EL PASO, TX —Yesterday, we were told by reports and shown in videos and photographs about two thousand people walked past the barriers at the Mexican entrance to the Paso del Norte bridge, a bridge that is suspended above the concrete riverbed fashioned for the Río Grande, the borderline between the two countries, Mexico and the United States. Now, understand that it takes very little to cross the river to the West Texas city known as El Paso from the much larger Mexican city known as Juárez. Those of us who have watched the river have seen whole families and groups of families step gingerly across that foul trickle that is all that is left after its redesign and redirection.
But we are told these people, mostly Venezuelans, chose the bridge, where they were greeted with concertina wire, concrete barriers, and heavily armed agents of the United States. A standoff ensued, and the other two bridges were closed down, stopping the usual exchange of people and goods for a few hours. The news reports mostly suggested that the precipitating cause for this event was a rumor that applications for amnesty would be accepted and that the long, dangerous wait imposed on seekers of this mercy was to be suspended. No word yet comes to us on the origin of this rumor.
A few reports refer to this event as a riot by migrants, and indeed the Twittersphere is replete with frantic calls for increased protection of military variety to keep us safe from these people who came to the bridge. Watching the videos, seeing that some of the people were clutching infants and small children made me worry far more for the migrants themselves, who, forced into this narrow roadway, seemed in danger of being trampled and having their skin torn by the sharp knife edges of the wire that is strung in many places like these, called ports of entry. Of course, predictably, waves of hatred accompany stories like this. The narratives, which originate miles from the borderlands, paint such people as invaders and worse. Those of us who take the time to look at the faces of migrants for a better life know that these are false narratives. I am speaking to the choir and need not belabor this here. But here is something I want to point out. The choice of the bridge indicates that these folks chose the route that, if the rumors had any truth to them, would have given them a chance at a legally sanctioned entry to the US. And the alternative, rushing across that fetid creek, despite giving at least some of them a much better chance at avoiding capture, was not chosen. We need to think about that choice.
But let me go even further, and flip this event on its head. People came to a bridge on their journey from where their families suffered, a trip to where they hoped to live, work, and thrive. They carried no weapons. People holding weapons capable of tearing apart their bodies and their children’s bodies confronted them, standing behind concrete barriers and razor wire, forbidding them to cross. Watch this from 10,000 feet, and tell me what you see. Or better still, look at their faces.
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Riot my ass. The chickens are coming home to roost.