Sunday, February 5, 2017

The Immigration Debate and the Danger of Political Extremes: What History Tells Us


On January 28, 2017, President Donald Trump signed an executive order halting immigration from Iran, Iraq, Syria, Sudan, Libya, Yemen and Somalia for 120 days as well as putting an indefinite stoppage of all Syrian refugees coming to America. As word of the order spread over the media, confusion began to be seen at several of the nation’s major airports. Immigration agents began stopping hundreds of foreigners from these countries, even those who had valid visas and Green Cards. Protesters began demanding that those detained immediately be released and local officials seeing a resourceful sound bite and a chance to embarrass the Trump Administration denounced the order in the strongest terms they could.

For the past week, the many conservatives have supported the spirit of the order, if not the way it was done. In contrast the media has denounced Trump’s order and people have repeated the oft quoted “Give me your poor, your tired, your huddled masses” and held up signs that simply say “No Ban.” No one, either from the conservatives, media, the protesters or the Democrats who have come out in support of them have offered any cohesive alternative to a halt on immigration. When people say “build a wall” are they prepared to spend the billions of dollars that it would take? For the people that shout “No Ban,” do they literally mean that that there should be no borders at all? No border fence with Mexico? No checkpoints on the Canadian border? No need to show ID at the airport?

The history of U.S. immigration is complex and would take too long to discuss, but two examples from that history show the dangers of either total deportation or total acceptance and hold an important lesson for both sides of the debate.  

“Operation Wetback” (Seriously, that’s what it was officially called)
By the early 20th century, Mexico was still struggling to recover from the loss of half its territory to the United States in the 1840s and decades of upheaval that followed. In 1884, Porfirio Díaz seized dictatorial powers in Mexico City and soon began a program of economic development. Mexican cites soon had modern buildings, roads and street lights. But this came at the price of the largest benefits going to European and American businesses and a handful of Mexican officials. In 1911, Díaz was overthrown and the country split into different warring factions. With new governments constantly falling apart, common Mexican citizens decided to look for safety and new job opportunities. 

By the 1920s, the continued exodus to the United States had become an embarrassment to the Mexican government. Officials attempted to increase the number of border officers and get people to immigrate legally in smaller numbers. However, in order to go to the United States with official approval, Mexicans had to pay expensive fees, which they often could not afford and show they had sign work contracts in the United States. Unable to pay or get to the U.S. to sign contracts, families in depressed farming regions simply left under cover of darkness and went across the lightly guarded U.S. border.

This all changed in 1929 when the U.S. Stock Market crashed, sending economic shockwaves around the world.  In places like Tacoma, Washington, over 40% of Americans were suddenly out of work. Without badly-needed bank loans, farms across the southwest failed, leading many families to pack up and drive or ride the rails across the country in search of work. Mexican immigrants were no longer welcome. America had already passed a new immigration law in 1924 that strictly limited numbers of all immigrants and created the U.S. Border Patrol. While these new rules were impossible to enforce on either side of the border, many Mexican migrant families, seeing a sudden lack of opportunity and hearing calls to come home, voluntarily returned to Mexico. Politicians jumped on the bandwagon, calling on citizen groups to help organize and transport Mexicans back to the border.

With the outbreak of World War II, hundreds of thousands of Americans left their jobs to go off and fight in Europe and the Pacific. With the loss of their preferred labor source, factory owners and large-scale farmers had to suddenly make up for this loss, hiring women, blacks and Mexican migrant workers. At the same time as the U.S. loosened restrictions, Mexican farmers and factory owners saw a drop in their labor resources. Reports poured into Mexico City that fields along the border were being left unharvested and factories were emptying out. Meanwhile, legal immigrants in places like Texas and California began writing angry letters home that the increase of cheap illegal immigrant workers were causing American owners to fire their more expensive legal immigrant workers.

Seeking to stop the unchecked flow to north, the Mexican government called a meeting of American officials from the Justice Department and Immigration Services. Mexico demanded that in return for the legal labor Mexico was providing the U.S, Americans had to get serious about stopping illegal immigration. The key to this was to shift the vast majority of existing border agents along the Canadian border to the porous southern border. On top of this, they demanded budgets for immigration be increased and the number of agents doubled. In return for these changes, Mexico would increase its police presence along the border, allowing more suspicious travelers to be stopped on both sides. American officers would be directed to launch raids aimed at rounding up Mexican immigrants across the Midwest. The results of these changes were dramatic: overnight, arrests at the border tripled from 11,000 in 1943 to 28,000 in 1944. With the end of World War II one year later, pressure for deportation increased. Over the next eight years, thousands of suspected illegal immigrants were caught, thrown on a train, plane or bus, and physically shoved into the arms of Mexican officers.

