COMPARE these two stories and there is very little difference in the crimes being committed by the governments involved. Both are using slave labor, both allow extremely harsh punishments for inmates who do not work hard enough or refuse to work. Both violate the human rights of the inmates. One is the prc, the other is the USA. Who do you think is the bigger hypocrite? Prisoners in the prc are enriching the Chinese prison complex and prisoners in America are enriching the for profit American prison cabal. From the ACLU and +NPR and the +The New York Times .....
Courtesy of Stuart Foster
Prisoner 1741 spent more than seven months inside a jail in
southern China, assembling Christmas lights for export to America. Work
days stretched up to 10 hours and conditions were tough, he says. One
boss used strands of Christmas lights to whip workers and drive
production.
Stories about forced labor have trickled out of China over the years, but what makes Prisoner 1741's so remarkable is that he isn't Chinese. He's American. In fact, he's a middle-aged, American sociology professor from South Carolina.
Stuart Foster's odyssey inside the Chinese penal system began in April of last year, when police in the city of Guangzhou took him to jail on theft charges. Foster had confessed to taking a large sum of money from an American colleague at a local university.
When Foster arrived at the White Cloud District Detention Center, he says, they gave him a cup and a toothbrush and put him in a cell about the size of a racquetball court where he would spend most of the next 280 days.
"In the cell, there was an average of 30 men,"says Foster, an amiable 49-year-old who speaks with a Southern drawl. "There were no chairs, there were no beds. We slept on the concrete floor, and most people didn't even have a sheet and certainly no pillows. It was so crowded that most inmates had to sleep on their side."
In the morning, Foster says, he and his mostly Chinese cellmates would spend an hour marching in place and then begin work putting together Christmas lights.
"They would bring in large, industrial plastic bags that had the components that would be assembled," Foster recalls. "Each prisoner would get their quota, and inmates would line the walls or they would sit in circles just on the floor, assembling lights to sockets."
The detention center didn't provide uniforms. So inmates worked in just their underwear during the hot summer months, he says. Foster was stunned that Chinese officials put him in a cell where he participated in and witnessed forced labor.
"I felt it was a major mistake," says Foster. Some guards became worried. "Are you going to tell people about this when you go back to America?" they asked him. "Yes! Yes, I will," he answered.
Foster says the Christmas lights he assembled are the type that look like icicles and hang from the rain gutters of many an American home during the holiday season. Over time, Foster befriended a guard, who said he helped sell the lights to unwitting U.S. companies at a famous trade fair in the city.
"I was on B block, because this was the only guard who spoke reasonable English. And he told me the reason he spoke reasonable English is because he was the individual who was involved with the selling at the Canton Trade Fair," Foster says. "He would refer to them as his 'American friends.' "
Forced Labor Common In Chinese Jails
NPR sent emails to and called the Canton Trade Fair, which refused to comment. The Guangzhou Public Security Bureau, on the other hand, confirmed that inmates do assemble Christmas lights — but suggested that the jail provided labor on contract and did not sell directly to companies.
Maya Wang, a researcher for the Asia division of Human Rights Watch, says forced labor is common in Chinese jails.
"In China, labor is actually written in the detention center regulations," she says. "So, we could safely say that millions of people are engaging in forced labor at any one time in just the detention centers alone."
Courtesy of Stuart Foster
Of course, inmates in many countries have jobs, including in the
U.S. But Wang says there are big differences. For one, inmates like
Foster hadn't even gone to trial during the time he was working.
"These people have not been convicted yet," Wang says. "That is a very abusive situation."
Prison labor is big business in China. A cursory Internet search yields at least two-dozen Chinese prisons offering inmate labor to make everything from crystal balls and fake eyelashes to dentures and pleather products. A prison in eastern China's Shandong province touts the advantages of inmates over ordinary workers: "Not only can you save labor costs, you can also finish the project early."
Foster says labor at his detention center was really cheap.
"Nobody got paid anything," he says. "If you didn't work, you didn't get food."
Or you got beaten.
Foster says a group of inmates ran the cell. They spurred workers with punches, kicks or worse.
"There was one particular leader during the month of July that was particularly sadistic," says Foster. "Actually, he had braided a few of the Christmas light cords together. He would come up behind inmates that were working slow and slash them across the back. I can remember him very clearly, him doing it to this boy, who was in my estimation mentally retarded. And he would deliver blows that — right before my eyes — you would see the welts develop."
