By Qamar Bashir
The United States was founded as a nation of immigrants—a place where people from every corner of the world sought refuge, dignity, and opportunity. Apart from the Native Americans, everyone who calls America home today descends from immigrants who crossed oceans and deserts to rebuild their lives on its soil. From the earliest settlers of England, Ireland, and Germany to the waves of Italians, Poles, and Jews who followed, immigration was never just a demographic process—it was America’s identity, its heartbeat, and its greatest strength.
For more than two centuries, immigration fueled the growth of the American economy, populated its vast frontiers, and shaped its unmatched diversity. Yet, the same nation that once prided itself on being a beacon for the oppressed has gradually turned hostile toward the very idea of immigration itself—especially when the immigrants come with darker skin, foreign tongues, or unfamiliar faiths.
Historically, the earliest immigrants were Europeans—white, Christian, and culturally similar to the Anglo founders. Assimilation was easy because whiteness acted as a passport to belonging. By 1900, nearly 80 percent of America’s foreign-born population came from Europe. Even then, there were prejudices against Italians, Irish, and Eastern Europeans, but time erased their differences. Within a generation, the children of Polish or German immigrants were “simply American.”
But the narrative changed after the U.S. began military and political interventions in non-white regions—from Vietnam to Iraq, Libya, Syria, and Afghanistan. These wars displaced millions, many of whom sought refuge in the very country that had destabilized their homelands. Asylum seekers from the Middle East, Latin America, and Africa arrived not out of choice, but desperation. Unlike their European predecessors, their darker skin and unfamiliar cultures became barriers to assimilation.
According to the Migration Policy Institute, nearly 45 million immigrants now live in the United States—making up about 13.7 percent of the total population. Yet, attitudes toward them remain deeply divided along racial lines. Surveys by Pew Research (2024) show that over 60 percent of white conservatives believe immigrants “burden the nation,” while 70 percent of non-white Americans view them as vital contributors to the economy.
Under the Trump administration’s second term, America is witnessing an unprecedented tightening of immigration laws. The new Senate immigration bill, reportedly enjoying bipartisan momentum, seeks to cut off federal and state benefits to all immigrants, regardless of legal status—permanent residents, work-visa holders, or even those who have contributed taxes for years. It is a striking shift from the nation’s foundational promise that anyone who works hard and abides by the law can earn both livelihood and dignity.
Simultaneously, federal and transport departments are enforcing regulations that restrict immigrant participation in key industries such as trucking, logistics, and services. Commercial driving licenses for immigrants are being rescinded, and companies employing non-citizen drivers face heavy penalties. The crackdown extends beyond the workplace: ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) has intensified raids and detentions across states, with reports of overcrowded detention centers and deportations even of long-time green-card holders.
These policies have drawn resistance from governors, business owners, and human-rights groups, who argue that the U.S. economy relies heavily on immigrant labor. In healthcare alone, foreign-born workers constitute nearly 17 percent of the workforce, including 28 percent of physicians and surgeons. In hospitality, agriculture, and construction, immigrants represent between 30 and 50 percent of employees. The restaurant and hotel sectors—worth over $1.1 trillion annually—would collapse without them.
America’s anti-immigration wave is not rooted in economics but politics. The irony is that while immigrants are blamed for “stealing jobs,” unemployment in 2025 remains near 3.9 percent, and companies are desperate for workers. According to the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, there are 9 million unfilled jobs, many in sectors shunned by native-born Americans due to low wages or high physical demands.
Historically, immigrants have powered America’s economic rise. More than 40 percent of Fortune 500 companies were founded by immigrants or their children—names like Google, Tesla, Pfizer, and Apple. Collectively, these companies contribute over $8 trillion to the U.S. economy each year. Yet, today, the same immigrants who sustain the economy are vilified as threats to national security and social order.
Social-media platforms echo with xenophobic calls to “deport them all,” forgetting that the nation’s wealth was built not only on the labor of immigrants but also on the exploitation of other nations. The United States and its NATO allies waged decades of wars in resource-rich regions—extracting oil, minerals, and trade routes—and then turned away the refugees of those same wars. Libya’s collapse, Syria’s civil war, and Afghanistan’s disintegration are all painful reminders that Western intervention created chaos whose human cost now knocks at their own doors.
America’s short political memory compounds the tragedy. Each administration rewrites the moral code of migration. Obama expanded DACA and refugee resettlement; Trump dismantled both. Biden restored limited protections, but the political pendulum swung back again with renewed hostility. The result is a system that treats immigrants as expendable assets—welcomed when needed, discarded when convenient.
Even worse, detention centers have multiplied, with National Guard units deployed in several states to assist ICE. Civil-rights lawyers document cases of long-time residents deported without trial, separating families and traumatizing children. The American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) reports over 200,000 deportations in 2025 alone—many involving individuals who have lived in the U.S. for more than a decade.
The roots of this crisis are moral and structural. America cannot destabilize other nations through wars, sanctions, and regime change, then demonize those who flee the wreckage. Immigration is the mirror of foreign policy. Every missile dropped abroad creates another migrant seeking safety.
If the United States wishes to curb immigration sustainably, it must let other nations live with dignity—free from exploitation of their oil, minerals, and industries. Let their people build prosperity at home instead of being forced to cross borders for survival. China’s model offers an instructive contrast: by investing in its own citizens through education, infrastructure, and industry, it has sharply reduced outward migration.
America, too, must return to its founding promise—one that values people not by color or country, but by character and contribution. Instead of walls and bans, it needs reforms that regularize honest workers, integrate them through civic education, and penalize employers who exploit them.
The world once admired the United States for its open arms, not its closed borders. The Statue of Liberty still stands in New York Harbor, holding a torch once meant to light the path for the “huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” But today, that light flickers. A nation that rose from the dreams of immigrants risks collapsing under the weight of its own fear and hypocrisy.
To preserve its greatness, America must remember its origin story. It was not whiteness, wealth, or weapons that built this country—it was human hope. And hope knows no color, no visa, and no border.
By Qamar Bashir
Press Secretary to the President (Rtd)
Former Press Minister, Embassy of Pakistan to France
Former Press Attaché to Malaysia
Former MD, SRBC | Macomb, Michigan, USA
