If you didn’t know any better, you might think, from recent media coverage, that the problem with Donald Trump’s proposal to round up and expel as many as 20 million immigrants is that it’s not likely to work.
The Republican presidential nominee has made the mass deportation pledge central to his case for a second term. On the campaign trail, he diverts every question, no matter what the issue, back to the supposed danger and malignancy of immigrants and the urgency of getting rid of them. The economy? It will be better when there are fewer immigrants competing for jobs, he says. Housing prices? They’ll come down when millions of people are kicked out of the country, he claims. Crime will come down when the immigrants are gone, he says, because murder is “in their genes”.
The vision he is offering is profoundly racist: Trump’s proposal, which is not limited to undocumented immigrants, is based on the assumption that nonwhite people are the cause of all of the US’s problems, and that everything that is wrong will be made right as soon as they’re gone. His proposed solution to everything – from crime to housing costs to inflation – is to deploy the armed forces to literally round up our friends, family members and neighbors by the millions, in a vast program of ethnic cleansing.
It is a terrifying, horrifically immoral, and contemptibly bigoted proposal; racist, indifferent to humanity, and hostile to the principles of pluralism and equality. If it was enacted, it would be among the worst human rights catastrophes of all time. It would destroy families and lives, tear communities apart, inculcate ethnic hatred and distrust. To be accomplished, it would also practically require tremendous amounts of violence and force. Some of those marked for forced removal would hide, and some of their friends would turn them in. Worksites and immigrant neighborhoods would be raided, as cops flooded in and innocent people scattered. Mothers and fathers would be ripped from the arms of their screaming children. There is no other way to accomplish what Trump wants to accomplish: what he is proposing would require atrocity.
For him, this may in fact be the point. At the Republican national convention last summer, the crowd in Milwaukee smiled as they held signs aloft reading “MASS DEPORTATION NOW”. Trump’s appeal has always been this vision of a future that, through violence, can be made to look more like what these people imagine of the United States’ past – namely, one with many fewer people of color in it.
But what is strange about the coverage of Trump’s mass deportation plan is how little its moral perversity has factored into coverage, either by the media or in the attacks lobbed at it by Democrats.
CBS and NBC, for their part, seem to have determined that Trump’s pivot to calling for a gigantic scale ethnic cleansing operation is not in itself newsworthy. Instead, they have run stories pointing out that the plan would be expensive and logistically difficult, with the federal enforcement agencies requiring an estimated $216bn in funding to deport the US’s roughly 11 million undocumented people over the next four years. (Ice, they note, received a comparatively paltry $9bn last year.)
Construction, agriculture, real estate development business leaders, they note, are skeptical at the idea, noting how much of their own labor force is composed of immigrants: they claim, probably correctly, that the move would lead to large increases in housing and food costs. And economists worry that the broader impact on the economy could be devastating: one economic thinktank found that deporting 1.3 million immigrants would reduce jobs for native-born workers, increasing unemployment by 0.8%.
For their part, the Harris campaign has largely taken this line on the issue, preferring to focus on Trump’s mass deportation plan not as a moral horror but as an irresponsible economic move. This is the line taken by Harris campaign surrogate and billionaire Mark Cuban, who has made the threats to the labor force posed by Trump’s plan a key part of his pitch to Harris-skeptical small business owners in swing states.
This all may be true enough. It is likely that a mass deportation effort would not only strain the resources of the federal government, but also gut the US private sector labor force, not to mention the disruptions it would cause to productivity when, say, an underslept mother is slow or weepy at her shift because the father of her children was taken from their home by goons. It is likely, too, that the number of jobs created by the mass deportation scheme – the cops and thugs who will be needed to round up the immigrants, the lawyers and judges who will be needed to shove them through the court system, the chefs and guards and drivers who will be needed to feed and transport and monitor them inside the internment camps that such a project will inevitably require – will likely not provide enough jobs to offset the lost tax revenue.
But there is something morally depraved about talking about Trump’s plan in these terms. The cost of mass deportation cannot be measured only in whether it will be beneficial or detrimental to the pocketbooks of native-born Americans: doing so supposes both that only those born in the US are worthy of concern, and also that the only thing we have to lose is money. What is being proposed is a vast cruelty, a human tragedy, and a costly national investment in racism. That we are speaking of this proposal in primarily economic terms, rather than moral ones, suggests that the cost to the US has already been quite high.
Moira Donegan is a Guardian US columnist
