In the rest of the world, remittances are rising, up as much as 10 percent a year, according to Donald Terry of the Inter-American Development Bank. Last year, migrant workers worldwide sent more than $300 billion to developing countries — almost twice the amount of foreign direct investment. (IHT)

Two interesting developments as a result of this new environment for migrant workers are noted briefly: migrants in the US are saving more money for emergencies, and their families at home are engaging in more microenterprise, especially related to agriculture, as the flow of money from the North dries up.

International Herald Tribune article

One of the most striking points she makes, at least from my born-in-1978 viewpoint, is the following:

…[W]e could allocate green cards to countries based on the relative size of their population and emigration demand; their ties to American citizens and institutions; and their supply of low- and high-skilled labor that we need. In other words, if we acknowledge that immigration is driven by supply and demand and take into account the needs of the United States and other countries, we might have a system that is more realistic and fair.

…[B]efore 1965 there were no numerical restrictions on immigration from countries of the Western Hemisphere, in keeping with the tradition of Pan-Americanism. When we imposed quotas on Mexico and the rest of the Americas after 1965, we got illegal immigration. (8)

I agree with her point that the quotas are in need of review. However, on the issue of supply and demand, I don’t think that the US market’s insatiable appetite for cheap labor needs to be encouraged. NAFTA and globalization have only increased the flood of undocumented workers into the US, and the trends don’t seem to be improving. Meanwhile, families are separated, villages are dying out, and cultures are undergoing violent and rapid change–for what? To meet the “needs of the United States.”

That is simply not true. The indigenous people of Mexico have been systematically and horrifically oppressed. Deprived of their land, forced to resettle in arid areas where they cannot farm, their children forbidden to speak their indigenous languages in schools, denied access to health care, discriminated against, and in the case of the indigenous groups who have revolted in southern Mexico, reviled as a danger and a threat to stability, they have a long tale of suffering that is only beginning to be told.

I spent two years arguing with a close friend from Monterey, Mexico over the conditions of the indigenous peoples. She claimed it was a misconception, that Mexico was no longer that way, and that Americans clung to ideas of poverty and injustice in Mexico because they didn’t want to accept that Mexico is becoming modern. In many ways, Mexico has had significant economic growth. On that count, she is correct. But even as capital becomes more available, the poor grow poorer. Why? Many reasons. As the wage market changes, there is less demand for unskilled workers. More efficient farming methods mean fewer agricultural workers are needed. American companies attempt to Walmartize prices on their imports, with the result that small businesses suffer. After all that time arguing, she came to me and told me that I was right after all. But, what a time commitment to help one person see!

I make no pretense to emotional distance from the plight of the poor in Mexico. I grew up with hungry and in some cases starving people. I had friends die because they had no access to healthcare. I watched people in the city dump fight over our garbage, hoping there’d be something edible. I watched the men in our village leave every year to follow the crops in the US in hopes of earning enough money to feed their families through another year. Bodies floated down the canal by our house, killed, it was said, by off-duty policemen. I also watched these people who suffered more every day than most Americans will suffer in their lives as they sacrificed for their families, laughed, loved, sang, and made the most of what they had.

People in my classes are undoubtedly tired of hearing me talk about migrant workers. I would have never expected to come into contact with the people I lived among in Mexico here in Oregon, but here they are. I hate that the conditions are so bad where they come from that their only choice is to come illegally to the US, be treated like animals in many cases, and greeted with hatred from Americans whose great emblem, the Statue of Liberty, has some no-longer relevant drivel about giving us the tired, the poor, and all those other non-valuable groups.

I also hate that they come here and face racism from fellow Latin Americans who aren’t indigenous. These, in many cases, have their papers, are politically active, educated, and integrated into American society. You’d think that they would see the suffering of their fellow Latin Americans and act, but reality is that racism cuts much deeper than that.