By the 1950s, over 800,000 illegal immigrants were being captured each year. Yet, despite increased enforcement on both sides of the border, thousands more slipped across, taking up jobs as basic laborers and farmhands. Again, people started complaining on both sides of the border. Mexican fields were again empty and businessmen were unable to find employees. American workers were also growing increasingly frustrated. Many of them were still trying to find their footing after the war. How could the rest of America prosper, they objected, when they saw their own jobs going to people who would work under unbearable circumstances for far less money? 

In early in 1954, U.S. officials announced that, starting in May, they would begin an unprecedented law enforcement sweep. Hundreds of agents, backed by local and federal officers, would begin patrolling the main avenues along the border and launch a series of fast moving raids on suspected illegal hideouts, and anyone attempting to cross the border would have to first be inspected at one of numerous checkpoints and roadblocks. At the same time, the Mexican government announced that it too would have checkpoints and increased border security. 

On the first day of what was officially called “Operation Wetback,” agents from California to Texas, followed closely by media cameras, hit a series of locations, dragging off “illegals.” Soon, Mexicans in the hundreds were forced aboard  buses and driven straight to the Mexican border. Others were grabbed as they came over the fence and immediately handed back to Mexican police officers. All through the summer, Greyhound buses loaded with Mexican immigrants and with roofs piled high with belongings journeyed south as intense raids along the border continued to take place. At the end of August, U.S. officials reported that 1.8 million illegals had been sent back to Mexico and the success of the operation was portrayed by the media as a victory for the America worker.

Since the summer of 1954, historians have increasingly criticized Operation Wetback. A careful history of the operation by Kelly Lytle Hernández found that there was almost no basis for the 1.8 million number and that, in fact, examination of deportation reports before and after Operation Wetback show that only about 250,000 Mexicans were actually moved. Other sources have pointed out that among those deported were hundreds of legal American citizens swept up by law enforcement and not allowed the chance to appeal. Rather than finding out where native Mexicans lived, local authorities dropped them wherever it was convenient, even if it meant that the illegals were now hundreds of miles from their homes in Mexico. Finally, the absolute failure of Operation Wetback can be seen in the fact that for years afterward, statisticians found that at least 20% of those who had been arrested and driven to Mexico returned to their old jobs in the U.S.  Hernández writes that the point of the operation actually had not been to stop illegal immigration, but to convince the press and the American public that something was being done when it really wasn’t.

The Mariel Boatlift
If Operation Wetback illustrates the shortcoming of the “throw them all out” mentality of Donald Trump and his most ardent supporters, the Mariel Boatlift in the spring and summer of 1980 clearly shows the dangers of unchecked immigration that many appear to support today.
In 1959, communist guerrilla leader Fidel Castro overthrew the U.S.-backed government on the island of Cuba, ninety miles off the coast of Florida. While the U.S. was initially friendly to the new Cuban leader, as Castro’s ties to communist Russia and his repression of the Cuban people became more apparent, the U.S. decided to cut all political and economic ties with the country.
By the 1960s, Castro had officially closed off Cuba and sharply limited the movement of the people in it. As political opponents were rounded up, their friends and family, fearing for their own safety, began fleeing to the United States. Soon a large community of Cuban exiles formed in Miami, Florida. Throughout the two decades that followed, the United States was sympathetic to Cuban refugees fleeing the evils of communism, but the police state in Cuba kept the flow of immigration at a relative trickle.

