So why am I here? Why do I reside in what my intellectual mentor, José Martí called “the belly of the beast”? Contrary to popular mythology, we did not come seeking liberty or pursuing economic opportunities; we came because of sugar, rum, and tobacco (the three necessities of life). We are in this alien land as a direct result of U.S. foreign policies designed to deprive my country of origin, Cuba, of political and economic sovereignty during the first half of the twentieth century.
The reason I—and many of my fellow Latinxs—are here is a paradox conveniently ignored by politicians and absent from the current immigration debate. Rather than wrestling with the causes of immigration from south of the border, we instead batter around red herrings like anchor babies, the taking away jobs from real Americans, or seeking to unfairly use up generous social services provided by taxpayers. Or, more politically correct, we come in search of the American Dream, hoping for a better life for our families. Unfortunately, these narratives are all erroneous. We are forced to leave our homelands for the insecurity of border crossing because the United States empire—like all colonizers—created political and economic uncertainty in our countries of origins due to a foreign policy designed to secure the avarice of multinational corporations.
In an unapologetic attempt to garner votes, right-wing politicians rile against illegals, presenting the undocumented as a threat to U.S. security and a danger to everyday “real” Americans. Donald Trump best illustrates this with his campaign announcement speech where he refers to Mexicans as “bringing drugs. . . bringing crime. . . [and being] rapists.”18 Unfortunately, this type of bigoted anti-immigrant rhetoric is the norm of a current neo-nativist attitude. During the 2016 presidential elections, Republican candidates—speaking to their base—engaged in a one-upmanship of outdoing their opponents by proposing greater life-threatening intolerance to the cheers of approving crowds. All advocate weaponized drones targeting border-crossers, constructing a 2,000-mile fence stretching from the Pacific to the Gulf, and building more private prisons to accompany the entire family (including babies and children).
We should not be surprised that conservative-leaning politicians are hostile to Latinx immigration. But rather than rehash their blatant racism, I will instead focus on the problematic rhetoric normatively expressed by liberals who engage in the rhetoric of hospitality. During the 2016 democratic presidential primary debate, Martin O’Malley approached immigration by stating, “We are not a country that should send children away and send them back to certain death.” He called “hospitality to strangers” an “essential human dignity.”19 Who could argue against hospitality? After all, this virtue becomes a religious and civic duty to assist (bring salvation) to these poor unfortunate souls. It’s what Jesus would do. Hospitality is a biblical concept meaning more than just opening one’s home to the stranger and inviting them for a meal. The Hebrew Bible God consistently reminds us to remember Abram the alien, or the Hebrews’ time in Egypt as slaves; and thus, offer justice to the sojourner residing in our midst. The New Testament God reminds us how some who showed hospitality to strangers, entertained angels without realizing (Heb 13:2). The biblical terms “stranger” or “sojourner” captures the predicament of the today’s U.S. undocumented immigrant from Mexico or Central America. The term connotes the in-between space of neither being native-born nor a foreigner. As such, the alien lacks the benefits and protection ordinarily provided to those tied to land due to their birthplace. Vulnerable to those who profit from their labor, aliens derive security from the biblical mandate of hospitality. Alien’s treatment is based on three biblical presuppositions: 1) the Jews were once aliens who were oppressed by the natives of the land of Egypt (Exod 22:21); 2) God always sides and intervenes to liberate the disenfranchised (Exod 23:9); and 3) God’s covenant with Israel is contingent on all members of the community benefitting, regardless if they are Jewish or not (Deut 26:11).
The importance of the New Testament passage of José and his family seeking refuge in Egypt, is often lost on those with the privilege of citizenship. Yet for those who are or have been undocumented, they read in these verses a God actively connecting with the hopelessness of being uprooted. Responsibility toward aliens is so paramount, God incarnated God’s self as an alien fleeing the oppressive consequences of the empire of the time. Herod’s responsibility was to ensure profits, in the form of taxes, flowed to the Roman center with as little resistance as possible. Obviously, he also benefited financially, as do many Latin American elites today who sign trade agreements destructive to their compatriots. To ask why Jesús, a colonized man, was in Egypt is to ask why Latinxs today are in the United States.
Colonization during the time of Jesús brought about a push factor where his family, out of fear for their lives, fled toward Egypt; just as it pushed my own family northward due to the same reasons. The economic, political, and foreign policies of the United States caused this push factor in Latin America, specifically Central America, as people either lose their farms and livelihoods or fled in fear of the governments established in their countries through the might of Washington. Simultaneously, in the quest for cheap labor within the U.S., a pull factor is also created. Crossing the border, described as a festering scar caused by the First World rubbing against the Third, becomes a life-threatening venture. The U.S. has a Latin American immigration problem because for the past two hundred years, its wealth was based on stealing the cheap labor and natural resources of its neighboring countries.
As Rome benefited by pax romana20 brought about by territorial expansion, North Americans benefitted by pax americana, known throughout the ninetieth century by its jingoist religious ideological term “Manifest Destiny,”21 which justified Anglo territorial expansion. Acquiring land had more to do than with simply divine inspiration. With the new possessions came all the gold deposits in California, copper deposits in Arizona and New Mexico, silver deposits in Nevada, oil in Texas, and all of the natural harbors (except Veracruz) necessary for commerce along the California coast. By ignoring the provisions of the peace treaty signed with Mexico; the U.S. government was able to dismiss the historic land titles Mexicans held, allowing white U.S. citizens to obtain the natural resources embedded in the land. These natural resources, along with cheap Mexican labor fueled the U.S. industrial revolution allowing overall U.S. economy to develop and function, while economically dooming Mexico by preventing the nation from capitalizing on its stolen natural resources.
We must consider the nineteenth century policy of Manifest Destiny. This pseudo-religious ideology believed God gave whites a new promised land encompassing the entire Western Hemisphere. Perhaps the staunchest supporter was James K. Polk, eleventh president, who while on the campaign trail promised to annex Texas and engage Mexico in war if elected. Once taking office, he deployed troops into Mexican territory to solicit the desired response of having the Mexican army first fire upon the invading U.S. army. The Mexican–American War ended with Mexico’s capitulation, ceding half her territory. A surveyor line was drawn across the sand upon an area which, according to the archeological evidence, has historically experienced fluid migration. This expansionist war against Mexico was minimized by the false creation of the U.S.’s historical mega-narrative designed to mask the fact it was the empire who crossed the borders—not the other way around.
We must also consider how the twentieth century policy of “gunboat diplomacy”22 unleashed a colonial venture depriving Central American countries of their natural resources while providing the U.S. with an unlimited supply of cheap labor. President Theodore Roosevelt laid the foundation for the enrichment of today’s multinational corporations. Roosevelt’s foreign policy placed the full force of the U.S. military, specifically the marines, at the disposal of U.S. corporations, specifically the United Fruit Company, to protect their business interest. Nicknamed “El Pulpo”—the Octopus—because its tentacles extended into every power structure within Central America, the United Fruit Company was able to set prices, taxes, and employee treatment free from local government intervention. By 1930, the company had a sixty-three percent share of the banana market. Any nation in “our” Hemisphere which attempted to claim their sovereignty to the detriment of U.S. business interests could expect the U.S. to invade and set up a new government (hence the term “banana republic”—coined in 1935 to describe servile dictatorships). It is no coincidence the rise of U.S. banana consumption coincided with the rise of U.S. imperialist
