Scandals in EB-5 Visa Program

Scandals in EB-5 Visa Program


Date: Friday, March 05, 2010 7:14 PM


<<<<< JOB DESTRUCTION NEWSLETTER No. 2090 -- 3/05/2010 >>>>>

web version:
http://blog.vdare.com/archives/2010/03/05/scandals-and-vice-in-eb-5-visa-program/


The EB-5 visa (see TEA Party) is called various names, the most common
being Investor, Entrepreneur, or Founder. In the year 2000 The Baltimore
Sun published a standout series on the EB-5 program that exposed the crime
and corruption that is associated with the program. The series was authored
by Walter F. Roche Jr. and Gary Cohn. It s a story about the revolving
doors between Capitol Hill and the big money lobbyists who influence
immigration policy.

http://blog.vdare.com/archives/2010/03/03/tea-parties/
TEA Party

The original article on the Baltimore Sun website disappeared from the
internet a long time ago, but it can be found in the nooks and crannies of
the internet. One of the surprising places to find the complete series of
articles [following commentary] is at a website owned by an immigration law
firm Liebman-Mimbu. At the top of the page a lawyer named Stephen W.
Yale-Loehr, who became an adjunct professor at Cornell, wrote a comment
worth scrutiny:

The series certainly will make it harder for us to revive the EB-5
program. Suggestions, anyone?
Steve Yale-Loehr

http://www.lawschool.cornell.edu/faculty/bio.cfm?id=86
Stephen W. Yale-Loehr

NOTE: My comments are delineated with brackets: []. Quotes from the article
are indented with no brackets.

[In order to understand the significance of that statement, it must be
understood that Loehr supports the EB-5 program. He is merely lamenting
that bad publicity generated by the Sun articles could slow business down.
In retrospect his fears were probably overblown because the story affected
very little. A renewed Congressional push to expand the visa and relax the
rules shows that nobody in Washington DC learns anything from history.]

[In the year 2009 Loehr testified before Congress. This excerpt shows that
Loehr hasn t learned anything in 10 years except how to shill better:]

These examples illustrate that although the number of EB-5 investors is
small compared to other green card categories, the EB-5 program packs a
powerful economic punch. Consider the incredible impact on the U.S. economy
if all 10,000 EB-5 green cards were used each year. The math is simple:
10,000 times $500,000 each is $5 billion dollars. That would be enough to
build the new DHS headquarters building. Yet the economic impact is far
greater than that. EB-5 investors invest considerably more in the U.S.
economy than the minimum capital required. They do so by buying houses,
sending their children to private universities, paying local, state and
federal taxes, and investing in our economy both through publicly traded
securities as well as in private investments. Their job-producing
capacities far outstrip their actual EB-5 investment.

Testimony of Stephen Yale-Loehr, July 22, 2009, "Hearing on
Promoting Job Creation and Foreign Investment in the United States: An
Assessment of the EB-5 Regional Center Program Before the Committee on the
Judiciary U.S. Senate"
http://judiciary.senate.gov/hearings/testimony.cfm?id=3998&wit_id=8138


[The Sun series was 14 pages long. It will interest those that enjoy
reading the minutiae of Washington DC high jinks, but for the rest of you I
copied a few noteworthy quotes and re-arranged their order to group
comments by topics.]

The investor visa program was a little-noticed part of the Immigration
Reform Act, a sweeping law that reshaped the country s immigration
policies. President George Bush called the law "the most comprehensive
reform of our immigration laws in 66 years." It was, he said as he signed
the bill into law on Nov. 29, 1990, "good for families, good for business,
good for fighting crime and good for America." While his predictions may
yet come true, a review of the decade-old law shows that it has benefited
one group not mentioned by the president -- former INS officials and their
associates who have pocketed millions in fees from wealthy foreigners
willing to invest their savings to join in the American dream.

The law required that immigrants invest $1 million in new or troubled
U.S. businesses, or $500,000 in a business located in an area of high
unemployment. In many cases, only a small fraction of the total -- often
just $10,000 per investor -- went to the struggling companies. The intent
of the law was that each immigrant s investment would create or preserve
at least 10 American jobs. However, some of the faltering companies have
closed and laid off workers, with at least one filing for bankruptcy.

