Biden’s border asylum application endangers migrants waiting months

(Bloomberg) — Domiciano Estrada Cruz fled gang violence at his home in southern Mexico to seek asylum at the U.S. border crossing in Tijuana. He was prepared with a series of documents documenting his family’s case. But Mexican officials explained that they would need to seek protection digitally: using an app.

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She downloaded CBP One, the asylum solution implemented by the US government earlier this year, and created an account to request an appointment. At first, Estrada, 40, felt hopeful. Mexican officials told him he would likely receive a position in two to four weeks. Almost four months later, he is still waiting.

“The days are long and full of faith, full of faith that it will be my turn, that they will give me an appointment,” Estrada said, looking at a pair of dusty boots, a relic of the ranch to which he was forced to leave after having been violently attacked. “But it’s not like that”.

The app displays the same message as the day you signed up: “Please wait.”

This is the sly and impersonal gateway to the asylum process that migrants and refugees have experienced through CBP One, which is now one of the main avenues for seeking protection in the United States. As migrants and refugees from Ukraine to Venezuela arrive at the southern border in historic numbers, their presence has put immigration at the forefront of voters’ minds ahead of the 2024 presidential election. President Joe Biden has argued that can bring order to the border while preserving pathways for people to enter the country legally, taking a more high-tech approach. CBP One is part of the commitment to achieve a more modern and streamlined asylum system.

But defenders say the app, developed partly within the agency and partly through contracts, has crucial flaws. It is available only in Spanish, English and Haitian Creole, a poor combination for the growing number of people seeking asylum on the southern border from Africa and Asia, not to mention those who speak indigenous languages. Immigrants must also have a smartphone to use the app, a major barrier for many fleeing poverty.

The biggest problem, advocates say, is the shortage of appointments. Spaces are largely assigned at random, and months-long waits like Estrada’s are not uncommon. Wait times are compounded by many immigrants’ confusion about how to use the app, which involves high stakes and a lack of technical support. Some migrants and refugees, particularly the elderly, are using smartphones for the first time; others delete their registration when appointments don’t materialize after a few weeks, losing their spots in line.

“There’s nothing better than an app when we’re talking about people who have never used a smartphone before and never used an app before, let alone an app with life-or-death consequences,” said Ari Sawyer, a border researcher at Human Rights monitoring. “People need to be able to come to the port of entry and apply for asylum.”

As migrants languish in northern Mexico, reports of kidnappings and extortion are increasing. The dangerous conditions push many of them to hire human traffickers to help them cross, Sawyer said. He undermines one of the Biden administration’s main justifications for CBP One: creating more opportunities for immigrants to enter the country legally, so they don’t need to do business with coyotes in the first place.

Read more: How Snapchat and TikTok became recruiting tools for cartel-backed smugglers

CBP says the app has made it possible to “process migrants more efficiently” while eliminating smugglers, allowing 324,000 people to schedule appointments to file their cases at a U.S. port of entry between its introduction in January. and the end of October. According to spokesperson Erin Waters, two-thirds of recent users received appointments in less than eight weeks. “CBP continually monitors and evaluates the application to ensure its functionality and protect against bad actors.”

A senior CBP official rejected the idea that relying on the app has created a dangerous situation for migrants. Instead, it allows them to seek entry into the United States without resorting to cartels that facilitate illegal border crossings between ports of entry, the official said.

CBP One is just one part of the US government’s increasingly digital approach to border management. The wall that runs along much of the border between the United States and Mexico is full of drones, cameras and sensors. The government has steadily increased its use of facial recognition at the border. To use CBP One, migrants must upload a selfie and enable GPS tracking. It’s a level of data collection they can’t really consent to, forced out of desperation, said Franco Giandana, a policy analyst at the digital rights nonprofit Access Now.

When migrants reach the border between the United States and Mexico, “there is no turning back. What are they going to do? Will they return to their country of origin, where they suffer poverty or persecution by their government? Giandana said. “It’s not a possibility.”

