The INS tried to turn administrative errors into a conspiracy to
defraud, attacking two organizations that have operated with
unimpeachable legal records in Seattle for nearly a decade.
Two unmarked sedans cruised past Miguel Orozco-Delgado as he
was walking his chil-
dren home from
school in early January
of last year. The cars
parked at opposite cor-
ners of the block in his
sleepy Seattle neigh-
borhood, and four
Immigration and
Naturalization Service
(INS) agents got out
and moved toward
him. “This is a sub-
poena to testify before
a federal grand jury,”
the INS agents told
him. “On the back of it
is some information
explaining how you
will get paid. We’re
going to pay you to
come and testify.”
“The way they gave me the sub-
poena was incredible,” Orozco, a
social worker, recalls. “They
assumed it was easy, because they
were getting all these people from
the street to testify by saying, ‘it’s
just a matter of going to court and
you get 40 dollars.’ They thought
Miguel Orozco (left) and Oscar Uceda-Carcamo (right) children. The INS accused the social workers of Temporary Protected Status (TPS) applications.
they were going to do the same
with me.”
The subpoena did not come as a
surprise to Orozco, because by
then he and another Seattle social
worker, Oscar Uceda-Carcamo,
had become the principal targets
in a massive INS investigation.
The heavy-handed delivery of the
subpoena typified the INS
approach to the case: intimidate
first, and ask questions later.
with their
falsifying
Orozco, a Mexican
citizen and permanent
U.S. resident, and
Carcamo, who is a
Salvadoran citizen
with political asylum
in the United States,
were prosecuted by
the Justice Department
for allegedly falsifying
documents while help-
ing prepare applica-
tions for Salvadoran
citizens seeking
Temporary Protected
Status (TPS) in the
United States. The
year-long investiga-
tion and intense two-
week jury trial ended
last December when
the two social workers
were acquitted of two
counts of conspiracy
and 10 counts of falsi-
fying documents.
The case illuminates the precari-
ous relationship between the INS
and undocumented Latino immi-
grants. On the one hand, the social
workers’ courtroom victory serves
notice that refugees from political
violence and economic impoverish-
ment in Central America can no
longer be summarily denied legal
rights in the United States. On the
other, the year-long INS investiga-
tion has shattered the Salvadoran
Vol XXVI, No 5 May 199311
Robert Self is an independent writer liv- ing in Seattle. He is a doctoral candidate
in U.S. and Latin American history at the
University of Washington.
Vol XXVI, No 5 May 1993 11UPDATE / SEATTLE
community in Seattle and jeopar- immigrant advocacy groups forced satisfy the September 19, 1990
dized local organizations that pro- Congress to include TPS for requirement. These initial visits
vide services to Latino immigrants. Salvadoran refugees in the Immi- revealed no specific targets, and
gration Act of 1990 (IMMACT). both CARP and NILS feared that
T he story begins in July of Applicants were required to have the entire TPS program in Seattle
1991 when INS agents arrived in the United States on or was potentially threatened. INS
began paying visits to the before September 19, 1990. interrogation of Salvadorans out-
offices of the Central American Designed to give refugees 18 side the offices was even more
Refugee Project (CARP), an out- months of work authorization and common, and the questions more
reach services program sponsored protection from deportation while specific. CARP and NILS officials
by the Washington Association of Congress evaluated the political began to learn from case workers
Churches. Carcamo was a CARP and social climate in El Salvador, that Salvadorans were being
case manager, responsible for the program seemed to provide a detained and interviewed in the
coordinating emergency shelter, window of calm for many of the streets, in places of employment,
job counseling, and medical and estimated 500,000 to one million and at home, generally late at
legal referrals for night. The inves-
Central American tigation came to
immigrants. hinge on a pre-
Across town, the A host of local individuals and organizations liminary list of
Northwest created a climate of support and solidarity that 18 Salvadorans
Immigrant Legal suspected of sub-
Services (NILS) has reawakened Seattle’s progressive community mitting falsified
offices, an “ecu- to the need for close and constant monitoring of TPS applica-
menical partner” tions.
of CARP, also immigrant and refugee rights. Employees of
began to receive
unannounced INS
visits. NILS has
consistently pressed INS officials
at the district office to observe
immigrant legal rights, respect
human decency, abandon needless
harassment, and observe proper
procedures and safeguards. Orozco
worked for NILS as a paralegal
counselor providing legal aid,
advice, and assistance for both
documented and undocumented
immigrants.
CARP and NILS (now the
Northwest Immigrant Rights
Project) share a common democra-
tic orientation which makes them
particularly vulnerable to INS
intimidation. Services are free, and
neither office discriminates against
undocumented immigrants. Both
organizations also have a history
of association with the Seattle
sanctuary movement-especially
during its height in the mid- and
late-1980s.
INS harassment began when the
two agencies were in the midst of
helping Salvadorans file for TPS.
Vigorous national lobbying by
Salvadorans currently in the
United States.