Though the legislation failed in 1986, it was renewed in 1989 and in
1990, when the investor visa program was included in a massive immigration
bill. A House version was filed by Rep. Bruce Morrison, a Democrat who
chaired the subcommittee on immigration. The Senate version was filed by
Sen. Edward M. Kennedy, a Massachusetts Democrat.


[So, the usual immigration scofflaws were behind EB-5. Kennedy filed the
Senate version of H-1B and Senator John McCain co-sponsored it.]


During the brief House debate on the measure, Rep. John W. Bryant, a
Texas Democrat, expressed strong objections."This provision is an
unbelievable departure from our tradition of cherishing our most precious
birthright as Americans," said Bryant. "Have we no self-respect as a
nation? Are we so broke we have to sell our birthright?"

[Bryant understood that the EB-5 program was a pimp and prostitution racket
to sell visas. The answer to both of Bryant s questions is "YES".]


The investor visa program was controversial from the start. Ten years
ago, after the legislation was introduced, Rep. Doug Bereuter, a Nebraska
Republican, warned: "If the [Senate] has its way, 4,800 foreign fat cats
would be permitted to buy their way into American citizenship, contingent
upon their employment of 10 American workers for at least two years. "The
issue goes to the heart of what we, as Americans, and our nation are all
about," he told House colleagues. "This member would deeply regret to learn
that our principles, our values and, indeed, American citizenship itself,
is for sale to the highest bidder."

Under the program, known technically as EB5, up to 10,000 visas a year
can be issued to investors and members of their family who invest $1
million in a U.S. company for the purpose of creating 10 jobs.

On March 15, 1991, Morrison s press secretary, Paul Donnelly, set up
a company in Hyattsville called Investment Immigration Consulting Co. Its
purpose, according to Maryland records, was to provide consulting and other
services related to the investor visa program.

[Morrison and Donnelly deserve additional mention. In 1989 Congressman
Bruce Morrison (D-Conn) was Chairman of the Immigration Subcommittee. He
claims he was the architect of the H-1B program but many of us believe that
Morrison was just a figurehead to push the legislation in Congress.
H-1B s true architect was more likely attorney Austin T. Fragomen who
probably wrote the entire piece of legislation and just handed it over to
Morrison. Donnelly s role as Morrison s public relations spin doctor
was to justify H-1B by propagandizing about shortages of high-tech workers.
Morrison, Donnelly, and Fragomen are sordid examples of shady deal making
and the revolving doors in Washington, DC.]

[If you want somebody to blame for the H-1B program the triumvirate of
Fragomen, Morrison, and Donnelly are as good as any. Donnelly also deserves
blame for turning the IEEE-USA into a bunch of brain dead zombies that
think it s in the best interest of U.S. engineers for the government to
issue unlimited numbers of instant green cards. Morrison and Donnelly still
work as lobbyists who push for promoting various types of immigration
agendas. Recently in February of 2010 Morrison testified in a hearing held
by the USCIS to discuss third party contractor issues (bodyshops).]


Making the program more appealing, the rulings [by Paul Virtue, Former
INS General Counsel] allowed investment agreements to include provisions
ensuring that investors would not lose money. Initially, applicants need
put up only $125,000 in cash, not the $500,000 or $1 million spelled out in
the law. Under Virtue s rulings, investors could get permanent green
cards before being required to follow through with the full amount of the
investment. The result was that investors could put up $125,000 and promise
to pay the rest, knowing that they would never have to do so.

[Fortunately most of Virtue s changes were later overturned, like for
instance the lower price of $125,000. However, it s not unusual for these
foreign investors to avoid paying the full cost even if they get their
permanent residency.]


The flood of approved investor visa programs included that of a firm
called Wall Street Financial Corp., based in Hawaii. According to filings
with the Securities and Exchange Commission, the company attracted more
than $1 million in investments through the investor visa program. Wall
Street Financial, records show, invested that money in a
multimillion-dollar resort in Belize, not in businesses in the United
States.

[Bait and switches like this are common in the EB-5 program and have been
the subject of numerous fraud lawsuits and indictments. See this DHS
document to read about EB-5 fraud, and what the DHS claims they are doing
to put a stop to it.]


