Was unable to get Congress to support his ideas for reform

Meet the new bill… Same as the old bill? 

In 2007, comprehensive reform of America’s troubled immigration system seemed about to happen at long last. After all, the Secure Borders, Economic Opportunity and Immigration Reform Act, crafted by a bipartisan team of legislators known as the “Gang of 12” and sponsored by Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, was backed by then-President George Bush as well as the leaders of both major political parties in both houses of Congress. What could possibly go wrong? 

Six years later, the answer is obvious. Far right-wing elements of the Republican party, coupled with conservative radio talk show hosts led by Rush Limbaugh, cynically re-framed the complicated legislation as simply providing amnesty – or “shamnesty” for “illegal immigrants”, as they cleverly re-branded it the proposed bill. 

But opponents to reform did not stop there. Ratcheting up the rhetoric, Limbaugh warned on his nationally syndicated radio programme that Mexican immigrants who illegally entered the US were not only “poor and unwilling to work”, but also “a renegade, potential criminal element”. Fellow shock jock Michael Savage went further, vowing to “derail this train of treason” and urging his listeners to “stop Bush from dropping the ‘I Bomb’ on America”. Bill O’Reilly, another top-rated talker, said supporters of immigration reform “hate America, and they hate it because it’s run primarily by white Christian men”. O’Reilly added, “There is a movement in this country to wipe out ‘white privilege’ and to have the browning of America.” 

The hate speech, exaggeration and demagoguery did not end there, however. Even as some Republican lawmakers tried their best to placate the shock jocks, even to the point of accepting their ideas for amendments to the proposed legislation, others who stood up to them received only threats in return. Senator Mel Martinez, a conservative Republican from Florida, for example, received a threatening letter at his home. Senator Richard Burr, a conservative Republican from North Carolina, said his office received a telephone call that “made a threat about knowing where I lived”. Several other senators, including Lindsey Graham of South Carolina, also received threats in letters and telephone calls. At least one email sent to senators was forwarded to law enforcement authorities, since it concluded by sayingsupporters of the bill “need to be taken out by any means”.  

“I’m sure a lot of people who have taken a high-profile position on this have been threatened,” noted Senator Graham. “But what are you going to do?” What indeed? Ultimately, of course, the threats and raw political muscle used against the “shamnesty” bill proved successful, and any hope of comprehensive immigration reform was scuttled – until now. 

Today, as conventional wisdom has it, comprehensive immigration reform in the US is once again about to become a reality – or is it? A bipartisan team of legislators – this time a “Gang of Eight” – has come together again to craft a careful compromise, one backed by the president and leaders of both parties. Despite this broad support for immigration overhaul, however, the warning flags are flying, and success is anything but guaranteed. This is particularly true in the wake of the recent inability of Congress to pass even modest gun legislation – not to mention the recent terrorist bombing in Boston by two recent immigrants to the US. As the New York Times recently reported: 

“The warning does not mean failure, especially since most Republicans believe that immigration changes, unlike gun legislation, would help them politically. But it does indicate that the road to consensus on immigration will be far bumpier than the narrative on Capitol Hill suggests.” 

The immigration bill, like the failed gun control legislation, has to first pass muster with the Senate Judiciary Committee, where the same partisanship that defeated the gun bill despite the fact that 90 percent of the American people favoured it, are now threatening to scuttle immigration reform as well. Several senators, including the lead Republican on the committee, Iowa’s Charles Grassley, have already suggested that the bombings in Boston should become part of the immigration debate – a volatile notion in a country still scarred and preoccupied by the deaths and severe injuries caused by the attack. 

Despite the apparent support for reform both in Congress and among the populace, there is still a very real chance that the new immigration deal will fall apart once again, just as in the past. Even if the Senate’s “Gang of 8” is successful in keeping their end of the bargain together, there is still the politically-riven House of Representatives to factor in. Frank Sharry, the executive director of the immigrant advocacy group America’s Voice, told the Times: 

“I think the opposition is counting on mistrust of government, hatred of Obama and the idea that Congress can’t get anything right to combine as the pathway to no.” 

Supporters of the reform point to its broad support from such disparate groups as the US Chamber of Commerce and labour unions. Nonetheless, as Sharry notes, “We have a real roller coaster ride ahead.” The same was true in 2007, and the end result was that the Comprehensive Immigration Reform Act was voted down and left for dead. Will it happen again? 

Rory O’Connor is the author of Nukespeak: The Selling of Nuclear Technology from the Manhattan Project to Fukushima, and most, recently, Friends, Followers and the Future: How Social Media are Changing Politics, Threatening Big Brands, and Killing Traditional Media.

