PREVENTION THROUGH DETERRENCE - bordera pt.one

“Bordera” [border + frontera]:

We forget that there are two sides to the border, and two voices [or more] on the border. One side has put up a wall, excluding the other, and often one voice dominate public discourse. My hope is to shed some light on the other side and other voices on la frontera.

…

It is cool out as my feet bounce off the gravel road. This is my favorite weather to run in. I am wearing gloves and certainly could be wearing tights, but I prefer to feel the sting of the brisk air on the front of my things as my legs carry me forward. It is beautiful out. The earth is preparing for the coming dawn. The horizon turns from a night sky to a blue-green hue, illuminating the silhouette of the mountains to the east. It’s stunning and I have found a soft dirt road to enjoy it from. It isn’t just any dirt road though. This is the Border Patrol’s dirt road running along the north side of the U.S.-Mexico border in Douglas, Arizona.

We arrived in Douglas last night after flying from Mexico City to Phoenix and then driving south through the Sonoran Desert. I figured I would get in an early run, so I left the warm motel room expecting the winter air to bite a bit. What I didn’t expect to bite this morning was my privilege as I ran along el muro [the wall]. ¹ Immediately, the physical evidence of the Border Patrol’s PREVENTION THROUGH DETERRENCE policy was evident. Street lamps run along the north side of the border through Douglas and for miles into the desert beyond the city’s limit. Through Douglas and for a few miles on either side of town, patrol cars are parked every ¼ to ½ mile. The vehicles are left running 24/7 as bored agents stare out into the darkness watching for suspicious activity. Additionally, generator-run spotlights are set up in a few locations facing the wall – presumably in areas that are frequented the most, and hi-tech cameras – that detect heat and monitor distant people – also frequent the border wall. This defense strategy is called Prevention Through Deterrence, and was born in El Paso, Texas in 1994.

 ...

Before 1994, most undocumented immigrants crossed the frontera in the urban centers that line the border: El Paso, San Diego/San Isidro, etc. It was easy for migrants to arrive at these border cities, and easy for them to hop the fence and disappear into a crowd. Border Patrol agents often found themselves chasing illegal entrants down busy roads and through neighborhoods. When Silvestre Reyes took over the El Paso Sector, he was through with these shenanigans that disturbed local citizens and allowed many illegals to get away. Instead of continuing to react to illegal entries, he implemented “Operation Hold the Line” to secure the border in the urban area of El Paso. Hundreds of agents were placed along the wall in El Paso within eyesight of one another, and border crossing within the Juarez-El Paso city limits grinded to a halt (De León, 2015). Local residents applauded the new policy and soon identical policies were established elsewhere on the border. San Diego deemed their policy “Operation Gatekeeper” and Tuscon named theirs “Operation Safeguard.” These policies by no means stopped immigration though.  “It mostly frustrated migrants accustomed to crossing in urban zones and forced them to move toward the edge of town where they could easily hop the fence in depopulated areas” (De León, 2015, p.31).

While migrants were moved away from populated areas and thus “out of sight, out of mind” for some, the real effects of Prevention Through Deterrence (which includes, “Operation Hold the Line,” “Operation Gatekeeper,” and “Operation Safeguard”) were intended for these uninhabited areas. The U.S. government realized that “remote areas along the border (e.g., the Sonoran Desert) are difficult to traverse on foot and hence can be effectively used by law enforcement” (De León, 2015, p.32). The thinking was that “the desert can be a weapon of deterrence. If enough people die while crossing, they’ll simply stop coming” (De León, Interview, December 6, 2015). Anthropologist Jason De León then goes on to say,

Initially, I thought migrant deaths were unintended consequences. But when I got deeper into the origins of the policy, I discovered that federal documents plainly stated that fatalities were going to increase because of this policy. One document I cite contains a table using migrant deaths as a metric for demonstrating the policy is working. Realizing that some government official was typing this up and recognizing these things, was when I thought: This is a machine that kills people. It isn’t collateral damage. These aren’t unintended consequences. These are direct consequences that, in the initial stages of design, people were thinking about. (De León, Interview, December 6, 2015).²

