PROVIDENCE | 8.7.19
BY ALAN W. DOWD
Some
of us thought the ugliness of the language President Trump used to describe
certain members of Congress—alongside the
ugliness of the language certain members
of Congress used to describe
law-enforcement agents trying to enforce the law on our
southern border—would mark the low point of America’s twenty-first-century
struggles with immigration. The twin massacres in El Paso (perpetrated by a man
motivated by racist hate, who
targeted people of Hispanic descent) and
Dayton (perpetrated by a man motivated by anarchist hate, who
labeled US Immigration and Customs
Enforcement facilities “concentration camps”) proved us wrong.
The
ugly words and horrific events of the summer of 2019 underscore that this
nation of immigrants is simply not handling the challenge created by
immigration. It’s a challenge that must be addressed—for the good of
immigrants, Americans-in-the-making and American citizens alike. Failure to do
so is poisoning our politics, undermining the rule of law, endangering lives
and threatening the nation’s security.
Problems
It’s
been said that admitting you have a problem is the first step to fixing it.
What’s true in 12-step programs is true in public policy. These are today’s
immigration numbers:
- In
June, US Department of Homeland Security officials informed Congress that in a 40-day
span, DHS took into custody 60,000 immigrant children, many of them
unaccompanied. In May, a record 144,000 people crossed the border illegally; on
a single day in May, 5,800 crossed the border illegally.
- There were 240,930
border apprehensions in 2017.
- DHSestimates 12 million immigrants are living
in the US illegally—up from around 8 million in 2010. A Heritage Foundation study concludes that undocumented
immigrants “impose a net fiscal burden of around $54.5 billion per year.”
We
can quibble over whether all of this adds up to a crisis. But with government
agencies overwhelmed and overstretched, with the law unenforced, with innocent
children in danger, illegal immigration is undeniably a problem.
Read
that again: illegal immigration is the problem—not immigration. Ours is
a nation of immigrants—each new cohort of immigrants serving as a wellspring
for our country, a reminder of our roots, a surge of growth and dynamism. All
told, America’s foreign-born population stands at 44.4 million—13.5 percent of the overall
population. To put that in perspective, immigrants represented 14.8 percent of
the population in 1890; 13.5 percent in 1900. In other words, today’s numbers
may sound high, but the percentage is below the historic highs.
What’s
different today is that only 44 percent of the foreign-born population
are naturalized US citizens, down from 78 percent in 1950. As historian Alan Brinkley
writes in The Unfinished Nation, many
immigrant arrivals since the 1960s were “less willing to accept the standards
of the larger society,” “more likely to demand recognition of their own ethnic
identity,” “challenged the assimilationist idea,” and “advocated instead a culturally
pluralist society.”
This
insistence among large segments of today’s foreign-born population to remain
separate from the American Experiment—this refusal to become
American—is not healthy for a nation founded
on an idea,
rather than blood or birthplace, race or religion.
Indeed,
far from promoting the vile racialism embraced by the El Paso murderer, an
immigration system premised on naturalization has nothing to do with externalities
or superficial characteristics, but instead focuses on the rights and
responsibilities of citizenship. It’s all there in the citizenship oath and naturalization process—fidelity to the US, support for
the Constitution, respect for the country’s laws, renouncement of allegiance to
foreign powers, an “understanding of the fundamentals of the history, and of
the principles and form of government, of the United States,” a willingness to
defend the US from enemies. Someone living here illegally has neither taken
this oath nor learned these lessons of naturalization.
Threats
Those
who justify illegal immigration tell us “no human being is illegal,” and
they’re correct about this. Words matter; to attach the adjective “illegal” to
a person can have the effect of dehumanizing him or her. No child of God is
“illegal.”
However,
we do illegal things at times. Entering the United States illegally, by
definition, is illegal. No matter how hard-working he is, an immigrant who
enters this country outside the avenues prescribed by the law is breaking the law.
If the law means anything, if there is to be justice for those who enter the
country legally, there must be a penalty for entering illegally. If there
isn’t, it breeds contempt for the law—whether in the policies adopted by
America’s neighbors (see here and here), or organized waves of illegal crossings, or human-trafficking networks, or the sort of violence we
witnessed in El Paso.
Where
those who justify illegal immigration are wrong is in advocating open borders.
The US government has the right and the responsibility to determine who enters
this country—and how they enter. That’s part of sovereignty. In fact, a
nation-state that cannot control its borders isn’t really sovereign—which is to
say, not self-governing, not in control.
“People should have to ring the doorbell
before they enter my house or my country,” as columnist Tom Friedman puts it. Why is that? Why do we
expect people to ring the doorbell before entering our house? One of the main
reasons is security and self-protection. An open border, just like an open
front door, represents a threat to our security. But don’t take my word for it.
