Migra!: A History of the U.S. Border Patrol

by Kelly Lytle Hernández

This is the untold history of the United States Border Patrol from its beginnings in 1924 as a small peripheral outfit to its emergence as a large professional police force. To tell this story, Kelly Lytle Hernández dug through a gold mine of lost and unseen records stored in garages, closets, an abandoned factory, and in U.S. and Mexican archives. Focusing on the daily challenges of policing the borderlands and bringing to light unexpected partners and forgotten dynamics, Migra! reveals how the U.S. Border Patrol translated the mandate for comprehensive migration control into a project of policing Mexicans in the U.S.-Mexico borderlands.

Genres: History, Nonfiction, Race, Politics, American History, United States, Academic

334 pages, Paperback

First published May 3, 2010

About the author

Kelly Lytle Hernández holds the Thomas E. Lifka Endowed Chair in History and directs the Ralph J. Bunche Center for African American Studies at UCLA. A 2019 MacArthur “Genius” Grant recipient, she is the author of the award-winning books Migra! and City of Inmates. She lives in Los Angeles, California.

Reviews

[Brian Bean · Rating 4 out of 5]

Good and rigorous history. Perhaps a little dry for a casual reader. Also mostly on focuses on the history up until 1974, with the epilogue taking the rest up to the present. But very good analysis of the book at in which the various “needs” of capitalism shaped the various ways in which the movement of Mexican workers needed to be managed and controlled because of the interests of capital. Has a good chapter that looks at how the US policing of movement was developed in partnership with the Mexican state which is a dynamic that is left out of more casual treatments of the politics of immigration. The chapters on the early history do a good job of showing how the violence and racism and history of conquest flowed directly into the daily practices of the Border Patrol though at times I wondered if the emphasis on this being “imposed on US immigration policy” (authors words) was a bit lopsided and underplayed the ways in which that racism and violence was just as central in the central mandates of the ruling class state. Also I wished some more on the more recent history was there. But still a great book and a lot packed into a pretty tight 230ish pages.

[Molly]

This book was kind of a slog—I guess I should stop expecting history books to be rollicking; I was spoiled by Sam Patch, the Famous Jumper—but it was full of really interesting information and thoughtful analysis about how the US Border Patrol ended up the way it is. If I had to summarize Hernández’s periodization argument, I would say: 1) the early USBP, founded in 1924, was a highly localized set of institutions that grew out of the particular social milieus of the California-Mexico and Texas-Mexico borderlands; 2) the advent of WWII not only dramatically grew the USBP but turned it into a national institution (not so culturally embedded in, or controlled by, the borderlands); and 3) Operation Cloud Burst and Operation W*tback in the early 1950s, which aimed to purge the US of undocumented migrants, also allowed for a shift in propaganda which painted migrants as criminals and dovetailed nicely with a rising war on drugs and expansion of federal law enforcement more broadly.

Along with this chronology, Hernández explores the role of the Mexican government in promoting US immigration control and the shifting roles of gender and race (how the middle-class Mexican American fight to be considered white influenced immigration control, and how the racialized caste of “illegal immigrants” influenced and was influenced by the Black/white racial divide in the US) in creating the system of immigration control we have today. She also argues that oversimplified narratives of what the Border Patrol is and how it came to be end up making its “turn toward policing Mexican nationals in the US-Mexico borderlands emerge as the certain and inevitable product of impartial law enforcement,” rather than a messy process grounded in specific historical, social, and physical contexts.

Other takeaways: the “free market” is a lie, and when the “market” favors workers, bosses enthusiastically make, break, and enforce laws—with the help of law enforcement—to tip the balance back in their own favor. There is no such thing as a “good” nation-state. Compromising solidarity for anything (“if we deport enough migrants, our own whiteness will be secured”/“if we just focus on industrial growth for a couple years at the expense of redistributing wealth, then we’ll have more wealth to redistribute and it’ll be better”/etc.) is a Faustian bargain and won’t even “work” on its own terms. And spending money on policing and prisons will beget more policing and imprisonment which will in turn beget more spending on policing and prisons.