Though the consequences were, in fact, intended, the government has led us to believe that the death of migrants lies on the shoulders of others: coyotes and guides, and the various actors of the deserts. Initial Prevention Through Deterrence documents described the hostility and danger of the desert, but over time the language used by the government has “changed from “hostile” to “harsh,” “inhospitable,” and the like” (De León, 2015, p.33). This language reflects a bureaucratic attempt to downplay the role of the U.S. Government in these deaths. Additionally, blame has been deferred to the coyotes and guías smuggling people into the United States. Guías, or guides, are easy to hate. After all, they are the people that often lead migrants into the desert only to take their money and leave them to die when the going gets rough. In The Devil’s Highway, Luis Alberto Urrea writes about a guía who got lost in the middle of the desert with 26 migrants he was guiding. Rather than telling them they were lost, he asked for their money and left them “to go get water.” The guide never returned, and fourteen of the twenty-six ended up dying.  The event made national headlines after its occurrence in May of 2001 and was made even more famous after Urrea’s best-seller reached the U.S. public’s hands. The guide’s name was Jesús.

While it is easy to be enraged at Jesús – and while much of this anger is justified – Jesús deserves a closer examination. He is not the devil that we, or the government, has made him out to be. Jesús was a 19-year old from Guadalajara, who had moved to northern Mexico to work and send money home to his family in hopes that they would be able to overcome poverty. Like many migrants from Central America that I meet in the shelter that I work at, Jesús was just trying to “sacar adelante” – “to get ahead.” Urrea writes that “he was exactly like the walkers he would later lead. Poor, alone, looking for a better life, willing to do what it takes. Like them, he was recruited. Like them, he was welcome to die for the [coyotes who owned the smuggling business he worked for]. There were many more waiting to take his place. There were so many more of him that he didn’t even exist” (Urrea, 2004, p.70). Jesús only took the job because it paid several times more than he earned at a maquiladora in Northern Mexico. He didn’t take the job because of malicious intent, but because it paid well. It seemed to be the most viable option to help him and his family “mejorar sus vidas” – “better their lives.”³

“The inhumane logic is that death will be the deterrent. That if enough people die in the desert, the horror stories their mourning families will spread will scare people from coming altogether.” “Unfortunately, all we have seen is all death and no deterrence. In a lot of ways, that policy is successful. It has done exactly what it was meant to do. It was set out to force people through dangerous areas and use the desert as a graveyard. And then if you get through, you can come and work for little pay and be exploited by employers in the U.S.” –Maryada Vallet, No More Deaths

As a result of language used and deferring blame to the coyotes and guías, the U.S. Government has effectively hidden its role in the death of migrants in the desert.* As De León writes, “This hostile terrain is now camouflaged in policy memorandums” (2015, p.33). Not only has the desert stopped – and by that, I mean killed – migrants, but the shift of migrants to the desert has also given Border Patrol a tactical advantage.⁴ Dr. Jason De León elaborates.

           

Many places along the border are marked by a three-strand barbed-wire fence or nothing at all. In Walker Canyon just northwest of Nogales, there is even an unlocked gate you can open and close at will. These are the same areas where Border Patrol are few and far between. In general, the agents have few incentives to heavily police these open areas. Catching someone at the moment of entry and deporting them back to Mexico leaves the person relatively fresh and energized to try again right away. Besides, the agency lacks the personnel to post people across the entire border, though that is changing. The Border Patrol recognizes that it is better to let migrants go a few rounds with heat stroke, bajadores⁵, and whatever else they might encounter in the wilderness. Only after they have taken some licks does law enforcement become interested in chasing people down and trotting them back to Mexico. Border crossers are easier to apprehend if they are exhausted or dead. Anthropologist Rocío Magaña recorded this strategy in a candid interview with an agent: 

