Temporary Protected Status and Immigration Flows

By Abbey Vogel

“I’m confused, I’m hurt, I’m angry…We’re going to lose so much. I came here to learn and to work. I have kids, and I don’t want to leave.” [1]

The ending of Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for immigrants from Central America could initiate the forced return of over 260,000 Salvadorans and 59,000 Haitians; it could also lead to loss of status for an additional 44,000 Hondurans currently living in the United States, while doing little to lessen influxes of immigrants into the U.S.

The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) has stated that the conditions which initially prompted the granting of TPS for nationals from El Salvador, two earthquakes in 2001, have stabilized, and that the visa’s name demonstrates the conditional, short-term nature of the designation. The DHS and White House have situated their decision within a broader commitment to free-up U.S. jobs for citizens, and to de-incentivize immigration. However, a more nuanced exploration of the consequences of the repeal of TPS for status holders, U.S. citizens, and the stability of the Salvadoran state reveal that repealing TPS will most likely only exacerbate push factors within El Salvador, while at the same time harming the most vulnerable of status recipients.

The Unique Responsibility of the U.S. to El Salvador

TPS was first introduced in 1991 as a measure to accept Salvadorans fleeing Civil War. As Anu Joshi, the New York Immigration Coalition policy director, pointed out in an interview with Democracy Now!’s Amy Goodman, the U.S. government used two earthquakes that struck El Salvador in 2001 as justification for the reinstatement of the TPS designation, which had been ended in 1992. However, most of the beneficiaries of the extension were already living as undocumented refugees within U.S. borders, which demonstrates the superficiality of the connection between the status and the 2001 natural disasters. Primarily, TPS is rooted in the devastation that resulted from U.S. interventions within the country; the United States backed a repressive military regime in El Salvador until the 1992 Peace Accords ended 12 years of Civil War. Therefore, the Trump Administration’s discussion of TPS for Salvadorans as originating only with the 2001 extension fails to address the complex political motivations that led to the renewal of TPS, by both Republican and Democratic presidents, for the past two decades.

Furthermore, it is important to recognize that the gangs most active in El Salvador (Mara Salvatrucha and The 18th Street Gang) were both born on the West Coast of the United States, and their rise to power is largely attributed to the 1996 Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act  (IIRIRA), whose provisions expanded the number of people able to be targeted by immigration authorities. IIRIRA made minor and nonviolent offenses valid justification for the detention and deportation of undocumented individuals, as well as legal permanent residents. Aggressive reforms like IIRIRA can tear families apart, and oftentimes send long-time U.S. residents back to countries in which they have never lived. Returnees are often faced with economic, political, and social marginalization, which can propel insecurity, crime, and out-migration.

Salvadoran gangs act less like international syndicates than a “subsistence economy” for gang members suffering from poverty. The strength of the gangs is oftentimes rooted in inadequate U.S. trade policies, characterized by destructive neoliberal expansion and exploitation of unprotected workers. The 1992 Peace Accords generated a ceasefire, but did not address many of the root causes of the bloody Civil War. El Salvador failed to undergo radical, democratic post-war recovery, instead producing reforms that exacerbated economic inequity, unjust land ownership laws, and corruption. The violence present in El Salvador is a major impetus for migration, and it is important to remember that this violence is intertwined with a long legacy of U.S. intervention.

Since the early 2000s, the strategies employed by the Salvadoran government to address the problem of gang violence have been largely exported from the United States. The 2003 mano dura and 2006 super mano dura tactics were characterized by the militarization of police forces and state-sanctioned violence. Though governmental officials negotiated a gang truce from 2012-2014 that led to a brief drop in the homicide rate, the gangs used the concessions given by the Salvadoran government to rally their power, and have become even more lethal in the agreement’s aftermath. These strategies have failed to address gang membership as a byproduct of social marginalization and post-war community trauma. The governmental response, largely modeled after U.S. policies, has only created cyclical, brutal repression that has proven ineffective, and that has generated higher casualties and increased levels of gang activity.

Thus, the DHS’s limited examination of post-earthquake infrastructure does not account for, or address, the political and historical complexities implicit within Temporary Protection Status.

