Jonathan Blitzer’s Everyone Who is Gone is Here reassesses the role of the US in the immigration crisis at its border.
Since 28 February, newsfeeds have been inundated with updates of the US strikes on Iran, with more than 1300 people killed and 100,000 forcibly displaced. Meanwhile, in the US, ICE agents continue the brutal pursuit of the mass deportation initiative promised by the Trump administration. Jonathan Blitzer’s, Everyone Who is Gone is Here proposes a new perspective on the manufacturing of the modern crisis. The current, and past, US administrations have cruelly justified the enforcement of inhumane immigration policies by distributing disinformation in the form of horror stories, where immigrants are vilified and labelled illegal aliens. As conflicts in the Middle East continue to escalate and immigration policies in the US stray ever further from human rights law, it can be difficult to view these crises as anything other than an immediate issue. However, as Blitzer reveals, rather than happening to, the immigration crisis has actually been caused by US administrations.
In Blitzer’s compelling work of literary nonfiction, powerful personal testimonies are pivotal to plotting the historical political route of migration across Central and North America, arriving at the current state of the immigration crisis. Eloquently mapping the lived experiences of Central American migrants, politicians, and grassroots organisations on either side of the border, Blitzer guides readers through his investigation of the northern triangle — Guatemala, El Salvador and Honduras — and uncovers the hidden history which has shaped immigration towards the United States.
Establishing the roots of Central American mass migration in Cold War politics, Blitzer asserts that, scared of the spread of Cold War communism, Eisenhower’s administration supported military dictatorships in order to prevent leftists from gaining political power in Central America. Military aid was later expanded by subsequent government administrations. For Juan Romagoza, a Salvadoran medical student in the 1980s, this resulted in his capture by the military. While administering health care to villagers isolated from medical services due to the ongoing violence, soldiers accused him of being a guerrilla commander, “believing” his medical equipment was weaponry. He was brutally tortured over the course of 22 gruelling days, leaving him with life-changing injuries. Narrowly escaping death, and the regime, Romagoza fled to the US, first travelling through Guatemala and Mexico, settling in Washington where he was eventually granted political asylum four years later. Referring to the state as “the capital of the empire which drove me from my home” in conversation with Blitzer, Romagoza vehemently condemned the US for contributing to conflicts which forced thousands from their homes.
Although his torturers had promised that he would “never practice medicine again”, Romagoza became the director of a free health care clinic in Washington for undocumented immigrants who could not access essential health care in the US. Known as La Clínica del Pueblo, Romagoza ran and coordinated the clinic’s operations, also leading group therapy sessions for others who had fled under similar conditions, finding themselves in the very nation that created the crisis, and was now denying their humanity.
From individual stories, which mirror those of thousands of others, Blitzer extracts the broader pattern of US involvement in international politics, humanising the consequences of US foreign policy to enrich readers’ understanding of global refugee crises. A crucial characteristic of this pattern, Blitzer highlights, is that, despite short-term geo-political strategies employed by the US which create cycles of displacement and long-term humanitarian crises, US administrations consistently emerge relatively unscathed. As the all too familiar pattern re-emerges in the current crisis in the Middle East, deteriorating at the hands of the Trump administration, the Middle East now also risks facing the consequences of this unforgiving cycle.
The coup d’état in Iran in 1953, backed by the CIA, was similarly justified by the imminent threat of communism during the Cold War. The coup resulted in the expulsion of the democratically elected Prime Minister, Mohammed Mossadegh, and the reinstatement of the Shah’s regime. Although the regime resulted in rapid economic development due to the US-backed oil expansion, it posed far more serious threats to democracy and the protection of human rights in the country. As ideological opposition to the regime grew, repression by the regime multiplied, relying on censorship and surveillance to control its citizens. Protesters were subject to illegal detention and inhumane torture tactics, which were reproduced in Central America. Political unrest eventually erupted in the Iranian Revolution, overthrowing the monarchy and establishing an Islamic Republic which rejected decades of US interference and Western influence over its politics. The political intervention from the US forced more than two million to flee, and, as Washington quickly shifted from friend to foe, regional tensions were reinforced, culminating in escalated conflicts within the Middle East.