On a happier note, it was interesting to learn about how twentieth-century migrants outsmarted the Border Patrol. For example, in the early days of the Bracero Program, only certain men could be channeled into the program’s legal immigration stream, so “illegal non-bracero migration…included the women and families excluded from the Bracero Program” (135). This was a little awkward for the Border Patrol, because when they used their standard immigration control practices on women and children—from outright physical violence to deporting and abandoning migrants in “unfamiliar places”—it came off as totally barbaric. So the USBP exempted women and children from its program of deportation buslifts, targeting “only single men at least fifteen years old.” More or less immediately, “if they were apprehended, male and female migrants joined hands and claimed to be married. Instant nuptials of friends and strangers protected single male migrants from buslifts to distant places” (136). It gives me hope that random people have been outwitting gigantic, powerful institutions for centuries upon centuries and will keep doing so.

[Amy · Rating 5 out of 5]

In the movie Blue Bayou, which follows the eventual deportation of a Korean American adoptee in New Orleans, an ICE agent is a floating presence in the movie-- even friends with Antonio, the protagonist. To me, the movie highlighted the ways in which the border looms large, and in distinct ways, on different racialized communities, and was a quality that it shared with Migra!, which opened my eyes to the shadows of the border patrol and its long history. Kelly Lytle Hernandez (a professor at my alma mater, UCLA) uses archival research and case studies, to both points the microscope on multiple border patrol officers whose own histories entwine with the creation and maintenance of the force, and also frames the context through which the force was born. As an example, she spends much time contextualizing the lands surrounding the border, particularly in Texas, writing how South Texas families saw undocumented workers with the same lens of paternalism as Southern slaves owners, and protected them as a way of life.

While I knew a lot of the anti-Asian sentiment present at the creation of many of these border policies, I was shocked by the how deeply the history of Chinese and East Asian immigration influenced the beginnings of the U.S. Border Patrol. In fact, early border patrols were specifically conducted around around Chinese, Japanese, Hindu and Filipino laborers and undocumented folxs before turning to Mexican laborers. Tightening immigration controls meant that Asian migrants were forced to go to Mexico, and many Asians experienced double deportations from Mexico, where they first sent to the US, and then to China.

What I appreciate deeply about Dr. Hernandez's book is the different lenses through which she saw the development of the border patrol: she touched on the deeply gendered nature of the patrols, speaking of how women and children would develop strategies to unsettle the male officers and "embarrass" them by kick off large fights. She wrote about the relationships developed between the Border Patrol and Mexican government and how they worked to turn the Mexican middle class onto the ensuing migrants and workers.

This was an incredibly well-written book on the history of the border patrol, with incredible relevance to much still happening today. Even if you're very knowledgeable on migrant movements, there is a lot of contextual history that could provide even more depth to what you know.

[Courtney Kruzan · Rating 5 out of 5]

An easy to read and holistic review of U.S. Border Patrol History. It was only like 235 pages worth of reading, which is much shorter than I would have thought. I am absolutely in love with the depth and breadth of the research and care that went into piecing this history together so cohesively.

I was introduced to Kelly Lytle Hernández through "Relational Formations of Race: Theory, Method, and Practice," and loved seeing those relational threads being explored from many angles.

[Scott Baxter · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was interested in this book after hearing that the author was awarded a MacArthur grant for her book which “challeng[es] long-held beliefs about the origins, ideology, and evolution of incarceration and immigrant detention practices in the United States.” But I found the book too theory heavy for my tastes and stopped reading. But I did like the way she started the book:

[Spoken] It’s a bird!
It’s a plane!
No man, it’s a wetback.
[sung] He cam from the sky, but he is not a plane.
He came in his spaceship from Krypton,
And by the looks of him, he’s not American.
He’s someone like me — undocumented.
So the migrant should not work
Because even though it hurts, Superman is an illegal.
He’s a journalist, and I am too;
He didn’t serve in the army (what a bum!)
He is white, has blue eyes and is well-formed;
I’m dark-skinned, chubby and short.
But in my homeland I already marched
With the coyote I paid when I crossed.