Foster says the U.S. Consulate in Guangzhou took a keen interest in his case and checked on him regularly. Compared with most inmates, Foster says, he had it easy.
"They took mercy on me as an American," he recalls. "I couldn't work as fast as they could. I would assemble about 3,000 lights a day, and the Chinese would do double what I did," he says. "I was, what I often say, the prize animal in a very bad zoo."
Firsthand Look At Authoritarianism
The Guangzhou police denied Foster's stories of beatings and said the jail operated under what they called "the rule of law and civilized management."
Courtesy of Stuart Foster
Remorseful, Foster pleaded guilty and was sentenced to eight months, close to the time he'd already served.
Foster, a lanky, 6-footer who is mostly bald, was well-liked by colleagues at Guangdong University of Foreign Studies, where he'd taught for a total of five years. After his release, police took him to the airport to be deported. Several friends came along and gave him a round of applause.
Back home in South Carolina, Foster is trying to rebuild his life. Looking back on his time in jail, he isn't bitter.
"It's given me a tremendous appreciation for life," Foster says in a typically reflective moment. "I'm sitting in a chair now, and for eight months, I didn't have a chair. Also, I want to say it gave me immense respect for the human spirit to endure."
As a sociologist, Foster says, he's actually grateful to have seen the brutality of authoritarianism firsthand.
"That, in a way, became my purpose, to give meaning to my existence there," he says. "I was like, OK, I will live to tell this story."
Foster is now working on a memoir. And after all those months assembling Christmas lights, he tells friends: Next holiday season, light candles.
Read more about Stuart Foster's life inside a Chinese jail at his website, White Cloud Detention.
Stories about forced labor have trickled out of China over the years, but what makes Prisoner 1741's so remarkable is that he isn't Chinese. He's American. In fact, he's a middle-aged, American sociology professor from South Carolina.
Stuart Foster's odyssey inside the Chinese penal system began in April of last year, when police in the city of Guangzhou took him to jail on theft charges. Foster had confessed to taking a large sum of money from an American colleague at a local university.
When Foster arrived at the White Cloud District Detention Center, he says, they gave him a cup and a toothbrush and put him in a cell about the size of a racquetball court where he would spend most of the next 280 days.
"In the cell, there was an average of 30 men,"says Foster, an amiable 49-year-old who speaks with a Southern drawl. "There were no chairs, there were no beds. We slept on the concrete floor, and most people didn't even have a sheet and certainly no pillows. It was so crowded that most inmates had to sleep on their side."
In the morning, Foster says, he and his mostly Chinese cellmates would spend an hour marching in place and then begin work putting together Christmas lights.
"They would bring in large, industrial plastic bags that had the components that would be assembled," Foster recalls. "Each prisoner would get their quota, and inmates would line the walls or they would sit in circles just on the floor, assembling lights to sockets."
The detention center didn't provide uniforms. So inmates worked in just their underwear during the hot summer months, he says. Foster was stunned that Chinese officials put him in a cell where he participated in and witnessed forced labor.
"I felt it was a major mistake," says Foster. Some guards became worried. "Are you going to tell people about this when you go back to America?" they asked him. "Yes! Yes, I will," he answered.
Foster says the Christmas lights he assembled are the type that look like icicles and hang from the rain gutters of many an American home during the holiday season. Over time, Foster befriended a guard, who said he helped sell the lights to unwitting U.S. companies at a famous trade fair in the city.
"I was on B block, because this was the only guard who spoke reasonable English. And he told me the reason he spoke reasonable English is because he was the individual who was involved with the selling at the Canton Trade Fair," Foster says. "He would refer to them as his 'American friends.' "
Forced Labor Common In Chinese Jails
NPR sent emails to and called the Canton Trade Fair, which refused to comment. The Guangzhou Public Security Bureau, on the other hand, confirmed that inmates do assemble Christmas lights — but suggested that the jail provided labor on contract and did not sell directly to companies.
Maya Wang, a researcher for the Asia division of Human Rights Watch, says forced labor is common in Chinese jails.
