Alone among major world powers, the United States feels it must apologize for the right to control its own borders.
A flagrant example of this occurred four years ago–in May, 2010.
First Lady Michelle Obama-accompanied by Margarita Zavala, the wife of then-Mexican President Felipe Calderón, was visiting a second-grade class in Silver Spring, Md.

During a question-and-answer session, a Hispanic girl said to the First Lady: “My mom said, I think, she says that Barack Obama’s taking everybody away that doesn’t has papers.”
Michelle Obama replied, “Yeah, well, that’s something we have to work on, right, to make sure that people can be here with the right kind of papers, right?”
To which the girl replied, “But my mom doesn’t have [papers].”
“Well, we have to work on that,” said Obama. “We have to fix that. Everybody’s got to work together on that in Congress to make sure that happens.”
But many Americans believe the United States has no right to control its own borders. Among these is Deepak Bhargava, executive director of the Center for Community Change.
“The truth is that more mothers and fathers were deported in Obama’s first year as president than were deported in the last year under Bush.”
“Mr. Obama, who so eloquently spoke of the pain and anguish caused by tearing families apart as a candidate, as president has only ramped up that pain and anguish,” said Bhargava.
Michelle Obama is the wife of the nation’s chief law enforcement officer–the President of the United States.
Yet on the day following the girl’s public admission, the Department of Homeland Security announced that its immigration agents would not be pursuing the family:
“ICE [Immigration and Customs Enforcement] is a federal law enforcement agency that focuses on smart, effective immigration enforcement that prioritizes criminal aliens who pose a threat to our communities.
“Our investigations are based on solid law enforcement work and not classroom Q and As.”
“The girl is in school and we’re doing everything we can to keep her safe,” said Brian Edwards, chief of staff for the Montgomery County public schools.
Depending on the source, the estimated number of illegal aliens within the United States ranges from about 7 to 20 million or more.
Click here: Illegal immigrants in the US: How many are there? – CSMonitor.com
Among other equally disturbing statistics:
- Between 1992 and 2012, the number of offenders sentenced in federal courts more than doubled, driven largely by a 28-fold increase in the number of unlawful reentry convictions.
- As unlawful reentry convictions increased, the demographics of sentenced offenders changed.
- In 1992, Latinos made up 23% of sentenced offenders; by 2012, they made up 48%.
- The share of offenders who did not hold U.S. citizenship increased over the same period—from 22% to 46%.
Now, contrast this with the way Mexico insists on controlling its own borders.
Mexico has a single, streamlined law that ensures that foreign visitors and immigrants are:
- in the country legally;
- have the means to sustain themselves economically;
- not destined to be burdens on society;
- of economic and social benefit to society;
- of good character and have no criminal records; and
- contribute to the general well-being of the nation.
The law also ensures that:
- immigration authorities have a record of each foreign visitor;
- foreign visitors do not violate their visa status;
- foreign visitors are banned from interfering in the country’s internal politics;
- foreign visitors who enter under false pretenses are imprisoned or deported;
- foreign visitors violating the terms of their entry are imprisoned or deported;
- those who aid in illegal immigration are sent to prison.
Mexico uses its American border to rid itself of those who might otherwise demand major reforms in the country’s political and economic institutions.
The Mexican Government still remembers the bloody upheaval known as the Mexican Revolution. This lasted ten years (1910-1920) and wiped out an estimated one to two million men, women and children.
Massacres were common on all sides, with men shot by the hundreds in bullrings or hung by the dozen on trees.
A Mexican Revolution firing squad
All of the major leaders of the Revolution–Francisco Madero, Emiliano Zapata, Venustiano Carranza, Francisco “Pancho” Villa, Alvaro Obregon–died in a hail of bullets.
Francisco “Pancho” Villa
Emiliano Zapata
As a result, every successive Mexican Government has lived in the shadow of another such wholesale bloodletting. These officials have thus quietly decided to turn the United States border into a safety valve.
If potential revolutionaries leave Mexico to find a better life in the United States, the Government doesn’t have to fear the rise of another “Pancho” Villa.
If somehow the United States managed to seal its southern border, all those teeming millions of “undocumented workers” who just happened to lack any documents would have to stay in “Mexico lindo.”
They would be forced to live with the rampant corruption and poverty that have forever characterized this failed nation-state. Or they would have to demand substantial reforms.
There is no guarantee that such demands would not lead to a second–and equally bloody–Mexican revolution.
So successive Mexican governments find it easier–and safer–to turn the United States into a dumping ground for the Mexican citizens that the Mexican Government itself doesn’t want.