He didn’t serve in the military.
He doesn’t pay taxes and he wants to pass judgement.
He doesn’t have diamonds or a license to fly.
I’ll bet he doesn’t even have a social security card.

We need to kick Superman out of here.
And if it’s possible, send him back to Krypton.
Where is the emigration authority?
What’s the news, Mr. Racism, in the nation?
For all I know they don’t fine him for flying.
But on the contrary, they declare he’s Superman.

Jorge Lerma “Superman is an illegal alien”

Toward the end of the Great Depression, DC Comics launched its fantastic tale of an orphaned infant alien who grew up to become an American hero named Superman. The Superman saga begins with the young hero’s dramatic arrival on earth. Just moments before the destruction of his home planet, Kyypton, Superman’s parents rocket their infant son toward salvation in Kansas. Adopted by a childless but moral and God-fearing couple, Superman spends his early years as nothing more than an average Anglo-American boy coming of age in rural America. But beneath his external appearance, he is different. Unlike his neighbors, Superman can fly, melt steel, and see through walls. And, unlike his neighbors, Superman is an illegal alien.

Thirty-one years before Superman landed in American folklore, the United States Congress passed the Immigration Act of 1907. This law required all immigrants entering the United States to pass through and official port of entry, submit themselves to inspection, and receive official authorization to legally enter the United States. Dropping from the sky and failing to register with the U. S. Immigration authorities, Superman entered the United States without authorization. According to U. S. Immigration law, the incorruptible leader of the Justice League of America was an illegal immigrant. Yet the tale of Superman evolved free of any hint or consideration of his illegal status. Surely, Superman was just a fantasy and, as such, the character and narrative were not subject to the basic realities of U. S. Immigration restrictions. But in the same years that Superman’s popularity soared, the United States became a nation deeply divided over the issue of illegal immigration. From congress to school boards, Americans decried an “immigrant invasion” and a loss of control over the country’s borders. These debates swirled around the issue of unsanctioned Mexican immigration at the U. S. - Mexico border. By the mid 1970s, vigilantes were patrolling the border, and congress was hosting explosive debates about how to resolve the so-called wetback program. As the issue of unauthorized Mexican immigration rippled across the political American landscape, Chicano activist and songwriter Jorge Lerma asked his listeners to consider the irony of Superman’s enormous popularity. “It’s a bird. It’s a plane. No man, it’s a wetback!” Shouted Lerma. But few people took note that the iconic Man of Steel was an illegal immigrant.

Lerma’s provocative interrogation of Superman’s forgotten illegal immigrant was a critique of the U. S. Border Patrol’s nearly exclusive focus on policing Mexican immigrant workers despite many other possible subjects and methods of immigration law enforcement (pgs. 1-2).

[Jessica · Rating 5 out of 5]

MIGRA! by Kelly Lytle Hernandez, a history of the US Border Patrol (roughly 1924-1974, and unsurprisingly, entirely focused on the CA/AZ/TX border with Mexico).

Her major intervention is using Border Patrol records and Mexican migration policy records to show how the Patrol became a state-sponsored space of policing that was quickly racialized to only focused on Mexican migrants, and beyond that, highly gendered in its enforcement tactics. Perhaps most importantly, she shows how this space was made and enforced through both US and Mexican policies, as each nation had its own logics for justifying surveillance, enforcement, and deportation. The most informative chapters are definitely those on the strategies for enforcement (airlifts and buslifts that were largely avoided for women/children), the emergence of the Bracero program (facilitating work permits/migration for a select group of agricultural laborers, and subsequently marking others as inherently illegal through lack of such paperwork), and her chapter on Operation Wetback and the rhetoric of "success" on the issue of migration during the Eisenhower administration. I would highly recommend, though I do wish she'd spoken more about the motivations for migration from Mexico through more first-hand accounts/social histories, especially those experiences from women and non-agricultural laborers.

[Reading · Rating 3 out of 5]

Adequate but somewhat muddled, dry and lacking in more recent history. While at times I appreciated the authors dry and academic style it made for a challenging and dull read. No, I don't want a sexy narrative or personal anecdotes but I have certainly red more engaging histories that still sick to the facts - A People's History... come to mind.