They have a tactic in which they let the migrant walk. They let him walk for two or three days so he would suffer hunger and heat. They have them very well localized, they know where the crossers are. [And they say,] “Well, this [crosser] is going to be there, he is going to walk for two to three days. I am going to go home and sleep; tomorrow, when I come back, I’ll get him underneath a tree while he is tired or waiting. I am not going to need to chase him. Why? Because he is not going to run, the migrant is already too tired. I’m telling you… two to three days.” (De León, 2015, p.158-9)

…

After a day full of learning on the border, our group pulled into a McDonald’s parking lot in our white 15-passenger van, a mere 200 yards from the border wall and port-of-entry. We stumbled out of the van, and approached a group of twenty others who would be participating in this week’s prayer vigil. The vigil was created to remember the deaths of people crossing the border. As the death toll of migrants in Cochise County (Arizona) rose, local residents united together, forming a group called Healing Our Border in December of 2000. Since that time, the group has been recording all migrant deaths in the county. The number now sits around 380.

Death by sunlight, hypothermia, was the main culprit. But illegals drowned, froze, committed suicide, were murdered, were hit by trains and trucks, were bitten by rattlesnakes, had heart attacks. (Urrea, 2004, p.19).

For over a decade, Heal Our Border has also held a prayer vigil each Tuesday night to remember the deaths of many of these men, women and children. This night, we had the privilege to join Heal Our Border in this special vigil. As my friend Alyssa writes

We each grab 3 white crosses. These crosses have the names of migrants who have perished in Cochise County, Arizona in the past 15 years. When the information was available, their birth and death dates are also listed. Many have "no identificado" written where their name should be honored. We begin at sundown, just as hermanos y hermanas in the hills that surround us prepare their crossing.

One by one, each name is called out proudly, loudly, angrily, con tristeza y con esperanza. The group responds, yelling in unison "presente." They are present. They are human, they are more than numbers, they are more than statistics calling for a more militarized border. They are mothers, fathers, sisters, grandfathers, aunts, uncles, friends. They are present. (Kaplan, 2016).

Photo Cred: Ryana Holt

As we call out each name, we placed the crosses on the curb of the road leading to the port-of-entry. It was an act of making these deaths, which occurred out of sight, finally visible. For me, it was a way of denouncing my government’s role in these deaths. Though many died because of environmental factors, these were factors were only the weapon of murderous political decisions. In his indictment of the U.S.’s guilt for these murders, De León writes, “Nature “civilizes” the way the government deals with migrants; it does the dirty work. As the architects and supporters of PTD are well aware, this policy also cleverly increases the degrees of separation between victim and perpetrator” (De León, 2015, p.68). And in some of these cases, nature did such a good job of taking care of the victims that the bodies were unidentifiable.⁶ These bodies were likely never found by Border Patrol – seeing that the agency does not have the resources to search for every missing person in a desert that seems to be without end – or they were left there intentionally – in order to avoid the revulsive job of moving the body, in order to avoid paperwork, in order to hide the fact that maybe the body didn’t die by “natural causes,” but rather by an agent’s misconduct.⁷ Within a few weeks, these bodies would become unidentifiable.

Chelsea Holstead of the Colibrí Center – a nonprofit that works to identify the dead, so that grieving families can finally have answers – describes having had a number of families thank her after she notified them of their family member’s death (Martin, 2016). They do this because they are relieved to finally have answers, to no longer have to live in the ambiguous grief of not knowing.

Photo Cred: Ryana Holt

“VARON NO IDENTIFICADO,” I said as firm as I could, though my voice was shaky. I couldn’t hold it together as tears welled to my eyes. This man was one of the ones whose body was only found later, after significant decomposition. What would his family be thinking now? Years have passed. I would imagine that in the back of their minds they know that he is gone, that he has passed. But without confirmation, how could they have closure? ⁸ Are they still clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, he is alive – that he made to the other side, found work, and just hasn’t been able to make contact because he lost everyone’s contacts? Or, maybe he is being held captive by human smugglers in Northern Mexico and is being forced to work without pay, and therefore, there is still hope that he will escape and come back home. But if he did die, what will happen to his soul now? We never had the opportunity to perform a proper burial. ⁹

“Quisieron enterrarnos, pero se les olvido que somos semillas.” “They tried to bury us, but they didn’t know we are seeds.” –Mexican Proverb**

As I looked back toward the road, the crosses leading out from the port-of-entry seemed to form a border cemetery of types. It brought to mind another of De León’s reflections.