ABC NEWS, CBS NEWS, CNN, FACEBOOK, MAFIA, MOVIES, NARCOTICS CORRUPTION, NBC NEWS, NYPD, POLICE CORRUPTION, PRINCE OF THE CITY, ROBERT LEUCI, RUDLOPH GIULIANI, SIDNEY LUMET, THE LOS ANGELES TIMES, THE NEW YORK TIMES, THE WASHINGTON POST, TREAT WILLIAMS, TWITTER
THE TRUTH ABOUT COPS–AND DRUGS
In Bureaucracy, History, Law, Law Enforcement, Social commentary on May 7, 2014 at 12:02 amIt’s a movie that appeared 32 years ago–making it, for those born in 2000, an oldie. And it wasn’t a blockbuster, being yanked out of theaters almost as soon as it arrived.
Yet “Prince of the City” (1981) remains that rarity–a movie about big-city police that
It’s based on the real-life case of NYPD Detective Robert Leuci (“Danny Ciello” in the film).
Robert Leuci
A member of the elite Special Investigating Unit (SIU) Ciello (played by Treat Williams) volunteers to work undercover against rampant corruption among narcotics agents, attorneys and bail bondsmen.
His motive appears simple: To redeem himself and the NYPD from the corruption he sees everywhere: “These people we take from own us.”
His only condition: “I will never betray cops who’ve been my partners.”
Assistant US Attorney Rick Cappalino assures Ciello: “We’ll never make you do something you can’t live with.”
As the almost three-hour movie unfolds, Ciello finds–to his growing dismay–that there are a great many things he will have to learn to live with.
Although he doesn’t have a hand in it, he’s appalled to learn that Gino Moscone, a former buddy, is going to be arrested for taking bribes from drug dealers.
Confronted by a high-ranking agent for the Drug Enforcement Agency, Moscone refuses to “rat out” his buddies.
Instead, he puts his service revolver to his head and blows out his brains.
Ciello is devastated, but the investigation–and film–must go on.
Along the way, he’s suspected by a corrupt cop and bail bondsman of being a “rat” and threatened with death. He’s about to be wasted in a back alley when his cousin–a Mafia member–suddenly intervenes.
The Mafioso tells Ciello’s would-be killers: “You’d better be sure he’s a rat, because people like him.”
At which point, the grotesquely fat bail bondsman–who has been demanding Ciello’s execution–pats Danny on the arm and says, “No hard feelings.”
It is director Sidney Lumet’s way of graphically saying: “Sometimes the bad guys can be good guys–and the good guys can be bad guys.”
Lumet makes it clear that police don’t always operate with the Godlike perfection of cops in TV and films. It’s precisely because his Federal backup agents lost him that Ciello almost became a casualty.
In the end, Ciello becomes a victim of the prosecutorial forces he has unleashed. Although he’s vowed to never testify against his former partners, Ciello finds this a promise he can’t keep.
Too many of the cops he’s responsible for indicting have implicated him of similar–if not worse–behavior.
He’s even suspected of being involved in the theft of 450 pounds of heroin (“the French Connection”) from the police property room.
A sympathetic prosecutor–Mario Vincente in the movie, Rudolph Giuliani in real-life–convinces Ciello that he must finally reveal everything he knows.
Ciello’s had originally claimed to have done “three things” as a corrupt narcotics agent. By the time his true confessions are over, he’s admitted to scores of felonies.
Ciello then tries to convince his longtime SIU partners to do the same.
One of them commits suicide. Another tells Ciello to screw himself: “I’m not going to shoot myself and I’m not going to rat out my friends.”
To his surprise, Ciello finds himself admiring his corrupt former partner for being willing to stand up to the Federal case-agents and prosecutors demanding his head.
The movie ends with a double dose of irony.
First: Armed with Ciello’s confessions, an attorney whom Ciello had successfully testified against appeals his conviction. But the judge rules these to be “collateral,” apart from the main evidence in the case, and affirms the conviction.
Second: Ciello is himself placed on trial–of a sort. A large group of assistant U.S. attorneys gathers to debate whether their prize “canary” should be indicted.
If he is, his confessions will ensure his conviction.
Some prosecutors argue forcefully that Ciello is a corrupt law enforcement officer who has admitted to more than 40 cases of perjury–among other crimes. How can the government use him to convict others and not address the criminality in his own past?
Other prosecutors argue that Ciello voluntarily risked his life–physically and professionally–to expose rampant police corruption. He deserves a better deal than to be cast aside by those who have made so many cases through his testimony.
Eventually, the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York makes his decision: “The government declines to prosecute Detective Daniel Ciello.”
It is Lumet’s way of showing that the decision to prosecute is not always an easy or objective one.
The movie ends with Ciello now teaching surveillance classes at the NYPD Academy. A student asks: “Are you the Detective Ciello?”
“I’m Detective Ciello.”
“I don’t think I have anything to learn from you.”
Is Danny Ciello–again, Robert Leuci in real-life–a hero, a villain, or some combination of the two? It is with this ambiguity that the film ends–an ambiguity that each viewer must resolve for himself.
Share this: