Bond Help Heartens Immigrants

Workplace Raids' Frequency Propels Fundraising Effort

Boston financier Robert Hildreth has been contributing to immigrant service groups around his home state for nearly two decades. So when federal immigration agents raided a garment factory in New Bedford, Mass., last year and began transferring the workers to Texas detention centers thousands of miles from the community organizations trying to help them, Hildreth quickly stepped in with what he thought was a modest offer:

"I just told [their lawyers], 'You know, if you ever need bond money for someone, let me know,' " the 57-year-old multimillionaire recalled during an interview. "I was just following my nose on this. . . . I had no idea of the scale of what I was getting into."

Within a matter of weeks, Hildreth had posted bond for 40 detainees, contributing $116,800 of his own money and launching the pilot version of a national bond assistance program immigrant advocates hope will prove the linchpin of an emerging strategy to counter the recent increase in government workplace raids, including the arrest of nearly 600 workers at a manufacturing plant in Laurel, Miss., on Aug. 25.

Already, the National Immigrant Bond Fund has attracted more than $300,000 in contributions and helped bail out nearly 90 immigrants detained in six worksite raids, including 10 of the 46 workers detained during a raid on a painting company in Annapolis in June.

Days before the Mississippi raid, at the first sign that immigration agents appeared to be massing there, representatives of the fund were on the phone to immigrant advocates in the state. The fund stands ready with at least $150,000 for bond hearings and is trying to raise more.

"This is exactly what we hoped the fund would do," said Paromita Shah, associate director of the National Immigration Project of the National Lawyers Guild and a member of the bond fund's steering committee. "I don't see this as bringing about the end of these raids, but I'm optimistic that the fund is going to make a difference for a lot of people."

Although workplace arrests bring in only a fraction of the nation's estimated 8 million illegal immigrant workers, they have risen sharply in recent months, growing from 510 in 2002 to nearly 5,000 a year.

Unlike defendants in the criminal justice system, foreigners facing deportation in immigration court do not have a right to a government-provided attorney if they cannot pay for their own. And when they are moved to remote holding facilities far from their families, it is more difficult for them to find attorneys, advocates contend. Without access to legal advice, immigrants often have a tough time determining if they have a viable defense against deportation, let alone collecting the evidence needed to present their case. So many simply agree to deportation.

The bond fund aims to change that pattern by offering to pay up to half of an immigrant's bond, increasing the number who can afford bail while insuring the immigrant has a financial incentive to show up in court. Those awaiting a deportation hearing are generally eligible for release on bond if they have no criminal convictions, were not previously ordered deported and can convince a homeland security official or an immigration judge that they pose no danger to national security or the community and are not a flight risk, which they often demonstrate by providing evidence of long-standing community ties through their children, spouses and other relatives.

Raising enough cash to keep up with the spike in workplace raids could be challenging, advocates say.

"The decision to grant bond and the amount of the bond that is set seems to follow a wildly arbitrary process that totally differs from one judge to another," said Ali Noorani, executive director of the National Immigration Forum and another member of the bond fund committee. "I've seen everything from $2,000 to $24,000 bonds for essentially the same circumstances."

Three Guatemalan brothers who were arrested in June's raid on the Annapolis painting company, for instance, received substantially different bond amounts even though they shared the same family ties and living arrangements. Sergio Gonzalez, 32, the first to go before an immigration judge, was granted a $6,500 bond. When his brothers Hugo Gonzalez, 27, and Juan Carlos Gonzalez, 41, went before a different judge about a week later, their bonds were set at $3,500 each.