The geopolitics of ICE, or an introduction to world-making
Letâs begin with a situation. A disturbing situation. The men with guns entered Rosa Sortoâs home by breaking a window and unlocking the side door (Arias v. ICE brief [07â01959]). It was 6:30 in the morning. They went from room to room demanding that sleepers arise, assemble in the living room and submit to questioning. Some of the men who lived in the house were taken away in handcuffs, dressed only in their boxer shorts. Some people were allowed to stay after the men with guns left. The invasions were repeated for four days all over town. Throughout 2007 and 2008 they were repeated in dozens of small towns and urban neighborhoods throughout the country (Chiu et al., 2009). Hundreds of men, women, and children were rounded up, put on waiting busses, sent to local jails, army bases, and detention facilities a thousand miles away. Some were flown out of the country. Children were stranded in day-care centers and schools with no word as to where their parents had been taken. One girl said, âAll of us are scared. When you go to school you donât know if your parents will be there when you get home. I donât feel safe anywhereâwalking to the school bus, walking outside the school buildingâ (Freedman, 2007). In one town 400 people took refuge in the basement of a Catholic church.
The men with guns were participating in world-making projects called Operation Cross Check and Operation Return to Sender. Among the towns where these militarized maneuvers took place were Wilmer, MN, New Bedford, MA, Pinsville, OH, and Greely, CO. Small towns such as Cactus, TX were virtually emptied of residents after, in the words of The New York Times, â⌠hundreds of agents clad in riot gear and armed with assault weaponsâ raided a work-site (Moreno, 2007). The men with guns were members of a Fugitive Apprehension Team working for ICE (the Bureau of Immigration and Customs Enforcement), an agency of the US federal governmentâs Department of Homeland Security. Those who were on the receiving end of these âoperationsâ were slaughter-house workers, garment stitchers, gardeners and day-laborers. They were also mothers, sons, sisters. Some were petty criminals, some were mentally retarded. Some were labor organizers. Some were citizens of the United States; others were citizens of Mexico, Honduras, and El Salvador. Practically, perhaps they were citizens of nowhere, denizens of the global assembly line. Some American citizens have had their homes invaded multiple times because of âmistaken identityâ (Bernstein, 2007a, 2007b). Primarily these people are suspects. They are suspected of being in the wrong place, on the wrong side of the line. They are suspected of being persons whose very physical existence is construed as âillegal presence.â
The timing of Operation Cross Check coincided with US Congressional debates about âcomprehensive immigration reformâ that includes the re-establishment of a guest-worker program (under which âaliensâ may be authorized to work in the US but with the possibility of becoming voting citizens permanently foreclosed), and the construction of a 370-mile long, 18-foot high wall along the northern border of Mexico (Hulse and Swarns, 2006). Operation Cross Check may have been no more than a demonstration project intended to âsend a messageâ that the Bush Administration was taking âthe illegal alien crisisâ seriously (Emanatian and Delaney, 2009). But this âmessageâ was sent through the enactment of events such as those just sketched. The men with guns were enforcing the rules that constitute immigration law. The rules exist and they were broken. Against complaints to the contrary, their superiors assert that the ICE raids, as they are called, are conducted in compliance with the law. Anticipating challenges by migrant-rights and civil-rights activists, one spokesperson, Tim Counts, has stated, âWeâll make our case in a court of lawâ (Freeman, 2007). Advocates for the prey argue that the raids are conducted with defective warrants or no warrants at all, in violation of the Fourth Amendment (Chiu, 2009; Arias v. ICE 07â01959). Whether or not Guatemalans, Salvadorans, or Mexicans had crossed into the space of sovereignty without authorization, advocates allege that the agents had crossed into the space of privacy illegally. And this, they assert, makes all the difference.
The situations that unfolded in Rosa Sortoâs living room in Wilmer, MN, the Swift Company meat-packing plant in Cactus, TX, the Bianco Inc. shop-floor in New Bedford and hundreds of other sites during the time that Operation Cross Check, Operation Wagon Train, and Operation Return to Sender were sweeping through the American landscape, can be described, analyzed, and assessed from a number of perspectives. For example, one could emphasize the causal relationship between these events and the global or hemispheric political-economic transformations that exacerbated conditions of immiseration in the villages and cities of Latin America (Lopez, 2007; Stephen, 2007). From this vantage point one might explain why millions of people are sufficiently desperate to feel compelled to walk for weeks in order to reach Los Estados Unidos, where they might (or might not) get a chance to earn 10 dollars an hour cutting up cow carcasses on a fast-moving assembly line. One might better grasp the importance of remittances from the US for mitigating the effects of immiseration.