Kennedy's domestic agenda, outlined in his “New Frontier” acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention in July 1960, faced a difficult passage through Congress. The president was unable to call on the Democratic majority in Congress to support his most progressive legislative reforms, and many Southerners in his own party—several of whom chaired its most powerful committees—were suspicious of Kennedy, his northeast establishment background, and his domestic priorities. Time and again, Kennedy thought he had little choice but to compromise on his legislative program.

Economic and Legislative Challenges

Kennedy took office in the depths of the fourth major recession since World War II. Business bankruptcies had reached their highest level since the 1930s, farm incomes had decreased 25 percent since 1951, and 5.5 million Americans were looking for work. To stimulate the economy, Kennedy pursued legislation to lower taxes, protect the unemployed, increase the minimum wage, and energize the business and housing sectors. Kennedy believed these measures would launch an economic boom that would last until the late 1960s.

His advisers thought it possible to “fine tune” the economy through fiscal and monetary adjustments. Kennedy accepted their advice and was impressed with their expertise, which seemed to bear fruit. Partly as a result of the administration's efforts to pump money into domestic and military spending, the recession faded by the end of Kennedy's first year in office. The president also proposed new social programs including federal aid to education, medical care for the elderly, urban mass transit, a Department of Urban Affairs, and regional development in Appalachia.

Lacking deep congressional support, however, Kennedy's programs encountered resistance. He did manage an increase in the minimum wage, but a major medical program for the elderly went nowhere. Attempts to cut taxes and broaden civil rights were watered down on Capitol Hill. Southern Democrats killed the proposal for a Department of Urban Affairs because they thought Kennedy would appoint an African American as its first secretary. The education bill foundered on the question of aid to parochial schools; Kennedy, as a Catholic, opposed such aid to maintain his credibility with the electorate. His successor as president—a Protestant—was under no such constraints and would pass a bill providing aid for parochial education. On the positive side of the ledger, the government undertook regional development in Appalachia, an initiative that would have a major impact over the next three decades in reducing poverty in the region.

Civil Rights

But by far the most volatile—and divisive—domestic issue of the day was civil rights. African Americans were striving to reverse centuries of social and economic hardship, and activism against legalized racism was growing. This activism was troubling to many whites, particularly in the South. Kennedy's role—or lack of it—in this great crusade remains controversial. In short, he concentrated more on enforcing existing civil rights laws than on passing new ones.

Moreover, the president had to bow to the custom of “senatorial courtesy” and appoint federal judges in the South who were acceptable to Southern Democratic senators. These judges were opposed to civil rights enforcement, and their record was much worse than that of judges appointed in the South by President Dwight Eisenhower, a Republican who was under no such party constraints. On several occasions, Kennedy invoked some of the highest powers of his office to send troops to Southern states that were refusing the racial integration of their schools.

In September 1962, a long-running effort by James Meredith, a black Mississippian and veteran of eight years in the US Air Force, to enroll at the traditionally white University of Mississippi (Ole Miss) came to head. When Governor Ross Barnett of Mississippi defied federal court rulings allowing Meredith to enroll at the university, Kennedy, through his brother Robert, the attorney general, federalized the Mississippi National Guard and ordered an escort of federal marshals to accompany Meredith to the campus. Meredith finally enrolled on October 1, 1962, but not without a violent riot that took thousands of guardsmen and armed soldiers fifteen hours to quell. Hundreds were injured, and two died.

During 1963, the civil rights struggle grew increasingly intense and occasioned increasing violence. Images of black citizens, including children, being attacked by dogs and hosed down by water canons in Birmingham, Alabama, shocked Americans. For their part, African American activists, alongside Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., proclaimed their impatience with “tokenism and gradualism . . . We can't wait any longer.” From the persistence of the Freedom Riders in 1961 seeking to desegregate buses in the South—in the face of great personal peril—to the huge “March on Washington” in August 1963 at which King delivered his “I Have a Dream” speech to an audience of a quarter of a million people, it was clear that the civil rights movement was not going to fade away and was, in fact, galvanizing. And when four children were killed that September in a racially motivated bombing of a church in Birmingham, Alabama, Kennedy once again chose to intervene.

Kennedy's political strategy had been to delay sending a civil rights bill to Congress until his second term, when he could afford to split his party and pick up the backing of moderate Republicans to pass the measure. He felt that if he pursued such legislation in his first term, the rest of his program would suffer. However, African Americans remained frustrated by the political maneuvering and insisted on immediate action to protect their rights. Following the June 11, 1963, confrontation with Alabama governor George C. Wallace over the integration of that state’s flagship university, as well as the murder of Mississippi NAACP field director Medgar Evers early the next morning, Kennedy submitted a civil rights bill to Congress, which became law after his death. In a televised speech announcing his decision, he observed that the grandchildren of the slaves freed by Lincoln “are not yet freed from the bonds of injustice.”