"In China, labor is actually written in the detention center regulations," she says. "So, we could safely say that millions of people are engaging in forced labor at any one time in just the detention centers alone."
"These people have not been convicted yet," Wang says. "That is a very abusive situation."
Prison labor is big business in China. A cursory Internet search yields at least two-dozen Chinese prisons offering inmate labor to make everything from crystal balls and fake eyelashes to dentures and pleather products. A prison in eastern China's Shandong province touts the advantages of inmates over ordinary workers: "Not only can you save labor costs, you can also finish the project early."
Foster says labor at his detention center was really cheap.
"Nobody got paid anything," he says. "If you didn't work, you didn't get food."
Or you got beaten.
Foster says a group of inmates ran the cell. They spurred workers with punches, kicks or worse.
"There was one particular leader during the month of July that was particularly sadistic," says Foster. "Actually, he had braided a few of the Christmas light cords together. He would come up behind inmates that were working slow and slash them across the back. I can remember him very clearly, him doing it to this boy, who was in my estimation mentally retarded. And he would deliver blows that — right before my eyes — you would see the welts develop."
Foster says the U.S. Consulate in Guangzhou took a keen interest in his case and checked on him regularly. Compared with most inmates, Foster says, he had it easy.
"They took mercy on me as an American," he recalls. "I couldn't work as fast as they could. I would assemble about 3,000 lights a day, and the Chinese would do double what I did," he says. "I was, what I often say, the prize animal in a very bad zoo."
Firsthand Look At Authoritarianism
The Guangzhou police denied Foster's stories of beatings and said the jail operated under what they called "the rule of law and civilized management."
Foster, a lanky, 6-footer who is mostly bald, was well-liked by colleagues at Guangdong University of Foreign Studies, where he'd taught for a total of five years. After his release, police took him to the airport to be deported. Several friends came along and gave him a round of applause.
Back home in South Carolina, Foster is trying to rebuild his life. Looking back on his time in jail, he isn't bitter.
"It's given me a tremendous appreciation for life," Foster says in a typically reflective moment. "I'm sitting in a chair now, and for eight months, I didn't have a chair. Also, I want to say it gave me immense respect for the human spirit to endure."
As a sociologist, Foster says, he's actually grateful to have seen the brutality of authoritarianism firsthand.
"That, in a way, became my purpose, to give meaning to my existence there," he says. "I was like, OK, I will live to tell this story."
Foster is now working on a memoir. And after all those months assembling Christmas lights, he tells friends: Next holiday season, light candles.
Read more about Stuart Foster's life inside a Chinese jail at his website, White Cloud Detention.
The U.S. Government Treats Detained Immigrants Like Slaves
The New York Times reported
this Sunday that one national employer relied on the labor of more than
60,000 immigrant workers last year to cook, clean, and do laundry while
living behind locked doors and barbed wire. The employer paid them only
$1 per day – or in some cases, compensated them with nothing more than
soda and candy bars. In one facility, people who organized a work
stoppage and hunger strike were thrown into solitary confinement.
Yet when asked to comment, federal authorities claimed that this is all completely legal and none of the workers were being coerced.
Why?
Because the employer is U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and its subcontactors, and the workers are administrative detainees in the agency’s sprawling network of approximately 250 immigration detention facilities, performing the labor that keeps these detention facilities running. Thus, while the federal government cracks down on undocumented immigrants and prohibits them from working elsewhere, it has, in essence, become the largest employer of undocumented immigrants in the nation.
Unfortunately, this type of (literally) captive labor force is nothing new. After the end of the Civil War, former slaves who left their old plantations were often arrested for minor or trumped-up legal violations – particularly vagrancy, a crime especially easy for African-American men to be convicted of when traveling to unfamiliar towns to seek new jobs. Southern sheriffs then “leased” the newly-convicted men to private companies, which forced them to work without compensation in mines, plantations, and factories.
That “convict lease” system was the historical antecedent to the modern private prison industry – and to the ICE detainee labor program profiled in the Times this week, which helps make immigration detention profitable for the private prison companies that run most detention facilities, like the Corrections Corporation of America and GEO Group. And like the newly freed slaves arrested for seeking better jobs after the Civil War, many of the more than 400,000 people swept into immigration detention each year are kept locked up for bad reasons and denied due process.
