Social media, particularly TikTok, has become an essential tool for migrant smugglers. Through persuasive 30-second videos, often filled with emojis, these platforms promise safe passage across the U.S.-Mexico border—even without a visa.
These videos feature migrants walking through desert landscapes, buggies approaching the border fence, families squeezing through gaps in the wall, and transportation methods such as helicopters, yachts, and jet skis purportedly ready to deliver them safely to the “American Dream.”
“With God’s help, we’ll continue working to fulfill foreigners’ dreams. Safe journeys without stealing from our own people,” wrote one smuggler in a social media post.
This trend has intensified amid drastically reduced legal pathways for migration to the United States. Criminal organizations have also capitalized on the situation, turning human smuggling into a profitable enterprise.
According to Guadalupe Correa-Cabrera, a George Mason University professor specializing in migration, the use of social media as a facilitator for migration increased between 2017 and 2018, when activists began organizing massive migrant caravans through large WhatsApp groups.
“It’s a marketing strategy. Everyone was on TikTok, especially after the pandemic, and then its use exploded,” Correa-Cabrera explained.
Smugglers, known colloquially as “polleros” or “coyotes,” have adapted their tactics to new technologies. Soary, a 24-year-old woman who is part of a smuggling network operating between Ciudad Juárez and El Paso, Texas, illustrates this shift. She began smuggling migrants at age 19, initially transporting those who had just crossed the border in her own truck.
“In this business, you have to change your approach. TikTok reaches everyone,” said Soary, who spoke to The Associated Press on the condition of anonymity, withholding her last name for fear of detection by authorities.
In addition to transporting migrants, Soary records videos of them after crossing the border. These clips, previously sent via WhatsApp as proof of successful crossings, are now published openly on TikTok. The platform maintains that it strictly prohibits human trafficking and reports such content to authorities.
Nevertheless, hundreds of accounts openly advertise their smuggling services, posting messages like: “We’ll take you across from Ciudad Juárez, no matter where you are—jumping fences, walking, or through tunnels. Adults, children, and seniors welcome.” Videos frequently include images of bundles of cash, helicopters, airplanes, and even desert cacti cut open to provide drinking water for migrants.
“We keep crossing and we’re not afraid,” another smuggler wrote in a video post.
However, both migrants and authorities caution that such videos may be used to defraud or lure individuals into dangerous situations. Drug cartels, increasingly involved in human smuggling, have resorted to kidnapping and extortion as methods to maximize profits.
Cristina, a migrant originally from Zacatecas, Mexico, experienced this firsthand. After being abandoned by a smuggler in Ciudad Juárez, she turned to TikTok out of desperation.
“In a desperate moment, I started looking on TikTok, and with the algorithm, these videos started appearing. It took me just half an hour to find a smuggler,” said Cristina, who now resides in Phoenix.
Although Cristina successfully found and trusted Soary—partly because she was a woman and shared family-oriented videos—many migrants are less fortunate. Some are forced to record videos falsely claiming they arrived safely.
“And legally, there’s little we can do. I mean, it’s not like we can report them,” stated one trafficker, who preferred to be identified only by his TikTok username, “The Corporation.”
In response, international organizations, including the United Nations’ International Organization for Migration (IOM), have expressed alarm. Recent reports highlight that smuggling networks are becoming increasingly sophisticated and elusive, posing significant challenges for law enforcement agencies.