Written by Esther Caldwell.

When Senator Chris Van Hollen journeyed to El Salvador to plead for the release of deportee Kilmar Abrego Garcia, he likely didn’t anticipate the storm of criticism that would follow. Critics now argue that the Maryland Democrat’s actions may have crossed a legal line, potentially violating the Logan Act, a 1799 law meant to prevent unauthorized diplomacy. This article dissects the details of Van Hollen’s trip, unpacks the historical and legal context of the Logan Act, and considers what this episode means for U.S. foreign policy and the ethics of congressional conduct.

The Logan Act: A Dusty but Potent Statute

In 1799, Congress passed the Logan Act to stop U.S. citizens from meddling in foreign affairs without official approval. The law took its name from Pennsylvania Senator George Logan, who, during a tense period known as the Quasi-War, held unauthorized talks with French diplomat Charles de Talleyrand. Logan, with a nod from Vice President Thomas Jefferson, aimed to cool tensions with France, but his efforts rankled President John Adams’ administration, which saw them as a dangerous overreach. The resulting statute forbids citizens from engaging with foreign governments to sway their actions in disputes involving the U.S., with penalties including fines or up to three years in prison.

No one has ever been convicted under the Logan Act, and its rare mention in modern times has led some to call it a relic. Yet its invocation in political spats, like the one surrounding Van Hollen, keeps it alive as a marker of where private action ends and official diplomacy begins. For a senator, whose role blurs the line between public servant and policymaker, the law’s relevance feels particularly thorny.

Van Hollen’s El Salvador Gambit

Van Hollen’s trip to El Salvador centered on Kilmar Abrego Garcia, a deportee the Trump administration tied to the MS-13 gang, which it labeled a terrorist organization. The senator met with Salvadoran officials to push for Garcia’s release, a move that has drawn fierce backlash from conservative critics. The American Accountability Foundation (AAF), a group focused on government accountability, has demanded a Senate Ethics Committee probe, claiming Van Hollen’s actions undermine U.S. foreign policy.

AAF President Thomas Jones, in a letter to Senate Ethics Committee Chairman James Lankford and Majority Leader John Thune, called Garcia a transnational criminal threat. He criticized Van Hollen for using Senate funds to travel and meet with foreign officials, labeling it a blatant overstep. Roger Stone, a longtime conservative operative, took to social media to ask why Van Hollen hasn’t faced legal scrutiny for what he sees as rogue diplomacy.

Those in Van Hollen’s corner argue he was fulfilling his duty to look out for constituents, especially on issues like deportation where human stakes run high. Senators often engage with foreign officials to shine a light on U.S. policies, they say, citing examples like trips to assess refugee conditions or trade impacts. But critics counter that Van Hollen’s solo mission, absent State Department coordination, risks muddling America’s stance on a group as serious as MS-13.

Lessons from History, Shadows of Today

The Logan Act isn’t new to political controversies. In 2016, Michael Flynn, Donald Trump’s incoming national security advisor, faced accusations of violating the law for talking with Russian Ambassador Sergei Kislyak before Trump’s inauguration. Notes from FBI agent Peter Strzok suggested Vice President Joe Biden floated the Logan Act as a tool to investigate Flynn, though FBI Director James Comey later called Flynn’s talks unremarkable for a transition official. No charges followed, but the episode showed how the law can be wielded as a political cudgel.

Legal minds have wrestled with the Logan Act’s place in a world of instant global communication. Its vague wording makes prosecution tricky—how do you prove intent to undermine U.S. policy without stifling free speech? A 2020 Congressional Research Service report pointed out these hurdles, noting the law’s lack of convictions. Some, like journalist Byron York, call it toothless, a holdover from an era when diplomacy moved by ship, not smartphone. Others see it as a necessary guardrail, especially when national security is at stake.

Van Hollen’s case isn’t a neat parallel to Flynn’s. As a senator, he carries a mantle of authority that a private citizen or unelected advisor lacks. But advocating for someone linked to a terrorist group like MS-13 raises eyebrows, especially when U.S. policy has branded such individuals as major threats. Senators do travel abroad to probe issues like immigration—think of visits to border regions or refugee camps—but these trips typically involve diplomatic briefings to keep U.S. messaging consistent. Van Hollen’s critics argue he skipped that step, creating a diplomatic tangle.

What This Means for Policy and Ethics

Van Hollen’s trip lays bare the tightrope senators walk when they step onto the global stage. Congressional leaders regularly meet with foreign counterparts to discuss everything from climate goals to human rights, but those meetings usually sync with State Department priorities to avoid mixed signals. By going it alone to advocate for a deportee, Van Hollen risks blurring U.S. policy on issues like immigration and gang violence, where clarity is critical.

Could the Justice Department, under Attorney General Pam Bondi, charge Van Hollen under the Logan Act? It’s unlikely. Proving he acted without authority and with intent to derail U.S. policy would be a steep climb, especially given the law’s dusty track record. A 2022 American Bar Association analysis flagged the statute’s constitutional risks, warning it could chill legitimate political activity if enforced too broadly.

Then there’s the ethical angle. The AAF’s letter to the Senate Ethics Committee zeroes in on Van Hollen’s use of Senate funds, questioning whether taxpayers should foot the bill for such a trip. Public frustration with congressional travel isn’t new—voters often bristle at stories of lawmakers jetting off on murky missions. Add to that the charged context of MS-13, a group tied to violent crime across borders, and Van Hollen’s decision looks like a gamble. The U.S. has poured resources into curbing MS-13’s reach, from deportations to international law enforcement partnerships. A senator’s push to free one of its alleged members, however well-intentioned, invites skepticism about priorities.

Immigration policy itself is a minefield. Deportations spark fierce debates over fairness, family ties, and human rights, but they also intersect with hardline stances on crime and security. Van Hollen’s trip, whether a bold stand or a misstep, reflects the messy reality of tackling these issues in a world where local choices ripple globally.

Our Take

Senator Chris Van Hollen’s El Salvador trip is a flashpoint for deeper questions about where compassion ends and diplomatic discipline begins. His defenders see a senator doing his job, shining a light on a deportee’s case in a system that can feel cold and unyielding. Critics, though, see a reckless move that flirts with violating the Logan Act and muddies U.S. policy on a group as dangerous as MS-13. This episode demands clearer rules for how senators engage abroad, especially on issues as volatile as immigration and national security. In a time when political lines are drawn in sharp relief, dusting off old laws like the Logan Act to score points only deepens distrust in public institutions. Senators should act with care, ensuring their zeal for justice doesn’t unravel the delicate threads of U.S. diplomacy.