http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/la- ... util-op-ed

The mayor's immigration dilemma
Gregory Rodriguez

May 14, 2006

MAYOR Antonio Villaraigosa is one smooth dude. That's why many political observers have found it so odd that His Honor stumbles and squirms when having to deal with the issue of illegal immigration.

First there was the question of whether he would even be in Los Angeles for the "Day Without Immigrants" march, an event that he endorsed. Then, when it turned out he would be here, it was unclear until the very last moment whether he'd make an appearance at the march. And let's not forget his clearly contrived indignation at the national anthem being sung in Spanish. "I was offended," he solemnly declared to CNN's Wolf Blitzer — this from a politician who was happy to deliver the Democrats' response to this year's State of the Union address in Spanish.

One critic accused the mayor of "awkwardly straddling opposing sides of a political chasm." Another thought he was torn between the two poles of his political persona — the outsider activist versus the insider official. Still others figured he was hedging his bets, like any good politician. But more than anything else, Villaraigosa's dilemma stems from his need to balance his ethnic and national identities, the two sides of his hyphenated self, Mexican and American.

Plenty of American politicians wish the issue of immigration reform would go away. Just ask Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist. But immigration is particularly vexing to Mexican American pols, who get caught in the middle of a battle they'd rather not fight.

Like so many other politicians throughout U.S. history, Mexican American candidates usually seek to leverage their ethnicity to win elections and gain access to the mainstream. They unabashedly appeal to their Latino base, but, once in office, they seek to broaden their profile, with their next bid for a higher post in mind.

But that's where the parallels with other ethnicities stop. Irish and Italian politicians at the turn of the 20th century, for instance, had the luxury of making their move beyond ethnicity as European immigration tapered off. Their base merged into the mainstream with them. But Mexican American immigration is ongoing, and Mexican American officials are continuously forced to deal with that fact. Just as they are about to get out from under the glass ceiling of ethnic politics, the issue of immigration draws them back in.

And that's not the only source of political discomfort. Mexicans and Mexican Americans have always had an ambivalent relationship characterized as much by competition and conflict as by cooperation. For much of the 20th century, U.S.-born Mexican Americans were acutely aware that the influx of newcomers made it more difficult for them to be recognized as full Americans. They knew that an anti-Mexican-immigrant backlash could not really distinguish between citizens and noncitizens. It was not uncommon for U.S.-born Mexican Americans to disassociate themselves from the newcomers in order to avoid being stigmatized.

In the 1970s and '80s, the ethnic pride movement and the emergence of the "Hispanic market" changed all that. Suddenly, more U.S.-born Mexican Americans were conscious not only of their links to the new immigrants but of the fact that Latino population growth provided greater opportunities for them in the economy and in politics.

Still, the ambivalence wasn't totally erased. One recent poll from the Pew Hispanic Center found that even though 55% of U.S.-born Latinos think illegal immigrants help the economy, 60% support laws that prohibit them from receiving driver's licenses.

I don't doubt the sincerity of Villaraigosa's position that some undocumented workers should be given a shot at earning U.S. citizenship. But like so many Latinos whose families have been citizens for generations, he is clearly uncomfortable when others don't distinguish between Mexican Americans and illegal immigrants. Yet by using the first person plural "we" at the immigration protests — "We come to work. We come for a better life" — Villaraigosa added to the confusion that he evidently resents.

Last January, the mayor was stunned by the implications of a question he fielded while appearing on C-SPAN's "Washington Journal." A caller from Arkansas declared: "It's only after the influx of illegals that you were elected, sir. How is that possible?" "Are you kidding?" Villaraigosa blurted. Then, after a long pause, he added, "I was born in the United States."

Today, as always, the presence of foreign-born Mexicans in the U.S. gives many the impression that all ethnic Mexicans just arrived yesterday. Last June, the New York Times was obliged to print a correction stating that Villaraigosa was "born in Los Angeles; he is not an immigrant." For nearly a century, the influx of immigrants — legal and illegal — has carried the specter of delegitimizing Mexican Americans' hard-earned rights as citizens.

That's why Villaraigosa was waving that enormous American flag on May 1 — he was warding off the inevitable accusations that he was favoring his ethnic identity over his national identity. Despite the difficulties and discomfort inherent in being a hyphenate, he pulled it off pretty well.