This desert [coffin] is eerily similar to archaeological descriptions of medieval and early modern times in places like Ireland: “There is… a patterning to the location of remains within the centers of power: the heads and body parts tend to occur at the boundaries of the medieval sites. Placing the remains in [boundary] locations would have amplified the visual messages sent to those both inside and outside the settlement while also reinforcing the symbolic exclusion of those whose body parts were treated in this manner.” Looking at the bodies left in the desert reveals what the physical boundary of sovereignty and the symbolic edge of humanity look like. (De León, 2015, p.84)

As some say, “The ultimate expression of sovereignty resides, to a large degree, in the power and the capacity to dictate who may live and who must die” (De León, 2015, p.67).

…

As I finished up my run that brisk desert morning, I turned off of the Border Patrol road hugging el muro and onto a side street. The street sign read “Dolores” ["pains"]. How true, I thought. How true.

“We cannot fight that captivity to sin if we do not first confess it. If we do not first look critically at the institutions in which we live. If we do not acknowledge that oppressive systems exist and we (people of the global north) benefit from that oppression. "...we confess we are captive to sin and cannot free ourselves." When we join our voices together and acknowledge the broken systems and the sin in our world, we can begin the work of liberation and grace. The work of accompaniment and solidarity. The work of listening and the work of a holy and healing presence with one another.” -Alyssa Kaplan

¹This privilege was especially felt my second morning running along the wall, when a few minutes in, three border patrol vehicles converged on me. One agent hopped out and said, “Are you just out jogging?” A little started, I promptly replied, “Yeah.” “Ok. We didn’t know if you had just hopped over the wall or something,” he responded. “Is it ok if I run here?” I asked. “Yeah, that’s fine,” he replied. Then as quickly as he had hopped out of the vehicle, he got back in, and returned to his post a short way down the road. I was shocked that the agent was so friendly, that I hadn’t been questioned, hadn’t been intimidated, and hadn’t even been asked to leave the road. Nevertheless, I realized that the situation would likely have been very different if the color of my skin was a bit darker.

²The Border Patrol’s 1994 Strategic Plan states, “The prediction is that with traditional entry and smuggling routes disrupted, illegal traffic will be deterred, or forced over more hostile terrain, less suited for crossing and more suited for enforcement.” The whole document can be viewed at http://cw.routledge.com/textbooks/9780415996945/gov-docs/1994.pdf

³After the death of the 14 group members and his subsequent imprisonment, Jesús wrote “By way of this letter, I ask forgiveness and pardon for what happened in the Arizona desert, because I really am sorry from the bottom of my heart for what happened and it honestly wasn’t my intention to lead those people to their deaths. Rather, my intention was to help them cross the border. But we never imagined the tragedy would happen” (Urrea, 2004, p.68). I want you to know that since my childhood my parents have always been of very low economical resources. My parents had to make great efforts just to feed us each day. I was forced to leave school because they didn’t have enough economic means to send all four of us children to school. So I decided to leave my family and look for work, and make good money to help my family make ends meet and buy them a house, since they don’t own their own home. I worked legitimately at a factory making roof tiles in Nogales, Sonora. The wages were truly very low, and that was my reason for getting involved in the smuggling business” (Urrea, 2004, p.70).

*Coyotes and guías are guilty for causing the death of migrants in the desert. However, it is likely that coyotes and guías would not be used in the first place if the U.S. Government had not initiated Prevention Through Deterrence, forcing migrants to more hostile terrain, which made it necessary to have a guide help one navigate the long, arduous trek.