Blitzer addresses this globally repeated pattern, where US intervention prioritises strategic interests, through the intersection of interference across multiple borders, exposed by the Iran-Contra affair. The affair revealed that the US had illegally sold arms to Iran in the Iraq-Iran war, while simultaneously supporting Iraq, in order to weaken the stance of both nations while protecting the best interests of the United States — oil. The Reagan administration sneakily diverted some of the profits to the Nicaraguan Contras, encouraging the war against the Sandinistas, which led to over 22,000 deaths.
Although the last Central American civil war, in Guatemala, ended in 1996, political instability and widespread violence continue to characterise the area. Blitzer analyses the spike in gang-related violence and organised crime which are now key drivers of migration towards the US. In an intense crackdown on gang violence, the Street Terrorism and Enforcement Prevention Act made it illegal to be affiliated with a gang, which the anti-gang branch of the LAPD used to defend the mass deportation of young Central Americans. Post-civil war societies in Central America were still politically unstable and weak law enforcement resulted in a severe lack of reintegration programmes for deportees. As Blitzer clarifies, this had a catalytic effect on the increased violence in Central America as the mass deportations brought gang networks to the continent, where new members were recruited, expanding overseas connections.
Blitzer uses Eddie Anzora’s experience to highlight the consequences of the Prevention Act in both North and Central America, where poignant storytelling which resonates with readers makes perplexing policies accessible to a much wider audience. Growing up in South Los Angeles, one of the biggest gang hubs in the US, Anzora fell victim to a law passed in 1996 which expanded the list of crimes that could lead to deportation, even if they had previously been granted permanent residency or held a green card. Arrested for drug possession with intent to sell at 18 years old, and realising he would face deportation, Anzora spent six years outsmarting the US authorities before he was caught and deported to El Salvador, which was, by then, rampant with violence. Americanised outcasts, deportees in El Salvador were easy targets for gangs, who assumed they held affiliation, as a result of the US’ extreme actions to clean up the streets of LA.
Since the establishment of ICE as a specialist branch of the Department of Homeland Security in 2003, unjust arrests and deportations, such as Anzora’s, have increased exponentially, accompanied by a rise in unlawful violence and murder perpetrated by ICE agents. As the current Trump administration continues to push policies based on claims that all Central American migrants are gang members and criminals bringing ‘crime and drugs and death’, it not only disregards the significant role of the US in cruelly creating the violent conditions which many endeavour to escape, but also ensures the continuity of the cycle uncovered by Blitzer’s work.
However, the US response to the crisis also goes beyond simply shaping the lived experiences of Latinx migrants — it actively influences which voices are amplified and which are suppressed. Although Blitzer acknowledges his privilege, using his prominent platform to highlight the severity of the humanitarian crisis by centering stories from the Latinx community, the extensive visibility afforded to Everyone Who is Gone is Here mutes the voices of others. Central American and Latinx writers, such as Gloria Anzaldúa, Reyna Grande and Javier Zamora, have been sharing their experiences for decades, with powerful prose rooted in personal experience. It is imperative that Latinx voices control their own narrative, which has too often been twisted. In a literary landscape dominated by mainstream media, these competing narratives reflect the broader political landscape which creates these power imbalances.
As US administrations continue to produce foreign policies that dehumanise and displace innocent populations, highlighted by Everyone Who is Gone is Here, they reinforce vicious cycles of suffering, conflict and displacement, from Central America to the Middle East. The objective this time around is unclear: regime change, finding new markets for American oil or an attempt to keep Trump and Netanyahu out of the courts. Whatever the motivation, it is guaranteed that the wave of immigrants who flee to Western democracies as a result will not be welcomed. As Blitzer warns, political decisions made today translate to tomorrow’s humanitarian crises.
Image Credit: KJZZ