In July, the US attorney in Los Angeles released an indictment related to a
string of brutal murders in southern California. As the Los Angeles Timesreports, “Nineteen of the 22 defendants
charged in the indictment had entered the country illegally.”
Noting
that 100 people from the Caribbean and South America had joined the Islamic
State, US Southern Command (SOUTHCOM) warned in 2015 that human-smuggling networks are
“so efficient that if a terrorist or almost anyone wants to get into our
country, they just pay the fare.” (Before dismissing that number as
insignificant, recall that just 19 al-Qaeda operatives maimed Manhattan.)
SOUTHCOM’s 2019 posture statement echoes what was said in 2015:
“Established drug-trafficking routes and techniques provide opportunities for
the illegal movement of other commodities and people—including terrorists,” it
reads, adding that ISIS “could leverage
established trafficking networks to make their way to our border.”
Islands
One
gets the sense that El Paso will serve as a turning point for this nation of
immigrants: toward an even more-open border and less-sovereign United States,
or toward a new consensus on sensible immigration-and-naturalization policy. We
should aim, hope, and pray for the latter—and learn from what worked in the
past.
From
1892 to 1954, 12 million people entered America through Ellis Island. Thomas
Pitkin writes that when Frederic Howe became commissioner of Ellis Island, his
goal was “to have immigrants well started on their way to becoming good
American citizens before they left the island.” Toward that end, Howe forged
partnerships with local schools to teach immigrants English, provided “a
beginner’s class in American citizenship,” endeavored to “Americanize the
immigrant” and transformed Ellis Island into “a comfortable waiting room” for
future Americans.
In
Howe’s day, that was considered the progressive position. And it served America
well.
Wouldn’t
it make sense to divert some of the $54.5 billion we spend supporting
immigrants who are here illegally into long-term solutions that bring them out
of the shadows and put them on a path to citizenship? Might we spend those
resources converting unusedfederal facilities—especially in Texas, California,
and Florida, where 47 percent of undocumented migrants reside—into centers that
provide immigrants with proper housing, medical care, instruction in English
and civics, and connections to job opportunities?
These
modern-day Ellis Islands wouldn’t be cheap. But by promoting legal immigration
and encouraging naturalization, they would be an investment in our future. And
by focusing on assimilating immigrants, they would free up law enforcement
agencies to do what they’re trained to do.
Experiments
In
wrestling with the challenges created by illegal immigration, too many
Christians project what Christ expects of his followers onto
government—forgetting that
governments are held to a different standard than individuals. As such,
governments are expected to do certain things individuals aren’t expected to
do—and shouldn’t do certain things individuals should do. For instance,
Jesus calls on individuals to turn the other cheek, “put away the sword,” and
forgive enemies “seventy times seven” times. Scripture challenges God’s people
to keep no record of wrongs, to stop worrying about tomorrow, and to “show
hospitality to strangers.”
Such
behavior is
next to godliness for individuals, but such behavior is next to suicidal for
nation-states. A government that turned the other cheek, “put
away the sword,” forgave its enemies “seventy times seven” times, kept no
record of wrongs, didn’t “worry about tomorrow” and all the dangers it holds,
and welcomed strangers without question or qualification would expose its
citizens to enormous risk—and wouldn’t be living up to its obligations.
Yet
just as we should expect our government to enforce laws and maintain order, we should expect our government
to treat the immigrant with dignity and compassion—remembering that we
ourselves are considered “strangers,” “aliens,”
“foreigners” in this world. Paul describes us as “Christ’s ambassadors” and citizens of another land. To extend the
metaphor, this country is our diplomatic posting. This piece of earth matters
enough to heaven that God has posted us here to represent him, share our
blessings, do justice and show mercy, and care about the here-and-now, even as
we focus our hearts on the hereafter.
In
this regard, we might be inspired and even surprised by the words of Fr.
Richard John Neuhaus, who was called to his eternal home in 2009. “When I meet
God,” he wrote, “I expect to meet him as an
American. Admittedly, that is a statement that can easily be misunderstood. It
is not intended as a boast or as a claim on God’s favorable judgment. It is a
simple statement of fact. Among all the things I am or have been or hope to be,
I am undeniably an American. It is not the most important thing, but it is an
inescapable thing.”
Neuhaus
recognized, as his biographer has written, that “every Christian is first and
always a citizen of what Augustine called the heavenly and eternal City of God …
that this citizenship informs how he lives in this fallen, mortal world, the
City of Man” and that “God is not indifferent to the American Experiment.”
If
well-meaning Christians continue to confuse the responsibilities of the state
with the responsibilities of discipleship, illegal immigration—immigration
without naturalization—will transform America in profound ways. And the
American Experiment could fail.