In the rush to cash in on the law, the visa vendors have left a trail
of victims -- from families seeking a new beginning in America to
struggling companies needing a promised infusion of cash to keep their
workers employed. Now, many of those families are facing the threat of
deportation, while many troubled companies that were promised a boost from
immigrant investors have closed their doors, leaving hundreds of workers
unemployed.

[In the entire series not a single word was said about the Americans who
have been displaced from the job market as a direct result of the
importation of foreign workers by the use of the EB-5 visa. The unemployed
workers the Sun was shedding crocodile tears for were immigrant victims,
not U.S. citizens. Oh well, it was the Baltimore Sun that published the
article so it would be foolish to expect much sympathy for Americans.]


Former Democratic Sen. Dale Bumpers of Arkansas, a longtime critic,
said recently: "Under the best of circumstances this was a terrible idea.
It was just an outrageous concept to me."

[Bumpers was right then, and since then nothing has changed.]


http://www.dhs.gov/xlibrary/assets/CIS_Ombudsman_EB-5_Recommendation_3_18_09.pdf
EMPLOYMENT CREATION IMMIGRANT VISA (EB-5) PROGRAM RECOMMENDATIONS, March
18, 2009

http://www.usa-immigration.com/litigation/Sun%20articles.pdf
Baltimore Sun archived article

http://archive.newsmax.com/archives/articles/2003/2/25/145737.shtml
The Price Tag for a Green Card

http://www.vdare.com/misc/elkins_greencards.htm
excerpt from
Greenbacks for Green Cards


+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


http://www.baltimoresun.com/

http://www.usa-immigration.com/litigation/Sun%20articles.pdf

Pasted in below are three articles about the EB-5 program published in the
Baltimore Sun on
Feb. 20.
While the overall series is anti-EB-5, at least the middle article points
out the problems facing
individual investors. The series certainly will make it harder for us to
revive the EB-5 program.
Suggestions, anyone?
Steve Yale-Loehr