Additionally I would have preferred a more linear telling out a more predictable/consistent jumping between time periods as the structure was less than ideal for me. Finally, the more detailed history essentially stops in 1980 with the only information about the period after that covered in a brief epilogue. While I appreciate that this is "A History of the US Border Patrol", it was published in 2010 and given how critical border policy is it would have been valuable to provide additional material covering 1980-2000.

[Billy Wittenberg · Rating 3 out of 5]

Painstakingly researched and illuminating history of a little understood piece of America's broken immigration policy. Kelly Hernandez goes to excruciating depth to investigate the creation and evolution of the US border patrol. She even combs through mildewed records found inside a forgotten Mexican warehouse to bolster her case. For anyone researching the subject, this is an essential read.

But I only gave three stars due to the dense, dry text. Writing this book was surely a labor of love, and unfortunately so is reading it. I estimate the text could be reduced by 25% and still tell the same story. If you only have a passing interest in the subject, this probably isn't the book for you.

[Jack · Rating 4 out of 5]

an interesting approach to borderlands history. focusing on the border patrol as an organization while working with interpersonal narratives, whether that be experiences of officers or migrants was very interesting. i read this in tandem with "the land of open graves" by Jason De Leon for a research project and the two books work masterfully together, as Hernandez gives insight into the past and De Leon in the present. my favorite quote was about the environmental angle, as she writes "Border Patrol retreated from its authority to strike and, instead, embraced what Michel Foucault has described as ‘the power to let die.”

[Johnny Villanueva · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book guided me through the beginnings & day to day functions with its respective geo-political place in any point in time, between its inception up until the 80’s, of the Border Patrol.
Wasn’t too hard to digest, but wasn’t the easiest. Paragraphs and chapters can feel very repetitive at times.
Worth reading is the verdict. But shouldn’t be only source of information you resort to in terms of the Border Patrol subject.

[Robert Justice · Rating 4 out of 5]

Liked the concept of the book and the author’s execution of the history of the border patrol. However, I think research has evolved quite drastically from this publication and that the author commented more on the power structures of the border during its first 30 years of inception rather than a greater investigation into its history per say.

[Atif Taj · Rating 4 out of 5]

The history of border patrol imported the borderlands deeply rooted racial divide, converting Mexicans as a weak “wetback, brown faced” man looking for work early on and then as a “maniac, criminal” involved in crime and drug trade.

[Leah Montange · Rating 5 out of 5]

-social history of border patrol
-really interesting chapters on the 1940s and 1950s, detailed account of border patrol practices and social life.

[Raul Alonzo Jr. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Informative and succint history that provides crucial context to the current situation.

[Kristine · Rating 4 out of 5]

🧾🗃🌵💬

[anissa · Rating 5 out of 5]

CHINGA LA MIGRA!

[Micah Nies · Rating 4 out of 5]

A really good read considering the times we're seeing.

[nayeli · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read this for a class but I would suggest this book to anyone. Especially if you live in a border state.

[James Henry · Rating 3 out of 5]

An important historical record, for sure, but the writing is a bit dry and becomes repetitive after awhile.

[Jaclyn Ekhoff · Rating 5 out of 5]

Incredible writing and research. Top 3 books I've read in grad school so far (4 classes in, and easily over 20 books read so far).

[Miguel]

