in a different way: less as a consolidated criminal category than as an immediate device for legitimating state violence. In Renee Good’s case, DHS Secretary Kristi Noem claimed, only a few hours after Good’s death, that she had used her car as a weapon and committed an act of domestic terrorism; that narrative was mobilized to sustain the agent’s self-defense claim.³¹ In Alex Pretti’s case, the dynamic was even more explicit. Stephen Miller called him a domestic terrorist and a “would-be assassin,” while DHS’s initial narrative suggested that he had approached while armed with the intention of causing major harm.³² In reality, Pretti was holding a cellphone, and the gun he had been carrying had been removed from his waistband shortly before the shots that killed him.³³

Police collaboration and integration

ICE’s expansion is not supported only by the purchase of new technologies or the enlargement of its material detention capacity. It depends decisively on the articulation among different agencies, scales, and state infrastructures, which transform dispersed data, administrative routines, and local custody arrangements into a device of capture and deportation. Technology, then, is not limited to electronic surveillance tools; rather, it operates as a policy that connects federal agencies, state authorities, local jails, administrative databases, and private information systems within a single operational architecture, supported by an expanded capacity for the circulation of information and people. In this way, it becomes a political technology that expands the monitoring apparatus while operating within the legal elasticity of the so-called greatest democracy on the planet. For that reason, attributing its growth and expansion solely to the Trump administration, as though it were an exceptional feature of autocracy, is an analytical limitation that ignores the variation of these forms of logistical and environmental control spread throughout the world, to a greater or lesser degree, with more or less technological apparatus – from El Salvador’s CECOT to predictive-policing arrangements in Brazil, whether Rio’s Sentinela Carioca or São Paulo’s Muralha Paulista. Beyond the false opposition between autocracy and democratic institutions, what advances is what we at LASInTec characterize as securitarian democracies.

This process did not begin with the current offensive. As researchers at Georgetown University Law Center showed in the report American Dragnet³⁴, ICE had already spent US$2.8 billion on the expansion of surveillance capacities between 2008 and 2021, with a strong concentration in geolocation. By 2022, the agency had already scanned the driver’s-license photos of roughly one-third of the U.S. adult population, making it possible to track people’s movements in cities where most of the population lives, and it was able to locate people through public-utility records. The recent leap, however, lies not only in the volume of available data, but in the growing governmental emphasis on “interoperability,” the integration of databases, and the elimination of so-called “information silos,” making data more easily circulated among agencies and levels of government.

The program revealed between the Transportation Security Administration (TSA) and ICE is one example of how this system operates. Under it, information on airline passengers began to be compared with lists of individuals holding final orders of removal, allowing potential matches to be flagged to ICE for detention at airports.³⁵ The operation also involved the Pacific Enforcement Response Center, an office based in California that centralizes alerts, distributes actionable leads to immigration agents in different parts of the country, and coordinates requests to local jails to keep people in custody.³⁶

Likewise, cooperation between ICE and local jails, prisons, and public-security agencies shows that mass deportation depends on territorial capillarity and decentralized collaboration. In Minnesota, although the government accused the state of insufficient cooperation, federal data themselves indicate that roughly 30% of the people detained by ICE in the state were turned over by local jails and prisons; about 50 county jails and local agencies transferred detainees to ICE over the last year, and more than 600 people have been sent into immigration custody since the beginning of Trump’s second term.³⁷ Nationally, approximately half of ICE arrests involved people transferred from federal, state, or local custody. This reveals that deportation depends not only on highly visible street operations, but also on a less spectacular administrative flow geared toward the regularization of violence.

Political protection of violence

The agreements between DHS and companies such as Palantir are not merely about the provision of technical tools, but about the growing centrality of Big Tech in defining the very contours of national security and violence. In March of this year, Microsoft entered as amicus curiae in support of Anthropic in its lawsuit against the Department of Defense, after the latter classified the company as a supply-chain risk and blocked the use of its systems in federal agencies.³⁸ The litigation arose after Anthropic refused to expand the military uses of its Claude AI model, which had already been employed, through platforms such as Palantir’s, to process large volumes of data and identify possible targets from satellite imagery and other sources.

In this context, the GenAI.mil platform, launched by the Department of Defense in December 2025, was designed to provide access to AI models to more than three million members of the Armed Forces and civilian personnel of the Department of Defense, already integrating tools from Google and xAI, with OpenAI also expected to be incorporated.³⁹

It is important to stress that the militarization of technologies and AI is not new, nor does it begin with the current rush by Big Tech to sell models to U.S. security systems. A major turning point in the militarization of space technologies occurred with the Gulf War (1990–1991), which consolidated a mode of warfare increasingly dependent on satellites, instantaneous communication, continuous monitoring, and precision geolocation. It was in this conflict that GPS (Global Positioning System) debuted as a decisive military infrastructure, enabling troops, aircraft, ships, and weapons to be guided with unprecedented precision, while also reinforcing the image of supposedly rational and “surgical” violence.⁴⁰ More than introducing a new tool, the Gulf War helped sediment a new military rationality in which the capacity to locate, track, integrate data, and correct actions in real time became central to the regulation and distribution of violence. Since then, the idea has become consolidated that strategic advantage depends less and less on brute force and more and more on the ability to collect, process, and operationalize massive volumes of information.

