WaPo Paints Illegal Immigrants Persecuted Like Jews 'in Nazi Germany'

As an MRC study has proven, liberal broadcast media has a strong record of skewed coverage of illegal immigration. Print coverage in major metropolitan broadsheets in no different. In her August 30 article, Washington Post staff writer Pamela Constable featured English-speaking illegal immigrants lamenting "hateful talk against immigrants."

"Many have no legal documents," Constable conceded of the day laborers waiting at 5:30 a.m. outside a Gaithersburg, Md., work center operated by "the nonprofit CASA de Maryland." Constable failed to note anywhere in her article the pro-illegal immigration, pro-amnesty stance CASA consistently promotes.

Indeed, Constable's mission was not to report both sides of the immigration debate, but rather to paint a stark, emotional account full of loaded language, including comparing the plight of illegal immigrants to Jews hiding from Nazi persecution:

They have anxiously followed the news of Virginia communities passing laws against illegal immigrants, of stepped-up factory raids and deportations. And they hear the angry voices.

"A guy hired me the other day to do some painting. I got in his van and right away he turned on the radio. It was one of those stations that is full of hateful talk against immigrants. I just sat in the back and said nothing, but it made me feel like a Jew in Nazi Germany."

The speaker, a young Salvadoran named Angel, gives a brief, bitter smile.

The others nod and guffaw, glance up from scanning "Deportes" or "Clasificados" in the weekly Spanish-language newspapers.

"Americans complain that we don't learn English, but I'm glad a lot of my friends don't know the language," Angel says. "If they could hear what the media say about us, it would hurt their hearts."

Later in the article, Constable conflated mindless violence with peaceful protest, lumping both together as examples of "critics" of the Gaithersburg day labor trailer:

But for some local opponents, the site is still not far enough away. On the day the trailer was inaugurated, someone came early in the morning, poured flammable liquid on the porch and set it on fire.

On two other mornings since, protesters gathered nearby, holding up signs and shouting slogans. The police came, and the TV cameras, but the staff members told the men to ignore them and ushered work trucks past the picketers, who eventually left.

Constable found no critics of the day labor center to quote for her article, even though she informed the reader that "it is assumed" most day labor center workers are in the country illegally.

As icing on the cake, Constable tipped her hat to the religious left, closing with an immigrant singing a hymn with a decidedly political double meaning for her immigration story:

Someone prods Ernesto for a song. He is a small, solid Mexican of few words, embarrassed at the attention. He tunes his guitar, clears his throat. A tentative chord, then suddenly he is thrumming and thumping, eyes closed, head lifted. It is a spirited ballad, straight out of the popular church.

"On this Earth I have no citizenship," Ernesto sings in a strong, soaring voice. "My only house is in heaven." The men nod knowingly, and burst into applause.