In a striking moment during a recent presidential debate, Vice President Kamala Harris found herself chuckling at former President Donald Trump’s bizarre claims about Haitian immigrants supposedly snatching and consuming local pets in Springfield, Ohio. While her reaction captured the absurdity of Trump’s rhetoric, it also underscored a more troubling reality: the normalization of derogatory narratives surrounding immigrants in American political discourse.
The question arises: how did we arrive at a point where such outrageous fabrications can gain traction in the public sphere? This phenomenon is not merely a product of the far-right’s anti-immigration agenda; it reflects a broader failure across the political spectrum to challenge harmful stereotypes and narratives. The right has long exploited fears of the “Other” to galvanize a predominantly white voter base, but the left has often been complicit, either by failing to counter these narratives or by adopting language that inadvertently reinforces them.
One of the most significant shifts in this discourse is the term “migrant.” Once a relatively neutral descriptor, it has morphed into a term laden with negative connotations. Recent reports indicate that nearly 7.3 million individuals have crossed the U.S.-Mexico border under President Biden’s administration, a statistic that has been weaponized by conservative media to stoke fear. Yet, many of these individuals are fleeing violence, poverty, and oppression—conditions that should elicit empathy rather than derision. On the left, the term “migrant” is similarly employed, often without nuance, to describe those seeking refuge in urban centers, further stripping them of their humanity.
Historically, the term “migrant” was rarely applied to people; it primarily referred to animals that moved instinctively between habitats. By the early 20th century, it began to describe Mexican laborers who crossed the border for seasonal agricultural work, reinforcing the notion that they were temporary visitors rather than potential long-term residents. Today, however, the label has expanded to encompass anyone leaving a troubled country, implying a lack of permanence and a right to settle.
This linguistic evolution has not gone unnoticed. Scholars and activists have raised concerns about the dehumanizing implications of the term “migrant.” For instance, Alexander Betts, an expert in international affairs, has proposed the term “survival migration” to better capture the plight of those compelled to flee their homes. The International Organization for Migration has introduced the phrase “vulnerable migrants” to emphasize the need for protection and support. Despite these efforts, the one-word label persists, often used in a manner that distances and dehumanizes.
The impact of language on public perception cannot be overstated. Victor Klemperer, a philologist who survived the Nazi regime, documented how subtle shifts in language can serve to demonize entire groups. He referred to this phenomenon as “the language of hysteria,” a tool that can manipulate thought and perception. Today, the term “migrant” is part of a broader lexicon that includes phrases like “invasion,” “waves,” and “floods,” all of which contribute to a narrative that portrays immigrants as threats rather than individuals with stories and aspirations.
The political landscape has further complicated this issue. Both Republican and Democratic administrations have increasingly adopted militaristic rhetoric around immigration. The aftermath of 9/11 solidified the concept of “border security,” which has been used to justify the expansion of surveillance technologies and the militarization of the border. This has led to a tragic increase in the number of immigrants who have died while attempting to cross into the U.S., as they navigate ever more dangerous routes to evade detection.
In the current political climate, the Republican Party has aggressively capitalized on anti-immigrant sentiment, flooding the airwaves with ads that frame immigration as a crisis. In stark contrast, Democrats have struggled to articulate a coherent and humane immigration policy, often resorting to the same fear-based language. For example, Democratic candidates in swing districts have begun to tout their own tough-on-immigration credentials, echoing Republican talking points rather than advocating for a more compassionate approach.
Even figures like Kamala Harris, who should ideally champion immigrant rights given her own family history, have fallen into the trap of using fear-laden language. Her campaign rhetoric emphasizes border security and drug trafficking without acknowledging the contributions immigrants make to society or the systemic issues that drive migration. This approach not only alienates potential supporters but also undermines the very values that the Democratic Party claims to uphold.
Polling data reveals a disconnect between the party’s leadership and its base. A recent survey indicated that over 80% of Democrats support legalizing the status of undocumented immigrants, and a significant majority favor more inclusive immigration policies. This suggests that the party’s current rhetoric may be out of step with the values of its constituents, particularly younger voters who are increasingly pro-immigrant.
In conclusion, the language we use to discuss immigration matters profoundly. The shift from terms like “immigrant” to “migrant” reflects a
