Playing Politics with Immigration

By Evan Thomas

With an eye to 1984, O'Neill scotches a compromise bill

The real news came almost as an afterthought. House Speaker Tip O'Neill was winding down a routine press conference last week when he offhandedly announced that he would block a sweeping reform of the immigration laws from even reaching a vote. "The His-panics," O'Neill declared, "have said that it's the worst thing that has ever confronted them."

Thus, without even consulting other Democratic leaders in the House, O'Neill derailed a compromise bill that was designed to stem the flow of illegal immigrants, while giving amnesty to most of those already here. Co-sponsored by Republican Senator Alan Simpson of Wyoming and Democratic Congressman Romano Mazzoli of Kentucky, the legislation was the product of seven years of work by a national commission, a presidential task force and half a dozen congressional committees. The need for reform was clear enough: more than a million-illegals pour over U.S. borders every year.

But for the intensely partisan Speaker, the immigration bill had a sharp political downside. Hispanic leaders had warned him that its passage would cost the Democrats Hispanic votes in 1984. The Speaker was determined to keep this important bloc happy. Democrats "truly represent the Hispanics of America," he said. "These are the people my party is trying to help."

At the same time, O'Neill tried to blame the Administration for undermining the bill. The White House wanted the Democratic-controlled House to pass it, he asserted, so the President could veto it. That way, Reagan would come across as a hero to Hispanic Americans, and the Democrats as chumps. Was the man in the Oval Office capable of such a cynical trick? "He's the most political man I've seen there," snapped O'Neill.

The notion of a G.O.P. double-S:-- cross was first planted in O'Neill's ear by California Congressman Edward Roybal, one of the eleven-member Hispanic caucus. Roybal admits that he first heard it as dinner gossip, but as evidence, he produced a letter from Attorney General William French Smith to the House Judiciary Committee expressing Administration reservations concerning the House version of the bill. Rumors supposedly emanating from the White House also hinted of a presidential veto.

The Administration stoutly denied it. "I'm not trying to set Tip up," Reagan protested to Republican congressional leaders. "We want the immigration bill." Vice President Bush personally delivered the same message to the Speaker. The letter from Smith was described as nothing more than a routine working paper, in effect a bargaining stance for haggling over the bill's particulars. Said the Attorney General: "This in no way amounts to a veto threat." As for the rumors from the White House, they came from a lowly and uninformed aide in the office of Faith Whittlesey, assistant to the President for public liaison.

O'Neill's decision startled his own colleagues among the House leadership, who faulted him for failing to understand the substance of the bill and for buying the veto rumor without consulting them. Asked for an explanation, one leader simply rolled his eyes heavenward. Said House Judiciary Committee Chairman Peter Rodino, an old ally of the Speaker's: "The Attorney General always stated that they'd go along with the Senate bill. I've always read into what they said that a compromise would be acceptable." Indeed, Rodino had already started to negotiate a deal with Senate Sponsor Simpson.

O'Neill dismissed the merits of the immigration bill with a simple political question: "Is there any real constituency for it?" There were enough supporters of the bill, including such diverse leaders as the president of the AFL-CIO and the chairman of Exxon, to win Senate passage twice, the last time by the overwhelming vote of 76 to 18. Ironically, a recent poll shows that even Hispanics favor tighter immigration laws, contrary to the position of their leaders. But support of organized business and labor for the bill has been lukewarm at best. The opposition of various special interests, on the other hand, remains hot.

The most important provision of the legislation is also the most controversial. Since it is the hope of a job that draws most aliens across the border, sponsors of the bill sought to diminish that lure by imposing civil and criminal penalties on employers who knowingly hire illegals.

This naturally displeased many farmers in the Southwest, who saw their pool of cheap labor drying up. Hispanic leaders were concerned that employers would fear the penalties so much that they would discriminate not only against illegal Hispanics, but against all Hispanics. The bill sought to distinguish between the two by requiring proof of citizenship--but civil libertarians immediately warned that a "national I.D. card" was a step toward Big Brother. O'Neill echoed these fears with grossly overblown rhetoric. Said he: "Hitler did this to the Jews. He made them wear dog tags."

To be sure, the Administration has qualms about the bill. The House version would cost $11.5 billion over five years, $8 billion more than the Senate bill and too much for the budget cutters at the White House. While the Senate would declare amnesty for illegals who arrived before 1980, the House sponsors wanted to move the cutoff date up to 1982, thereby making millions more immigrants eligible for Government programs.

Despite reservations, however, Administration officials were trying hard at week's end to salvage the bill. The immigration problem is getting steadily worse: in the year ending Sept. 30, border guards seized 2 million illegal aliens, a 40% -- increase over the previous year. "There is a question about whether the bill is good politics," says a Reagan aide, "but there is no question that it is damn good policy."

Congressional leaders in both parties and both houses are also trying to find a way to undo O'Neill's damage. Even the Speaker is said to be looking for a graceful way to back down. His aides have privately urged the White House to send O'Neill a letter promising not to veto the bill. The hope on all sides is to get the bill up for a vote next year. But the most optimistic concede that the going will be rough: 1984, after all, is a political year.

--By Evan Thomas. Reported by Neil MacNeil and Ross H. Munro/Washington

With reporting by Neil MacNeil, Ross H. Munro This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.