San Francisco Immigration Court Closure Reflects National Purge of Judges

The closure of San Francisco's main immigration court stands as a stark symbol of the turmoil sweeping the nation's immigration judiciary system. Once a bustling hub of legal proceedings, the court now sits empty, with no immigrants waiting for rulings and no lawyers making arguments. The transformation is dramatic: from 21 judges when President Trump took office last year to just two remaining when the court officially closed May 1.

This closure represents more than just a change of address; it's the visible outcome of a systematic purge of federal immigration judges nationwide. The Trump administration has fired nearly 100 judges perceived as too liberal while approving the use of military lawyers to replace them, all in an effort to address a massive backlog of 3.8 million asylum cases and accelerate deportation proceedings.

"It was a vibrant legal scene and so I think if you were looking to target a court you would have to look at what San Francisco stands for," said Jeremiah Johnson, an immigration judge in the city until he was fired in November. He now serves as executive vice president of the National Association of Immigration Judges.

The San Francisco court, which historically handled the third-highest number of asylum cases in the nation, had been uniquely favorable to people seeking asylum. From 2019 to 2024, approximately 75% of petitioners received some form of relief, compared to 43% nationwide, according to data from the Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse at Syracuse University. This success was partly due to San Francisco's extensive network of pro-immigrant organizations and pro bono legal services, which provided representation rates far above the national average.

The administration initially planned to close the San Francisco courthouse in 2027 as a cost-saving measure, moving cases to a newer facility in Concord, about 30 miles away. However, the end came prematurely after nearly all the San Francisco judges departed. The Executive Office of Immigration Review, which oversees immigration courts, provided no detailed explanation for the accelerated closure, stating only that it had decided not to renew the lease and doesn't comment on personnel matters.

Concord's courthouse, which opened two years ago to help with San Francisco's backlog, has now absorbed the 117,000 cases from the closed court. Yet this facility has also been affected by the purge. Having started 2025 with 11 judges, it's now down to five after a series of firings. Adding the transferred cases to its existing caseload of 60,000 has created an overwhelming situation.

The physical relocation has created significant hardships for immigrants and their attorneys. "The closure of the San Francisco court has made cases more time consuming since it's harder for my clients, who often travel from hours away, to reach Concord on public transportation," said Judah Lakin, an immigration attorney based in Oakland who teaches at UC Berkeley School of Law. "One recent 10-minute hearing in Concord took me more than two hours of travel."

Beyond logistical challenges, the atmosphere in immigration courts has become increasingly fraught. Mass firings have led to last-minute hearing cancellations, cases have been reset with minimal notice, and clients are often left in prolonged legal limbo, making them vulnerable to deportation.

"The ground is constantly shifting underneath your feet, whether it's judges being fired and hearings getting canceled, whether it's your clients getting arrested, whether it's getting denials on things that used to be standard and routine," Lakin said. "I think that's on purpose. That's by design. It's part of the strategy."

One of Lakin's clients exemplifies this instability. The client was provisionally granted asylum by a judge who was then fired before signing the decision. The case was transferred to a second judge, who was also subsequently fired. Now on their third judge, the client continues to wait in uncertainty.

Security measures at the Concord courthouse have been significantly tightened, reflecting both the new influx of cases and the heightened tensions surrounding immigration proceedings. Armed guards now question every person about weapons or explosives, monitor cell phone deactivation, and prohibit food—only transparent bottles of water are permitted.

The administration's approach to immigration courts differs significantly from the federal judiciary. Unlike federal courts with strict procedural rules and lifetime tenure for judges, the Justice Department runs immigration courts, and the attorney general has greater authority to remove judges. At the start of Trump's second term, there were 754 immigration judges nationwide; now, approximately 600 remain, including some temporary appointments.

The nationwide upheaval has had a chilling effect on courtroom attendance. Widespread courthouse arrests have caused hundreds of people to avoid hearings altogether, leading to deportation orders in absentia. Attorney Dr. Nidaa Pervaiz, who represents a client from Nepal, has observed firsthand how the system changes have affected her practice.

"Fewer judges leads to fewer hearings. That means more delays for my clients, whose paperwork can expire even before they can appear before a judge," Pervaiz said. "Their whole lives are at stake, and they are coming to make a plea for their future."

Dana Leigh Marks, a former San Francisco immigration judge who retired in 2021 after 35 years on the bench, views the court's closure as part of a broader strategy. "It's heartbreaking to see the court close," she said. "I see the Trump administration's decision to close the largest immigration court in Northern California as part of an effort to undermine due process and eventually dismantle the path to asylum. It's all a part of big ways and little ways that the Trump administration is trying to get non-citizens out of the country."

Johnson, the fired judge, believes his removal was directly tied to his judicial performance. He was appointed during Trump's first administration and granted asylum in 89% of his cases. "You don't fire judges if you disagree with the way they're handling a case, that's not how courts work. If you disagree, you appeal that decision," Johnson said. He defended his record, noting that over eight years, only about 10 of his cases were appealed by the Department of Homeland Security, with very few sent back for further hearings.

As the nation's immigration system continues to transform under this new approach, the closure of San Francisco's court serves as both a symbol and a consequence of a fundamental shift in how asylum cases are processed. The human impact—delays, uncertainty, and disrupted lives—continues to unfold as the legal landscape shifts beneath the feet of those most affected.