Immigrants: The Last Time America Sent Her Own Packing

Contrary to what was being propagated, Mexicans in Los Angeles did not impose a disproportionate strain on welfare services during the Depression. This is according to Decade and Abraham Hoffman, whose dissertation and subsequent book, Unwanted Mexican Americans in the Great Depression, examined repatriation from a Los Angeles perspective. Based on the county’s own figures, Mexicans comprised an average of only 10 percent of those on relief. Nonetheless, repatriation was promoted and widely viewed as an effective means of diminishing welfare rolls, and Mexico’s proclaimed plans for agricultural expansion conveniently complemented the movement. Indeed, Thomson traveled extensively throughout Mexico to survey proposed work sites and hold negotiations at various levels of the Mexican government, including the ministry of foreign affairs and the presidency. Some Mexican officials were so eager to get Thomson’s repatriates, he later recalled, he was personally offered a bounty of land for each. ‘One time I was met by the governor of Quintaneroo. He offered me 17 and a half hectares (44 acres) for every repatriated individual I sent there to cut sisal and I said ‘Absolutely no.” Thomson claimed repatriates were in high demand across the border. ‘They brought across skills and industrial discipline,’ he said. ‘At that time, if you could repair a Model T Ford, that was quite an art.’

Thomson’s program — and its seemingly fantastic results — attracted the attention of state and local leaders from around the country, and his practice of engaging the Mexican government was copied as well. In the fall of 1932, Ignacio Batiza, the Mexican consul in Detroit, urged his compatriots to return home and ‘accept this opportunity which is offered them.’ While Batiza may have believed his country’s promises of cooperation, others did not. A pamphlet circulated by a group called the International Labor Defense warned that thousands of workers choosing to return to Mexico would die of hunger. This was the end of 1932, and the feasibility of Mexico’s grand plans was not yet widely challenged.

With a population of less than 15 million in the early years of the Depression, Mexico needed more workers to attain its goal of land transformation. Even as the Depression took hold, the Mexican government proceeded with its agricultural development plans, which would include repatriated nationals — especially those with farming skills. During that time, ‘They are proclaiming workers’ rights,’ Balderrama explained. ‘If they’re not accepting of the repatriates, that calls into question what they’re all about.’ In the end, however, the government’s post-revolutionary zeal eclipsed a hard reckoning of the facts. The returning mass of impoverished pilgrims from the United States would strain an already fragile economy. Officially, at least, the government welcomed the compatriots from the north, underscoring its proclamation of Mexicanism and support for workers’ rights.

Mexico struggled to cope with the deluge of new arrivals. Hungry and sick travelers crowded into border towns such as Ciudad Juárez and Nogales, where paltry food and medical supplies ensured a daily death count. There are many accounts of border towns crowded with people, as the train connections were not well organized. One repatriado reported: ‘Many that come here don’t have any place to go. They don’t have any idea of where they are going or what they’ll do. Some families just stayed down at the railway station.’

In an attempt to manage the crisis, Mexican governmental agencies joined several private organizations to create the National Repatriation Committee in 1933. The first colonization project undertaken by this august assembly was Pinotepa Nacional, located in a fertile tropical area of southern Mexico. Modern farming equipment and mules, along with food and other provisions, were made available to the farmers, who were to earn their equity through produce. And while the crops grew quickly, this highly touted proletarian collective proved to be a disastrous failure beset with complaints about mistreatment and meager food rations. The project’s final undoing came from disease, as the land was rife with poisonous insects. Sixty people died within 20 days, according to a settler who had left after one month, taking his three small sons with him. ‘Some have families and can’t leave very well,’ he told one researcher. ‘But my boys and I could. We walked to Oaxaca. It took us eight days.’

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