(Charlotte, North Carolina) Streets, shops and work sites in some of Charlotte’s busiest Latino neighborhoods were left “nearly empty” after a week-long federal immigration crackdown that local officials say has shaken the city’s economy and deepened fear among immigrant families.
The operation, called Operation Charlotte’s Web, began on November 15, 2025 and was led by U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) with more than 200 Border Patrol agents brought into the area. According to an internal Department of Homeland Security (DHS) document, the surge resulted in over 370 arrests in Charlotte and nearby communities, with fewer than one-third of those arrested classified as having criminal records. DHS figures cited in that document say more than 370 people were arrested in Charlotte, with 44 already possessing a criminal record, and fewer than 90 categorized as “criminal aliens.”

On the ground, the scale of the sweep showed up first in the sudden absence of workers. At a Midtown Charlotte construction site, only 10 workers showed up on Monday, down from the usual 180. Contractors who had planned to pour concrete and frame walls for new homes watched machinery sit idle as word spread that Border Patrol teams had fanned out across the city, making arrests not just at homes but outside businesses and in parking lots.
Across east Charlotte and along South Boulevard, dozens of restaurants and shops that usually serve a steady flow of Hispanic customers either closed or sat empty. At the Darby Acres Shopping Center on Central Avenue, a hub for small Latino-owned businesses, most stores were reported as “either closed or mostly empty” during the enforcement push. A Pineville international grocery store cut back its hours because staff did not come in and customers stayed away.
Storefronts that remained open taped handmade signs to their doors denouncing immigration raids. Many businesses posted anti-ICE notices and closed temporarily, with some owners and residents describing entire blocks as “shut like the first week of Covid.” For a city where, by local estimates, Latinos account for 1 out of every 6 Charlotte residents and form a key part of the workforce and consumer base, the economic shock was immediate.
Videos shared widely on social media showed Border Patrol agents in dark uniforms detaining people outside shops, in strip mall parking lots and near workplaces. In some clips, agents could be seen surrounding vehicles; in others, bystanders shouted at officers as handcuffed men and women were led away. There were also reports of agents smashing a U.S. citizen’s car window and detaining people who had been decorating a Christmas tree, adding to the sense among many residents that the enforcement was indiscriminate and harsh.
The reach of Operation Charlotte’s Web spread quickly into schools. As Border Patrol teams moved through residential areas, local high school students organized walkouts to protest the arrests and to support classmates worried about parents or siblings. School officials reported “tens of thousands of student absences” during the operation, a wave of no-shows that teachers and community leaders tied directly to fears of running into federal agents on the way to class.
Public anger spilled into the streets as protests formed outside locations where arrests were reported. One demonstration drew 100 demonstrators outside a Home Depot in Charlotte, after the chain’s parking lots became a frequent stop for federal teams looking for day laborers and other workers. Videos from those scenes showed officers detaining people near pickup trucks and work vans. Border Patrol Commander Gregory Bovino, the principal on-the-ground enforcer of Operation Charlotte’s Web, and his teams were repeatedly seen at Home Depot parking lots and other public gathering spots.
As the number of arrests climbed, DHS leaders in Washington and field commanders defended the strategy. DHS Secretary Kristi Noem said the agency is targeting the “worst of the worst,” including those with convictions for “robberies, assaults, DUIs.” She framed Operation Charlotte’s Web as part of a broader effort to remove people with serious criminal records from the country and argued that Border Patrol and its parent agency were acting within their authority.
But data supplied by DHS itself showed that in Charlotte, the majority of those taken into custody did not have criminal histories. Rep. Maria Salazar (R-Fla.) said in a CNN interview that
“200 people were arrested over 48 hours in Charlotte. Seventy percent of them didn’t have a criminal record, according to the Department of Homeland Security.”
Those figures, echoed in internal documents, fueled criticism from local officials who said the operation swept up workers, parents and long-time residents alongside people with prior convictions.
The political backlash inside North Carolina was swift and pointed. Mecklenburg County Sheriff Garry McFadden accused federal agents of damaging fragile trust between law enforcement and immigrant communities.
“We will continue to build relationships, mend bridges, and listen to the voices of everyone in our community. As we move forward, I want the city of Charlotte to know, I will keep fighting for clarity, accountability, and trust. I will continue to protect this city and every single one of its citizens,”
McFadden said, promising that his office would distance itself from mass roundups and focus on local policing.
Governor Josh Stein went further, accusing Border Patrol agents of “targeting American citizens based on their skin color, racially profiling, and picking up random people in parking lots and off of our sidewalks.” His remarks reflected growing complaints from residents who said friends and relatives had been questioned or held despite carrying valid U.S. passports or immigration papers.
Commander Gregory Bovino responded directly to Stein on social media in unusually blunt terms for a federal official.