INS insiders profit on immigrant dreams Cashing in: Former immigration
officials siphon
millions from a program to entice foreign investors with the promise of
green cards.
By Walter F. Roche Jr. and Gary Cohn Sun Staff
Baltimore Sun Feb. 20, 2000
Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe
free.
Over more than half a century, 12 million immigrants streamed into America
welcomed by the
words of Emma Lazarus engraved at the base of the Statue of Liberty.
But welcoming the tired and poor was hardly on the minds of a small group
of former
government officials who helped design an immigration program to attract
wealthy foreigners
who could obtain prized green cards by investing $500,000 to $1 million in
U.S. businesses.
The investor visa program was a little-noticed part of the Immigration
Reform Act, a sweeping
law that reshaped the country's immigration policies.
President George Bush called the law "the most comprehensive reform of our
immigration laws
in 66 years." It was, he said as he signed the bill into law on Nov. 29,
1990, "good for families,
good for business, good for fighting crime and good for America."
While his predictions may yet come true, a review of the decade-old law
shows that it has
benefited one group not mentioned by the president -- former INS officials
and their associates
who have pocketed millions in fees from wealthy foreigners willing to
invest their savings to join
in the American dream.
In the rush to cash in on the law, the visa vendors have left a trail of
victims -- from families
seeking a new beginning in America to struggling companies needing a
promised infusion of
cash to keep their workers employed.
Now, many of those families are facing the threat of deportation, while
many troubled companies
that were promised a boost from immigrant investors have closed their
doors, leaving hundreds
of workers unemployed.
An investigation by The Sun has found:
Some of the former INS officials who have profited most from the visa
vending business were
instrumental either in formulating the program or lobbying for favorable
interpretations of the
program rules that aided their businesses, at times working with the same
INS staff they once
directed.
One of the most active participants in the visa vending has been Gene
McNary, INS
commissioner from October 1989 to January 1993. By his estimate, after
leaving the federal
government, McNary acted as the attorney on 200 to 250 applications for the
program.
The immigration act's main sponsor in the House of Representatives, Rep.
Bruce A. Morrison of
Connecticut, went into business with a California immigration consultant to
market the investor
visa program within days after his congressional term ended. Morrison's
agreement was dated
Jan. 22, 1991, the month he left Congress.
Former officials such as McNary, former INS general counsel Maurice Inman
and Diego
Asencio, the former U.S. ambassador to Colombia and Brazil, had
extraordinary access to and
incessantly lobbied former colleagues in the government for preferential
treatment and obtained
a series of highly favorable but questionable rulings on the requirements
for the program that
only years later were reversed.
"Diego Asencio, Mike Inman, Gene McNary are allowed to roam the Visa Office
and INS
whenever they please," lamented one frustrated State Department official in
a memo that
questioned the propriety of the former officials' activity. "They often
just drop in without any
warning and they walk about the building like they still worked for the USG
[U.S. government].
I feel like a very small but chubby mouse between two very hungry and big
tomcats."
The law required that immigrants invest $1 million in new or troubled U.S.
businesses, or
$500,000 in a business located in an area of high unemployment. In many
cases, only a small
fraction of the total -- often just $10,000 per investor -- went to the
struggling companies.
The intent of the law was that each immigrant's investment would create or
preserve at least 10
American jobs. However, some of the faltering companies have closed and
laid off workers, with
at least one filing for bankruptcy. Elnor Bailey's clothing factory in
Alabama was the sort of
business the program was designed to help. But she received only $50,000,
not enough to keep
the factory from closing last fall. She was never told she was entitled to
substantially more
money. "It makes me angry," she said. "It really does."
When the INS finally did crack down on program abuses in December 1997, it
did so with a
vengeance, leaving hundreds of people in limbo -- including many immigrants
who had tried to
follow rules in effect at the time. As a result of that reversal, hundreds
of immigrants who
thought they had found a legitimate way to live in the United States are
facing not only the loss
of their investments, but possible deportation.
"I saw the United States as my final shore," said one immigrant investor,
Mario Carbini of Italy.
Now, he said, "I don't know if I'm living a nightmare."
Government officials who balked at approving questionable arrangements were
ignored, or
worse. Instead of having their concerns taken seriously, they were told
"just issue the frigging
visa," said Melissa Arkley, a State Department official who helped to
administer the investor
visa program.
Even the former INS official who for years was at the center of the
program's implementation
acknowledges that it is deeply flawed. "My overall sense is that it's a
mess," said Paul W. Virtue,