Human trafficking rings have also taken advantage of the confusion surrounding the app and found new ways to profit. The Tech Transparency Project, a research arm of the nonprofit Campaign for Accountability, found some Facebook ads from Meta Platforms Inc. promising help with CBP One. “Fulfill your AMERICAN DREAM in less than 30 DAYS!!!” !!!” an advertisement read in Spanish, according to TTP. Although the ads appeared to be scams, they served as a reminder of how new immigration controls introduced by the United States often generate business for groups promising a way around them. A Meta spokesperson said the company works hard to prevent scams from spreading on the platform.

To dispel some of the confusion surrounding CBP One, the nonprofit immigration organization Al Otro Lado holds weekly training sessions on the application and other facets of the asylum process at its offices in Tijuana, which borders San Diego, California. Estrada was one of about 50 immigrants and refugees who gathered last week, along with his niece and his three-year-old son. He sent the boy to a makeshift classroom, where a dozen children were making snowflakes out of sheets of white paper.

While waiting for the session to begin, Estrada checked TikTok, where she found a series of posts celebrating immigrants who had landed the coveted spots. Some had higher registration numbers, indicating that they registered later than him. “They have advanced and I am far behind,” said Estrada, who spoke in Spanish. “It makes me sad, why not us?”

A lawyer began the session by asking the group if they had had any problems with the app’s issues and glitches. Many in the audience nodded in agreement. From a seat near the back, Gloria, a 33-year-old woman from southern Mexico, listened as best she could while trying to calm her 1-year-old son, whose eyes and nose were scabby from an illness he acquired at the shelter where he was staying. they host Every morning, she logs into the app when the window opens to request an appointment, right at 9 a.m., or no later than 9:02 or 9:03, if one of her four children has made it. distracted.

“You make the appointment and that’s it,” said Gloria, who left her house for safety reasons and asked that only part of her name be used. “After that, she is in God’s hands.”

But that day, his app was frozen. Each time she entered her login information, it sent her back to the home screen, which displays an image of the ornate CBP seal.

After nearly two months at the border, Patricia Campos, an asylum seeker from El Salvador, is tormented by the thought that others have cut the line. Passing through southern Mexico, she and her husband turned down lawyers who offered to help them get appointments for a fee of $100. They’ve also heard rumors of more tech-savvy immigrants using GPS simulation apps to join the line before reaching the border. But Campos is determined to follow the rules and says she is grateful for the appointments made available to her. “At least there is hope,” she says.

About a mile from the nonprofit offices, Miguel Portillo, a 24-year-old Venezuelan migrant, was sitting in the shade outside the U.S. port of entry. Finally it was his turn to speak with American officials. He arrived there at 7:30 am for his 1:00 pm appointment, leaving nothing to chance after all the anxiety of waiting. When he finally got a position, he cried. In that moment, “I freed myself from everything: the stress, the fear,” he said.

The Biden administration says it has taken steps to improve CBP One, revamping the app to make sure those with slow internet connections are not disadvantaged and prioritizing those who have been waiting the longest. The number of appointments offered each day has also increased. The average wait time for non-Mexicans is two months after making an account and requesting an appointment, according to the senior CBP official. For Mexicans, the waiting time is currently just over 3 months, the official said. There is a limit on the daily allocation of appointments for Mexicans to prevent them from becoming the overwhelming nationality represented, the official said.

Estrada is still waiting. Since he requested his appointment, more family members have arrived in Tijuana. He doesn’t want to lose his place by creating a new reservation for the whole family, but he also can’t stand the idea of ​​crossing without them.

When the training concluded, Estrada and his family retired to a room they rented in the city. In the middle of the night, they were awakened by armed intruders who stole their cell phones, the little money they had on hand, and their identification documents.

In the days since the robbery, Estrada and his family have had difficulty sleeping and have had nightmares. He tried to apply for asylum appointments about 1,500 miles away, in Brownsville, Texas, hoping to find a shorter line. But he abandoned the plan when he realized that he no longer had enough money for the bus ticket. He is more determined than ever to get to the United States, if not for himself, then at least for his family.

“It’s the only country where I will feel safe with my children,” he said, “the only place where we will be protected.”

–With the help of Ellen M Gilmer.

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