Beginning with the creation of the U.S. Border Patrol in May 1924, Kelly Lytle’s book Migra! A History of the U.S. Border Patrol, which is an offshoot from her dissertation, presents the story of the organization and how it helped shape the story of race in the United States (2). She states that the formation of the Border Patrol was the product of a larger and more complex process that from is usually presented as part of the master narrative (3). She ties agricultural labor tied to the capitalistic economy in the Southwest to the organization’s formulation (4). Migra! situates the discussion of the Border Patrol to both sides of the U.S.-Mexico border and states that Mexico was a crucial partner in migration-control and border-enforcement (7). She also introduces a racialized term Mexican Brown, as a conceptual and theoretical tool because she states, “regardless of immigration or citizenship status, it was Mexican Browns rather than abstract Mexicans who lived within the Border Patrol’s sphere of suspicion.” This statement is problematic because it does not answer where Chicanos fit into the nation-state and who puts them at the border and how the nation-state is constructed. As if a Mexican body is a threat to the nation. Instead, she ties the formulation of the term to the black/white binary that influences how the Border Patrol developed its work while excluding the population that they policed.
In the first chapter, Migra! chronicles various laws that mitigated the creation of the Border Patrol such as various historic events such as white violence against Mexicans, such as the U.S.-Mexico War (1846-48), the Chinese Exclusionary Act of 1882, the Gentlemen’s Agreement of 1907 and the 1913 and 1920 Alien Land Laws, and the Tydings-McDuffie Act of 1934. Using personal stories of early Border Patrol agents such as Dogie Wright to Pete Torres, Lytle demonstrates how unskilled men rose to become an enforcement agency in the borderlands and over time these men become agents of inequality, yet Lytle paints them as heroes. The second chapter focuses on labor control, masculinity, smugglers and the training of agents. Lytle does not challenge the official story of the Border Patrol; instead she documents it reinventing itself. A short Chapter 3 presents border control in California-Arizona area that could have been expanded. Chapter 4 presents outlines the problems of Mexican migration and focuses on Mexico’s system of immigration control. There is also a chapter on border enforcement during World War II as well as it tied to agricultural worker demands in the 1940s.
Migra! is uneven, with some chapters smaller than others. She uses oral histories of agents and primary documents from both Mexico and early Border Patrol documents from the United States to tell her story. Lytle is interested in the power dynamics along the U.S.-Mexico border, as was Neil Foley in his book The White Scourge, Mexicans, Blacks and Poor Whites in Texas Cotton Culture. The book is dis-jointed in various chapters because in her book Lytle is trying to figure out the culture of the Border Patrol and then tie it to bigger historical debates using issues like nativism, racialization and labor control in the borderlands where racism permeates the landscape. A drawback of the book is that the beginning is rich and historically detailed but at the end it unravels. She doesn’t expound on the history of the Border Patrol after the 1950’s or show the origins of her book, maybe because she did not have access to those stories.

[José Angel Hernández · Rating 5 out of 5]

Remarkable.

[Molly · Rating 3 out of 5]

The transformation of deportation - Hernandez forces us to rethink how we conceptualize state sanctioned violence and the regionalization of race issues in the Borderlands.

[victor harris · Rating 1 out of 5]

Good information but monotonous reading.

[Kim · Rating 4 out of 5]

Who knew the history of the border patrol was so interesting? Very cool read, and written plainly.

[Kelli Peters · Rating 5 out of 5]

Kelly Lytle Hernandez’s work in Migra is a well-written and detailed history of the United States Border Patrol and immigrant relations. This work flows logically from the establishment of the Border Patrol to the late 1970s and early 1980s when the focus of the officer shifted to chasing criminals. Lytle continues her discussion of changes with border patrol and immigration relations in her epilogue which neatly wraps up her thoughts on the work and analyzes what can be learned from this work and applied to issues in the modern world. While Hernandez’s work provides a clear and accessible history of US border patrol, it was more difficult to find one definitive thesis statement in her work. I feel that Hernandez’s thesis is presented in three parts that become more clearly defined as one reads the entirety of her work. Hernandez’s thesis in this work consists of the following parts: “that the US Border Patrol’s rise in the US-Mexico borderlands not only evolved according to economic demands and nativist anxieties but also operated according to the individual interests and community investments of the men who worked as Border Patrol officers” (5), “how Mexican immigrant workers emerged as the primary targets of the US Border Patrol and how, in the process, the US Border Patrol shaped the story of race in the United States” (2), and this work “unearths the cross-border dimensions of migration control, and explains the US Border Patrol’s growth in the US-Mexico borderlands as intrinsically embedded in the expansion of federal law enforcement” (3). These elements make up the core tenants of Hernandez’s argument and analysis throughout the work.