Caught in the Net

The underground railroad led north during the slavery era. Those who were led out of bondage traveled at night, mostly by foot or by wagon, and always in danger. Passengers, conductors, and stationmasters formed a vast network of ordinary people engaged in extraordinary endeavors and united in their moral revulsion at the "peculiar institution."

Many were caught and punished. Yet thousands were delivered from captivity because many people were willing to risk whatever was necessary to provide sanctuary.

Today, the church is showing the same moral courage in the sanctuary movement for Central American refugees. Thousands are again finding a haven—this time from the spiraling cycle of violence in their homelands. The new "railroad" leads to almost 150 churches that have declared themselves sanctuaries, and even to Keene, New Hampshire, the first town in the country to designate itself a public sanctuary.

For the first time, workers on today's railroad are facing legal sanctions for their activity. While deportations continue for Salvadorans, Guatemalans, and others, recent indictments and trials in the Southwest have targeted the sanctuary railroad.

The point of embarkation on today's railroad lies in the war zones of Central America. As the toll from death squads and counterinsurgency mounts, refugee movement within Central America increases. Salvadorans in Honduran camps are subject to sporadic attacks both from Honduran troops and Salvadoran soldiers training at U.S. bases within Honduras. Current U.S. policy is pressuring Honduras to relocate refugee camps away from the El Salvador-Honduras border, in order to create a militarized "free-fire" zone.

Mexico, suffering under severe economic strain, is officially unwilling to provide a haven for refugees. Refugees, who must travel 1,500 miles or more through Mexico, are exploited by officials and those who know their weaknesses. For those refugees without a ticket on the church railroad, the expensive alternative is travel with a "coyote" whose sole motive is profit. Coyotes charge whatever the market will bear for human cargo. It can cost thousands in U.S. dollars for a family. Coyotes give no guarantees; they have abandoned refugee families in the deserts and to authorities.

After weeks, months, or years of anxiety, refugees may near the border. From Texas to California, they will find a new electronic battleground. The United States is utilizing Vietnam-era technology in the form of heat sensors, night-vision, and reconnaissance flights. Nevertheless, the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) patrol is unable to seal the border, so a cordon has now been drawn within the United States, at bus stations, airports and on highways leading north.

Stacey Merkt was caught in the internal INS net and arrested on February 17 near McAllen, Texas, for transporting Mauricio Valle, Brenda Sanchez-Galan, and Brenda's two-year-old daughter, Bessie. On March 7 the border patrol picked up Philip Conger on a highway outside Nogales, Arizona, with four Salvadorans. On April 13 federal marshals arrested Jack Elder for transporting three Salvadoran refugees to a bus station.

Stacey Merkt and Jack Elder work at a halfway house named for slain Salvadoran Archbishop Oscar Romero. Casa Romero, in San Benito, Texas, is a small, white adobe house that has helped hundreds of refugees continue on the rail- | road. It is supported in part by the Roman Catholic diocese of Brownsville. Merkt was sentenced in June to two years' probation and a 90-day suspended sentence. Elder, facing the same court as Merkt, is charged with three counts of transporting illegal aliens, punishable by up to 15 years in federal prison.

Philip Conger is director of the Tucson, Arizona Ecumenical Council's Task Force on Central America. He has been working with refugees for four years. Due to a lack of credible evidence presented by the border patrol, the charges against Conger were dropped in late July.

The INS is clearly watching the church. INS district director Richard Casillas of San Antonio, Texas, issued a statement saying, "I burn, seethe, and boil that [the church] has placed its imprimatur on a crusade to destroy my country, advocating a breakdown of our laws." Casillas referred to Brownsville Roman Catholic Bishop John Fitzpatrick's support of Casa Romero.

Faith continues to nourish the railroad and the movement. In May the Tucson Ecumenical Council stated, "No matter how many of us are arrested, this ministry will continue. As proclaimed by the Torah and the Gospel, it is precisely such service uniting us with the poor and persecuted that gathers us together."

Sojourners presents in this issue first-hand testimony from Jack Elder, Stacey Merkt, and Mauricio Valle and Brenda Sanchez-Galan. Their witness to faith, and that of hundreds of others, will continue to fuel the engines of the underground railroad, no matter what obstacles are placed in the path.

Steve Hall-Williams was Sojourners assistant news editor when this article appeared.