Crisis at the Border

Dozens of migrants huddled over wood fires at a remote spot in the Arizona desert in December, near a hole in the U.S. border wall with Mexico.

After fleeing war in Sudan, violent gangs in Central America, or Mexican cartels, the men had all crossed into the United States illegally, walked on foot over rugged terrain for hours, and arrived at this outpost exhausted, hungry, and cold.

They wanted to turn themselves into the authorities to ask for asylum but were stranded here, miles away from the closest town, Sásabe.

Then, as temperatures dropped, a convoy of Border Patrol agents rolled in, loaded the men into a van to be processed, and sped away—off to search for more people in need of rescue.

“We are not equipped to deal with this,” Scott Carmon, a Border Patrol watch commander, said while surveying the muddy encampment. “It’s a humanitarian disaster.”

Izzeddin, a 32-year-old migrant from Sudan, which is in the middle of a civil war, was among about a dozen men from his homeland at the Arizona encampment. He sipped sugary coffee provided by an aid group, No More Deaths, that has helped keep migrants alive with blankets, food, and 911 calls to address life-threatening injuries.

“We came here because we need protection,” said Izzeddin, who asked to be identified by only his first name, fearing reprisals against his family.

It was December, and dozens of migrants stood around wood fires at a remote spot in the Arizona desert. They were near a hole in the U.S. border wall with Mexico.

The men had all crossed into the United States illegally. They were getting away from war in Sudan, violent gangs in Central America, or Mexican cartels. After walking over rugged terrain for hours, they had arrived at this outpost tired, hungry, and cold.

They wanted to turn themselves into the authorities and ask for asylum. But they were stuck miles away from the closest town, Sásabe.

As it got colder, a convoy of Border Patrol agents rolled in. The men were loaded into a van to be processed. The van sped away to search for more people in need of rescue.

“We are not equipped to deal with this,” Scott Carmon, a Border Patrol watch commander, said while looking at the muddy encampment. “It’s a humanitarian disaster.”

Izzeddin is a 32-year-old migrant from Sudan. The country is in the middle of a civil war. He was among about a dozen men from his homeland at the Arizona encampment. He sipped sugary coffee provided by an aid group, No More Deaths. The group has helped keep migrants alive with blankets, food, and 911 calls to address life-threatening injuries.

“We came here because we need protection,” said Izzeddin. He asked to be identified by only his first name, fearing revenge against his family.

For decades, undocumented immigrants, mainly young men from Mexico and later Central America, did their best to sneak past U.S. border agents to reach Los Angeles and other cities hungry for their labor.

Today, people from around the globe are streaming across the southern border, most of them just as eager to better their lives. But rather than trying to elude border agents, the majority of migrants seek them out. They may wait for days in makeshift camps just to surrender.

For these migrants, being hustled into a U.S. Border Patrol vehicle and taken to a processing facility isn’t a setback. It’s a a crucial step toward being able to apply for asylum—protected status granted to some refugees who face imminent danger back home. It’s the surest way for them to stay in the U.S., even if few will ultimately win their cases.

For decades, undocumented immigrants, mainly young men from Mexico and later Central America, did their best to sneak past U.S. border agents. They were trying to reach Los Angeles and other cities hungry for their labor.

Today, people from around the globe are streaming across the southern border. Most are seeking to better their lives. But rather than trying to avoid border agents, the majority of migrants seek them out. They may wait for days in makeshift camps just to surrender.

For these migrants, being loaded into a U.S. Border Patrol vehicle and taken to a processing facility isn’t a setback. It’s an important step toward being able to apply for asylum. This is a protected status granted to some refugees who face danger back home. It’s the best way for them to stay in the U.S., even if few will ultimately win their cases.

We are living in an era of mass migration, fueled by conflict, climate change, poverty, and political repression. In December alone, more than 300,000 people crossed the southern border from Mexico, a record number. It’s not just because they believe they can make it across the 2,000-mile southern frontier. They’re also certain that once they get to the U.S., they’ll be able to stay. Forever. And by and large, they’re not wrong.

The U.S. is trying to run an immigration system with a fraction of the judges, asylum officers, interpreters, and personnel it needs to handle the hundreds of thousands of migrants crossing the border each year. That has made it impossible to expeditiously decide who can remain in the country and who should be sent back to their homeland.