In the summer of 1991, both
CARP and NILS were inundated
with TPS applicants who needed
to prove that they had arrived in
the United States prior to the
September cut-off date. The CARP
staff provided letters attesting that
Salvadoran clients had been seen
by the agency prior to September
19, thus verifying their continuous
residence in the United States. The
NILS staff processed TPS applica-
tions before turning them over to
INS officials, assuring their legali-
ty while helping Salvadorans gath-
er the necessary documentation.
Orozco and Carcamo participated
in the initial TPS outreach project,
and in later stages helped their
clients prepare TPS applications.
At both agencies, the INS ques-
tioned employees about TPS: how
it worked, who processed the
applications, when refugees
appeared for services, and how
proof of residency was obtained to
the two agencies,
including Orozco
and Carcamo,
found their relationship to the
immigrant community increasingly
strained and threatened, as INS
agents tried to implicate CARP,
and later NILS, in criminal intent
to defraud. Concerned that federal
agents were needlessly interfering
with the ability of CARP and
NILS to function, John Boonstra,
executive minister of the Wash-
ington Association of Churches,
scheduled an August meeting with
INS District Director Richard
Smith. Boonstra wanted to clarify
the intentions of the INS and veri-
fy that CARP and NILS were par-
ticipating in the TPS procedure in
a legal manner.
Three days before the meeting,
Smith abruptly cancelled. Five
days later, 10 armed federal agents
from the INS and the U.S.
Attorney’s Office raided CARP
offices, seizing documents, client
files, computers, and personal
files. The affidavit supporting the
search warrant and naming the 18
Salvadorans under investigation
NACLA REPORT ON THE AMERICAS 12UPDATE / SEATTLE
was promptly sealed and remained
secret for five months. CARP
employees were left stunned and
immobilized.
he raid changed the dynam-
ics of the entire Latino com-
munity and the social-service
organizations with which they
interacted. Almost immediately,
CARP lost nearly its entire
Salvadoran clientele who now
clearly associated the office with
INS activity. For the
Salvadoran refugee
community, INS
agents bear an
extremely disturbing
association, one that
even other Latino
immigrants cannot
necessarily fathom.
Many refugees fled El
Salvador in the early
and mid-1980s when
death squads murder-
ed family members,
friends, and co-work-
ers. Whether inten-
tional or not, INS
interrogation tech-
niques in the United
States often rekindle de
images among Salv
Arriving in this country
often living and worki
aliases, most Salvadoran
risk any contact with go
representatives. The C
coincided with the feder
ment’s extension of the
deadline to October 3
Thus, CARP offices
“politicized” precisely
staff might have beei
accommodate and help m
Salvadoran applicants.
Though spared a sin
raid, the NILS office
increasing attention di
summer and fall of 19
case workers and parale
flooded with phone ca
Salvadorans seeking leg
and assistance because
been interrogated by IN
“We got a lot of people coming in
from the Salvadoran community
saying they were scared,” Orozco
recalls, “because the INS was
going to their homes, looking for
them, and leaving phone numbers
they were supposed to call.”
Agents combed homeless shelters,
restaurants-employers of large
numbers of Latino immigrants–
and apartment complexes, often
detaining and questioning
Salvadoran men and women in the
People from the Committee for Justice for Orozco a. demonstrate outside the federal courthouse during th
ath-squad presence of co-workers, employ-
adorans. ers, and friends. Many clients
secretly, reported late-night visits designed
ng under to maximize intimidation. “People
s will not learn to tell the authorities what
,vernment they want to hear,” one Salvadoran
ARP raid explained. “In El Salvador, if you
al govern- tell the police that you cooperate
TPS filing with the guerrillas, then you will
1, 1991. probably survive. They will put
became you in jail, but they won’t kill
when the you.” Vicky Stifter, NILS director,
able to called a July press conference to
iany more charge the INS with harassment,
intimidation and misconduct.
ilar INS Refugees reported to their legal
received counsel and later testified that they
uring the were threatened with deportation
91. NILS if they did not cooperate, or
gals were offered green cards in exchange
calls from for certain testimony. In several
al advice instances, Salvadorans were
they had offered jobs and promised that
S agents, their families would be flown to
the United States with legal pro-
tection. One Salvadoran, Jos6
Enrique Ramirez-Rauda, testified
in later interviews that INS agents
told him that if he did not cooper-
ate, the government would deport
his wife to El Salvador and void
his employment permit. With four
sons still in El Salvador, Rauda
was asked the same question as
innumerable other refugees during
this process: “Either you are lying
or someone else is lying. Which is
it?” Most refugees
were not informed of
their right to counsel
or their right to refuse
to answer questions,
both of which were
recently guaranteed in
the Rosa Melchor
Lopez court case in
Los Angeles.
In several of the 18
cases, attestation let-
ters provided by
CARP conflicted with
information regarding
dates of entry that
Salvadorans had pro-
nd Carcamo vided to the INS dur- e trial. ing the investigation.
