At border, uptick in illegal crossings
By Daniel B. Wood | Staff writer of The Christian Science Monitor
TIJUANA, MEXICO - In all 24 lanes of traffic stopped at the spot where
Mexico meets America, idling cars stretch back toward Tijuana as
far as the eye can see. The wait is at least an hour to reach the checkpoint
and undergo inspection - a new reality of the US security
crackdown.
But that's a big improvement over the three hours it took to enter the
US in the days and weeks immediately following Sept. 11 - except for
one thing. As the delay here gets shorter, the number of illegal immigrants
attempting to sneak into the US - inside the trunks of cars,
strapped under seats, and even soldered inside wheel wells - is beginning
to tick upward again.
Illegal crossings here at the San Diego checkpoint, which plummeted from
about 900 to 170 a week after the terrorist attacks, have not
climbed back to pre-Sept. 11 levels. But apprehensions are unmistakably
on the rise in recent weeks, an indication, perhaps, that not even
one of the tightest border clampdowns in US history seems to be able to
permanently stem illegal immigration from south of the border.
There are a number of reasons for the increase. A temporary infusion of
20 additional Border Patrol agents - deployed here from other
assignments after Sept. 11 - ended two weeks ago. Then, too, the holiday
season is over, and more people south of the border are again
trying to go north in search of work. Finally, in a never-ending game of
"the weakest link," this checkpoint currently seems to be high on the
list of those who trade in human smuggling.
"They are always testing us, scoping us out, trying to overwhelm our weakest
point," says William Veal, chief of the US Border Patrol's San
Diego sector, a 66-mile swath of the border where, traditionally, more
than half of all illegal immigrants gain entry to the United States.
That's not to say the border is a wide-open sieve. In fact, it's much tighter
than it was eight years ago, before the US government began
"Operation Gatekeeper." Since then, there's been an 80 percent drop in
apprehensions here (from more than 500,000 a year to about
100,000) - an indication that fewer would-be immigrants were making the
northward trek.
Although Operation Gatekeeper has almost shut off the tide of illegal immigrants
who swamped these neighborhoods for years, the migrant
flow has spread east along the less-populated desert. It is also being
funneled through the legal front door - hidden from border inspectors in
gas tanks, under floorboards, and literally welded into dashboards.
"Prior to 9/11, the smugglers were overwhelming us [at the checkpoint],
targeting us with sheer volume," says Lauren Mack, spokeswoman
for the San Diego sector. Her office displays photos of immigrants sewn
into the upholstery of seats, or tied to engine blocks. "With the
added attention of 9/11, we have been able to virtually shut them down,"
she says, "but we don't know how long that can last without
additional manpower and technology."
The extra 20 agents assigned here after the terror attacks helped out by
wandering through the maze of waiting cars, tipping off customs
inspectors at the booths when they saw something suspicious. But those
agents have now returned to their real jobs, and the gain against
illegal entries is slipping - still down 30 to 60 percent from the previous
year, but not the 80 percent drop seen in the last months of 2001.
Illegal immigrants and those who smuggle them are close observers of the
Border Patrol's daily routine. "They know when the shifts change
or when we have low staff, so they flood they system," says Ms. Mack. The
ploy: Send in so many cars of illegals that all agents are
deployed in their capture, or so that detainees fill the holding facility.
Subsequent cars loaded with illegal immigrants simply pass the border
unscathed.
Smugglers chalk it up to the cost of doing business, says Adele Fasano,
San Diego district director for the Immigration and Naturalization
Service (INS), parent agency of the Border Patrol.
The Border Patrol has some new, high-tech arrows in its quiver, however.
Cameras check license-plate numbers on waiting cars, alerting
inspectors if drivers are wanted for crimes in California or other states.
Pedestrians crossing the border now must pass through metal
detectors and have parcels X-rayed, similar to procedures at airports.
Each is checked by a US agent.
One reason the wait at the checkpoint is shorter now is a nod to complaints
of trans-border students and business people, who say the
tight security was strangling local businesses. "The very long lines make
my life a hardship," says Angela Gomez, a teacher who lives in
Tijuana but teaches across the border. She says she sometimes stands in
line for two hours - each way.
While lanes are jammed at the legal entry point, the border to the east
has become increasingly difficult to pass. A ride with the Border
Patrol tells the story: Stadium-style lights shine over a 50- to 100-yard-wide
stretch of land separating two fences, now running inland for
several miles. The first prevents vehicles from getting through. The second
- a metal mesh that allows no grip - halts those trying to cross
on foot. "Since 9/11, we've seen very little activity out here," says the
Border Patrol's Ben Bauman.
Chief Veal says the Border Patrol's long-term strategy is to copy the approach
of Operation Gatekeeper: Deploy high numbers of agents to
a target border area, then gradually reduce the number after they win control
of that territory. The new emphasis, he says, is on the
US-Canada border.
Although no major new funding was slated for border security after Sept.
11, INS and Border Patrol officials say they're encouraged by the
attention from Washington. Attorney General John Ashcroft recently toured
the southern border, as has Rep. James Sensenbrenner (R) of
Wisconsin, a key House committee chairman. "We are seeing the support of
Congress and the administration in ways not seen before,"
says Veal. "That is a watershed event in itself."