Federal agents deported a Laotian national convicted of sexually assaulting a 10-year-old girl in Minnesota, one month after Governor Tim Walz and the state's pardon board tried to shield the man from removal. Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced Friday that he had revoked the legal status of Tou Lue Vang, 42, clearing the way for ICE to carry out the deportation the same day.
The sequence of events is worth laying out plainly, because it tells a story no press release can soften. In 2006, Vang was convicted of first-degree criminal sexual conduct for repeatedly assaulting a child over a two-year period. That conviction stripped his legal status and put him on track for deportation. Twenty years later, the Minnesota Board of Pardons voted unanimously on June 10 to pardon Vang, removing the very conditions that would have required his removal from the country.
Then the federal government stepped in and finished what Minnesota's elected leaders refused to do.
The details of Vang's case are difficult to read, and they should be. When police questioned him about the abuse of the 10-year-old victim, Vang told law enforcement it was "a cultural thing [...] to marry and have sex with girls as young as 12." He did not express remorse. He attempted to convince officers that the child was equally guilty and should herself be arrested, according to a Department of Homeland Security press release issued July 1.
That is the man the Minnesota Board of Pardons chose to pardon.
The board consists of three members: Governor Walz, Attorney General Keith Ellison, and Chief Justice Natalie Hudson. All three voted to approve the pardon, according to Newsmax. The New York Times reported that Walz and other pardon officials acknowledged the threat of deportation facing an individual is a factor weighed during the review process. In other words, the board knew exactly what the pardon would do: it would remove the legal basis for Vang's removal from the United States.
Governor Walz did not respond to the Daily Caller's request for comment before the article's publication.
Rubio moved decisively. After the pardon, the Secretary of State terminated Vang's legal status, overriding the state-level action by refusing to restore the green card and restarting federal removal proceedings. ICE carried out the deportation within hours.
Rubio made the announcement on X, writing: "Laotian national Tou Lue Vang was convicted of sexually abusing a 10-year-old girl in Minnesota. He was set to be deported until @GovTimWalz issued him a pardon. Then, I revoked his legal status. @ICEgov has removed him from the U.S. and he will never endanger another..."
In a separate statement, Rubio was blunt about the stakes. He said:
"Americans must never be forced by their elected leaders to live alongside foreign sex criminals who have no right to begin with to reside in our country."
He added that the administration "will always stand with the American people and defend them from violent criminals." DHS acting Assistant Secretary Lauren Bis was more pointed, stating that Walz had "pardoned this sex criminal in an attempt to allow him to remain in our country."
Rubio, who has taken on an increasingly visible role in the administration, recently fielding questions in the White House briefing room during press secretary Karoline Leavitt's maternity leave, has positioned himself as a central figure on immigration enforcement and foreign policy alike.
The Vang case did not happen in a vacuum. Minnesota appears on the Department of Justice's published list of sanctuary jurisdictions, states and localities that limit cooperation between local law enforcement and federal immigration agents. That designation means state and local authorities in Minnesota are restricted from assisting ICE in identifying, detaining, or transferring illegal immigrants for removal.
The practical effect is straightforward: when a state pardons a convicted sex offender whose criminal record is the legal basis for his deportation, and that same state refuses to cooperate with federal immigration enforcement, the federal government has to work around the state to protect the public.
That is precisely what happened here. Rubio's revocation of Vang's status and ICE's rapid execution of the removal order amounted to the federal government doing the job Minnesota's leadership would not.
The broader political context matters too. Rubio's name has surfaced in recent 2028 speculation alongside Vice President JD Vance, and actions like this one reinforce the Secretary of State's profile as an enforcer within the administration.
Consider the calendar. On June 10, the Minnesota Board of Pardons approved Vang's pardon. By July 1, DHS had issued a press release spotlighting the decision and the grotesque details of the underlying crime. That same day, the New York Times published its own account of the pardon. By July 2, the Daily Caller had reported on Walz's approval of the pardon for a man it described as an illegal immigrant slated for deportation.
Eight days later, on July 10, Rubio revoked Vang's legal status and ICE removed him from the country.
The federal government moved in a matter of weeks. The state of Minnesota, by contrast, had two decades to act on Vang's 2006 conviction, and chose instead to erase its consequences.
Vance's own political future, as observers have noted, runs through the same MAGA coalition that demands exactly this kind of enforcement. The Vang deportation is a case study in what that coalition expects from its leaders: follow the law, protect the public, and don't flinch when a blue-state governor tries to run interference for a convicted predator.
Several questions linger. The specific legal mechanism by which the Secretary of State revoked Vang's immigration status has not been detailed publicly. The full terms of the Minnesota Clemency Review Commission's pardon remain unclear, including whether any conditions were attached or whether the board considered the victim's input. The country to which Vang was deported has not been stated explicitly, though his Laotian nationality is a matter of record.
Perhaps most pressing: what did Walz expect to happen? Did the governor believe the federal government would simply accept a state pardon as the final word on the immigration status of a convicted sex offender? Or was the pardon itself a political statement, a signal to progressive constituencies that Minnesota would resist federal deportation efforts, even for the most indefensible cases?
Walz has not said. His office has offered no public explanation. The silence is its own kind of answer.
The administration's diplomatic portfolio continues to expand as well. Rubio has been active on multiple fronts, including restoring bilateral ties with Venezuela, a reminder that the same official who revoked a convicted predator's legal status is also managing complex foreign relationships. The Vang case, in that light, is not a sideshow. It is a statement of priorities.
A 10-year-old girl was sexually assaulted over a two-year period. Her abuser told police she was the guilty party. He was convicted, lost his legal status, and was set for deportation. Then the governor of Minnesota, along with the state attorney general and chief justice, voted to pardon him, knowing full well it would block his removal from the country.
The federal government overruled them. Vang is gone.
When elected officials use the pardon power to shelter convicted sex offenders from the consequences of their crimes, the question stops being about immigration policy. It becomes a question about who those officials are actually protecting, and it is plainly not the children of Minnesota.
