Pakistanis in U.S. Among the Most Affected by INS Registration Edict

By Homayra Ziad

At 6 a.m. on Dec. 19 of last year, Sara Khan (not her real name), was awoken by a banging on her door. Three agents from the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) entered. Without explanation, they searched her house and person, and questioned her aggressively. The agents told Sara that she had failed to register under the NSEERS program. Shocked, she replied that, to the best of her knowledge, the new regulations applied only to males. Despite her appeal, Sara, a dual citizen of Pakistan and England holding a valid H1-B work visa, was escorted to the local INS head office. There she was handcuffed to a chair, interrogated several times, photographed and fingerprinted. The INS agents informed her that she had been entered into the Special Registration database and must follow its procedures from now on. Five hours into the ordeal, she was released without an apology.

Guilty until proven innocent appears to be the premise behind the INS’s Special Registration policy, effective since September 2002. Publicized as a measure to improve national security, the NSEERS program currently applies to nationals from 24 predominantly Muslim nations, and North Korea. Under this regulation, adult males from these countries are required to register with the INS upon arriving in the U.S.—although, as in Sara’s case, this law can be extended arbitrarily to include women. It applies to students, tourists, businessmen, and H1-B workers. In addition to registering at their port of arrival, these visitors also must report to an INS office between 30 to 40 days after entry.

The Pakistani community in the United States is the largest group affected by this program, and the new laws have had a strong impact on its members. Pakistan’s very inclusion on the list has been troubling to many, given the country’s unstinting efforts on behalf of the U.S. war on terrorism. “We take more losses [in the war] than everyone put together,” said Dr. Asad Hayauddin, press attaché at the Pakistan Embassy in Washington, “The [religious] hard-liners in Pakistan say, you’re cooperating and getting kicked in the teeth. It’s embarrassing for the government.”

Furthermore, he pointed out, Pakistanis are one of the most law-abiding ethnic communities in the United States. “The community is stellar in terms of living by the law,” noted Hayauddin, “There are no drug gangs, no street fights. The few crimes committed are petty and victimless, like credit card fraud.”

Despite the peaceful nature of the community, some members have not fully complied with immigration procedures. In fact, a significant number of the nearly 500,000 Pakistanis living in the U.S. are here without adequate paperwork—relics of the days of lax INS supervision. Of the nearly 1,200 individuals incarcerated in the post-9/11 anti-terrorist campaign, more than 250 were Pakistanis. “The majority were visa overstays,” said Imran Ali, the embassy’s second secretary, who deals with consular and immigration issues. “No one was linked to terrorism.”

The very idea of registration, with its inconsistencies and haphazard implementation, infuriates many.

Nevertheless, close to one thousand Pakistanis have been deported since 9/11. Four hundred of these fall into the group described by Ali. The rest come under the INS category of “absconders.” In the early 1990s, many individuals had sought political and religious asylum in the U.S., and a number of those whose petitions were rejected chose to stay on. Since June 2002, however, in the name of national security, an INS Absconders Apprehension Initiative has been cracking down on these violators.

Special Registration is merely the next step. Like the post-9/11 detentions, however, it has served only to terrorize blameless immigrants and nab petty visa violators, rather than root out terrorist cells. The very idea of registration, along with its inconsistencies and haphazard implementation, infuriates many. “We totally empathize and relate to U.S. national security concerns,” emphasized Hayauddin. “Security, however, should not be the sole criterion.”

Especially frustrating for the embassy is the deportation or detainment of persons whose case falls under Section 245(i) of the Legal Immigration and Family Equity Act (LIFE) of 2000. This law permitted out-of-status individuals to remain in the U.S. and apply for Permanent Residency by paying a $1,000 fee. In real terms, this represented an amnesty, in that their illegal status would not be held against them in their application for residency.

