Politics
The Politics Over ‘Third Country Migrants’. Is America’s 1954’s Operation Wetback Echoing Through Modern Deportation Tactics Through Trump?
His inspiration is a controversial chapter from 1954 called Operation Wetback—a term steeped in racial insensitivity, targeting Mexicans who crossed the Rio Grande
As the calendar flipped to a new year, United States President-elect Donald Trump’s plans to implement the largest deportation operation in the nation’s history stirred up a storm.
His inspiration is a controversial chapter from 1954 called Operation Wetback—a term steeped in racial insensitivity, targeting Mexicans who crossed the Rio Grande. “They moved 1.5 million people out,” Trump declared. “We have no choice. We. Have. No. Choice.”
The proposed scale of Trump’s deportation campaign is staggering. With an estimated cost of up to $88 billion annually, details are still murky. What’s clear, however, is the ambition- removing at least a million individuals from the estimated 11 million undocumented migrants residing in the U.S. each year.
A Global Domino Effect?
Trump’s initiative isn’t just an American story—it’s a chapter in a global trend. Across the Atlantic, Europe is struggling with hardening borders, bowing to growing right-wing pressure. Even Canada, known for its liberal immigration stance, has started to recalibrate its policies.
Closer home, what about India? The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) has long flagged illegal immigration as a key concern. But with Indians forming the fourth-largest group of undocumented migrants in the U.S., New Delhi’s interest in Trump’s plans is confusing.
Bahamas Says No
Trump’s controversial approach also includes an unconventional twist – outsourcing deportations.
Reports revealed that his transition team explored sending deportees to “third countries” if their homelands refused to accept them. Among these proposed destinations was the Bahamas, which quickly nixed the idea.
In a firm statement, Bahamian Prime Minister Philip Davis’s office rejected the plan, citing the nation’s lack of resources. “The Bahamas simply does not have the resources to accommodate such a request,” the statement read, putting to rest further discussions with Trump’s team.
With a population of under 400,000, the Bahamas is dwarfed by the United States’ estimated 11 million undocumented immigrants. The logistical and ethical challenges of such a proposal were evident, and rights advocates have been vocal in their condemnation of the broader deportation plan.
Testing the Limits of Presidential Power
For Trump, implementing mass deportations won’t just be a logistical nightmare—it will test the very limits of presidential authority. Legal challenges are inevitable, and cooperation from foreign governments, as demonstrated by the Bahamas, is far from guaranteed.
Reports suggest other potential destinations include Panama, Grenada, and the Turks and Caicos Islands. But is it even feasible to execute such a large-scale operation, especially when faced with significant opposition from rights groups and international partners?
Trump’s Deportation Plans Reignite Old Fears
In 2019, during his first term, Donald Trump’s administration signed a controversial deal with Guatemala. The so-called “safe third country” agreement forced asylum seekers, who passed through Guatemala en route to the U.S.-Mexico border, to first seek refuge there.
This allowed the U.S. to deport migrants from other countries—like Honduras and El Salvador—to Guatemala instead of their home nations.
Now, as Trump prepares for his second term, questions regarding whether similar agreements will resurface and whether any nations will agree to host third-country deportees.
ACLU Sheds Light on the Shadows
The lack of transparency surrounding Trump’s deportation plans has raised significant concerns. Last month, the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) of Southern California filed a lawsuit against U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), demanding access to records on how deportation flights might be expanded.
Eva Bitran, the director of immigrants’ rights at the ACLU chapter, highlighted the toll such measures could take. “Little is known about how President-elect Trump would carry out his mass deportation agenda, but what we do know is that this proposal has already instilled fear among immigrant communities,” she said.
Her words are indicative of the human cost of such policies, which could sever families and destabilize communities, all while taxpayers foot the bill for deportation flights.
Mexico’s Dilemma
Meanwhile, Mexico, often caught in the crossfire of U.S. immigration policy, is seeking to avoid bearing the brunt of Trump’s deportation plans. Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum is working to ensure that migrants from other nations are sent directly to their countries of origin, rather than being rerouted to Mexico.
“We hope to reach an agreement with the Trump administration,” Sheinbaum said at a press conference. While Mexico has not outright refused to accept third-country deportees, Sheinbaum’s government is wary of becoming a dumping ground for migrants who don’t originate from Mexico.
In the past, Trump has used economic leverage, such as the threat of tariffs, to pressure Mexico into compliance. Whether such tactics will be revived remains uncertain.
Panama, meanwhile, has denied receiving any formal communication but made it clear that it is not obligated to accept third-country deportees.