I’ve seen indigenous patients receive worse treatment at the hands of the mestizo employees hired for their Spanish abilities than from white Americans. That made me ill to see. It’s this very mentality that has allowed the suffering of indigenous peoples in Latin America to reach such heights–or perhaps depths would be the more apt term. The indigenous peoples’ concerns do not make it onto national agendas enough, and the people in power have no impetus to change, the US being famously unconcerned with the plight of the poor in Latin America unless it causes governments to be threatened.

Tonight, I attended a lecture sponsored by my school; the speaker was a tiny indigenous girl from Colombia, in her early 20s at best, who is one of the directors of a human rights advocacy group. She took over when the former leader of the group was imprisoned as a dissident. The Colombian government is carrying out incredible acts of oppression upon farmers and indigenous people, taking their lands, poisoning enormous tracts of agricultural areas with long-acting pesticides, massacring, imprisoning, torturing, collaborating with “paramilitary” forces, training children in militarism, allowing multinationals to plunder the natural resources and exploit the people.

The US government supports the Colombian government. Here we all say…what is wrong with them?

Sonia, the girl, talked about immense suffering, far beyond what I’ve seen.

Guess who the two people in the audience were who questioned whether she was telling the truth or whether her fact were right during the Q&A session? Two Latin American exchange students. One of them is a friend of mine. It tore my heart out that so many people have closed their eyes to what’s right in front of them, and that the racial prejudices that blame the “inditos” for what happens to them allow all responsibility to shift away from the people who are complicit in their poverty.

We all do it, though. Even if we don’t share the exact same racist pattern of thinking, we participate in a world system that lets us live in luxury while others die in want.

Sometimes it’s hard to live with myself because I could do more. I could always do more.

UNICEF statistics on Colombia Note especially how the wealth of the country is distributed and the disparity between urban and rural populations.
Plight of the indigenous peoples in Colombia
Human Rights Watch report on US funding despite HR violations Note: groups classified as terrorists by the Colombian government are often social advocacy groups who are in fact asking for an end to the violence.
Use of children by paramilitary In addition, the speaker indicated that the regular army is beginning to employ various tactics which the people fear will lead to involuntary service.
Poverty Statistics The IMF may not be good for a lot of things, but they at least generate some interesting statistics. Note the increase in poverty since 1995. Pesticides and indigenous agriculture

My current reading includes Paul Farmer’s brilliant Pathologies of Power; his work explores systemic injustice and its effects on the poor, especially in terms of basic human rights. Farmer has lived and worked as a physician in Haiti among the poor for over twenty years, and his vision of Latin America is piercing. The dehumanization of neoliberal thought, which has been blamed by many in Latin America for the increase in suffering and poverty, is one of his many well-articulated insights.

Farmer shows how neoliberal thinking ultimately constructs society as a machine and people as simply component parts; they are assigned value based on their production and contribution to this system, and there is no place for the poor. Furthermore, the “bottom line” triumphs over ethical concerns. This portrait shows capitalism at its cruelest and most oppressive, utterly unconcerned over the effects of globalization on the poor.

The US has been responsible for much political and economic suffering in Latin America, funding repressive governments, arming terrorists, enforcing trade embargoes, and, in terms of corporations, callously coming and going in search of ever-cheaper labor so that wealthier North Americans can continue their orgy of materialism. Urbanization in Latin America has brought with it stratospheric unemployment rates and social unrest. An El Salvadoran bishop pointed out that poverty has increased in his country through the presence of multinational corporations, despite the fact that they offer employment. The reason for this is that inflation bursts into bloom when a multinational corporation impacts an economy, and prices rise to the point that people can no longer afford electricity and food. Another problem is that such corporations contribute to economic instability by their refusal to negotiate any sort of contract with governments. If they find a cheaper labor source, they pack up and move. For people who have left their village land to seek employment in urban centers, this is devastating, and they have no recourse.

Given this suffering that we, in the national sense, are responsible for, should there be so much frenzy over illegal immigration? We, after all, are in many ways the cause of the poverty, suffering, and unrest in Latin America.