In Special Registration cases, however, the Justice Department (which oversees the INS) has decided that the amnesty only applies if the residency case already has passed through the Labor Department and been filed at the INS. According to Ali, the Labor Department has been slow in processing Pakistani residency applications. Now, many of these individuals are subject to deportation when they register. “They were granted amnesty by the government, which should be honored,” said Hayauddin. “Why are they being convicted now?”

A Public Relations Fiasco

In fact, he pointed out, deporting law-abiding residents who registered voluntarily harms U.S. security by generating resentment and ill-will. The majority of Pakistanis in this country are blue-collar workers, he noted, and many use their earnings to support their families in Pakistan. “It’s an inverted funnel,” he said. “You’re affecting 10 people by [detaining or deporting] one.” The unintended consequence is a public relations fiasco for the U.S.—which Hayauddin described as “losing the battle of hearts and minds.”

Houston criminal and immigration lawyer Altaf Adam also considers the current application of immigration law draconian. Since registration began, he said, he has witnessed many Pakistanis put into deportation proceedings for technicalities and minor infractions. A student in his final year was placed in custody without bail—“like a terrorist,” Adam said—because he worked for two semesters without authorization. Some have been detained for not fulfilling their course-load, or for dropping classes. More disturbing for Adam, however, is the selective application of these laws. “The law itself is anti-immigrant,” he noted, “but [beyond that] why does registration only target Muslims and legal immigrants? The U.S. has a right to monitor people in its country, but this is a very disingenuous way of doing so.”

Immigration lawyer Parastou Hassouri, coordinator of the ACLU-NJ’s Immigrant Rights Project, also criticized the program “from a practitioner’s perspective.” According to Hassouri, the policy is objectionable on many levels. First, she noted, its focus on Muslim countries forces it to rely on ethnic and racial profiling, which alienates and stigmatizes the Muslim community in this country. “If the administration truly wants to find terrorist cells,” she said, “it would want the trust and cooperation of this community.”

Furthermore, Hassouri pointed out, no terrorist is likely to register voluntarily, calling into question the procedure’s intended national security benefits. “More seriously,” she added, “this administration is institutionalizing xenophobia. All immigrants seem suspect.”

Another worrisome aspect is the amount and type of information requested from individuals, from bank and credit card statements to their religious observances and political beliefs. Though the registrants sign a form that declares they are providing this information voluntarily, said Hassouri, “in practice they wouldn’t feel comfortable refusing to answer questions. But, because they’re not Green Card holders, they have less constitutional protection against self-incrimination.”

Hassouri finds even more troubling the secrecy that often surrounds the trial and deportation process. Many of those apprehended do not appear before immigration judges, or have access to counsel. Groups of people are transported to deportation centers in the middle of the night, when there’s no hope of reaching a lawyer. “There are no centralized guidelines as to how this program is implemented,” she pointed out. “The INS keeps saying it’s on a case-by-case basis.”

This is partly due, Hassouri believes, to the lack of internal communication within the INS, already stretched to the limit with its caseload.

The Pakistani Embassy’s Hayauddin understands that the INS is overworked. That’s why he proposes looking for more efficient and consistent strategies, such as a greater wait-time for visas. “Make it one year,” he suggested, “so that people know what they’re getting into. Now people are missing deadlines, students are missing semesters.” Another approach is what the press attaché described as “making the filter strong enough at the point of entry. Re-filtering sends a negative signal. People think, ‘What have I done wrong?’”

Hayauddin’s observation is on the mark. Most complaints about registration center on a general perception of being targeted and dehumanized. Port of Entry registration is particularly harsh. “You have to treat [the INS officers] like your dad,” said Yale University freshman Samar Abbas. “If you show any attitude, they can mess with you.”

Abbas waited six and a half hours at JFK Airport, in the same room as narcotics smugglers bound in chains. “We were in the same category,” he said. “I felt like I’d committed a crime by coming from the wrong country.”

Another student from a top university was systematically harassed at Washington, DC’s Dulles Airport. He was asked such questions as, “Why don’t you Muslims ever know where your parents are born?” and “Why can’t you foreigners do two things at the same time?”