We are living in an era of mass migration. It is being fueled by conflict, climate change, poverty, and political repression. In December alone, more than 300,000 people crossed the southern border from Mexico. This was a record number. It’s not just because they believe they can make it across the 2,000-mile southern frontier. They’re also certain that once they get to the U.S., they’ll be able to stay. Forever. And in most cases, they’re not wrong.

The U.S. is trying to run an immigration system that lacks resources. There are a fraction of the judges, asylum officers, interpreters, and personnel needed to handle the hundreds of thousands of migrants crossing the border each year. It has become impossible to quickly and efficiently decide who can remain in the country and who should be sent back to their homeland.

Carolina Ortiz, a migrant from Colombia, paid smugglers thousands of dollars to get her into the U.S. Border agents found her in a tent and took her to a facility where officials gave her paperwork that said she’d entered the country illegally. They placed her in deportation proceedings and told her she must appear in court before an immigration judge.

Ortiz, 40, says she’ll apply for asylum based on violence in Colombia. Her chances of winning are slim. But that may not matter: Her court date isn’t until February 2026. Even while her claim is pending, she’ll be shielded from deportation and qualify for a work permit. By then, she’ll have built a life in the U.S.

“I don’t know anyone who has been deported,” Ortiz says.

Nearly 2.5 million people crossed the southern border between July 2022 and July 2023, more than the number who live in most U.S. cities. That makes the border a contentious issue for mayors and governors grappling with large influxes of migrants—and a likely flashpoint in this year’s presidential election.

In Texas, Governor Greg Abbott, a Republican, drew attention to the surge at his border by busing tens of thousands of migrants to Democratic-run cities like New York, Washington, and Chicago, where some families have crammed into emergency shelters or huddled in tents on the edge of town.

“Now the rest of America is understanding exactly what’s going on,” Abbott told NBC.

While the U.S. has always been a nation of immigrants, Americans haven’t always welcomed newcomers, whether they entered the country legally or not (see timeline slideshow, below). That explains in part why lawmakers have been unable to fix what all agree is a broken immigration system.

Carolina Ortiz, a migrant from Colombia, paid smugglers thousands of dollars to get her into the United States. Border agents found her in a tent. They took her to a facility where officials gave her paperwork that said she’d entered the country illegally. They placed her in deportation proceedings and told her she must appear in court before an immigration judge.

Ortiz, 40, says she’ll apply for asylum based on violence in Colombia. Her chances of winning are slim. But that may not matter. Her court date isn’t until February 2026. Even while she is waiting, she’ll be safe from deportation and will qualify for a work permit. By then, she’ll have built a life in the U.S.

“I don’t know anyone who has been deported,” Ortiz says.

Nearly 2.5 million people crossed the southern border between July 2022 and July 2023. That is more than the number of people who live in most U.S. cities. That makes the border a controversial issue for mayors and governors dealing with large influxes of migrants. The issue will likely be a flashpoint in this year’s presidential election.

In Texas, Governor Greg Abbott, a Republican, drew attention to the surge at his border by busing tens of thousands of migrants to Democratic-run cities. They were bused to cities like New York, Washington, and Chicago, where some families have crammed into emergency shelters or huddled in tents on the edge of town.

“Now the rest of America is understanding exactly what’s going on,” Abbott told NBC.

While the U.S. has always been a nation of immigrants, Americans haven’t always welcomed newcomers, whether they entered the country legally or not (see timeline slideshow, below). Although many agree the system is broken, lawmakers have been unable to fix the immigration system.

The current border crisis has been fueled by years of inaction on the part of the federal government, experts say. The immigration system hasn’t been overhauled in 40 years, and it’s been a decade since Republicans and Democrats in Congress last engaged in serious negotiations to try to make changes to the system.

Republican leaders have called for increasing enforcement at the border, but even some proponents of that approach say a crackdown isn’t enough.

“We do need more boots on the ground, more border infrastructure,” says Michael Neifach, a legal adviser to Immigration and Customs Enforcement during the George W. Bush administration. “But you can’t fix this by just doing that.”

Over the past 13 years, Congress has increased funding for Customs and Border Protection, from $8 billion to $21.7 billion. But there hasn’t been the same investment in filling the shortage of asylum officers, immigration judges, and deportation officers.

“Politicians want to fund border patrol agents, fencing, and other visible aspects of border enforcement,” says Doris Meissner, director of the U.S. immigration policy program at the nonpartisan Migration Policy Institute. “But until resources are bolstered for other immigration functions, the border problem cannot be solved.”

The current border crisis has been fueled by years of inaction on the part of the federal government, experts say. The immigration system hasn’t been overhauled in 40 years. It has been 10 years since Republicans and Democrats in Congress last had serious talks to try to make changes to the system.

Republican leaders have called for increasing enforcement at the border, but even some supporters of that approach say a crackdown isn’t enough.

“We do need more boots on the ground, more border infrastructure,” says Michael Neifach, a legal adviser to Immigration and Customs Enforcement during the George W. Bush administration. “But you can’t fix this by just doing that.”

Over the past 13 years, Congress has increased funding for Customs and Border Protection, from $8 billion to $21.7 billion. But there hasn’t been the same investment in hiring asylum officers, immigration judges, and deportation officers.

“Politicians want to fund border patrol agents, fencing, and other visible aspects of border enforcement,” says Doris Meissner, director of the U.S. immigration policy program at the nonpartisan Migration Policy Institute. “But until resources are bolstered for other immigration functions, the border problem cannot be solved.”

If migrants tell judges they came to the U.S. in search of work, they could be deported. So they apply for asylum, knowing that gives them a fighting chance to stay.

To qualify for asylum, applicants must convince a judge that returning to their home country would result in harm or death on the basis of their race, religion, nationality, political opinion, or membership in a particular social group. But there aren’t nearly enough judges to hear more than 3 million pending asylum cases.

Some of the migrants are children whose parents sent them north to escape grinding poverty or violence back home. Antonio Diaz Mendez arrived at the border from Guatemala a couple of years ago as a 14-year-old and was placed with a sponsor in Florida City, Florida. He’s worked jobs that don’t require a work permit, including long hours at a refrigerated warehouse. He hasn’t told anyone back home about how hard it is.

“I don’t want them to worry about me,” he says.

If migrants tell judges they came to the U.S. in search of work, they could be deported. So they apply for asylum. They know that gives them a fighting chance to stay.

To qualify for asylum, applicants must convince a judge that returning to their home country would result in harm or death. The threats must be based on their race, religion, nationality, political opinion, or membership in a particular social group. But there aren’t nearly enough judges to hear more than 3 million pending asylum cases.

Some of the migrants are children whose parents sent them north to escape grinding poverty or violence back home. Antonio Diaz Mendez arrived at the border from Guatemala a few years ago, at 14. He was placed with a sponsor in Florida City, Florida. He worked jobs that don’t require a work permit, including long hours at a refrigerated warehouse. He hasn’t told anyone back home about how hard it is.

“I don’t want them to worry about me,” he says.

Applicants from countries mired in political upheaval or run by military dictators, such as Eritrea or Myanmar, are likely to be granted asylum, but claims from many other countries are far less likely to be granted. Even rejected applicants, however, are unlikely to be deported. With millions of people unlawfully in the U.S., deportation officers target those who’ve committed serious crimes and pose a safety threat.

Katy Chavez, an immigration lawyer in North Carolina, used to get a handful of calls a year from people seeking her services to apply for asylum. Now she gets a couple dozen a month. Many are migrants who had fled profound economic hardships.

“They are calling because they want their work permit,” she says. “They don’t even understand what asylum is.”

Applicants from countries mired in political upheaval or run by military dictators, such as Eritrea or Myanmar, are likely to be granted asylum. But claims from many other countries are far less likely to be granted. Even rejected applicants, however, are unlikely to be deported. With millions of people unlawfully in the U.S., deportation officers target those who’ve committed serious crimes and pose a safety threat.

Katy Chavez, an immigration lawyer in North Carolina, used to get a few calls a year from people wanting to apply for asylum. Now she gets a couple dozen a month. Many are migrants who had fled extreme economic hardships.

“They are calling because they want their work permit,” she says. “They don’t even understand what asylum is.”