The Central American Nightmare

A new caravan of Central American migrants arrived in Guatemala, making their way to the Mexican border, from where they will try to make their way to the United States. More than 4,000 people are fleeing violence, poverty, hunger and a total lack of opportunities.

On a social network, I saw the phrase, “They’re not looking for the American dream, but fleeing the Central American nightmare.” Stories recorded by fellow journalists who are covering the migration, along with testimonials being collected by organizations that seek to protect the rights of migrants, leave no room for doubt: These people have no choice but to leave their homes. They are leaving their countries because they have no other options.

“I can’t go back to Honduras,” said a young mother carrying a small girl in her arms. “If they send us back, we’ll be killed. They’ve told us as much.” She gave this testimony before crossing the Suchiate River. That horrible. That dramatic. That matter of fact. She and her partner—both young and with a two-year-old baby—are risking their lives in order to save their lives. “We don’t want anything gifted to us,” stated another young man traveling alone. “The only thing we want is to be able to work.” His story, like countless others, reveals his suffering for a loved one—in this case for his mother, who is ill, and who is unable to afford both the medicine and the treatments needed to get well. “Once I’ve earned enough, I’ll go back,” he said. “On my knees, I beg you to let me continue.”

One after another after another the stories continue, thousands of experiences of exodus from our failed countries, from unequal histories, from corrupt politicians and from slovenly and greedy elites who seek personal wealth and abuse their privileges. Interesting, then, that looking at the numbers, it turns out that much of the money sent back to our countries from emigrants is holding up a large part of our local and national economies.

In this matter of migration, as often happens, we come up against a schizophrenia of scripts. Even that idea of “bad hombres” (bad men), expounded by the xenophobic president of the U.S., has taken up residence in Guatemala in order to justify the hate, persecutions and violence of anti-immigration policies.

We also have our own “Trumps,” who despise, calumniate and denigrate migrants, calling them “violent, criminals and bums” in order to justify treating them poorly and ignoring them. This type of speech, charged with hate and dehumanization, only serves to feed discrimination and xenophobia against people migrating, as well as against those who help them. Threats against Fr. Mauro Verzeletti and against staff at the Casa del Migrante (Migrant House) are born in this type of speech. It goes without saying that those who bear the responsibility for fomenting this hatred are those who use microphones, cameras and pens to generate and spread violence and abuse toward migrants.

Of course, in order to resolve the migratory crisis, thoughtful actions must be taken that pay close attention to the causes of mass migration. This is the responsibility of the governments of countries whose citizens are migrating.

But this responsibility does not negate the cruel role that Donald Trump has played in laying the tracks of violence, blackmail and extortion. Neither does it negate the deplorable action taken by the government of Andrés Manuel López Obrador against the most recent caravan of immigrants. Using repression and criminalization, even as a response to pressure from the gringo government, is a violation of human rights. Furthermore, such a response breaks with Mexico’s traditional posture toward immigrants and refugees, contradicting its ideals as a progressive government of the left. This is never the correct way forward.