The absolute, and arbitrary, power of Port of Entry officials was made clear in yet another recent case. Imran Ali, a Pakistani doctor with a five-year multiple entry visa was sent home because, in the past four years, he had availed himself during each visit of the maximum number of days allowed him. The fact that he had stayed longer in the U.S. on his visa than in Pakistan was deemed suspicious, and, although completely legal, he was deported. Ali described the State Department response to an embassy complaint as “lukewarm.”

Inefficiency Horror Stories

Other registration horror stories have more to do with inefficiency than outright abuse of power. There are numerous complaints of long lines in the bitter cold and 18-hour process times for complicated cases. In California, however, the INS has learned a lesson from its disastrous detention of Iranians on Dec. 16. Pakistani Embassy Political Counsellor Farukh Amil, recently arrived from monitoring theregistration process in San Francisco, called it “marvellous…We must give the INS kudos, and a chance to show that L.A. was an aberration.”

Amil did not sense any systemic racial profiling, unseemly behavior, or invasive questioning at the San Francisco processing. Similarly, Irfan Malik, an engineer from San Jose, found registration to be “a very friendly surprise.” It took less than two hours, he said, and the officers were polite and understanding, even when he couldn’t provide them with some information. Malik partly attributed this to the type of Pakistani the San Jose office was familiar with—educated professionals with straightforward cases.

For those who are detained, however, registration is far from pleasant. Detention cells vary from county to county, and being held in some can be a nasty experience. The detention center in Beaumont, Texas, which takes on Houston overflows, is “horrible,” according to attorney Altaf Adam, “Registrants are detained with killers. If a lawyer has to see a client for 20 minutes, he has to invest seven hours of his day, which becomes prohibitively expensive for the client.”

Many detainees are treated poorly. ACLU coordinator Hassouri found that many centers did not provide halal or even non-pork food, and detainees weren’t allowed to pray together on Fridays. Many Pakistanis, it seems, prefer voluntary deportation over detention. Embassy official Ali often receives calls from detained individuals asking to be sent back home. He estimates that close to 10,000 Pakistanis have voluntarily left the U.S. rather than run the risk of detention.

A growing number of Pakistani-American groups, on a national and local level, are trying to simplify the process of registration. Eleven organizations, working nationwide under the umbrella of the Pakistan American National Alliance, have established a Legal Defense Fund for Pakistani detainees and their families. Their unified action plan combines activism on all fronts, including financial support, information awareness, legal outreach, public relations, and lobbying.

Another group of 27 organizations, the Federation of Associations of Pakistani Americans (FAPA), has a similar mandate in the New York Tri-State area, home to one of the largest concentration of Pakistanis in the country. “Our hotline receives 100 to 250 calls a day, nationally,” said Suhail Muzaffar, current head of FAPA. Volunteers advise on all aspects of registration, from reminding people to dress warmly to the importance of photocopying documents. FAPA keeps track of registrants by encouraging them to sign up with the organization before registration, in case they are detained. Muzaffar also has responded to complaints about the lack of resources in some cities, such as Atlanta, by encouraging community leaders to start local organizations.

Recently, FAPA has been active on the legal front as well. In January, Muzaffar heard that several registration interviews of Pakistanis in Maryland centered on issues of religious practice, such as regularity of prayer and mosque attendance. “This was reaching too deeply into man’s faith,” in his opinion, and had no place in a government interview. FAPA met with ACLU officials, who wished to document the incidents. Unfortunately, the increasingly common fear of being targeted prevented the individuals from making their case public, but it is hoped that others will come forward with their own stories.

In addition to Pakistani-American and civil rights groups, many Asian organizations also have joined in condemning Special Registration, realizing that these laws may one day affect them as well. In New Jersey, Hassouri hopes to bring all the community leaders together to form an immigration coalition. It is her strong belief that “if anything good has possibly come out of registration, it has been greater cooperation among and between communities.”

Homayra Ziad is a Ph.D. student in Islamic Studies at Yale University.