The fact that the federal government is locking up so many people, putting them to work in coercive conditions, and robbing them of a fair wage for that work should outrage our sense of decency and fair play. And the fact that this has happened before in our history makes it inexcusable.
Learn more about immigration detention and other civil liberty issues: Sign up for breaking news alerts, follow us on Twitter, and like us on Facebook.
Yet when asked to comment, federal authorities claimed that this is all completely legal and none of the workers were being coerced.
Why?
Because the employer is U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and its subcontactors, and the workers are administrative detainees in the agency’s sprawling network of approximately 250 immigration detention facilities, performing the labor that keeps these detention facilities running. Thus, while the federal government cracks down on undocumented immigrants and prohibits them from working elsewhere, it has, in essence, become the largest employer of undocumented immigrants in the nation.
Unfortunately, this type of (literally) captive labor force is nothing new. After the end of the Civil War, former slaves who left their old plantations were often arrested for minor or trumped-up legal violations – particularly vagrancy, a crime especially easy for African-American men to be convicted of when traveling to unfamiliar towns to seek new jobs. Southern sheriffs then “leased” the newly-convicted men to private companies, which forced them to work without compensation in mines, plantations, and factories.
That “convict lease” system was the historical antecedent to the modern private prison industry – and to the ICE detainee labor program profiled in the Times this week, which helps make immigration detention profitable for the private prison companies that run most detention facilities, like the Corrections Corporation of America and GEO Group. And like the newly freed slaves arrested for seeking better jobs after the Civil War, many of the more than 400,000 people swept into immigration detention each year are kept locked up for bad reasons and denied due process.
The fact that the federal government is locking up so many people, putting them to work in coercive conditions, and robbing them of a fair wage for that work should outrage our sense of decency and fair play. And the fact that this has happened before in our history makes it inexcusable.
Learn more about immigration detention and other civil liberty issues: Sign up for breaking news alerts, follow us on Twitter, and like us on Facebook.
Using Jailed Migrants as a Pool of Cheap Labor
HOUSTON
— The kitchen of the detention center here was bustling as a dozen
immigrants boiled beans and grilled hot dogs, preparing lunch for about
900 other detainees. Elsewhere, guards stood sentry and managers took
head counts, but the detainees were doing most of the work — mopping
bathroom stalls, folding linens, stocking commissary shelves.
As
the federal government cracks down on immigrants in the country
illegally and forbids businesses to hire them, it is relying on tens of
thousands of those immigrants each year to provide essential labor —
usually for $1 a day or less — at the detention centers where they are
held when caught by the authorities.
This
work program is facing increasing resistance from detainees and
criticism from immigrant advocates. In April, a lawsuit accused
immigration authorities in Tacoma, Wash., of putting detainees in
solitary confinement after they staged a work stoppage and hunger
strike. In Houston, guards pressed other immigrants to cover shifts left
vacant by detainees who refused to work in the kitchen, according to
immigrants interviewed here.
The
federal authorities say the program is voluntary, legal and a
cost-saver for taxpayers. But immigrant advocates question whether it is
truly voluntary or lawful, and argue that the government and the
private prison companies that run many of the detention centers are
bending the rules to convert a captive population into a self-contained
labor force.
Last
year, at least 60,000 immigrants worked in the federal government’s
nationwide patchwork of detention centers — more than worked for any
other single employer in the country, according to data from United
States Immigration and Customs Enforcement, known as ICE. The cheap
labor, 13 cents an hour, saves the government and the private companies
$40 million or more a year by allowing them to avoid paying outside
contractors the $7.25 federal minimum wage. Some immigrants held at
county jails work for free, or are paid with sodas or candy bars, while
also providing services like meal preparation for other government
institutions.
Unlike
inmates convicted of crimes, who often participate in prison work
programs and forfeit their rights to many wage protections, these
immigrants are civil detainees placed in holding centers, most of them
awaiting hearings to determine their legal status. Roughly half of the
people who appear before immigration courts are ultimately permitted to
stay in the United States — often because they were here legally,
because they made a compelling humanitarian argument to a judge or
because federal authorities decided not to pursue the case.
“I
went from making $15 an hour as a chef to $1 a day in the kitchen in
lockup,” said Pedro Guzmán, 34, who had worked for restaurants in
California, Minnesota and North Carolina before he was picked up and
held for about 19 months, mostly at Stewart Detention Center in Lumpkin, Ga. “And I was in the country legally.”