What we are seeing today is a qualitative acceleration of this process: with the coupling of Big Tech and the state, AI ceases to be merely an auxiliary analytical tool and becomes directly inserted into target selection, threat triage, the automation of decisions, and the regulation and distribution of violence. At this new stage, the militarization of AI does not simply mean the use of more sophisticated technologies in security operations, but the incorporation of private and opaque infrastructures into the very core of lethal decision-making.

Already in the mid-2010s, in analyzing drone warfare and the centrality of surveillance devices, Chamayou⁴¹ pointed to a transformation in the rationality and grammar of war itself, whereby surveillance becomes the condition of annihilation, and the identification of patterns of life, ties, and behaviors begins to feed chains of target selection in which tracking, suspicion, and elimination are combined. In this sense, violence no longer depends solely on the nominative identification of an enemy, but also on the production of behavioral “signatures,” the mapping of connections, and the interpretation of life patterns that make it possible to pursue, classify, and neutralize individuals at a distance.

Complementing the recent cycle of ICE’s material, technological, and political expansion is the combination of juridical exceptionalism and the practical normalization of state illegality. In Minnesota, where the immigration offensive assumed brutal contours, a federal judge stated that ICE had violated nearly 100 judicial orders in just a few weeks and had disobeyed, in January alone, more directives than “some federal agencies have violated in their entire existence.”⁴² In warning that “ICE is not a law unto itself,” Judge Patrick Schiltz made explicit the authorization for the suspension of legal limits, procedural guarantees, and judicial decisions.⁴³

This denunciation reveals not a policy of exception, but rather the fundamental way policing operates – or, more broadly, the operation of security forces – since they are not a mere extension of judicial power and apparatuses, but possess their own rationality and arbitrariness in defining, knowing, and shaping their targets. Once again, this demonstrates the centrality of police power and its elastic expansion within contemporary securitarian democracies.

In this same sense, it is important to recognize policies of selection and imprisonment as part of a political economy involving their targets, unlike what is suggested by scholars who emphasize the economic profits of such policies in attempting to fit ICE’s expansion into the theory of the Prison-Industrial Complex.⁴⁴ These scholars argue that the expansion of ICE’s tracking, imprisonment, and removal policies will be operated by private companies and long-term detention and surveillance contracts that will create “strong economic and political interests” that are difficult to dismantle.

However, the hypothesis that the expansion of the repressive apparatus is explained mainly by the pursuit of profit faces evident limits – for example, by the simple fact that the precarious and subordinated exploitation of immigrant labor power is, and continues to be, more advantageous than imprisonment or removal. In this sense, ICE’s intensification should be understood less as the simple effect of an expanding prison market and more as the expression of a project of intensified political terror and state racism.

For that reason, we insist that what is most troubling in the expansion of these machines of state kidnapping lies in what they reveal about the ordinary workings of politics and contemporary democracies: before extracting profits, capitalism and the state require conquest and domination. Without breaking with this state-centeredness – with the state as a category of understanding, with its police forces and its technologies of government – what remains is merely an improvement of the machine. It is no coincidence that the decree against Antifa first struck nine anarchists in the Prairieland case.

References

¹ UNITED STATES. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Who We Are. Washington, DC: ICE, 24 fev. 2026.

² UNITED STATES. Department of Homeland Security. U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement: Congressional Budget Justification, Fiscal Year 2026. Washington, DC: DHS, 2025.

³ UNITED STATES. Congress. House. H.R. 1 – One Big Beautiful Bill Act. 119th Congress (2025–2026). Washington, DC: Congress.gov, 2025.

⁴ NEW HAMPSHIRE (Estado). Office of the Governor. ICE Detention Reengineering Initiative. Concord, NH, 12 fev. 2026.

⁵ NGO, Madeleine; ALEAZIZ, Hamed; MCCANN, Allison. As ICE Buys Up Warehouses, Even Some Trump Voters Say No. The New York Times, 18 fev. 2026.

⁶ O'CONNELL, Jonathan; MACMILLAN, Douglas. DHS feeds talking points to Republicans as opposition to ICE warehouses swells. The Washington Post, 7 mar. 2026.

⁷ HALPERT, Madeline. ICE wanted to build a detention centre - this small farming town said no. BBC News, [S.l.], 4 abr. 2026.

⁸ WALLACE-WELLS, David. ICE’s Surveillance State Isn’t Tracking Only Immigrants. The New York Times, 4 fev. 2026.

⁹ UNITED STATES. Department of Homeland Security. AI Use Case Inventory Library. Washington, DC: DHS, 2023.

