BY LUIS LUQUE ALVAREZ  
In the United States, to be an immigrant—especially from the nations of the South—entails risks. With astonishing ease, even if a person has a residency permit, a legal Hispanic resident who travels abroad can, on his return, find himself facing a threat of deportation and being jailed for the sake of the superpower’s national security.

Such a thing happened to Róger Calero, a young man originally from Nicaragua who has lived in the United States since 1985. An associate editor of Perspectiva Mundial and staff writer for the Militant newsweekly, Calero was arrested in the Houston, Texas, airport on December 3, 2002, as he was returning from a meeting against the Free Trade Area of the Americas (FTAA) in Havana, and an event by the Continental Organization of Latin American and Caribbean Students (OCLAE) in Mexico.

“On my return,” he told Juventud Rebelde, “the Immigration Service arrested me and said they would not allow my entry into the country on account of a minor criminal offense in 1988 when I was in high school and for which I received a $50 fine. When I filed for permanent residency in 1989, I informed them of the incident and was pardoned. They granted me residency, and renewed it 10 years later.

“When I returned from Cuba and Mexico in 2002, however, they told me the rules had changed, and that under the 1996 law they had the power to deport me, even based on a criminal case prior to the law’s enactment. In 2002 alone, some 640,000 persons were deported for misdemeanors.”

Question. What happened after your arrest?

Answer. I contacted the editor of my magazine, and a call of protest was issued, demanding my release. Through the Socialist Workers Party and organizations that defend workers’ rights, a defense committee was organized to try to unite various forces independently, without relying on bourgeois institutions, knowing that the only way of winning was through our independent mobilization.

The unions played a decisive role. Before working at Perspectiva Mundial, I had a job in a meatpacking plant, and there I was able to participate in creating a union and winning a contract. These compañeros immediately circulated a letter demanding my release. The union offered its hall for events, raised funds, and at the same time looked for support from other unions in the area.

Many people who realized there was going to be a public fight also began telling their own stories. This started with the very first articles I sent from prison to Perspectiva Mundial, which were published.

What’s happening today is that alongside an increase in attacks on immigrant workers, there’s a greater resistance by the working class, both immigrant and native born. We in the SWP have been following these signs. For this reason, much of the support came from the unions, which shows that a cause like this must be brought directly into the unions to be taken up.

Q. When were you released?

A. Ten days later. After dozens and dozens of letters arrived at the Immigration Service, they felt forced to release me, even though the law calls for mandatory detention of all those facing deportation. It was the first victory.

In fact, what happened to me happens to hundreds throughout the country every day. Arrests at the border, factory raids. And the reaction to my defense case showed that it was seen as the same situation facing millions of workers in the United States. People not only supported me, but identified with my case. In face of this, the government was forced to withdraw the charges against me.

Q. Tell us about your experiences in prison.

A. First, I should say that when they arrested me, we were already receiving confirmation of the reality that many ordinary people who today work in a factory tomorrow could be facing deportation. The authorities say they’re deporting criminals, threats to society, terrorism suspects, but people know that those most affected are workers.

I was in a private jail used by the Immigration Service to house detained immigrant workers awaiting expulsion from the U.S. There I was able to meet a young man from Nigeria who was a door-to-door salesman. One day he knocked on the door of a Houston cop, who accused him of trespassing, arrested him, and turned him over to the Immigration Service to be deported.

You can also meet permanent residents, who have lived in the United States for many years, where they have a home and even U.S.-born children, and for something that happened in their past they’re facing expulsion.

I also got to know the case of a group of Salvadorans who months earlier went on a hunger strike to pressure the court to hear their cases. Not to remain in the country any longer, but rather to at least go back to their native land, since they had been held longer than the legal limit.

Sometimes they offer you a piece of paper to sign to facilitate your legal proceedings. That is, your deportation could be worked out within 10 days if you could accept deportation and agree to sign voluntarily. They thus eliminate any possibility of fighting for your rights. Many workers sign in face of the threat of remaining in jail indefinitely.

To cite a figure, last year alone close to 1.7 million people were deported.

Q. After you were released, what did you concentrate on?

A. We began to organize public events in 23 cities across the country. We visited groups of strikers, garment workers in Miami. Even Univisión interviewed us on the program “Aquí y Ahora” [Here and now], because it was of interest to so many thousands in similar situations.

After the Department of Homeland Security presented a motion to close my case on May 1, 2003, we organized a tour not just to thank people for their support, but to exchange experiences and help advance the causes of other workers.

In this way we met many individuals who felt that our victory strengthened their fight, the fact that someone was fighting deportations. But in addition, people were also seeking to organize a union and engaging in other forms of resistance.

We’re also supporting one of the most important causes in the country: that of 75 coal miners—the majority Mexican—in a small town in Utah, where they were working in extremely dangerous conditions and receiving very low wages. They have sought the support of the miners union and have received broad backing. Against the attitude that we are victims and have to put up with everything, the view is gaining ground that we have rights, that we’re going to fight for them and look for allies among other workers in the country, in order to fight together.

In this effort, many campaigns can converge. In the case of the five Cuban revolutionary compañeros imprisoned in the United States, at the time of their solitary confinement we got out the word and held public activities. We did the same with the fight against police brutality and for the rights of women. I believe that it’s among those in struggle that we’re going to find the people most willing to defend the case of the five Cubans—Gerardo, René, Ramón, Antonio, and Fernando—and those able to understand Cuba’s revolutionary perspective, which is what they defend.

Martín Koppel, editor of the Militant and of Perspectiva Mundial, is convinced that in the fight to free the five Cuban heroes the best ally they can have is the working people of the United States.

“They are the people who are fighting against different kinds of injustice, so they can identify with the cause of the five fighters,” Koppel says. “This is not only an attack against the revolution, but against fundamental workers’ rights. It’s important to see that the Five are not simply victims of an injustice, but Cuban internationalist fighters. This helps to explain why the U.S. government is targeting them for this attack.”  
 
 
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