Speaking Immigration Truth To Fat Cats
By Don Feder
[Don Feder
was a
columnist for The Boston Herald for
19 years, where he wrote frequently on
immigration. He is the author of
A Jewish Conservative Looks at Pagan America
and
Who's Afraid of the Religious Right? Feder
is currently doing political/media consulting through
Don Feder Associates and
planning to open a website
soon.]
Stupid White Men is the title of
Michael Moore’s latest screed against Republicans,
corporations and anything to the right of Kim Jong Il.
Still, Moore has a point (besides the one on his head).
America is run by Caucasian dudes with large portfolios
and low IQs. But, thanks to the immigration policies
these dummies defend, not for long.
I recently addressed the annual high-dollar-donor
event of a prominent, conservative group. Since I was
their guest, it would be bad form to be more specific.
Suffice it to say the group raises tons of money to save
Western Civilization by cutting marginal tax rates.
I was asked to speak on an immigration panel as the
designated ritual sacrifice. (Let’s all beat up the
rotten, racist xenophobe so we can bask in our own
nobility.)
The other panelists included two college
professors–who, despite their
disreputable occupations, actually made sense. One,
in discussing the history of immigration, noted the
Founding Fathers favored immigrants
like themselves–of English stock, who shared their
language and historical experience. The other, a
second-generation Chinese-American, said: Look, if we’re
to have immigration, for God’s sake let’s at least take
in immigrants we can use, as opposed to those with
fifth-grade educations, which we’re getting through
family
reunification.
The third panelist was a “conservative” writer whose
shtick is blaming it all on our
anti-assimilationist ethic. In essence, he argued
that if we could only get rid of bilingualism,
multiculturalism and anti-Americanism, we could easily
absorb all of the untrained, uneducated,
irredentists from south of the border who have
absolutely no desire to learn our language,
assimilate to our culture or identify with our
nation. (That’s my interpretation of his position.)
Mr. Blame-it-on-Multiculturalism showed his true
colors, when–in response to a question on dealing with
illegal immigrants–he whined: Well, you can’t just
round up these people in the middle of the night,
“like fascists.”
Instead, he suggested making a deal with the left
(can you guess what came next?): We’ll amnesty
illegals and the Gephardts and Daschles will graciously
give us effective control of our borders.
The Asian-American academic dryly responded that we
made that deal in
1986, but (surprise!) the lefties didn’t keep their
end of the bargain.
My race and gender grows stupider by the minute. Here
was an individual who holds himself forth as a
conservative, proclaiming that arresting those who
break our laws and spit on the Constitution (not to
mention jumping ahead of all the would-be legal
immigrants standing patiently in line for years) is akin to gas chambers
and torture cells.
As the cleanup speaker on the panel, I delivered one
of my typically cogent and witty, but forceful critiques
of the insanity of importing social Thalidomide. It
ended with a call for a five-year
moratorium while we rethink the whole bloody mess.
I was practically lynched.
The first hand that shot up was attached to the beefy
arm of a venture capitalist who said I should move to
France and join forces with
Jean-Marie Le Pen. (I was tempted to respond–but
then I’ll be an immigrant and I’ll have to hate
myself.)
By advocating policies to maintain our national
identity–by trying to keep out folks who think this
country’s history is a wretched chronicle of slavery,
genocide and exploitation—and that gringos are
trespassers in
California,
Texas and the
Southwest—I had marked myself as anti-American.
Mass immigration–love it, or leave the country.
I heard other equally enlightened defenses of a
nation sans borders. A questioner told me that
the newcomers (undocumented workers, don’t you
know) are “taking jobs Americans don’t want.”
The novelty of the argument left me speechless.
When I recovered, I rejoined that the solution, of
course, is for employers to offer American workers
American wages, instead of forcing society to subsidize
their low-income labor.
The great 19th century economist, Frederic
Bastiat, taught us that most government programs have
seen benefits and unseen costs. So it is with mass
immigration, a government program devised by
Ted Kennedy in 1965.
The beefy businessman and his brethren see Juan
coming here illegally and taking one of those proverbial
jobs the supposedly pampered native-born don’t
want–say, washing dishes. The
restaurant owner gets cheap, docile labor. Patrons
get cheaper meals.
What isn’t seen, except by the more discerning, is
Juan’s extended family who join him here–his elderly
mother who eventually ends up on SSI, his children who
are educated in our public schools, cared for in public
hospitals and supported by
AFDC and
food stamps, his teenaged son who joins a
Mexican gang–as well as the intangible costs of
having more residents who speak an alien tongue, live in
a different culture and maintain their loyalty to the
nation of their birth.
Then came a question from one of the organization’s
directors, a prominent retired politician. He told of
encountering a Vietnamese boat person in a refugee camp
in Hong Kong. When asked, through an interpreter, why he
risked a voyage in dangerous waters to escape his
homeland, the refugee produced a letter from his son in
the U.S. saying America is the land of freedom and
opportunity and the father must do whatever it takes to
get here.
The director delivered this homily with the air of
satisfaction of one who assumes he’s ended a debate,
once and for all.
I replied that surely my questioner understood that a
national immigration policy can’t be based on anecdotes.
His Vietnamese is no more typical of immigrants
generally than is the Egyptian who
shot up LAX a few weeks back, killing two people.
These are extremes. Reality lies in the middle. And that
reality is perceived not by our personal experiences
with immigrants or individual cases–positive or
negative–but on aggregate.
I might as well have had a conversed with the
numero uno special at my local Mexican restaurant.
These high-dollar donors (six-figures, minimum) had
assembled at a five-star resort–speaking of a pampered
existence–to have their gut feelings reinforced.
For rich white guys, immigration means
cheap domestic labor and the
industrial equivalent of field hands.
The immigrants they encounter on a daily basis smile
a lot–because they’re servants. Unlike low-income whites
and blacks, these high-dollar donors don’t live cheek by
jowl with the nitty-gritty of our immigration nightmare.
Their self-interest is dressed in
Nation-Of-Immigrants nostalgia, and served with a
side of Compassionate Conservatism.
I am consoled by the knowledge that they will–as they
age in an increasingly Third World America–eventually
encounter the consequences of their stupidity. Will they
be able to buy enough private security to protect them
in their gated communities?
Unfortunately, so will the rest of us.
Stupid white men, indeed.
July 30, 2002