Mr.
Guzmán said that he had been required to work even when he was running a
fever, that guards had threatened him with solitary confinement if he
was late for his 2 a.m. shift, and that his family had incurred more
than $75,000 in debt from legal fees and lost income during his
detention. A Guatemalan native, he was released in 2011 after the courts
renewed his visa, which had mistakenly been revoked, in part because of
a clerical error. He has since been granted permanent residency.
Claims of Exploitation
Officials
at private prison companies declined to speak about their use of
immigrant detainees, except to say that it was legal. Federal officials
said the work helped with morale and discipline and cut expenses in a
detention system that costs more than $2 billion a year.
“The
program allows detainees to feel productive and contribute to the
orderly operation of detention facilities,” said Gillian M. Christensen,
a spokeswoman for the immigration agency. Detainees in the program are
not officially employees, she said, and their payments are stipends, not
wages. No one is forced to participate, she added, and there are
usually more volunteers than jobs.
Marian Martins, 49, who was picked up by ICE officers in 2009 for overstaying her visa and sent to Etowah County Detention Center
in Gadsden, Ala., said work had been her only ticket out of lockdown,
where she was placed when she arrived without ever being told why.
Ms.
Martins said she had worked most days cooking meals, scrubbing showers
and buffing hallways. Her only compensation was extra free time outside
or in a recreational room, where she could mingle with other detainees,
watch television or read, she said.
“People
fight for that work,” said Ms. Martins, who has no criminal history. “I
was always nervous about being fired, because I needed the free time.”
Ms.
Martins fled Liberia during the civil war there and entered the United
States on a visitor visa in 1990. She stayed and raised three children,
all of whom are American citizens, including two sons in the Air Force.
Because of her deteriorating health, she was released from detention in
August 2010 with an electronic ankle bracelet while awaiting a final
determination of her legal status.
Natalie
Barton, a spokeswoman for the Etowah detention center, declined to
comment on Ms. Martins’s claims but said that all work done on site by
detained immigrants was unpaid, and that the center complied with all
local and federal rules.
The
compensation rules at detention facilities are remnants of a bygone
era. A 1950 law created the federal Voluntary Work Program and set the
pay rate at a time when $1 went much further. (The equivalent would be
about $9.80 today.) Congress last reviewed the rate in 1979 and opted
not to raise it. It was later challenged in a lawsuit under the Fair
Labor Standards Act, which sets workplace rules, but in 1990 an
appellate court upheld the rate, saying that “alien detainees are not government ‘employees.’ ”
Immigrants
in holding centers may be in the country illegally, but they may also
be asylum seekers, permanent residents or American citizens whose
documentation is questioned by the authorities. On any given day, about
5,500 detainees out of the 30,000-plus average daily population work for
$1, in 55 of the roughly 250 detention facilities used by ICE. Local
governments operate 21 of the programs, and private companies run the
rest, agency officials said.
These
detainees are typically compensated with credits toward food,
toiletries and phone calls that they say are sold at inflated prices.
(They can collect cash when they leave if they have not used all their
credits.) “They’re making money on us while we work for them,” said Jose
Moreno Olmedo, 25, a Mexican immigrant who participated in the hunger
strike at the Tacoma holding center and was released on bond from the
center in March. “Then they’re making even more money on us when we buy
from them at the commissary.”
A Legal Gray Area
Some
advocates for immigrants express doubts about the legality of the work
program, saying the government and contractors are exploiting a legal
gray area.
“This
in essence makes the government, which forbids everyone else from
hiring people without documents, the single largest employer of
undocumented immigrants in the country,” said Carl Takei, a lawyer with
the American Civil Liberties Union’s National Prison Project.
Jacqueline
Stevens, a professor of political science at Northwestern University,
said she believed the program violated the 13th Amendment, which
abolished slavery and involuntary servitude except as punishment for
crime. “By law, firms contracting with the federal government are
supposed to match or increase local wages, not commit wage theft,” she
said.
