The author grew up in Calexico, California.
Mark Twain once stated, “God created war so that Americans
would learn geography.” Due to recent events, “earthquakes” can be added to
that statement. In the past few months, the U.S. public has been exposed to
news about countries often neglected by the media. These include Haiti and
Chile, which suffered crippling 7.0 and 8.8 magnitude earthquakes,
respectively.
 Separation wall, Calexico, Calif. Photo: Maurice Sherif |
The vast devastation and
death tolls suffered by these countries drew mass media attention to the
suffering of the people, but little was done to address the larger social,
political and economic history of the regions. After millions of dollars were
donated and celebrities exhausted their compassion, these countries and their
suffering masses faded from view.
On Sunday, April 4, the
border town of Calexico, a city almost unheard of in California, and especially
in the United States, was put in the national spotlight after experiencing a
7.2 magnitude quake. The quake, whose magnitude was larger than Haiti’s
devastating earthquake, brought previous images of destruction back into the
U.S. public’s minds.
Fortunately, no lives were
lost, and substantial property damage was avoided on the U.S. side of the
border. But the sister Mexican city of Mexicali was not so fortunate. While
only separated by a heavily reinforced steel wall, the damage experienced on
one side of the barrier in Calexico stood in stark contrast to the other side
in Mexico’s Mexicali.
Mexicali, a vast desert city
with close to one million residents, compared to Calexico’s 35,000, had two
deaths and 233 people reportedly injured. Lack of access to water, electricity
and gasoline was experienced throughout the city. Border crossing was
interrupted, which made it difficult for people to come to Calexico to escape
the damage caused by the quake. The general hospital had to evacuate its
patients, and the injured were treated in the parking lot.
As of April 5, Mexico’s
President Felipe Calderon announced plans to visit Mexicali, and the governor
of Baja California, José
Guadalupe Osuna Millan, requested a declaration of natural disaster to solicit
funds from the federal government.
Two cities, one dividing line
In Mexicali and Calexico,
just as in Haiti, economic neglect and sabotage were not natural disasters that
forced many people to live in poverty and dismay. For years the two cities and
the larger Imperial Valley have faced vast economic and social changes
determined by politics hundreds of miles away.
NAFTA, immigration
enforcement, the militarization of the border, the “war on drugs” and the
mortgage bubble have had serious consequences on the development of the region
and been detrimental to the everyday lives of citizens on both sides of the
border.
Prior to the earthquake, the
Imperial Valley had not been in the national spotlight since last year, when
CNN stated that El Centro, the county’s capital located less than 10 miles
north of Calexico, had one of the nation’s highest official unemployment rates,
a depression-era figure of over 30 percent. The region, largely dependent on
Mexicali consumers, has been decimated during the Great Recession, or what many
would consider another Great Depression.
Prior to the 9/11 attacks,
the relationship between the border towns was one of co-dependence. The chain
link fence was only a symbolic separation wall, since most residents of the
Imperial Valley had relatives in Mexicali and traveled to Mexicali on a daily
basis for business and leisure. The same could be said of Mexicali residents.
However, after the 9/11 attacks, with the rise of security concerns over “our
open borders” and the paranoia directed towards foreigners, the border crossing
between Mexicali and Calexico changed dramatically.
More stringent enforcement
led to three- or four-hour border crossing lines compared to the previous one-
or two-hour waits. The U.S. Border Patrol, later consolidated into the Department
of Homeland Security, changed its attitude towards Mexicali residents. Our
neighbors, who once were welcomed into the valley, were now seen as “invaders.”
Heavily armed checkpoints arose throughout the valley. It was common to see
“agents” carrying assault rifles and interrogating anyone they deemed
“suspicious.” New and more expensive documentation was needed to travel back
and forth between the sister cities.
The once symbolic chain link
border fence was transformed into a state-of-the art apartheid wall of steel.
Where once families could speak to one another through the fence, now they were
completely cut off by thick metal plates and 20-foot steel columns. All along
the border where families have lived for years, Homeland Security began to
patrol day and night, clearly suspicious of any bystander. Curfews were
implemented throughout the city of Calexico, preventing many from being out
after 10 p.m.
The workers’ struggle has no borders
Today, unlike the destruction
caused by the recent earthquakes, the economic crisis has left the region with
long-term problems that temporary aid and the erection of new buildings cannot solve. Nowhere can the
contradictions of the discourse surrounding immigration and “national security”
be seen more clearly than in areas such as the Imperial Valley and Mexicali.
These regions do not see each other as hostile to one another but as interdependent. It is clear that workers’ struggles have no real
borders and that treating Mexicans as invaders is a racist, nationalistic excuse
to maintain a state of poverty and fear over a whole people.
The Party for Socialism and
Liberation stands in solidarity with our brothers and sisters of the Imperial
Valley and Mexicali. We will continue to fight for the tearing down of all
walls that divide the working class, from Palestine to Calexico.
