This post was originally published on this site.
American xenophobia is as old as the United States. For most of America’s history there has not been a coherent immigration system. It was not until the late nineteenth century that a bureau of immigration was even formed. While immigrants from China, Mexico, and parts of the Caribbean would come to the United States throughout this period, they were explicitly barred from becoming American citizens. These communities were administratively excluded and routinely met with violence. Chinese men, for example, were first recruited and hired as laborers on America’s railroads. Despite their contributions toward building American transportation and economic development, these men were often targeted for economic exploitation and racism. This included being deemed a threat responsible for the degradation of American culture and values. The “yellow peril” manifested as stereotypes used to signify the hazard an Asian presence posed to American values. This manufactured fear transformed the public image of Asian migrants from hardworking laborers into deviants, incapable of assimilation with an appetite for white women. The pain inflicted by these racist tropes was the point. The United States government institutionalized this pain by barring Asian immigration via key legislations in 1875 and 1882. Even with legislative reform, this pain was resurrected during the COVID-19 pandemic where phrases like “Kung Flu” were used to once again target Asian Americans for violence. That practice of branding migrants as a perpetual “other” has reemerged in the 2024 presidential election.
During the September 2024 presidential debate, Republican nominee Donald Trump repeated the lie that “In Springfield, they’re eating the dogs. The people that came in. They’re eating the cats. They’re eating — they’re eating the pets of the people that live there. And this is what’s happening in our country. And it’s a shame”. The former president and his supporters positioned Springfield, Ohio as the latest symbol of a broken immigration system that supposedly leaves Americans—particularly white Americans— socially, politically, and economically vulnerable. While this was the most incredible of anti-immigrant accusations dropped during the debate, it overshadowed the dangerous nexus of xenophobia and anti-immigrant rhetoric. Bomb threats and other promises of violence prompted increased security for hospitals, schools, and other local institutions. Leveraging racial resentment to manufacture white support and undermine democracy is not a new tactic. This combination of fear, resentment, and anger was largely the impetus for the Red Summer of 1919, a series of 26 race riots that injured over 500 people and decimated Black communities. It also motivated the coup attempt on January 6, 2021. The southern strategy, best articulated by the modern Republican movement, no longer relies on overt racial language. Rather, the use of racial dog whistles like “states’ rights” and “illegal aliens” halts demographic progress.
Racial resentment, however, is not limited to white people. It is the inheritance of all those socialized by white supremacy to see newcomers as threats. This includes Black communities. Anti-immigrant rhetoric has appeared in Black communities for a century, but this rhetoric has largely resulted in a general sense of ambivalence toward newcomers rather than having a direct impact on voting behaviors. For example, the popular slogan “Make America Great Again” was read by some as a call to make America white again in the wake of increased immigration and demands for greater integration. Scapegoating immigrants for everything from crime to unemployment has proven an effective strategy for maintaining racial exclusion and political power in local, state, and federal elections. That it remains a popular political strategy despite the overwhelming evidence that immigrants are law abiding, tax paying  members of our society is dangerous. Â
The deep roots of xenophobia are best reflected in earlier immigration policy that confined “legal” immigrant status to those coming from Western European nations. It was not until the civil rights wins of the 1960s that we see a substantial overhaul of our immigration system. For the first time, the complexion of immigrants better reflected the diversity of the world’s population. While this law opened the door to non-European immigration, anti-immigrant sentiment has remained along with the mobilization of xenophobia for political convenience.
Despite calling itself a “nation of immigrants,” xenophobia has existed alongside this myth. This type of racism is mutable but ever present. Xenophobia often informs and is accompanied by policy such as demands to construct the Border Wall, the Muslim Ban, and Title 42 that allows the federal government to take emergency action that limits asylum status. Xenophobia does not belong to any one racial group or political party. Itis the province of those seeking dominance over others who seek a share of America’s promise. While anti-immigrant rhetoric may win elections, it weakens the value of citizenship and inclusion. As an ideology, the pain of xenophobia is the point.Â
Dr. Niambi M. Carter is an associate professor in the School of Public Policy at the University of Maryland College Park. Her award-winning book American While Black: African Americans, Immigration, and the Limits of Citizenship (Oxford University Press) examines Black public opinion on immigration. Her new work is a survey of American policy toward Haitian refugees.
Editor’s Note
“At Issue” is a weekly series featuring publicly engaged scholars whose work highlights key issues of importance. From efforts to reframe discussions about justice and inclusion, to the impact of public debates surrounding immigration and race, the series concludes with a prescription for how we move beyond the election to analyze, organize, and strategize on mutual priorities. The series challenges us to consider how key policy issues within this election may impact the future of higher education and beyond. The editor of the series is Dr. Khalilah L. Brown-Dean, the Rob Rosenthal Distinguished Professor of Civic Engagement and Executive Director of the Allbritton Center for the Study of Public Life at Wesleyan University. A scholar of voting rights, punishment, and civic engagement, she is author of the book “Identity Politics in the United States” and hosts the Gracie Award-winning radio show and podcast, “DISRUPTED.”Â