Alternatively, one could emphasize the experiential realities related to raising the money to make the trip, transacting with coyotes who may as well leave them to die in the desert as not, living clandestinely after they arrive. One could, for example, focus on the everyday lives of people such as Fausto Lopez and other Mixtec, Triqui, and Zapotec people who live in makeshift encampments along Californiaâs Russian River. David Baconâs book, Communities without Borders: Images and Voices from the World of Migration (2006), documents the daily lives of these migrant workersâhow they work, shop, eat, raise their children. For many, for example, members of el Frente Indigena de Organazaciones Binacionales, (a movement of âindigenousâaliensâ), an immediate aspiration is to learn enough Spanish to communicate with other agricultural workers in California.
One might also try to understand these situations as they were experienced by those gathered up in the ICE raids. A woman who was swept up in the New Bedford raid describes some of her experiences like this:
Or, as is perhaps most common, one can exclude reference to both political economy and lived reality, and describe, analyze, and assess these facts of the matter as they are prefigured by legal categories (alien/citizen; documented/undocumented; due process, Fourth Amendment) and conventional spatial images (territorial sovereignty; borders; property; privacy). The alien and the citizen, the predators and the prey, all of us, live in a world in which power and experience are profoundly shaped and affected by space, law and their complex intertwinings. We continuously participate in making, un-making and re-making the world through the practical enactment of these intertwinings. Much of this is obvious. Lines are drawn, lines are crossed, lines are blurred. Distinctions are made, distinctions are un-made. Lines of force are channeled or deflected. But much of this is not obvious.
Fields of power / lines of force
As Henri Lefebvre has written, âThat space signifies is incontestable. But what it signifies is dos and donâts, and that brings us back to powerâ (1991: 142, emphasis added). And that brings us back to law. The worlds of human experience are composed of an uncountable number and innumerable variety of social spaces. Some are global in extent, some smaller than your hand; some are fixed to particular landscapes, some are in motion. The ways in which these spaces are created and altered, assembled, disassembled and reassembled, strongly condition what the world is like and what it is like to be in the worldâthat is, what this or that life is like. These spaces are meaningfulâthey signify, represent, and refer. They are, therefore, interpretable. The interpretations of social space may serve as unexamined premises for conclusions. The meanings in play may register widely within a culture or community (keep out) or they may be highly technical, specialized (the rule against refoulement, the exceptions to the knock-and-wait rule, the scope of the plenary power doctrine) or even idiosyncratic. But meanings are not extrinsic to the spaces; rather, spaces are constituted by their meanings, or, as it is commonly expressed, such meanings are âinscribedâ onto segments of the lived, material world. Insofar as the meanings so inscribed are ambiguous (and amenable to reinterpretation) then so are the spaces, and so are the situations that unfold with reference to these spaces. Spatialized meanings are not inert or passively waiting to be read or interpreted. As reflection on the ICE raids suggests, they may be productively understood as performableâas able to be taken up through bodily comportments. Particular spaces (this camp, that native reserve, that special housing unit of a maximum-security prison, this penalty-enhancement zone) and constellations of spaces can therefore be investigated in terms of their performative characteristics and effects, that is, in terms of how they are performed. At the same time, such inscriptions and performances may accomplish the materialization of meaning. Signifiers may be given concrete expression in boundaries, checkpoints, fences, doors, and thresholds; or in the ways in which components of the built environment are assembled; or the in ways in which more extensive landscapes are organized into fields of power.
