Commentary: Civil servants should refuse to implement cruel policies, even if it costs them

Last year, President Donald Trump's administration began negotiating agreements with African countries to dump America's deportees at their doors, regardless of their country of origin. Trump officials were frustrated with obstacles to mass deportation and saw these deals as one way to speed up.

Given this administration's affinity for casual cruelty, I'm not surprised that this is happening, but I am deeply disappointed that career diplomats are facilitating it. These acts violate U.S. law, international law and basic morality. It brings up a question civil servants face every day under an increasingly abusive administration: Should you stay or should you go?

Many of these countries are well known for horrific human rights abuses, lack of justice and abysmal detention conditions. Some are at war. The U.S. government considers three - South Sudan, Democratic Republic of Congo and the Central African Republic (CAR) - so dangerous that they have the worst possible travel advisory, "Level Four: Do Not Travel." This month, the administration sent about 20 migrants to CAR, including a pro-democracy activist from Iran who had been granted legal protection by a U.S. immigration court. Men from Cuba, Myanmar and Laos who were deported to South Sudan in May 2025 remain in detention there today. I saw detention conditions in South Sudan firsthand as a U.S. diplomat and can attest that no moral country would willfully condemn anyone to such a fate.

To me, this is a clear case of when a civil servant should say no. If your job requires you to facilitate or negotiate these agreements and the renditions they cause, you should refuse and, if necessary, resign. This applies to the leadership and staff involved in executing these acts at U.S. embassies abroad and for anyone else being told to implement immoral and illegal policies on this administration's behalf.

I know this is a tall order. I made a similar decision to leave my government career during the first Trump administration, so I know what it means to do so. I loved being a Foreign Service officer. It was challenging, meaningful, fulfilling work. I thought I would be a diplomat until I retired.

But when Trump was elected in 2016, I knew his agenda would shape my work. I was a diplomat in Mogadishu, Somalia, at the time. Trump had already maligned the people of that country while on the campaign trail, and his promise of a Muslim travel ban would hit Somalia too. I wasn't at a mission where just keeping my head down was an option. As a civil servant, my duty was to apolitically represent the U.S. national interest and the American people, regardless of who was in charge. But I knew implementing Trump's agenda may be incompatible with that. I knew where my loyalty had to be.

I decided then to identify my red lines. What would I refuse to do? What would I quit my career for? From crises and war zones, I knew it would be far better to think through those questions in advance rather than wait until controversial decision points were staring me in the face. Humans can adapt to a lot of things, after all, including the slow degradation of their moral standards. I didn't want to unwittingly grow a tolerance for terrible acts.

I decided that I would refuse to break the law. I would not contribute to human rights abuses or do anything that could undermine U.S. national security. And I would quit when I no longer felt I could do more good than harm in my position.

Many other civil servants have thought through this process themselves. Some have stayed, some have changed positions, and some have quit or retired. How each person navigates it depends on their situation. My bar was relatively low. I had no debt, no children to support and no health conditions that made losing work-based healthcare excessively burdensome. I wasn't so close to retirement that I would leave a big investment on the table. People who face these issues may have a different cost-benefit analysis. That is why I have refrained thus far from criticizing those who still serve this government.

But it is becoming harder for those on the inside to avoid doing Trump's dirty work. Some civil servants may still be able to protect some small part of the work they dedicated their lives to. But that is less feasible today than during Trump's first term, since he has replaced all executive branch leadership with dishonest sycophants and dismantled the checks on his power. Whistleblowers previously could go to Congress or inspectors general for oversight, but those tools have been neutered. Experienced civil servants before could throw sand in the gears to delay bad policies, but Trump's team has wised up to that game.

This is why I sometimes wonder what career civil servants are thinking. I expect even many thoughtful ones just don't see the imperative. They are not making policies or promoting them but only executing them, which is the job they are assigned to do. If they didn't, someone else would. Someone else might be worse.

But we learned at Nuremberg that just following orders is no legal or moral defense. For everyone who espouses some measure of morality, there must be a red line they will not cross.

Anyone who works for this administration should know what theirs is.

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Elizabeth Shackelford is a senior adviser with the Institute for Global Affairs at Eurasia Group and a foreign affairs columnist for the Chicago Tribune. She is also a distinguished lecturer with the Dickey Center at Dartmouth College. She was previously a U.S. diplomat and is the author of "The Dissent Channel: American Diplomacy in a Dishonest Age."

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