⁴Elsewhere, De León shares “The Border Patrol spends billions of dollars on security every year, from surveillance cameras to motion sensors, helicopters, drones, and scope trucks with periscopes that can scan the landscape in 360 degrees. At night, they use infrared to pick up heat signatures of people coming through the desert. It’s military-grade technology we use elsewhere in battlefields.   

Then you have this group of people who don’t have much, except maybe they’re wearing all black to stay less visible during the day, Converse sneakers with carpet on the bottom to hide their footprints, and maybe a rosary and a Bible to bring them the luck they need. All of the technologies they’re using probably cost 20 bucks. But what gets people across is willpower. They are determined to come to the U.S. And if they are caught, they will try again. They look at this as, ‘Either I stay in my village and watch my children starve, or I keep pushing through until I make it.’ Many say, ‘I have nothing to go back to’” (De León, Interview, December 6, 2015).

⁵Bajadores are thiefs – sometimes associated with Narco groups – that are stationed along routes frequented by migrants entering the U.S. These individuals threaten, rob and rape migrants.

⁶In the desert, the heat, vultures and other wild animals accelerate the pace of body decomposition. De León writes, “Nature sanitizes the killing floor.”

⁷Urrea writes, “The unofficial policy was to let them lie where they were found, resting in peace where they fell. Any fan of Joseph Wambaugh books or cop shown on TV can figure out the rest of the story. All cases, for all cops, require paperwork. The Border Patrol is no different. Each corpse generates a case file. Every unidentified corpse represents one case forever left open – you can never close the case if you can never find out who the dead walker was or where he or she came from. But uncollected – unreported – bones generate no files. Besides, how do the agents know if the bones are one hundred years old?” (Urrea, 2004, p.19).

⁸De León describes the story of one Ecuadoran family he was in contact with. The family’s 15-year old son disappeared in the desert and was not heard from again. They asked De León to help search for him and to ask Arizona officials if his body had been found. Two younger cousins who were traveling with him recount that he became so dehydrated and weak that he couldn’t keep up, so the group continued on without him. Though all evidence points to him dying in the desert, without confirmation, the family could never move on. De León shares that over a year after the adolescent’s death, he (De León) was still receiving e-mails from the boy’s family asking if he had received any news on whether the body was discovered. (2015)

⁹In addition to the grief of not knowing what happened to a loved one, Latin American families – which are often devout Catholics – are troubled by the lack of a proper burial ceremony. Among some believers, this is seen as a necessary step for one’s body to be resurrected in the afterlife.

**For actual origins of quote, see http://jhfearless.com/2014/11/they-tried-to-bury-us-they-didnt-know-we-were-seeds/

Reference List:

De León, J. (2015). The land of open graves: living and dying on the migrant trail. Oakland,

            CA: University of California Press.

Kaplan, A. (2016, February 4). Presente [Blog file]. Retrieved from

            http://yagmmexico2016.blogspot.mx/2016/02/presente.html?spref=fb

Martin, A. (2016, February 11). The Empire's War on the Border - Full Documentary //

Empire_File018/19 [Video file]. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e94K30251MI

Urrea, L. A. (2004). The devil’s highway: A true story. New York: Little, Brown and Company.

U.S. Border Patrol. (1994). Border patrol strategic plan: 1994 and beyond.

Wurrall, S. (Interviewer) & De León, J. (Interviewee). (2015). An anthropologist unravels the

mysteries of Mexican migration [Interview transcript]. Retrieved from National Geographic Web site: http://news.nationalgeographic.com/2015/12/151206-immigration-border-migrant-mexico-desert-ngbooktalk/

I encourage you to check out my friends' reflections [which are much shorter and more engaging]:
Hannah's reflections on privilege
Gracia's post about our visit to the Douglas Border Patrol Station
Ryana's post about the Prayer Vigil we attended
Alyssa's reflections on sin and the border
Video of the weekly Prayer Vigil in Douglas, AZ