Immigration
officials underestimate the number of immigrants involved and the hours
they work, Professor Stevens added. Based on extrapolations from ICE
contracts she has reviewed,
she said, more than 135,000 immigrants a year may be involved, and
private prison companies and the government may be avoiding paying more
than $200 million in wages that outside employers would collect.
A 2012 report by the A.C.L.U. Foundation of Georgia
described immigrants’ being threatened with solitary confinement if
they refused certain work. Also, detainees said instructions about the
program’s voluntary nature were sometimes given in English even though
most of the immigrants do not speak the language.
Eduardo
Zuñiga, 36, spent about six months in 2011 at the Stewart Detention
Center in Georgia, awaiting deportation to Mexico. He had been detained
after being stopped at a roadblock in the Atlanta area because he did
not have a driver’s license and because his record showed a decade-old
drug conviction for which he had received probation.
At
Stewart, Mr. Zuñiga worked in the kitchen and tore ligaments in one of
his knees after slipping on a newly mopped floor, leaving him unable to
walk without crutches. Despite doctors’ orders to stay off the leg, Mr.
Zuñiga said, the guards threatened him with solitary confinement if he
did not cover his shifts. Now back in Mexico, he said in a phone
interview that he must walk with a leg brace.
Gary
Mead, who was a top ICE administrator until last year, said the agency
scrutinized contract bids from private companies to ensure that they did
not overestimate how much they could depend on detainees to run the
centers.
Detainees
cannot work more than 40 hours a week or eight hours a day, according
to the agency. They are limited to work that directly contributes to the
operation of their detention facility, said Ms. Christensen, the agency
spokeswoman, and are not supposed to provide services or make goods for
the outside market.
But that rule does not appear to be strictly enforced.
At the Joe Corley Detention Facility
north of Houston, about 140 immigrant detainees prepare about 7,000
meals a day, half of which are shipped to the nearby Montgomery County
jail. Pablo E. Paez, a spokesman for the GEO Group, which runs the
center, said his company had taken it over from the county in 2013 and
was working to end the outside meal program.
Near San Francisco, at the Contra Costa West County Detention Facility,
immigrants work alongside criminal inmates to cook about 900 meals a
day that are packaged and trucked to a county homeless shelter and
nearby jails.
A Booming Business
While
President Obama has called for an overhaul of immigration law, his
administration has deported people — roughly two million in the last
five years — at a faster pace
than any of his predecessors. The administration says the sharp rise in
the number of detainees has been partly driven by a requirement from
Congress that ICE fill a daily quota of more than 30,000 beds in
detention facilities. The typical stay is about a month, though some
detainees are held much longer, sometimes for years.
Detention
centers are low-margin businesses, where every cent counts, said
Clayton J. Mosher, a professor of sociology at Washington State
University, Vancouver, who specializes in the economics of prisons. Two
private prison companies, the Corrections Corporation of America and the
GEO Group, control most of the immigrant detention market. Many such
companies struggled in the late 1990s amid a glut of private prison
construction, with more facilities built than could be filled, but a
spike in immigrant detention after Sept. 11 helped revitalize the
industry.
The
Corrections Corporation of America’s revenue, for example, rose more
than 60 percent over the last decade, and its stock price climbed to
more than $30 from less than $3. Last year, the company made $301
million in net income and the GEO Group made $115 million, according to
earnings reports.
Prison
companies are not the only beneficiaries of immigrant labor. About 5
percent of immigrants who work are unpaid, ICE data show. Sheriff
Richard K. Jones of Butler County, Ohio, said his county saved at least
$200,000 to $300,000 a year by relying on about 40 detainees each month
for janitorial work. “All I know is it’s a lot of money saved,” he said.
Mark Krikorian, executive director of the Center for Immigration Studies,
an advocacy group that promotes greater controls on immigration, said
that with proper monitoring, the program had its advantages, and that
the criticisms of it were part of a larger effort to delegitimize
immigration detention.
Some
immigrants said they appreciated the chance to work. Minsu Jeon, 23, a
South Korean native who was freed in January after a monthlong stay at
an immigration detention center in Ocilla, Ga., said that while he
thought the pay was unfair, working as a cook helped pass the time.
“They don’t feed you that much,” he added, “but you could eat food if you worked in the kitchen.”
Kristina Rebelo contributed reporting from San Diego, and Kitty Bennett contributed research from St. Petersburg, Fla.
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