who was general counsel for INS.
America for sale
The investor visa program was controversial from the start.
Ten years ago, after the legislation was introduced, Rep. Doug Bereuter, a
Nebraska Republican,
warned: "If the [Senate] has its way, 4,800 foreign fat cats would be
permitted to buy their way
into American citizenship, contingent upon their employment of 10 American
workers for at
least two years.
"The issue goes to the heart of what we, as Americans, and our nation are
all about," he told
House colleagues. "This member would deeply regret to learn that our
principles, our values and,
indeed, American citizenship itself, is for sale to the highest bidder."
Former Democratic Sen. Dale Bumpers of Arkansas, a longtime critic, said
recently: "Under the
best of circumstances this was a terrible idea. It was just an outrageous
concept to me."
Under the program, known technically as EB5, up to 10,000 visas a year can
be issued to
investors and members of their family who invest $1 million in a U.S.
company for the purpose
of creating 10 jobs. A smaller investment of $500,000 qualifies if the
investment is made in rural
or high unemployment areas.
Investors who qualify get a conditional green card for two years and then a
permanent green card
if INS is satisfied that the investment is still in place and was not
fraudulent.
Although some 80,000 investor visa petitions could have been approved since
the law was
passed, only 3,547 petitions were approved through 1999, according to INS
data.
While the law creating the investor visa program was passed in 1990, the
effort to win approval
began years before.
"This one provision," declared Illinois Democrat Paul Simon during a 1986
Senate debate, "will
generate over $8 billion annually in new investments in small and
independent U.S. businesses,
and provide up to 100,000 new jobs for Americans."
The impetus for the visa program came from a similar strategy in Canada
that was attracting
millions of dollars from wealthy Hong Kong residents. Why not have some of
that money come
to the United States, supporters argued, especially since the country was
suffering through an
economic downturn.
Though the legislation failed in 1986, it was renewed in 1989 and in 1990,
when the investor
visa program was included in a massive immigration bill. A House version
was filed by Rep.
Bruce Morrison, a Democrat who chaired the subcommittee on immigration. The
Senate version
was filed by Sen. Edward M. Kennedy, a Massachusetts Democrat.
Changes in the immigration law had been recommended by a commission chaired
by the Rev.
Theodore M. Hesburgh, former president of Notre Dame University.
"It smacked of being able to buy citizenship," said Hesburgh recently. "I
think I was the only one
who voted against it. I just didn't feel right about it."
During the brief House debate on the measure, Rep. John W. Bryant, a Texas
Democrat,
expressed strong objections.
"This provision is an unbelievable departure from our tradition of
cherishing our most precious
birthright as Americans," said Bryant. "Have we no self-respect as a
nation? Are we so broke we
have to sell our birthright?"
Even the bill's sponsor expressed reservations. The idea "leaves a bad
taste in my mouth,"
Morrison said. But "there is a lot of foreign investment going on right
now. Who do you want,
someone who puts down roots or just puts down his money?"
Court records show that Morrison, who was leaving Congress after an
unsuccessful bid to
become governor of Connecticut, went into business with a California
immigration consultant
named Maria Hsia. His job was to market the investor visa program to
foreign investors.
His contract, dated Jan. 22, 1991, called for payments of $10,000 per month
for six months.
Morrison contends that Hsia owes him $20,580.50 in salary and expenses.
Morrison, who now heads the Federal Housing Finance Board, said he saw
nothing improper
about going into the business after his term as long as he did not try to
gain preferential treatment
based on his former position.
"No, it is not wrong," said Morrison. "What was I supposed to do for a
living?"
On March 15, 1991, Morrison's press secretary, Paul Donnelly, set up a
company in Hyattsville
called Investment Immigration Consulting Co. Its purpose, according to
Maryland records, was
to provide consulting and other services related to the investor visa
program.
Harold Ezell, Western regional INS commissioner from 1983 to 1989, ran an
investor visa
consulting business in Orange County, Calif., before his death in 1998.
"We've done a great job on boat people. I see no problem with a few yacht
people," Ezell said in
1991, soon after the law went into effect.
But the efforts of Morrison, Donnelly, Ezell and other insiders would soon
resemble a skiff
alongside an ocean liner. The investor visa program was about to get a
boost from a major new
player called American Immigration Services, a Greenbelt firm formed by a
local real estate
developer.
State records show AIS was incorporated in Maryland on Feb. 8, 1991. Soon,
its board of
directors boasted a who's who of the politically connected, including Diego
Asencio, a former
ambassador and assistant U.S. secretary of state for consular affairs.
Bryant, the vehement critic,
was recruited as a board member at $20,000 a year.
Bryant said he was recruited by Asencio precisely because of his
opposition.
"Diego thought that since the enterprise was going to ask the investors to
put up their money and