The question, however, was one of
criminal intent. “In every
Washington Association of
Churches’ office,” Boonstra com-
mented at the time, “from my
immediate experience, mistakes
are made every day. There is no
felony misconduct. There is no
malicious, intentional, fraudulent
preparation of data.” Nevertheless,
INS agents were able to confront
Salvadorans with the inconsisten-
cies, and threaten them with depor-
tation unless they cooperated.
Stretching over 10 months, the
grand-jury hearings and street-side
INS investigation pitted individual
refugees against one another in a
classic example of divide-and-con-
quer interrogation.
In early 1992, Orozco and
Carcamo were subpoenaed to
appear before the federal grand
jury but, unlike the Salvadorans
Vof XXVI, No 5 May 1993 13 Vol XXVt, No 5 May 1993 13UPDATE / SEATTLE
whose testimony helped incrimi-
nate them, both were denied
immunity. In total, out of the orig-
inal 18, the U.S. Attorney’s office
narrowed the case to seven appli-
cations, and targeted Orozco and
Carcamo as individuals, absolving
the CARP and NILS offices and
staff. Already alienated from the
Salvadoran community because of
the constant mentioning of their
names in INS interviews, Orozco
Pretrial negotiations revealed
that even the chief prosecutor in
the case, Assistant U.S. Attorney
Paula Boggs, had considerable
doubts about the legitimacy of try-
ing the social workers as felons. In
the months preceding the trial, Boggs lobbied the U.S. Attorney’s
office to have the charges reduced
to misdemeanors and to eliminate
the two counts of conspiracy. But
the final word belonged to Mike
Both men have seen their own work
jeopardized and years of trust-building
destroyed. The larger immigrant community
is still struggling to repair the divisions
created by the investigation.
and Carcamo now found them-
selves isolated and threatened with
prosecution.
Orozco and Carcamo were
charged on August 20 of
last year with conspiring to
defraud the federal government by
knowingly falsifying the seven
applications for Temporary
Protected Status. If convicted, they
faced up to 30 years in prison and
fines of over $1 million.
The indictments made clear that
the investigation had become
politicized and that the govern-
ment would not stop short of crim-
inal proceedings. INS officials
refused to approach the directors
of CARP and NILS about poten-
tial mistakes on some applications.
During the trial and in later inter-
views, Orozco candidly admitted
that he had made a few technical
mistakes in the process of prepar-
ing hundreds of applications. The
INS tried to turn administrative
errors into a conspiracy to defraud, attacking two organizations that
have operated with unimpeachable
legal records in Seattle for nearly a
decade.
McKay, U.S. Attorney for Seattle.
McKay’s position was clear: it is
our perogative to prosecute, and
we will prosecute.
During the December trial, how-
ever, Boggs portrayed the INS as a
neutral, apolitical institution that
disinterestedly reviews simple
facts, while Orozco and Carcamo
were labeled “political activists”
whose personal biases dictated
their every action. The district
judge presiding over the case con-
sistently allowed this characteriza-
tion, but disallowed testimony
about the political history of INS
operations or the political context
of U.S. policy in Central America.
This scenario favored the INS with
its ability to call upon bureaucratic
legalism, definitions of “criminali-
ty,” and what many felt would be
the anti-Latino bias of a jury on
which no Latinos sat. The final
acquittal is testament to the weak-
ness of the government’s actual
case, and the compelling testimony
of Orozco and Carcamo.
The political undercurrents of
the investigation and trial attracted
the attention of the National
Sanctuary Defense Fund which
helped secure financial assistance
for the legal defense. Gus Schultz, regional coordinator for the
Defense Fund, saw the Seattle
case in the larger context of a
decade of INS assaults on sanctu-
ary programs and other non-profit
service-oriented projects dedicated
to Latin American refugees. His
office’s guidance, along with the
resolute backing of the
Washington Association of
Churches, the National Council of
Churches, and a host of local indi-
viduals and organizations (many
of which coalesced into the
Committee for Justice for Orozco
and Carcamo), created a climate of
support and solidarity that has
reawakened Seattle’s progressive
community to the need for close
and constant monitoring of immi-
grant and refugee rights. It has
also pointed to the need for much
closer integration between the
politically-oriented immigrant-
rights advocates and the service-
oriented organizations that help
Latinos obtain shelter, food and
employment.
Orozco and Carcamo have
returned to their normal lives. Both
men have seen their own work
jeopardized and years of trust-
building destroyed. Carcamo has
lost friends among Seattle’s
Salvadorans-people who were
asked to testify against him and
had their words weighed against
his in embarrassing confrontations
during the trial. “This is two years
of my life,” Carcamo says, “which
the INS cannot pay me for. People
I have helped in the past are now
against me.” The larger immigrant
community is still struggling to
repair the divisions created by the
investigation. While Seattle has
been slow to experience the tactics
and aggressive visibility of INS
agents common in Los Angeles,
San Francisco and Miami, the
Orozco-Carcamo case has galva-
nized and politicized this commu-
nity, and laid the groundwork for
future mobilization.
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