The resistance from these nations reflects a broader hesitance to participate in the Trump administration’s mass deportation agenda, which faces both logistical challenges and ethical criticism.
Mexico’s Dual Role
Mexico plays a paradoxical role in U.S. immigration policy. On one hand, nearly half of the undocumented immigrants in the U.S. are Mexican nationals, according to government estimates. On the other hand, Mexico has cooperated with the U.S. by accepting migrants from countries like Cuba, Haiti, Nicaragua, and Venezuela—nations that the U.S. struggles to deport directly to.
Mexican Foreign Minister Juan Ramon de la Fuente recently visited an ICE center in Dallas, Texas, to meet with Mexican nationals being deported under the Biden administration. Speaking to reporters, he reassured his compatriots: “You are not alone.”
While Mexico prepares for the return of its nationals, Sheinbaum has emphasized the economic contributions of Mexican immigrants to the U.S., arguing that large-scale deportations are unnecessary.
Echoes of the Past
The shadow of Operation Wetback, the 1954 campaign may have forcibly removed 1.5 million individuals, but it also left a legacy of broken families, human rights violations, and criticism of its inhumane execution.
Trump’s proposed plan has revived old wounds, bringing to light the cyclical nature of immigration politics in America. As the world watches, the implications of his approach could ripple far beyond U.S. borders, influencing global attitudes toward migration and international cooperation.
The story of Mexican migrants in the United States is as old as modern America itself. From harvesting sugar beets in Minnesota to mining coal in Oklahoma, assembling cars in Detroit, and canning fish in Alaska, Mexican workers have been the backbone of America’s economy since the late 19th century.
Yet, this relationship has always been fraught with tension—none more emblematic than the infamous 1954 Operation Wetback.
Early Labor and Growing Isolationism
Mexican migrants filled the void in America’s labor market that other groups couldn’t—or wouldn’t—fill. As historian Francisco Balderama notes, prominent ranchers like Fred Bixby openly dismissed other immigrant groups, stating, “The Hindu is worthless, the Filipino is nothing, and the white man will not do the work.”
But America’s post-World War I mood shifted. The country retreated into isolationism, tightened immigration laws, and raised tariffs, especially after the Great Depression hit in 1929. Labor unions, seeing migrants as a threat to wages, pushed hard for their removal.
Under Labor Secretary William Doak, thousands of Mexican workers were repatriated, often forcibly, back across the border. The sheer scale of these efforts was staggering. In Los Angeles alone, 50,000 people were repatriated, many herded onto overcrowded trains. Conditions were so dire that Excélsior, a Mexican newspaper, reported deaths due to illness and malnutrition during the journeys.
The Second World War and the Bracero Program
World War II briefly reversed the trend. With American men drafted into the military, farms needed workers to fill the gap. The U.S. and Mexico struck a deal to implement the Bracero Program, bringing in seasonal agricultural workers under a regulated system.
But the partnership was with many contradictions. Even as American authorities deported illegal immigrants by the hundreds of thousands, they simultaneously issued work permits to others, creating a revolving door of migration. Deportees often found themselves re-hired with new work permits, a process cynically dubbed “drying out.”
Operation Wetback. The 1954 Clampdown
Amid growing political rhetoric about a “demographic invasion,” General Joseph Swing was tasked with leading Operation Wetback—a government effort to expel over a million illegal immigrants.
Swing declared victory within a year, but the operation’s legacy was marred by reports of human rights abuses. Families were separated, workers were rounded up indiscriminately, and many were sent back to harsh conditions in Mexico.
Employers, particularly landowners who depended on migrant labor, were furious. They accused the Border Patrol of acting like a “Gestapo outfit” that deprived them of willing workers. Their protests, combined with concerns about human rights abuses, led to the operation’s quiet conclusion in 1955.
A Legacy of Contradiction
Operation Wetback ended, but illegal immigration resumed almost immediately, reflecting the ongoing demand for migrant labor in the U.S. While the operation temporarily stoked fears of a migrant invasion, it failed to address the deeper economic realities that drive migration.
Even today, the echoes of Operation Wetback resonate in debates about immigration policy. As history shows, America’s relationship with its migrant workforce has always been a delicate balance of dependence, exploitation, and exclusion.
The lessons of 1954 – when politics override humanity, the consequences are felt for generations.
The Last Bit
Trump’s approach to immigration mirrors his first term’s hardline stance, evoking echoes of 2019’s “safe third country” agreements. They spark questions about the limits of power, the ethics of outsourcing deportations, and the human impact of these strategies.
For immigrant communities, the uncertainty ahead feels like déjà vu—as Trump’s plan unfolds, one can only hope that the lessons learnt from the past aren’t ignored.