they would have to trust the company, my having been a critic might help
their credibility," said
Bryant, who is no longer on the AIS board.
Also on the AIS board were William Clark Jr., a former ambassador and State
Department
official; Prescott S. Bush, the brother of the president who signed the
1990 law; and Jack F.
Matlock Jr., a former ambassador. McNary, the former INS commissioner, was
signed up as
legal counsel. The first INS regulations governing the investor visa
program were issued under
McNary's signature on Nov. 29, 1991.
The owner of AIS was Donald Laskin, a Maryland developer, who soon after
AIS was formed
became the subject of a federal investigation. In October 1996, Laskin
pleaded guilty to bank
fraud in a Prince George's County land deal. He declined to comment for
this article.
By all accounts, the investor visa program got off to a slow start. For the
first two years there
weren't many applications -- nowhere near the 10,000 per year allowed under
the law.
But internal memos and other records show it was not long before efforts
were under way that
would open the floodgates to applications. Leading those efforts was a
small group of former
INS officials, along with Asencio -- all, at least initially, affiliated
with AIS.
According to court records, Maurice Inman, a former general counsel at INS,
quickly emerged as
an important player. He appeared initially as an adviser to AIS and would
reappear as a key
figure in a rival company. Two other AIS representatives, Asencio and
former INS
Commissioner McNary, became familiar figures in government offices dealing
with the
program.
Wearing his adviser's hat, Inman turned to Paul Virtue, who had been hired
by Inman before he
left the INS in 1986. Virtue was to emerge as INS' expert and the key
administrative decisionmaker
on the investor visa program.
"Paul Virtue, who I knew extremely well, became the decision-maker, the
boss," Inman said.
Every time we put a deal together, Inman said, we'd take it to INS and go
over it in detail before
formally submitting it. He said someone from INS -- he didn't know who --
had given his name
to prospective investors.
The Virtue rulings
Occasionally during discussions with INS, agency officials would recommend
a change and "we
would comply," Inman said. "You've got to have predictability. People are
putting their lives and
their savings on the line."
"Predictability" came in the form of two key legal opinions issued by
Virtue on Sept. 10, 1993,
and June 27, 1995. The memos were to completely change the shape and scope
of the investor
visa program -- and became a boon to AIS.
The rulings stated that investor visa applicants could pool their money and
form limited
partnerships. Immigrants could meet investment requirements without putting
all the money up
in cash. A promissory note could be used.
Making the program more appealing, the rulings allowed investment
agreements to include
provisions ensuring that investors would not lose money. Initially,
applicants need put up only
$125,000 in cash, not the $500,000 or $1 million spelled out in the law.
Under Virtue's rulings, investors could get permanent green cards before
being required to
follow through with the full amount of the investment. The result was that
investors could put up
$125,000 and promise to pay the rest, knowing that they would never have to
do so.
The effect of the rulings was reflected in INS statistics. In 1995, 417
investor visa petitions were
filed. In 1996, the number rose to 801, and in 1997, to 1,496.
The flood of approved investor visa programs included that of a firm called
Wall Street Financial
Corp., based in Hawaii. According to filings with the Securities and
Exchange Commission, the
company attracted more than $1 million in investments through the investor
visa program. Wall
Street Financial, records show, invested that money in a
multimillion-dollar resort in Belize, not
in businesses in the United States.
Gerhard Walch, the firm's president, said the program was approved by the
INS. He failed to
respond to requests for further information, including the number of Wall
Street Financial
investors who obtained green cards. INS officials declined to comment.
The sudden surge of investor visa applications and approvals triggered
concern in the
Department of State, where consular officers were required to review the
applicants.
A perception was growing among State Department officials that the rules
were being bent to
accommodate a small group of former INS officials, according to interviews
and State
Department cables, e-mail and other documents obtained by The Sun. Those
memos questioned
the legality of the AIS investments, comparing the operation to a Ponzi
scheme.
"Bill, you should know that Diego Asencio, Mike Inman, Gene McNary are
allowed to roam the
Visa Office and INS whenever they please," Sylvia L. Hammond, a State
Department official,
wrote to William Martin, then a consular officer in Tokyo, on Feb. 14,
1997. "They often just
drop in without any warning and they walk about the building like they
still worked for the USG
[U.S. government]. I feel like a very small but chubby mouse between two
very hungry and big
tomcats."
Another State Department official, H. Edward Odom, wrote to consular
official Wayne G.
Griffith: "Everyone in the department and in INS who has come into contact
with these cases has
immediately detected the odor of them."
"Again, nobody likes the situation, especially having to deal with cases
which are pushing the