¹⁰ DOU, Eva; GALOCHA, Artur; SCHAUL, Kevin. The powerful tools in ICE’s arsenal to track suspects — and protesters. The Washington Post, 29 jan. 2026.

¹¹ DOU, Eva; GALOCHA, Artur; SCHAUL, Kevin, 29 jan. 2026, op. cit.

¹² BI2 TECHNOLOGIES TEAM. Richland County Sheriff’s Office first in Ohio to use biometric iris scanning technology. BI2 Technologies, 13 dez. 2018.

¹³ UNITED STATES. Department of Homeland Security. Artificial Intelligence Use Case Inventory. Washington, DC: DHS, 28 jan. 2026.

¹⁴ WALLACE-WELLS, 2026, op. cit.

¹⁵ THOMSON REUTERS. Leveraging technology for accurate residency verification. Thomson Reuters, 4 set. 2025.

¹⁶ WALLACE-WELLS, 2026, op. cit.

¹⁷ UNITED STATES. Department of Homeland Security. Office of Inspector General. Secret Service and ICE Did Not Always Adhere to Statute and Policies Governing Use of Cell-Site Simulators – Law Enforcement Sensitive (Redacted). Washington, DC: DHS OIG, 23 fev. 2023.

¹⁸ WALLACE-WELLS, 2026, op. cit.

¹⁹ Idem.

²⁰ KIRCHGAESSNER, Stephanie. Ice obtains access to Israeli-made spyware that can hack phones and encrypted apps. The Guardian, 2 set. 2025.

²¹ CELLEBRITE. Cellebrite Inseyets | All-in-One Mobile Forensics Suite. Cellebrite, [s.d.].

²² WALLACE-WELLS, 2026, op. cit.

²³ SKYDIO. Skydio X10D. [S.l.]: Skydio, [s.d.].

²⁴ LOS ANGELES TIMES. Predator drones shift from border patrol to protest surveillance. Los Angeles Times, 22 set. 2025.

²⁵ THE GUARDIAN. Inside DoJ’s controversial prosecution of a Texas “antifa” case. The Guardian, 19 dez. 2025.

²⁶ Emma Goldman (1869–1940) was an anarchist born in the Russian Empire and based in the United States, founder of the magazine Mother Earth and considered the most dangerous woman in America for her scathing critiques of marriage, the State, capitalism, and prisons, and for her activism in favor of birth control and antimilitarism.

²⁷ MONROE, Rachel. How the Trump Administration Has Turned Left-Wing Activism Into Terrorism. The New Yorker, 26 mar. 2026.

²⁸ Idem.

²⁹ UNITED STATES. Executive Office of the President. Designating Antifa as a Domestic Terrorist Organization. The White House, 22 set. 2025.

³⁰ UNITED STATES. Department of Justice. Office of Public Affairs. Antifa Cell Members Convicted in Prairieland ICE Detention Center Shooting. 13 mar. 2026.

³¹ Idem.

³² REUTERS. US immigration agent fatally shoots woman in Minneapolis, mayor disputes government claim of self-defense. Reuters, 8 jan. 2026.

³³ HESSON, Ted. US review of Alex Pretti killing does not mention him brandishing firearm. Reuters, 29 jan. 2026. Atualizado em: 30 jan. 2026.

³⁴ GEORGETOWN LAW. Center on Privacy & Technology. American Dragnet: Data-Driven Deportation in the 21st Century. Washington, DC, 10 maio 2022. Atualizado em maio 2025 com novo prefácio.

³⁵ ALEAZIZ, Hamed. T.S.A. Is Providing Air Passenger Data to Immigration Agents for Deportation Effort. The New York Times, New York, 12 dez. 2025.

³⁶ Idem.

³⁷ SUN, Albert. Map: Where ICE Has Had Access to Minnesota Jails and Prisons. The New York Times, New York, 29 jan. 2026.

³⁸ THE NEW YORK TIMES. Anthropic, Defense Department and Artificial Intelligence Lawsuit. The New York Times, New York, 9 mar. 2026.

³⁹ WAR DEPARTMENT. The War Department unleashes AI on new GenAI.mil platform. Washington, D.C., 9 dez. 2025.

⁴⁰ SIQUEIRA, Leandro Alberto de Paiva. Ecopolítica: derivas do espaço sideral. 2015. Tese (Doutorado em Ciências Sociais) – Pontifícia Universidade Católica de São Paulo, São Paulo, 2015.

⁴¹ CHAMAYOU, Grégoire. Teoria do drone. Tradução de Célia Euvaldo. São Paulo: Cosac Naify, 2015.

⁴² FEUER, Alan. Judge in Minnesota Says ICE Has Violated Nearly 100 Court Orders. The New York Times, New York, 28 jan. 2026.

⁴³ Idem.

⁴⁴ O’HERRON, Margy. Big Budget Act Creates a “Deportation-Industrial Complex”. Brennan Center for Justice, 13 ago. 2025.