Economic Destabilization as an Incentive of Migration

Today, the majority of TPS holders are Salvadoran; 88% are employed within the labor market as of 2017, approximately ⅓ are homeowners, and 192,700 have U.S.-born children. An economic study spearheaded by the University of California has revealed that ending TPS could lead to an over $40 billion dip in the national GDP within a decade (primarily affecting FL, NY, CA, TX, MD, and VA). It is unlikely that individuals with TPS would leave if their protection was repealed (and it would cost $3.1 billion to deport them). Therefore, it is likely that workers who are currently receiving paychecks and paying taxes would instead work without legal protection or financial legitimacy.

Equally important, according to NPR’s interview with Cecilia Mejívar, the co-director of the Center for Migration Research at the University of Kansas, remittances from the United States account for 17% of El Salvador’s GDP. Unregulated labor markets that would be forced to absorb newly undocumented former TPS holders often pay less, leave employees susceptible to wage theft, and make it more difficult to send money back to family members, which could create serious ripples within the Salvadoran economy. The labor market in the tiny (only the size of Massachusetts!) Central American country would be unable to absorb the high numbers of returnees that would result from the suspension of TPS. While a Trumpian response akin to: “Well, that’s a problem for those countries to deal with” may seem like a logical reply to these points, it is important to remember that the leading cause of migration from Central America is a narrative of economic opportunity. Destroying El Salvador’s national economy further could feed this narrative and could increase, rather than stem, migration. Further, there are deep communal and familial ties between El Salvador and the United States; 1/5 of Salvadorans reside in the U.S., and ending protected status would hurt these individuals, as well as the families they support.

Finally, there are numerous academic, governmental, sociological, and anthropological studies that demonstrate the ineffectiveness of deterrence when migrants are fleeing violence and crime. Thus, the repeal of TPS would only facilitate the intensification of an already prominent push factor, further endangering migrants who face high-risk journeys northward.

The Impact of Repeal on Women, LGBTQ+ Individuals, and other Marginalized Groups

Uprooting TPS holders who have been in the U.S. for more than two decades and forcing them back to a country where they could face economic disenfranchisement, violence, or discrimination raises myriad human rights concerns. However, it could also make U.S. policy toward the Salvadoran government seem inconsistent, as asylum-seekers from El Salvador (particularly women and LGBTQ+ individuals) are, in small numbers, still being formerly granted asylum at the U.S. border. It is likely that these individuals would be forced to flee again, that they would face extraordinary violence in their journey back to the U.S. (or to another country), and that this effort of deportation and likely re-admittance under asylum protection later would be a needless taxpayer expenditure.

El Salvador has the highest rate of femicide in the Americas, and TPS-holders’ journeys back pose innumerable risks from gangs and cartels that specifically target women and girls. Females who return to the country also face anti-abortion laws that can put a woman who suffers a miscarriage in jail for long periods of time without proof of biological cause. Returnees face machismo, domestic violence, and more, even within their own families. These factors tend to encourage migration, as well as gang involvement.

LGBTQ+ and gender non-conforming individuals are specifically targeted within El Salvador -- not just by gangs and discriminatory community members, but oftentimes also by police and state actors. Sending vulnerable populations to neighborhoods where they have not been living for, in many cases, over two decades, would leave them incredibly susceptible to gang violence, and would most likely produce high numbers of individuals trying to return back to the U.S. -- only this time as undocumented immigrants.

It is notable that young, male-identified TPS holders could also be confronted by violence, forced gang recruitment, and other dangerous obstacles upon returning to a country in which they have not lived for the entirety of their young adult lives.

Reframing the TPS Debate

Numerous non-governmental organizations, legislators, and the Salvadoran government itself have pointed-out that TPS could be extended for different reasons, or could be restructured to become a designation that includes a pathway to citizenship after a certain amount of time. Though it is tempting to reduce a nuanced conversation about TPS to “Repeal!”/“Renew!” rhetoric, the complexities explored above demonstrate that a re-examination of TPS could offer opportunities for genuine reform, rather than merely pushing the problem of naturalization for TPS-holders down the political pipeline, which would continue to make renewal a topic that is vulnerable to presidential changeability and flip-flopping.

The suspension of TPS means that any individuals currently in the United States have until 2019 to leave the country.

[1] Blitzer, Jonathan. “What the Salvadorans Being Kicked Out By Trump Face Back Home.” The New Yorker. 9 January 2018, accessed 10 January 2018.