envelope on legality and which also involve the former head of CA [consular
affairs]," referring
to Asencio. "We are all uncomfortable."
In a Valentine's Day 1997 e-mail to Donna Hamilton, then-principal deputy
assistant secretary of
state for consular affairs, Griffith complained that INS and the State
Department were "caving
in" to "heavy political pressure."
As one example of how the former INS officials were able to get their way,
State Department
visa official Melissa Arkley described a September 1997 meeting attended by
AIS attorneys
William Cook and Gene McNary, the visa office and the INS.
At the meeting, Arkley wrote: "AIS representatives made a number of
assertions which INS, led
by Paul Virtue, appeared to accept without question. ... Among other
statements, Mr. Cook
characterized the EB-5/T-5 program as 'selling green cards' with the only
problem being the
price at which the government was selling them."
Arkley wrote that AIS officials boasted about their conversations with
Virtue.
"They have frequently asserted that they had 'just spoken to Paul' or that
Paul Virtue had
'promised' them that their investor agreements were in full compliance with
the current
regulations," she wrote.
Arkley, a consular officer in the State Department's central office for two
years ending in mid-
1999, said her colleagues failed to respond to concerns about the investor
visa program coming
from embassies around the world.
"We rolled over and played dead," Arkley said. "Not only did we not
advocate [on behalf of
consular officers], we put our foot on their throats and told them to shut
up. 'Cease and desist!
Just issue the frigging visa,' is what we told them."
Finally, though, the drumbeat of opposition within the INS and State
Department led then-INS
general counsel David Martin to issue a memo on Dec. 19, 1997.
The opinion struck down many of the rules issued by Virtue, including
provisions that ensured
that final payments would never have to be made, the use of a portion of
the immigrant's
contribution to pay expenses such as attorney and finder's fees, and the
guaranteed return on the
cash portion of the investment. The ruling tightly restricted the use of
promissory notes.
Even after the Martin ruling, concerns about preferential treatment were
raised within INS.
"There continues to be a lack of serious will by this office to address
squarely and in a forthright
manner the ongoing ethical problem created by providing inordinate access
to former INS
officials," INS attorney S. Alexander Gisser wrote in a May 15, 1998, memo
to his boss, David
Dixon. "This type of special accommodation should stop, once and for all."
The memo concluded: "I hope you haven't forgotten that it was the Office of
General Counsel
which, in large part, created this mess by accommodating these officials
inappropriately in the
past."
Inman had been warned that rule changes might be in the works, but said the
Martin memo
caught him by surprise.
"When I heard about the memo, this got my attention in a big way," Inman
said. "They [INS]
kept telling us to cool it. Don't worry."
He first called Paul Virtue, whom he said had assured him repeatedly that
any changes would not
be retroactive. Inman said Virtue "reiterated the promises that had been
made by him that the
rules would not be changed."
But the changes did come. And they were retroactive.
In a series of "precedent rulings" in 1998, INS made the reversal official,
striking down
applications involving types of promissory notes, guaranteed investment
returns and other key
elements of the AIS programs.
Inman said he learned around that time that Virtue, who had become the
subject of an internal
investigation by the INS inspector general's office, had been taken off the
investor visa program.
Virtue said he has heard nothing since being interviewed by the inspector
general's office several
months ago about its probe into allegations that he might have been unduly
influenced by former
INS officials. Virtue said his recusal was voluntary and not related to the
investigation.
By the time of Virtue's recusal, Inman had stopped working with AIS and
joined another
investment visa firm, American Export Partners. Inman said he disagreed
with AIS officials'
decision to limit the initial investment from visa applicants to $125,000.
"We parted over the decision to embark on the $125,000 program -- $125,000
was not enough.
Our clients [firms seeking investment money] needed more," Inman said.
American Export was also hit by the INS rulings, and its lawyers filed suit
last spring in U.S.
District Court in South Carolina alleging that the new policy contradicted
at least four written
opinions from the INS administrative appeals office and "promises and
representations" made by
INS.
Among other documents, the lawsuit cited Paul Virtue's 1993 and 1995 memos.
Asked in an interview how often he received assurances from INS officials
that his programs
were in compliance, Inman said: "Maybe 30 or 40 times."
But Inman insists that his access was proper and of little consequence
compared to that of
McNary.
"I knew who to call, but that's the only benefit," Inman said. "McNary had
a hell of a lot more
contacts than I ever dreamed of ... and more current contacts than I ever
dreamed of."
"My connections were current because I left INS after he [Inman] did,"
McNary said.
The former INS commissioner said he waited more than a year after he left
INS in early 1993
before becoming involved in the immigration business. A one-year wait is
