Ideals and flaws of US immigrant history

Watching the hundreds of thousands of Hispanics who marched for immigrant rights this past week prompts reflection on both the successes and failings of America's immigrant history.

Americans are, on the one hand, proud of their legacy as a nation of immigrants. The Statue of Liberty, one of America's most powerful symbols, stands in New York Harbour bearing the words of poet Emma Lazarus:

Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

The "Lady in the Harbour" is a reminder that, for the majority of Americans, their ancestors came there many of them without documentation dreaming of the unlimited possibilities this new land's freedom and opportunity would make available. As each new wave of immigrants came, they faced initial hardship, but were ultimately absorbed into the very fabric of America, making the nation richer and more diverse. It is this tradition, not America's military strength, that defines its greatness and makes Americans different than the "old world".

That there is truth to this storyline can't be denied. But Americans must not let this mask the reality of the darker side of the American narrative.

To begin with, of course, there are the "original sins" of America: the "ethnic cleansing" and/or genocide committed against the indigenous population; the massive exploitation of millions of African slaves who produced considerable surplus wealth for their white owners and the conquest and forced acquisition of the Spanish-speaking Southwest that made America a continental giant.

To all of this Americans must add the periodic waves of nativist intolerance and repression that, at times, created additional burdens for various immigrant groups. My own community's and family's history is filled with examples.

The greeting at Ellis Island was not always a welcoming one. My mother's father came with his brother from Lebanon and landed in New York in 1898. Both in their 20's, they travelled together hoping to start a new life in America. Because it was alleged that my great uncle had an eye disease, he was deemed unfit for entry. He had no recourse.

The two brothers were separated and my uncle was turned away. The two never saw or heard from each other again. Many decades later we learned that he sailed on to Brazil and prospered in Sao Paulo. But my grandfather died never knowing what had happened to his brother.

After the First World War, the US found itself in the throes of a nativist rage, with Southern European and Asians specifically targeted. It was during this period that a series of anti-Asian laws were passed.

Repressive legislation

Since Greater Syria was in Asia, Lebanese and Syrian immigrants were victims of this repressive legislation. My father, thus excluded, came to the US as an illegal immigrant to be with the rest of his family. For years he worked with his brothers, but lived with the fear of deportation. (Decades later, he received amnesty and became a citizen.) My aunt, a naturalised US citizen, lost her citizenship when she married my uncle, a legal, but not yet naturalised immigrant from Lebanon.

Shaped by this understanding of our broader history and my own family's story, I confess a profound sympathy with the current drive for immigrants' rights. I am not one of those who, having made it into American society, wants to close the door behind me locking others out.

With an estimated 12 million undocumented workers in the US and more coming each day, the current debate over immigration policy must both recognise realities and adapt itself to current needs.

To some extent, the flood of "illegals" is a function of America's economic needs for more workers and our own troubled and exploitative history with nations south of our border. In a real sense, the problem can in part be seen as "our chickens coming home to roost."

Every debate about immigration must recognise both sides of US history the promise of the "Lady in the Harbour" that continues to bring more immigrants to America and the realities and mistakes of our past troubles with immigration.

Only when we acknowledge both our ideals and our flaws can we be the great and inspiring country we see ourselves to be.

Dr James Zogby is the president of the Arab American Institute in Washington, DC.