“Governor Stein, you caused this. Let me say that again, Governor. When you spout lies about a lawful law enforcement operation, you spark something in weaker-minded people like this who may act upon your direction,”
Bovino wrote, defending his agents and accusing the governor of inflaming tensions. The exchange highlighted a deep rift between state leaders and federal enforcement officials over how immigration laws should be carried out in cities far from the border.
In City Hall, Charlotte Mayor Vi Lyles struck a different tone, welcoming the end of the operation and focusing on the damage left behind.
“I’m relieved for our community and the residents, businesses, and all those who were targeted and impacted by this intrusion,”
she said after Border Patrol teams began to pull out of the region. The city, she suggested, now faces the task of helping neighborhoods and employers regain their footing after a week in which daily routines were upended.
Operation Charlotte’s Web unfolded against a shifting national policy backdrop. The crackdown followed the termination of the Cuba, Haiti, Nicaragua, and Venezuela (CHNV) Parole Program, which had allowed some nationals of those countries to enter the United States temporarily, and the attempted termination of Haiti’s Temporary Protected Status (TPS). That move was blocked by a court injunction, extending the TPS-related deadline to February 3, 2026. According to DHS, notices of parole termination and revoked employment authorization were sent to affected individuals and their employers, signaling that people who had previously held legal permission to live and work in the country could soon be targeted for enforcement.
Immigration lawyers and advocates say those letters likely added to the anxiety in Charlotte’s Latino communities, even among people not directly covered by the CHNV program or Haiti’s TPS. For workers already wary of contact with authorities, the combination of policy reversals, revoked work permits and armed teams appearing at job sites created a powerful deterrent effect. Many simply stayed home.
By November 21, 2025, Border Patrol agents had demobilized from Charlotte, ending the visible surge of personnel and vehicles that had marked Operation Charlotte’s Web. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), which has a permanent presence in the region, continues to run its regular operations, but the wave of arrests tied directly to the CBP deployment has stopped for now. Some Latino businesses have begun to reopen, though owners report that customer traffic is still far below normal and that many regulars are afraid to return.
Federal officials, however, are already planning the next phase. DHS is preparing a new enforcement push in Louisiana and Mississippi, titled “Swamp Sweep,” set to begin on December 1, 2025. While few details have been made public, the name and timing suggest another large-scale operation run in partnership with U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) and Border Patrol units, similar to Operation Charlotte’s Web. Community groups in those states are watching Charlotte as a preview of what may come.
In Charlotte’s working-class districts, the fallout is still being counted. Employers who rely on immigrant labor say projects have stalled and schedules have been torn up. The Midtown construction site that saw attendance plunge from 180 workers to 10 in a single day now faces delays that could stretch for months. Restaurant and shop owners in east Charlotte talk about unpaid rent and spoiled food. Landlords report tenants leaving apartments with little notice, scared that agents might return.
Parents describe children who refuse to sleep alone or panic when they see law enforcement vehicles. Teachers, still dealing with “tens of thousands of student absences” during the height of the raids, now face the slower work of coaxing students back into classrooms and rebuilding confidence that the walk to school is safe. The sense of being watched, several residents say, has not completely faded even though the green-uniformed Border Patrol teams have left.
For supporters of stricter immigration enforcement, Operation Charlotte’s Web is held up as a model for future actions, an example of how deploying large numbers of agents far from the border can lead to fast, visible results. For critics, it is a warning about the human cost of such tactics and the risk that people without criminal records — including those with deep roots in local communities — will bear the brunt.
The clash of numbers and narratives is likely to continue. DHS points to its tally of “criminal aliens” and describes a focus on the “worst of the worst,” including convictions for “robberies, assaults, DUIs.” Local data and public statements from figures like Rep. Maria Salazar (R-Fla.), who said
“200 people were arrested over 48 hours in Charlotte. Seventy percent of them didn’t have a criminal record, according to the Department of Homeland Security,”
underline how many of those detained fell outside that narrow category.
As Charlotte tries to move on, residents are left weighing what the operation achieved and what it cost. For now, the image that lingers is less one of dramatic arrests and more of absence: shuttered storefronts, half-empty classrooms, and a Midtown job site where, on a Monday during Operation Charlotte’s Web, only ten hard hats appeared where 180 usually stood.
More information about CBP enforcement priorities and operations is available on the official U.S. Customs and Border Protection website.
Operation Charlotte’s Web, led by CBP from Nov. 15–21, 2025, produced over 370 arrests in Charlotte, with fewer than one-third having criminal records. The enforcement surge emptied Latino neighborhoods: businesses closed, a Midtown construction crew shrank from 180 to 10, and schools logged tens of thousands of absences. Local officials decried the tactics; DHS defended targeting serious offenders. The operation ended, but economic disruption persists and a similar operation is planned for December.
