After watching Alex Garland’s Civil War when it came out last year, I was struck by its haunting portrayal of a nation unravelling under the weight of its own divisions. The film, told through the eyes of journalists documenting the chaos, delves into themes of truth, trauma, and the human cost of political upheaval. What resonated as I look back on the themes in the film is how deeply and eerily the film mirrors the current state of U.S. immigration policies under President Donald Trump’s administration.
In January 2025, President Trump signed Executive Order 14159, titled “Protecting The American People Against Invasion.” This order expanded expedited removal processes, allowing for the deportation of individuals without court hearings, and imposed penalties on undocumented immigrants who failed to register. It also increased the hiring of ICE and CBP agents and restricted access to public benefits for immigrants. These measures have created an environment of fear and uncertainty among immigrant communities—an atmosphere reminiscent of the oppressive conditions depicted in Garland’s dystopian vision.
The deportation of Kilmar Ábrego García, a Maryland resident, to El Salvador under the Alien Enemies Act—even in defiance of a Supreme Court order—reflects a disturbing erosion of the rule of law, a central concern in Civil War. When legal protections are ignored and governmental power goes unchecked, we are reminded how fragile democracy can become in the absence of accountability.
The proposed self-deportation program, offering financial incentives for undocumented immigrants to leave the U.S., raises ethical concerns about coercion and the treatment of vulnerable populations. The administration’s use of Guantanamo Bay to detain migrants and the revocation of protections for sensitive locations like schools and churches for immigration enforcement actions further highlight the aggressive stance taken against non-citizens.
These policies not only impact immigrants but also affect the broader American society. The targeting of legal immigrants, tourists, and students who express dissenting views, including pro-Palestinian activists, reflects a chilling suppression of free speech and civil liberties. Such actions contribute to a climate of fear and division, echoing the societal breakdown portrayed in Civil War.
Garland’s film serves as a prophetic/cautionary tale, illustrating the consequences of unchecked governmental power and the marginalization of vulnerable groups. It challenges viewers to reflect on the current trajectory of policies and their implications for democracy and human rights. As an observer, I am compelled to consider the parallels between fiction and reality and to advocate for policies that uphold justice, compassion, and the rule of law.
As people of faith, we are called to see the face of Christ in every human being, particularly the marginalized and the stranger. Scripture consistently affirms the inherent dignity of every person. Genesis 1:27 proclaims that every human being is created “in the image and likeness of God.” This divine image imbues every person—regardless of citizenship status—with equal worth and sacred value. To mistreat or disregard the dignity of immigrants is, ultimately, to deny this fundamental truth.
Catholic Social Teaching emphasises the moral imperative to protect the vulnerable and uphold the dignity of every person. In Strangers No Longer: Together on the Journey of Hope, the U.S. and Mexican bishops wrote: “We judge ourselves as a community of faith by the way we treat the most vulnerable among us.” Christ Himself was a refugee, fleeing violence in His homeland shortly after birth (Matthew 2:13-15). When we close our doors and harden our hearts to those seeking safety and a better life, we are turning away from Christ in disguise.
Moreover, the targeting of legal immigrants, tourists, and students—especially those who express dissenting views—echoes the suppression of civil liberties depicted in Civil War. This not only threatens the fabric of democracy but erodes our collective moral conscience. The Gospel compels us to “welcome the stranger” (Matthew 25:35) and to defend the oppressed, not to vilify them.
Garland’s film warns of what happens when a society allows fear, division, and power to eclipse truth, mercy, and justice. It challenges us to reflect on our current trajectory—not just politically, but spiritually. Are we building a society rooted in the Beatitudes, where the meek are blessed and the peacemakers are honoured? Or are we allowing fear and suspicion to define our public life?
As a viewer—and more importantly, as a person of faith—I am compelled to consider the profound parallels between fiction and our present reality. Civil War is more than a cinematic experience; it is a mirror reflecting the moral choices of a nation. It urges and confronts some uncomfortable truths and to work for policies that uphold human dignity, foster solidarity, and respect the rule of law.
Civil War is not just a cinematic experience, but a mirror reflecting the pressing issues of our time. It urges us to confront uncomfortable truths and to strive for a society that values every individual’s dignity and rights, regardless of their origin.
Let us pray for a renewal of compassion in our public discourse and for the courage to advocate for an immigration system that reflects the heart of the Gospel: one that protects the vulnerable, welcomes the stranger, and honours the God-given dignity of every person.
Civil War is streaming now with a subscription to Amazon Prime
