DHS Tells Olivia Rodrigo: Don’t Belittle ICE, Thank Them

(UNITED STATES) The Department of Homeland Security told Olivia Rodrigo to “thank them for their service, not belittle their sacrifice” after the pop star condemned the government’s use of her music in a deportation-themed social media video, escalating a clash between a U.S. agency and one of the country’s most prominent young artists over immigration messaging and the portrayal of ICE agents.

The dispute began on November 4, 2025, when DHS and the White House posted an Instagram reel urging undocumented immigrants to “LEAVE NOW and self-deport using the CBP Home app,” set to Rodrigo’s track “All-American Btch.” The video intercut shots of ICE agents detaining people of color with the song’s lyrics, “All the time/ I’m grateful all the time/ I’m sexy and I’m kind/ I’m pretty when I cry,” playing in the background. Olivia Rodrigo, a Grammy-winning artist of Filipino, German, and Irish descent whose fan base spans teens to older listeners, responded directly beneath the post: *“Don’t ever use my songs to promote your racist, hateful propaganda.”

As the reel spread, Rodrigo’s comment drew a wave of support from fans and immigrant rights groups, who said the pairing of a pop anthem about identity and womanhood with footage of detentions trivialized a life-altering enforcement campaign. By November 8, 2025, her comment was no longer visible under the DHS post, but screenshots circulated widely across platforms, fueling debate about how federal agencies communicate on immigration and whether DHS had the right or the judgment to yoke a chart-topping artist’s work to a message telling people to leave the country.

DHS did not remove the video, according to posts still visible on government accounts cited by advocates, and instead defended its personnel. In a statement reported on November 7, 2025, a DHS spokesperson replied to Rodrigo’s criticism:

“America is grateful all the time for our federal law enforcement officers who keep us safe. We suggest Ms. Rodrigo thank them for their service, not belittle their sacrifice.”

The spokesperson’s words, released in the name of the department that oversees Immigration and Customs Enforcement, sharpened the focus on ICE agents featured in the reel and framed Rodrigo’s rebuke as a slight against officers serving under federal law.

Rodrigo, who has used her platform in recent years to speak about civic issues and women’s health, had previously denounced deportation tactics in her hometown. In June 2025 she wrote: “I’ve lived in LA my whole life and I’m deeply upset about these violent deportations of my neighbors under the current administration. LA simply wouldn’t exist without immigrants. Treating hardworking community members with such little respect, empathy, and due process is awful. I stand with the beautiful, diverse community of Los Angeles and with immigrants all across America. I stand for our right to freedom of speech and freedom to protest.” The renewed clash with DHS adds a national dimension to those concerns, placing her in a direct public argument with a cabinet-level department.

The video’s call to “LEAVE NOW and self-deport using the CBP Home app” also drew scrutiny from technologists and migration advocates, who questioned both the tone and the practicality of telling people to use a mobile pathway for self-removal. The reel presented immigration enforcement in short, high-contrast clips of ICE agents moving people into custody, while Rodrigo’s lyrics, including “I’m pretty when I cry,” unspooled over the images. For supporters of the campaign, the imagery underscored DHS’s mandate to enforce immigration law; for critics, it risked dehumanizing people facing removal and co-opting a pop song unrelated to federal policy.

Fans rallied quickly to Rodrigo’s side, amplifying her comment and tagging DHS, the White House, and ICE in their posts. One user on X, formerly Twitter, wrote, “Olivia Rodrigo slams the White House and DHS for using her song — she said what we’re all thinking,” a line that spread widely among accounts sympathetic to immigrant communities. Immigrant rights organizations called the DHS campaign “misguided” and “disrespectful,” saying the department’s media strategy crossed a line by attaching a youthful, feminist track to detention scenes and an instruction to self-deport. Several groups said the reel’s presentation risked normalizing removals while reducing the experiences of families to a soundtrack and a slogan.

