ICE uses sheriffs to detain undocumented immigrants
Frederick County Sheriff Chuck Jenkins had spent years advocating for the removal of undocumented immigrants when he received a prized photo in his inbox in February 2019. It came from a group that has long fought to slash the number of immigrants allowed into the United States.
In the photo, Jenkins and more than three dozen other sheriffs posed under a chandelier in the East Room of the White House with a beaming President Donald Trump and Vice President Mike Pence.
Jenkins, serving his fourth term as sheriff in the western Maryland county, quickly forwarded the photo to an acquaintance. “Check this out,” he wrote in an email obtained by the Washington Post.
“Pretty important!” she replied moments later. “You all meet to discuss how to get rid of the illegals?”
“Indeed!” Jenkins wrote back. “I have had the pleasure of being with the Pres on at least five occasions.”
The White House gathering in September 2018 was part of a two-day media and lobbying blitz by the Federation for American Immigration Reform to promote border control and immigration enforcement, including a contentious national program known as 287(g) that for years has drawn support from Jenkins and other sheriffs.
Operated by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, the program empowers state and local law enforcement officers to act with federal authority: questioning, reporting and detaining undocumented immigrants. Although ICE promised that the program would focus only on serious criminals, pro-immigration groups have repeatedly warned that the partnerships enable hard-line sheriffs to target undocumented immigrants leading peaceful lives.
Despite mounting concerns about discriminatory policing, the Trump administration aggressively recruited local law enforcement partners and courted sheriffs who championed similar views on immigration policy, according to dozens of internal ICE emails obtained by the Washington Post.
“Gents — please forward up the chain to whomever handles the 287(g) stuff,” an ICE officer emailed in 2017. “Barnstable County is interested in at least hearing the sales pitch.”
“He could hit a huge area all at once,” an ICE officer wrote after a colleague suggested attending a monthly meeting of local law enforcement officers in Pennsylvania. “I think we can arrange a similar situation in Delaware.”
Under Trump, the number of partners in 287(g) and a related program quadrupled, from about 35 in 2017 to more than 140 earlier this year. About 15 are sheriffs who have been publicly linked to FAIR, which has been described by pro-immigration groups and others as an anti-immigrant organization. FAIR has disputed that characterization.
Earlier this year, the U.S. Department of Homeland Security terminated a long-standing 287(g) agreement with the sheriff’s office in Bristol County, Mass., where officers at the local jail used a stun grenade, pepper balls and dogs on immigrant detainees who protested conditions during the coronavirus pandemic.
Immigration advocates have appealed to the Biden administration to terminate the program altogether. Biden promised during his campaign to “end the Trump administration’s historic use of 287(g),” but no plan has been announced. The administration has laid out new enforcement priorities that will likely lead to far fewer deportations under the program and others.
As immigration arrests in the interior of the United States fall to their lowest level in years, activists say the partnerships are an unnecessary and unjust vestige of prior administrations. Concerns about the program have been documented for years in numerous media reports and by immigration policy analysts and civil rights groups.
“The federal government has been willing to sign agreements with essentially anyone willing to join them,” said Jorge Loweree, the policy director for the American Immigration Council. “Frankly, we don’t believe that there’s a meaningful way to actually create accountability. There’s just no reason to go down this road anymore. It’s immigration enforcement by dragnet, essentially.”
The process has separated families and created bureaucratic, legal and financial challenges for those detained or deported. Undocumented immigrants describe lives confined to the shadows: families that choose not to go to hospital emergency rooms or report domestic violence and other crimes because they fear any contact with local law enforcement.
“You’re living with the grace of God, constantly worried the cops are going to show up,” said a 48-year-old undocumented worker who did not want to be identified because he lives in Hall County in Georgia, a 287(g) partner since 2008. “It’s a constant fear. Nobody can protect you.”
ICE has hailed the 287(g) program as a “force multiplier,” a critical alliance to root out those deemed eligible for deportation. The agency’s website describes dozens of people arrested or convicted of serious crimes who since 2019 have been identified by local law enforcement as undocumented immigrants.
In response to questions from the Washington Post, ICE said it “continually evaluates the overall effectiveness of the program” and provides strict oversight of local partners. “While the 287(g) program has yielded successes, ICE recognizes the program is not universally regarded as the most effective or appropriate model for all stakeholders or in every jurisdiction,” the agency said.
Jenkins and other sheriffs say the program has helped protect their communities. “I believe in my heart of hearts that this is a public safety benefit to the country, to the county and to this community,” said Jenkins, 65, in an interview.
Sheriffs point out that their power under the program is limited, applying only to undocumented immigrants who are arrested on non-immigration-related offenses and taken to jail. There, under 287(g), they can be questioned about their immigration status, investigated, put into the removal process and held on detainers until ICE takes custody of them.