
“Get up, take the child, and flee… Herod is going to search for the child to kill him” (Mt 2:13)
A deep silence fell when Dominga proclaimed the Prayer of the Faithful during the Mass for mothers at the Our Lady of Fatima chapel of the Daughters of Mary in the batey “La Higuera,” El Seibo. After reading several intentions, she looked up and said: “Let us pray to God for all the mothers of the world, especially our own, and for those who because of migration circumstances, are giving birth at home out of fear of being deported. Despite the difficulties, they are courageous, risking their lives to give life. Let us pray.” At that moment, I felt anger over the ruthless persecution and manhunt against Haitian migrants or their descendants born in Dominican territory, at any hour of the day or night. But I also felt joy because, humbly and bravely, a voice was being raised against such inhumane decrees.
In this context, on 2 June 2025, the event “Solidarity is My Flag” was held, organized by the Collective on Migration and Human Rights. The group urged the Dominican government to immediately halt the deportation of unaccompanied minors, in order to protect their rights and ensure their safety. They also demanded an end to the detention and deportation of pregnant women, mothers with newborns, and elderly people—vulnerable groups who require special humanitarian attention. Furthermore, they called for the removal of immigration agents from healthcare centers, stating that their presence violates universal access to medical care and instills fear in those seeking essential services. One of the most harrowing moments of the event was the repeated denunciation of cases involving physical and sexual abuse, theft, nighttime raids without judicial orders, forced separation of children from their parents, and arbitrary detentions—even of those with legal documentation.
It is striking to compare the vision expressed by Luis Abinader, leader of the Dominican Revolutionary Party, in a speech at the Autonomous University of Santo Domingo on 5 December 2013, in reaction to Constitutional Court ruling TC/0168/13:
“One either defends human dignity or stands against it. Unjust, uncivilized decisions are stripping Dominicans with different faces of their right to nationality. Today, we are here to stand in solidarity with them. I am a descendant of immigrants. My personal story resembles that of many affected people. A civilized country must not tolerate any form of discrimination. The Constitution and the law are on your side. The international agreements signed by the country compel us to respect your rights. You are not alone. Count on me until fear disappears from people’s minds, and we become again the true Dominican Republic: a united and caring nation.”
This contrasts sharply with his presidential address on 6 April 2025, in which he presented 15 measures aimed at controlling Haitian migration. On social media, one can clearly see the stark contrast between these two positions on the human drama of migration.
One of the harshest of these measures was applied in El Seibo. The eleventh measure instructs healthcare workers in the National Health Service (SNS) to request the following from patients: identification, a work letter, and proof of residence. Additionally, services must be paid for. If these requirements are not met, the patient will be treated and then deported immediately upon recovery.
On 17 May 2025, Lourdia Jean Pierre, a 32-year-old pregnant Haitian woman, died in the municipal district of Pedro Sánchez, a victim of fear. Labor pains began at 5:00 a.m., but afraid of being arrested and deported—as many Haitian pregnant women have experienced in public hospitals—she stayed home. There, alone, she gave birth on the floor of her home and died shortly after from hemorrhaging and violent trembling caused by terror. She left two children orphaned. After the delivery, neighbors called 911. Her newborn was taken to Dr. Teófilo Hernández Hospital, but the child’s father was arrested by Immigration with the intent to deport him and the baby. Meanwhile, Lourdia’s body remained on the floor, unattended by a coroner or prosecutor. Eventually, with the help of a few neighbors, a box was found, and she was buried without a wake—as if her life had no worth, as if no one mourned her death.
This cannot be called a “policy,” as it violates human dignity and the universal right to health. Article 61 of the Dominican Constitution states:
“Every person is entitled to comprehensive health. The State shall protect the health of all people, providing the means for the prevention and treatment of all diseases, ensuring access to quality medicines, and offering free medical and hospital care to those in need.”
The 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Article 25, declares:
“Everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, clothing, housing, medical care and necessary social services.”
The United Nations Agenda 2030, approved in 2015, includes as its third goal:
“Ensure healthy lives and promote well-being for all at all ages.”
Herod is still alive, embodied in these actions and laws that defy God’s will—whose desire is for humanity to live—and that contradict the spirit of Jesus of Nazareth, who went around Galilee “proclaiming the good news of the Kingdom and healing every disease and sickness among the people” (Mt 4:23).
Fray Miguel Ángel Gullón Pérez, OP