There are a lot of kinds of meanings that may be so inscribed, performed, and materialized. Segments of social space or place may be invested with affective significance. One kind of meaning that is of profound significance for the production of social space is legal meaning. Sometimes legal meaning may be explicitly attached to the edges of social spaces: âkeep out,â âauthorized personnel only,â âNOW ENTERING MUDVILLE.â Sometimes the meanings are tacit, having been learned through habituation. Consider the spatialities of âthe public and the privateâ and the ways in which these condition experiential fields of power. In certain situations, though, the meanings and their entailments can be activated, or raised to a more conscious level of awareness. They often spell trouble. Just ask Michael Anton Michels, who was arrested for jogging in the nude in âpubic spaceâââindecencyâ being a function of the law-space conjunction (R. v. Michels, 27 W.C.B (2d) 170, 1995 (Albertaâs Queenâs Bench)). Or, ask Dana Derungs, Jennifer Gore, and Angie Baird, who were all ejected from Wal-Marts for breastfeeding their infants in the storesâwhich are interpretable as âpublic spaceâ in one legal sense and as âprivate spaceâ in another (Derungs v. Wal-Mart, 374 F.3d 428, 2004). Just as the socio-spatial may profitably be understood as performable, so too the socio-legal may beâmust beâperformed if it is to assume a presence in the world of experience. The ICE agents performed legality one way, the employees who expelled Dana Derungs performed it another way. However, as Igor Stramignoni has observed, âin spite of the ubiquity of Space in lawâs many legal domainsâor, perhaps, precisely because of that ubiquityâmodern Western law seems to pay little attention to itâ (2004: 179).
Consider these other recent episodes in the mutual constitution of the legal and the spatial and their intertwinement with power as experienced by:
⢠demonstrators at the 2004 Democratic Convention in Boston, who were herded into âprotest pensâ so as not to disturb delegates, and so as to be more easily monitored by authorities (Bl(a)ck Tea Society v. Boston 378 F.3d 8, 2004);
⢠or Ho Kim Ma, a âlegal alienâ in the US who arrived there as an infant refugee from Cambodia. Ma completed a prison sentence for assault and was then formally deported. But, because Cambodia would not accept him, he was âdetainedâ indefinitely, and then spent years being transferred from one private, corporate âdetention facilityâ to another without any hearings and without access to attorneys (Ma v. Reno, 208 F.3d 815, 2000);
⢠or members of the Uintah Indian Nation, whose reservation was found in 1992 to have been âdiminishedâ by implication eighty years earlier, a decision that resulted in a retroactive loss of tribal land base and reduction of tribal sovereignty (Hagen v. Utah, 510 U.S. 399, 1994);
⢠or Pearlie Rucker, who was evicted from her apartment in an Oakland public-housing complex because her daughter had violated the âone strike and youâre outâ provision of the Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1988 (Department of Housing and Urban Development v. Rucker, 535 U.S. 125, 2002);
⢠or Suzanne Kelo of New London, Connecticut, whose property was expropriated by the city and sold to private developers for âthe public benefitâ (Kelo v. New London, 545 U.S. 469, 2005);
⢠or Luz Marina Cardoza-Fonseca, whose application for asylum was denied because even though she had demonstrated âa well founded fear of persecutionâ the feared persecution was not deemed to be âon account of political opinionâ (INS v. Cardoza-Fonseca, 767 F.2 1448, 1994).
⢠(The references to âcasesâ indicate not only the existence of troubles but also the existence of contestable interpretations of law-space. And while they clearly represent important experiences in the lives of participants, each was also the occasion for broader systemic reiterations, reinforcements, modifications or transformations.)
⢠Or, if you have ever trespassed or been trespassed against; been evicted, deported, excluded, detained, extradited, banished, or quarantined; had your privacy invaded, been segregated or de-segregated, been subjected to âextraordinary rendition,â lost your passport, or are a native Hawaiian, illegal alien, or Palestinian ⌠) you can just ask yourself.
If we understand these primarily as spatial events, some of their features (boundaries, containment, mobility, expulsion, partition) will be foregrounded as other features are filtered out or marginalized. On the other hand, if we understand them primarily as legal events, other features (policing, administrative procedure, doctrinal elaboration, rights) will be given prominence as others are filtered out. There are, though, a multitude of ways of understanding spatiality, legality, and their relationship (or practical intertwinements). Some of these ways can be described as conventional, some are less conventional, or critical. In this work I will argue that conventional ways of understanding either the legal or th...