The department’s response doubled down on support for DHS personnel and ICE agents. By invoking “our federal law enforcement officers who keep us safe,” the spokesperson positioned the video within a larger narrative of public safety and national security that DHS often cites when defending enforcement. The message suggested that Rodrigo’s critique, aimed at the agency’s communications and policy choices, was heard internally as an attack on the people carrying out those duties on the ground. In telling Rodrigo to “thank them for their service,” DHS sought to redirect public attention from the ethics of the video to respect for law enforcement, a rhetorical move common in debates over immigration raids and removals.

The White House’s role in sharing the reel added political stakes. Although the administration has varied its tone on immigration across different audiences, the decision to push a message telling people to leave the United States via a government app drew a sharp response from cultural figures who typically avoid direct clashes with federal agencies. Rodrigo’s status as one of the most recognizable young artists in the country ensured the episode would break out of policy circles and into mainstream entertainment and youth culture, where questions about consent, copyright, and moral endorsement collide with government speech.

Key to the reaction was the choice of “All-American Btch,” a song embraced by many young women as a layered take on performance and expectation. The juxtaposition of its refrain with video of ICE agents detaining people of color was at the heart of the criticism from advocates, who say the framing made light of the power imbalance at the center of enforcement encounters. The reel’s call to *“self-deport” using a government app also struck some immigrant communities as chilling, suggesting that agencies expect people to initiate their own departure under the gaze of the same system that arrests and detains them.

The legal and ethical questions surrounding the government’s use of popular music without an artist’s support are not new, but they rarely involve an immediate, public rebuke from the performer and a swift, pointed response from a federal department. Rodrigo’s “Don’t ever use my songs to promote your racist, hateful propaganda” comment galvanized her fan base and brought the mechanics of DHS social media into sharp relief. Advocates noted that the removal or disappearance of the comment by November 8, 2025 did not slow the spread of the screenshots, which became artifacts of a broader argument about who controls the narrative on immigration enforcement in the United States.

For DHS, the priority appears to be defending its workforce and asserting a firm stance on removals and public safety. The department’s statement praised “our federal law enforcement officers” and asked Rodrigo to show gratitude rather than condemnation. The emphasis on sacrifice and safety mirrors DHS’s messaging about the daily risks faced by ICE agents and other personnel, a theme the agency deploys when faced with criticism from celebrities, activists, or local officials. A link on the department’s website outlines its enforcement mission and the responsibilities of its components, including ICE and Customs and Border Protection, though the Instagram reel’s pairing of policy, imagery, and pop music presented that mission in a form designed for maximum reach on social platforms. Readers can find DHS’s broader mission statements at the Department of Homeland Security.

The episode also highlights the limits of message control for both government and artists. While DHS and the White House can publish reels on official accounts, they cannot prevent high-profile critics like Rodrigo from framing the content as “racist, hateful propaganda,” nor can they stop supporters and opponents from distributing screenshots when comments disappear. Conversely, artists have limited legal tools to stop public actors from using short music clips in social posts that may fall under platform licenses, leaving moral persuasion and public pressure as their primary means to object.

No evidence of an official apology or further statement from DHS or ICE was visible beyond the spokesperson’s quoted response as of November 8, 2025. That silence left the department’s last word as a defense of its officers and an implicit warning to detractors not to “belittle their sacrifice.” For Rodrigo, who has tied her public identity to support for immigrant communities in Los Angeles and beyond, the line appears to be the government’s use of her art to sell a message encouraging people to leave the country. The standoff may persist online, where each new share of the reel or its screenshots reopens the question of whether entertainment, policy, and law enforcement should mix this way—and who gets to say when the pairing goes too far.

The practical impact of the video on undocumented immigrants is unclear, but its cultural impact is unmistakable. It has pulled ICE agents and DHS into a very public cultural conversation and prompted many of Rodrigo’s fans to engage with the politics of deportation, some for the first time. It has also exposed a gap between government institutions that want to harness the reach of pop culture and artists who do not want their work used to underscore enforcement. In that gap, a debate about consent, tone, and respect for the people most affected by immigration policy is likely to endure well beyond the current news cycle.