Pubdate: Wed, 29 Dec 1999 Source: Wall Street Journal (US) Copyright: 1999 Dow Jones & Company, Inc. Contact: 200 Liberty Street, New York, NY 10281 Website: http://www.wsj.com/ Author: Joel Millman , staff reporter Bookmark: MAP's link to articles on stories from Texas: http://www.mapinc.org/states/tx 'OPERATION BUCKSTOP' IS MEANT TO CATCH MONEY LAUNDERERS, BUT IRRITATES MEXICANS HOUSTON INTERCONTINENTAL AIRPORT -- Terminal C here could be the waiting area of any bus station in Mexico. Young men wearing Stetsons, denim jackets and steel-toed cowboy boots slouch exhausted on vinyl seats. A graying cop in uniform surveys the scene, and tries to make eye contact with as many men as he can. The ones who try to look away are the ones he will stop later, before they board their homeward-bound flights. For U.S. Customs Service Inspector William J. Monks, Christmas season at the airport means sweeping for money in suitcases and packages. Traffic to Latin America is heavy during the holidays, and the 51-year old Texan with the brushy moustache is more interested in outbound contraband than inbound. Drug seizures make headlines, he says. But big cash seizures make cases -- and break drug rings. Mr. Monks and his team have plenty of routes to choose from. San Salvador or Mexico City? San Pedro Sula or Leon? Those flights leave Terminal C every morning, all within a space of 20 minutes. Later there's Bogota, Guadalajara, Lima and Panama City. One carrier, Continental Airlines, hauls an average of 10,000 passengers a day via Houston to Latin America on more than 50 flights. Never before have so many airlines been flying to so many of the places money launderers like to go. "I love seizing cash from money launderers," says Mr. Monks, stretching out the "love" in a Texan drawl. "It is like grabbing the prize at the end of a game." But money launderers? Rarely. Those same flights carry thousands of hardworking immigrants on their way home. To Mexico, the annual return of its expatriate work force represents a windfall of more than $1 billion. And Mexican officials are angry their citizens have to run Mr. Monks's gantlet. Last year here, out of 100,813 passengers searched, money was seized from only one Mexican national -- a mother traveling with an infant, who forfeited $18,924 -- in a sweep the Customs Service calls "Operation Buckstop." Carlos Felix, director of consular affairs for Mexico's Foreign Relations ministry, calls it something else. "It is serious mistreatment by U.S. authorities," he says. Cecilia Munoz of the National Council of La Raza, a Latino organization in Washington, has another label for it: "It's racial profiling," she says. Customs officials say they don't engage in racial profiling. They say immigrants aren't among those considered most likely to be lugging illegal cash, even if they do tend to make up the majority of passengers on flights that agents like to search. Operation Buckstop stems from the 1970 Bank Secrecy Act, which requires that all cash transactions exceeding $10,000 be reported to the U.S. Treasury. International travelers crossing a U.S. border -- whether at airports, seaports or overland -- are also required to report any sums exceeding $10,000 that they're bringing in and out of the country. Thanks to a booming economy, millions of undocumented Latin Americans are working in the U.S. Many have worked in the U.S. for years, often in jobs where they are paid in cash. For customs agents such as Mr. Monks, separating criminal cash from the earnings of drywall hangers, baby-sitters and busboys is a task that can be done only through direct confrontation. That means making each passenger walk past a checkpoint of agents empowered to search bags, open mail and, sometimes, remove a suspect from a flight. Surveillance starts in the terminal, as agents in plain clothes scan waiting areas full of young men and women. Uniformed agents then take positions in the Jetway, the retractable tunnel connecting the gate to the aircraft. In Spanish, one agent asks each arriving passenger if he or she has money to report. "I wish!" says Jorge Jimenez, a Houston construction worker as moves over to a table where three more agents wait to inspect his tote bag. In the searches of more than 100,000 people last year, agents made just eight seizures of illegal cash. One was the Mexican mom. The proceeds from the other seven -- made from a Panamanian, a Guatemalan and five Salvadorans -- totaled $137,791. So far, no seizures have been made here this year. Customs officials defend such paltry pickings by noting that nearly $7 million was found on people who agreed to report cash before searches, filing disclosure forms. Then, says Mr. Monks, "they can take their money and leave." But considering the results, diplomats such as Mr. Felix find the effort insulting to Mexico. Although agents no longer demand that the people they search remove their shoes or clothing -- a source of frequent gripes in years past -- he says they still are abusive. "Most people are scared," he says. "When we ask them to make a formal complaint, they back off. Let's face it, a lot of them are undocumented. They don't want problems." Mr. Felix points out that Mexico has worked hard to get its own police to treat homeward-bound immigrants with respect. Ten years ago, it started the "Paisano" program, which is designed to reduce the hassles migrants face on the way back to their families. Central to this is an effort to raise the consciousness of Mexico's cops, who used to be notorious for shaking down returnees, and of the immigrants themselves who have been taught to report the cops if they do. A guidebook handed out at Mexico's 42 U.S. consulates instructs returnees faced with corrupt federals to "take down the name, badge number or identification card number of the public servant." Those guidelines aren't meant to extend to dealings with U.S. public servants, but Los Angeles immigration attorney Andres Bustamante says they should. Last week, two clients he represents were stopped at Kansas City International Airport by an agent of the Drug Enforcement Agency. Four hours later, they were allowed to board their flight to Los Angeles, leaving behind $12,450, forfeited as the suspected proceeds of a drug sale. "It was racism, that's all," says Ismael Jacobo, a 34-year old house painter from a village in Michoacan state. He says half the money was his - -- the other $6,150 belonged to his friend -- and that he was carrying it to buy a used car in Topeka. He says he was detained at the airline counter after paying cash for his return ticket, something he said he had to do because he has neither a credit card nor a bank account. He concedes he has been working in the U.S. illegally. Drug agents confirm the seizure, adding that Mr. Jacobo can file a claim to recover his cash. They confirm that neither man was charged with a crime. "All the indicators that allow officers to seize money suspected to be derived from drug trafficking were met," says DEA spokesman Terry Parham. Mr. Jacobo doubts he will see his money again, but he plans to file a claim. "It's common to approach Mexicans at the airport, especially this time of year, and take their money," says Mr. Bustamante, the attorney. "They get a receipt and go on their way. Sometimes we get the money back. Sometimes we don't." - --- MAP posted-by: Eric Ernst