By María del Sagrario Ramírez
Arizona Daily Wildcat
December 5, 1997

The 1950s Operation Wetback á la 1990s

Arizona Daily Wildcat María del Sagrario Ramírez

Walking down the mall with a friend the other day, I noticed more than the usual whispers and stares coming from my fellow students.

"Que onda con esta gente?" I said.

"It's all those articles you've been writing. What do you expect?" my friend said with a chuckle.

"Equal opportunity," I said sarcastically.

On my way home that night, as I turned the first corner toward my house, I noticed a car following close behind me. Rounding the second corner, I saw the sudden blue-and-red twirling of cop lights in my mirror. What had I done for this police officer to stop me?

Opening the door to get out of my car, the officer repeated three times, politely and quite firmly I might add: "Get back into your car!"

Although shocked, I complied. But suddenly, hypnotized by the twirling of the lights, I began to experience a dreaminess.

(Puff)

Unexpectedly, I heard the faint tapping on my car window.

"Hey!" I heard a voice. "Do you have your birth certificate? You know, your birtho certificado? Hob-la ing-gleso?"

"What?" I said to the Ernie-looking officer who was tapping on my car window.

"Do you have proof of citizenship?" he asked again. Proof of citizenship? Since when does anyone need proof of citizenship when stopped for a traffic violation?

"Excuse me officer, but why did you stop me?" I calmly asked, trying to recognize my surroundings and realizing that I wasn't in Tucson anymore.

"I don't need a reason to stop you!" he said. "Just the color of your skin tells me you don't belong here. Now show me proof of citizenship or be deported back to Mexico."

Deported? How was I suppose to show proof of citizenship? Neither my driver's license nor my social security card show I was born in California. How many people carry their birth certificates with them, unless they don't have identification?

"You have no probable cause to stop me," I said. "This is a violation of my civil rights, officer. Besides, do you carry your birth certificate?"

"I don't have too. I look like an American. Furthermore, I have every right to stop you! I could stand here butt naked with just a badge and this gun, and would still be the law," he yelled in my face. The stench of rotting breath clouded my senses.

"Besides, didn't get any training in civil rights mumbo-gumbo. Don't need special training to scare children and talk to foreigners."

"I'm a citizen and unless you have probable cause to detain me ..." I started to say.

"You must be an illegal, 'cause you don't know the law. You know, I don't understand you wetbacks," he said pulling out his night stick. "You want equal opportunity and equal treatment, but when we treat all you people alike, all you do is whine. Well, maybe you'll change your tone, missy, when we do a cavity check down at the station."

(Puff)

Suddenly, the tapping on the window woke me and I was back to the familiar surroundings of Tucson and parked in front of my house where the first officer had stopped me.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry for the inconvenience," the officer apologized. The Ernie-looking officer was gone.

"We had gotten a call that a car in this area and matching this description had just been stolen. Well, most cars have the steering column broken when they're stolen and, so, when you didn't use your turn signals back there, I just needed to check it out."

"What about my license and registration?" I asked.

"I don't need it. You're vehicle checked out just fine, thank you," the officer said walking away.

"So, you don't need proof," I asked still a little confused.

"No, not at all. But, hey, thank goodness you're not in Chandler, huh?" the officer said and grinned. "You'd need to prove more than just ownership of that car."

As ridiculous as it may sound, it happened. Hispanic residents of Chandler this past July, in a four-day sweep of the city, experienced this same racist humiliation when police officers and border patrol agents stopped them based solely on the color of their skin. Imagine, as a non-Hispanics, how you would feel being stopped on the mere assumption that they might be a Nazi because of your Caucasian features.

The illegal deportation of thousands of American citizens happened in the 1930s, when Secretary of Labor William N. Doak requested funds from Congress to begin the deportation of all Mexicans, legal and illegal, from the United States.

The raids continued into the 1940s and 1950s, as the "nativist/racist tradition of blaming the victim for inequality," was justified by the idea of keeping loyal only to American ideals and the non-acceptance of foreigners. Thus was born the McCarran-Walter Act of 1952 and Operation Wetback.

The end of the Korean War brought another recession and a call for a "pure America." Consequently, the round up of undocumented workers began, with Mexican workers being the unofficial target, regardless of residency status, by a militarized Immigration and Naturalization Service headed by Lieutenant General Joseph M. Swing.

Without American law to protect them, laborers and business owners used the immigration laws against undocumented workers by violating labor laws, often times demanding long work hours, paying low wages and having them deported before paying them. Both in the 1930s, and again, almost 65 years later, the civil and human rights of American citizens of color continue to be violated as INS and local police conduct unlawful sweeps of Mexican American communities, arresting, harassing and intimidating U.S. born Mexican American citizens.

It's commendable that Attorney General Grant Woods has had the courage to come forth, instead of covering up the outrageous incident, and publicly admit that this behavior is unacceptable.

María del Sagrario Ramírez is a senior majoring in Mexican American studies and journalism.