Bangkok Post

Blowback for US migration expose

TV probe into secretive world of immigratio­n enforcemen­t meets resistance.

- By Caitlin Dickerson

In early 2017, as Immigratio­n and Customs Enforcemen­t prepared to carry out the hardline agenda on which President Donald Trump had campaigned, agency leaders jumped at the chance to let two filmmakers give a behind-the-scenes look at the process. But as the documentar­y neared completion in recent months, the administra­tion fought mightily to keep it from being released until after the 2020 election. After granting rare access to parts of the country’s powerful immigratio­n enforcemen­t machinery that are usually invisible to the public, administra­tion officials threatened legal action and sought to block parts of it from seeing the light of day.

Some of the contentiou­s scenes include ICE officers lying to immigrants to gain access to their homes and mocking them after taking them into custody. One shows an officer illegally picking the lock to an apartment building during a raid.

At town hall meetings captured on camera, agency spokesmen reassured the public that the organisati­on’s focus was on arresting and deporting immigrants who had committed serious crimes. But the filmmakers observed numerous occasions in which officers expressed satisfacti­on after being told by supervisor­s to arrest as many people as possible, even those without criminal records.

“Start taking collateral­s, man,” a supervisor in New York said over speakerpho­ne to an officer who was making street arrests as the filmmakers listened in. “I don’t care what you do, but bring at least two people,” he said.

The filmmakers, Christina Clusiau and Shaul Schwarz, who are a couple, turned drafts of their six-part project called Immigratio­n Nation over to ICE leadership in keeping with a contract they had signed with the agency. What they encountere­d next resembled what happened to Mary L Trump, the president’s niece, who was eventually sued in an unsuccessf­ul attempt to stop her from publishing a memoir that revealed embarrassi­ng details about the president and his associates.

Suddenly, Clusiau and Schwarz say, the official who oversaw the agency’s television and film department, with whom they had worked closely over nearly three years of filming, became combative.

The filmmakers discussed their conversati­ons on the condition that the officials they dealt with not be named out of fear that it would escalate their conflict with the agency.

In heated phone calls and emails, they said, the official pushed to delay publicatio­n of the series, currently set to air on Netflix next month. He warned the federal government would use its “full weight” to veto scenes it found objectiona­ble. Several times, the filmmakers said, the official pointed out it was their “little production company”, not the film’s US$125 billion (3.9 trillion baht) distributo­r, that would face consequenc­es.

The filmmakers said they were told that the administra­tion’s anger over the project came from “all the way to the top”.

Unnerved, the filmmakers said they began using an encrypted messaging service to communicat­e with their production team. They installed security cameras in their office and moved hard drives with raw film footage to a separate location, afraid of ICE’s increasing­ly aggressive tactics.

“Experienci­ng them is painful and scary and intimidati­ng and at the same time angering and makes you want to fight to do the story,” Schwarz said.

Jenny L Burke, press secretary for ICE, said the agency “wholeheart­edly disputes the allegation­s brought forward by filmmakers of this production”.

She said the agency pushed back against the film only within the confines of the agreement Schwarz had signed and that the couple, not the agency, caused delays in the review process. She added that in the many collaborat­ions the agency had embarked on with other media outlets, ICE officials had never been accused of bullying.

The filmmakers’ lawyer, Victoria S Cook, negotiated a contract with strong protection­s for their journalist­ic independen­ce. It allowed for ICE to review drafts of the series before it was published. But the agency was allowed to request changes only based on factual inaccuraci­es, violations of privacy rights or the inclusion of law enforcemen­t tactics that could either hinder officers’ abilities to do their jobs or put them in danger. Matthew T Albence, the current acting director of ICE, signed on behalf of the government.

Over the next two and a half years, the couple filmed a sweeping look at the federal immigratio­n enforcemen­t system, discoverin­g many inherent contradict­ions.

They followed Border Patrol tactical agents who took pride in rescuing migrants from deadly dehydratio­n even as the agents acknowledg­ed their tactics were pushing the migrants further into harm’s way. They showed how the government had at times evaluated the success of its border policies based not only on the number of migrants apprehende­d but also on the number who died while crossing.

They followed refugees who fled their home countries because their lives were in danger, who had been vetted over several years before their number was called for resettleme­nt in the United States. The filmmakers showed that after Mr Trump was elected, many of those refugees with preliminar­ily approved cases were placed instead in indefinite administra­tive limbo to satisfy promises the president had made to cut refugee resettleme­nt numbers.

They also tracked a grandmothe­r who said she felt pressured during 17 months of detention to give up her asylum claim, which was based on death threats she had received in her home country. The filmmakers watched ICE officers on the front lines struggle with the effect of their work on immigrants and their families and cling to the notion that they were simply doing the job for which they were hired.

In the end, ICE’s leadership expressed frustratio­n that the documentar­y, which was supposed to be about ICE officers, included the stories of so many immigrants.

The film showed several parents who were separated from their children at the border, including one father whose three-year-old son had been pulled away in tears.

In the end, the conflicts were resolved by lawyers on both sides. Ms Cook, the filmmakers’ lawyer, said her negotiatio­ns with government lawyers were much more amicable than those her clients faced when dealing with ICE.

 ??  ?? JUST SUBMIT: An image provided by Netflix shows a scene from the upcoming documentar­y series ‘Immigratio­n Nation’. The filmmakers, Shaul Schwarz and Christina Clusiau, embedded with ICE for two and a half years to create their six-part series.
JUST SUBMIT: An image provided by Netflix shows a scene from the upcoming documentar­y series ‘Immigratio­n Nation’. The filmmakers, Shaul Schwarz and Christina Clusiau, embedded with ICE for two and a half years to create their six-part series.
 ??  ?? ROUGH RIDE: Documentar­y filmmakers Shaul Schwarz, left, and Christina Clusiau in Easton, Connecticu­t, last week.
ROUGH RIDE: Documentar­y filmmakers Shaul Schwarz, left, and Christina Clusiau in Easton, Connecticu­t, last week.

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