A frightening place to wait
Despite its name, the Trump administration’s Migrant Protection Protocols program has left many aslyum-seekers stuck for months in Mexican cities like Juárez, where the violence and conditions can be just as bad as what they fled from at home
When drug traffickers killed Joseph Banegas’ cousin in the coastal Honduran city of Puerto Cortes two months ago, the 26-year-old was afraid he might be next. He and his wife, Sarai, didn’t want to raise a family while fearing for their lives, so they packed up and set out for the safety of the U.S., his stepson and 3-month-old baby in tow.
But when the Honduran family finally completed the final stretch of their long journey three weeks
later — crossing the dry Rio Grande riverbed into Texas — their elation turned to disillusion when U.S. immigration authorities gave them unwelcome news.
“They said unfortunately there’s a new policy and you have to wait in Mexico,” Banegas said, holding his baby outside a Mexican migration office a week after being sent back to Juárez. “We didn’t know how this worked.”
Until recently, most asylum-seekers like Banegas could wait out their lengthy legal processes in the U.S. once they touched American soil. That began to change in January when the Trump administration
rolled out the Migrant Protection Protocols in California, a program that requires most asylum-seekers to stay in Mexico while waiting for their immigration court hearings.
The scope of the program has increased dramatically since then — expanding in March to the El Paso port of entry, and to the Brownsville, Texas, crossing earlier this month. Last month, the Mexican government also agreed to deploy thousands of National Guard troops to help stop migration at its southern and northern borders.
U.S. authorities say the program, also known as “Remain in Mexico,” has helped reduce the volume of Central American migrants crossing into the U.S. to seek asylum, giving some relief to detention centers and makeshift shelters erected in New Mexico cities like Deming, which overflowed amid a greater influx of migrants earlier this year.
But as far as the protection of migrants is concerned, the program’s impact often has been the opposite of what its name might suggest.
By waiting in violent border cities like Juárez, migrants are exposed to the threat of assault, kidnapping and homicide — the very dangers many were fleeing in their home countries. Legally, it’s a problem for them as well: Asylum-seekers have trouble accessing American lawyers who can represent them while they’re in Mexico, making it more difficult for them to prevail when they do get called to hearings.
There’s an infrastructure problem, too. Mexico doesn’t have a robust system of shelters to handle the influx, and many migrants have trouble finding adequate accommodations, food and health care. Additionally, it’s summer, and temperatures can easily top 100 degrees in the Juárez area.
“They don’t have family relationships and they don’t have a community support structure,” said Fernando Garcia, director of the El Paso-based Border Network for Human Rights. “They are also sent to places where there’s no water or food. It’s a lie that the Mexican government is well-prepared for this.”
After Banegas, his wife, stepson and their baby crossed the border with a group of 20 migrants, they were detained and processed by U.S. immigration authorities, given a court date in El Paso for October, then sent back to Juárez.
They took refuge at one of the city’s church-run shelters, where they get two meals a day. The shelter is over capacity, however, so many families sleep in its church on mattresses squeezed between the pews, which they move aside when it’s time for church services.
On Monday, the couple ventured out to try to get access to state-funded medicine for their baby, who had fallen ill during the long journey through Guatemala and Mexico. They also sought work permits from a government office so they could start making money and buy clothes.
Their search wasn’t fruitful that day. They also weren’t sure it was a good idea to be walking around the intimidating city with their baby, given the many tales of shootings and kidnappings circulating among the migrants in their shelter.
“It’s very dangerous here,” Banegas said. “This is why we left Honduras — because there was shooting all around us.”
The U.S. Department of Homeland Security said earlier this month that efforts such as the Migrant Protection Protocols had helped reduce the number of apprehensions on the Southwest border by 28 percent in June compared with May.
“These initiatives are making an impact,” the department said in a statement, adding the expansion of the Migrant Protection Protocols and coordination with Mexico would allow the U.S. “to more effectively assist legitimate asylum-seekers and individuals fleeing persecution.”
Yet most asylum-seekers have been unable to escape the threat of persecution in Mexico, though the government’s “guiding principles” for the migrant protection program say that “any alien who is more likely than not to face persecution or torture in Mexico” should not be sent back to that country.
For instance, the research group Hope Border Institute reported 84 percent of asylum-seekers staying in Mexico have expressed fear of persecution there during their court proceedings in El Paso, yet only 5 percent have been taken out of the program and allowed to stay in the