Then on April 1, 1980, a bus hijacked by Cuban locals smashed through the gates of the Peruvian embassy in Havana and demanded alyssum. Cuban soldiers immediately surrounded the complex and demanded the Cubans inside be handed over. When the Peruvians refused, word spread across the city and more Cubans showed up to try and get through the line of soldiers blocking the way in. On the morning of April 3, residents awoke to find that the soldiers in front of the embassy had left. Within hours, thousands of Cubans fill the small courtyard and continued to climb over the walls.
Just as quickly as they had disappeared, Cuban soldiers came back and stopped more people from coming in. By now there were as many as 10,000 inside the embassy. With little food or water, the refugees began falling ill as the standoff stretched into days and then weeks. In the United States, President Jimmy Carter announced it was America’s moral responsibility to do something for the Cubans and announced that the U.S. would take 3,500 people. Hearing this, Castro turned to his brother and said "They want them, then they can have them. I will flush my toilets."

Castro quietly released an order saying that if Cubans could get the required travel permits and go to the port of Mariel, they could then make their way to Florida. 

When the first Cuban vessels arrived in Miami and word got out that the border was suddenly open, Cuban exiles in the U.S. began buying up small fishing and sport boats that were not all seaworthy and paying disreputable captains to make the dangerous voyage to Mariel to pick up family members they had left behind. The number of boats going into and out of Florida soon overwhelmed the Coast Guard, who reported that far more than the 3,500 refugees were coming in. Florida state officials were soon bitter about Carter’s decision, believing that they had been largely left alone to carry the burden of this unexpected human flood into southern Florida ports.

Among all the people who were merely trying to reunite their families, Coast Guard and Florida officials began to notice something strange about many of the people on the boats. Some babbled incessantly and otherwise showed signs of mental illness. Others exhibited symptoms of severe alcoholism. Worse yet, many sported gang tattoos and prison uniforms. It would later turn out that Castro had ordered prisons and insane asylums emptied and the streets cleared of the homeless.
After only a few weeks, President Carter announced that the U.S. would no longer take Cuban refugees. Castro continued sending boats overloaded with people from Mariel. The Coast Guard could do little but escort them to Florida. Throughout the summer, thousands of Cubans kept coming. Two giant tent cities sprang up in the vast parking lot of Miami's Orange Bowl and along I-95. Still other large camps filled on Miami’s South Beach. 

Miami residents began complaining that there were more people than houses. Apartment managers who had opened their doors to refugees began to openly fear that they would never see a dime in rent. Widespread abuse of the Food Stamp program began being reported in Florida and the unemployment rate skyrocketed from 5.7% to 13%. Crimes involving Mariel refugees involved in murder and rape doubled.  

In late September 1980, Castro abruptly closed the port of Mariel to any further emmigration and re-implemented strict travel laws. In all, 125,000 Cubans had found their way to the United States. Of these, Immigration and Naturalization Services would later determine that up to 24,000 were criminals and 5,000 of these had been among Cuba’s worst.

The Boatlift was over and in November Jimmy Carter lost the Presidential Election to Ronald Reagan. For the residents of Florida, the consequences of the mass immigration were just beginning.  Charlie Seraydar would later tell journalist Gerald Posner, “We went from being a seasonal tourist town to suddenly dealing with seasoned criminals who had nothing to lose," Seraydar continued, "No matter how badly we treated them, no matter how low they lived, it was better than the jails they called home in Cuba. That first year, our crime rate went up 600 percent. Our entire police force was smaller than a single New York City precinct. It felt like we had been invaded and were losing the battle."

The next year it was reported that Miami, already suffering from a growing cocaine trafficking industry in the late 70s, had become the murder capital of the world. 48% of those murdered were refugees from Mariel. 

For the next decade, local and federal officers would investigate and hunt down the drug networks that emerged in the 1980s. It would take a serious crackdown on drug dealers and re-investment in Florida real estate and tourism before the state began to recover in the 1990s.

Were the Mariel people to blame for all that followed? Certainly not. The cocaine industry had been emerging in Latin American countries in the 1970s. However, the Cuban refugee crisis in the summer of 1980 allowed for bad people to be spirited in with regular people and overworked immigration officers could do nothing, short of stopping them as they got off the boat.

While we will continue to debate Trump’s developing policy on immigration, the lessons of Operation Wetback and the Mariel Boatlift should serve as stark reminders to both Republicans and Democrats. You cannot simply stop people from going over the southern border, no matter how much money or time you invest in it. But neither can you simply open the gates and allow everyone to come in simply because of moral responsibility. Rather, both sides need to work on a middle ground solution that strengthens border security everywhere and sets up an adequate vetting process that ensures, as much as humanely possible, that good people come in.