Show of force emboldens sides on immigration

COACHELLA, Calif. -- It was an extraordinary show of strength that took even supporters by surprise. Thousands from this farm-dotted, predominantly Latino city joined a massive protest against a proposed crackdown on undocumented immigrants over the last two weeks.

''It's an awakening of the sleeping brown giant," said Victor Manuel Perez, a member of the Coachella school board.

But the newfound assertiveness of Latinos, some of them undocumented immigrants, has also fortified the ranks on the other side in the fractious debate over immigration. In the Coachella Valley, which includes affluent cities such as Rancho Mirage and Palm Springs, those who favor stricter immigration laws see the demonstrations as more vivid proof that Latino immigrants refuse to play by the rules like previous generations did.

For them, the show of force has rendered the immigrants who live among them even more foreign, and even less willing to integrate into American society.

''Only in America would illegal immigrants be able to take to the streets the way they are. I frankly am appalled, at their thinking that as illegals they have rights," said Cindy Finerty, vice president of Rancho Mirage Republican Women Federated. ''They do not, because they have not earned legal citizenship."

Suddenly, the country is consumed with the question of what to do with its 11 million undocumented immigrants. A House-backed proposal calls for erecting a 700-mile wall along the southern border, criminalizing undocumented immigrants and those who assist them, and giving local police authority to enforce immigration laws. The Senate is debating a bill that would give the undocumented temporary work permits and paths to legalization, along with boosting enforcement. If that legislation passes, the Senate and the House would have to hammer out a compromise between their vastly different approaches.

The tensions and ambivalence of that debate, and the conflicting notions of national identity at its heart, are as much a part of this place as the San Jacinto and Little San Bernardino Mountains that surround it.

At one end of the valley are the retirement communities and country clubs of Palm Springs and Palm Desert. At the other end are the date farms and run-down trailers that house undocumented workers who come here after crossing the Mexican border, joining thousands of others from their home country.

The entire region relies on undocumented immigrants to sweep floors, mow golf courses, and pull grapes off vines. The immigrants rely on the rich residents and tourists for jobs. At least 10 percent of the area's farm workers are undocumented, according to the Southern California United Farm Workers union, and that estimate seems low: a Pew Hispanic Center report in March found that nationwide, undocumented immigrants hold at least 1 in 4 agricultural jobs.

''If they blew the whistle and all the Mexicans had to leave, this place would come to a screeching halt," said David Katz, owner of the Coda Gallery in Palm Desert.

The national debate has sent fear and anger rushing through Latino communities in the valley. At the Food4Less supermarket and on the field at Bagdouma Park, the talk is of the proposed crackdown. Sandra Campos, a second-grade teacher at the Cesar Chavez elementary school, sees the unease in her classroom.

''Parents are definitely worried," she said. ''The children are asking questions: 'Why are they being mean? Why are they doing this to Mexicans?' They don't distinguish between legal and illegal."

The Rev. Bruce Cecil, pastor at Our Lady of Soledad Catholic church in Coachella, has been ministering to the immigrants for years. He offers liturgies in the barrios because undocumented immigrants who live there are too afraid to drive to his mission-style church, because they may be pulled over by police and discovered. Cecil and other priests worry that the House legislation would criminalize his ministry. He has often given food and rides to immigrants who may be undocumented, he said.

Recently, Cardinal Roger Mahony of Los Angeles and Bishop Gerald R. Barnes of San Bernardino have said the proposed regulations contradict Christian values. Barnes, whose diocese includes the Coachella Valley, said he has received far more ''nasty letters" over his immigration stance than over the clergy sexual abuse scandal.

''Some say the only reason we are in favor of these people is that they have a lot of children, and it gives more kids for the priests to molest," he said. ''Then they sign it, 'respectfully.' "

The church's public stand has emboldened heavily Catholic Latinos. The last time Latinos mobilized in large numbers in California was a decade ago, over Proposition 187, the ballot question that would have denied social services to undocumented immigrants. Voters overwhelmingly approved the measure, but it was overturned by the courts.

The recent rallies dwarf those. A week ago, thousands from Coachella Valley joined a half million protesters in downtown Los Angeles. Sending more people into the streets now, organizers say, is the sweeping nature of the House bill, which would punish not only undocumented immigrants, but those who help them.

People ''say 'I'm going to fight this, because it's inhumane; this should not be happening in 2006,' " said Joe Mota , regional director of the Southern California United Farm Workers.

Mota urged undocumented immigrants to join the protest, contending that change would not come if they didn't speak out. Most stayed in their trailers, but hundreds showed up, he said. Spanish-language radio stations got out the word, with disc jockeys relentlessly exhorting listeners to make themselves heard.

The city council here, and in a handful of other California cities, passed resolutions proclaiming themselves havens for immigrants.

Two days after the huge Los Angeles march, Washington appeared to take notice: the Senate Judiciary Committee approved its proposal to provide millions of undocumented workers with paths to green cards.

But so did immigration critics. For Coachella Valley residents who favor strict immigration controls, the images of Latinos and their supporters, waving Mexican, Salvadoran, and other flags in addition to American ones, reinforced their view that this generation of immigrants is not, and has no interest in becoming, part of American society.

''Hispanics are shooting themselves in the foot by going out there and waving Mexican flags," said William R. Snaer, a dentist who spends winters at the Palm Valley Country Club in Palm Desert. ''People don't like the idea of people that don't want to live in Mexico and insist on living here marching down the street in huge numbers yelling 'Viva Mexico.' "

''It does rub me the wrong way," added Snaer, who nonetheless believes conservatives who want to send undocumented immigrants back to their home countries are ''completely nuts."

In interviews about their immigrant neighbors, Coachella Valley residents often mention concerns about the costs of free healthcare or education for them. But more profoundly, they express an unease that the rules seem to have changed. ''Your relatives and my relatives all came to the United States and had to go through the right channels to become citizens," said Phill Babcock, a farming consultant and Palm Desert resident who has employed undocumented workers to pick strawberries. ''It's pretty hard now to shut the gate. But those who don't want to go through the jumps, send them home."

The church and activists counter that going through the jumps -- getting visas and work permits -- is almost impossible for unskilled Mexicans today.

Some valley residents also lament what they say is the transformation of their desert into a place they no longer recognize. Immigrants were once better at assimilating, those people said repeatedly. The mostly Mexican Latinos who flock to the valley seem to have no interest in that, they said. ''I joke that you need a visa to go to Wal-Mart now," Finerty said. ''This is the United States, and in the United States, you speak English."

The demonstrations have only strengthened the resolve of immigration critics like Finerty. Immigrants, having once blended in, or become invisible, in some valley towns, are suddenly holding signs on roadsides, making demands. And those demands, some predict, will trigger a powerful backlash.

''The sight of many flags that were not American, I think angered many people," said Caroline Espinosa, spokeswoman for NumbersUSA, which advocates for stricter immigration controls. ''I talked to a lot of people who after seeing that said, 'If this is the way immigrants are going to behave in our country, then I'm with you.' The images were very powerful."

Yvonne Abraham can be reached at abraham@globe.com.