required under federal
law.
"I probably talked to Paul [Virtue] three or four times -- a couple of
times about the investor visa
program," McNary said. "They were changing the rules and I was just trying
to find out what
they were doing."
'McNary's baby'
But McNary's efforts on behalf of AIS were not limited to calls and
meetings with Virtue. An
internal memo written by Dennis Janda, an official at the INS service
center in Dallas, recounts a
series of key events for AIS and underscores the role McNary had played in
shaping the investor
visa program while he headed INS.
In the memo, written in April 1996, Janda recounted discussions at INS
headquarters in 1991 in
which top INS officials referred to the investor visa program as "McNary's
baby" and said
McNary "was basically scripting the direction of this program."
Janda said in the memo that he was not surprised to learn of McNary's
involvement when a key
AIS investor visa application landed on his desk in the summer of 1995. The
case was important
because once it was decided, it would determine the fate of hundreds of AIS
applications to
follow.
Janda, according to the memo, did not believe the application met "the
letter or spirit" of the law.
At the urging of superiors, he phoned McNary at his St. Louis law offices
to discuss it.
Describing McNary as "the moving force" behind the program, Janda wrote
that McNary assured
him that he had run the proposals by the head of the INS unit that would
ultimately hear any
appeal in the case.
Even after McNary submitted additional materials, Janda did not believe the
AIS application met
requirements.
According to Janda's memo, he spoke with the head of the appeals unit, who
affirmed McNary's
statements.
"I prepared notes to the file at that time regarding that important
discussion, and by default,
approved the case as there would be no point in subjecting our office to
needless criticism," the
memo states.
McNary acknowledged speaking with Janda and sending him copies of earlier
approvals. He said
he was simply doing his job. "I was an immigration lawyer at that point,"
McNary said.
Asked if he got preferential treatment, McNary, who is running for Congress
from Missouri,
said: "Absolutely not. To the contrary, not only was it arm's length, it
was an extra step I had to
go through to ask for a meeting."
As a private attorney, McNary markets the expertise he gained as INS
commissioner. A Web site
for McNary's law firm states: "Mr. McNary returned to the private practice
of immigration law
armed with a unique knowledge and understanding of immigration law and the
operations of the
federal agency which regulates and administers these laws."
Virtue, now in private law practice, strenuously denied giving favored
treatment to Inman,
McNary, companies they represented or any of the other firms in the
investor visa program.
"There were allegations that I was unduly influenced by people representing
companies in the
program. I certainly deny unequivocally that there was special treatment,"
he said.
Virtue acknowledged signing the two memos but said he did not prepare them,
a task he said was
performed by members of his staff.
Virtue acknowledged the meetings with Inman, McNary, Asencio and others,
and the frequent
phone calls from Inman. "Mike Inman probably called me four or five times a
day," Virtue said.
Asked if he assured Inman that any rule changes would not be retroactive,
Virtue replied: "To the
extent I could assure him at all, I felt we would be publishing new
regulations. ... He gives me
credit for more authority than I had."
If he were to do it again, Virtue said, "I don't think I would have
entertained any direct contact or
meetings with people representing those companies. I would have made it
clear [that] the general
counsel's office is in the business of providing legal advice to our
clients. ... While I tried to
make that clear, I would have put it in writing on the side of a building
somewhere."
Virtue said it was his belief at the time that the AIS programs
"technically" complied with the
law and regulations.
"Yes, clearly, they were taking advantage of the regulatory scheme as much
as they possibly
could," he said.
But there were those inside INS who said Virtue's rulings created the
problem.
"Virtue's interpretations invited the abuse," said Benedict J. Ferro,
former regional director in
Baltimore. "They never made sense. They were inconsistent with the law."
Splitting the fees
The companies and their principals were generating lucrative fees for
themselves and their
associates. In a lawsuit in U.S. District Court in Baltimore, a former AIS
employee alleged that
the firm's programs provided only $10,000 per investor to businesses, a
small fraction of the
$500,000 and $1 million required by law.
In a lawsuit alleging that AIS defrauded the government, Joaquin A.
Tremols, who worked for
the firm from Sept. 25 to Dec. 11, 1995, said investors were required to
put up only $125,000 in
cash -- and that only $10,000 went to troubled companies.
According to the lawsuit, of the $125,000, $10,000 went to McNary's law
firm for legal fees;
$15,000 was a finder's fee to the person who recruited the immigrant
investor; $25,000 went to
AIS for administrative and other fees; $65,000 went into a trust account;
and $10,000 went to the
troubled business.
"The trust account," Tremols' lawsuit states, "guaranteesx each investor a
10 percent return on
their investment per year."
Based on the 120 enrolled investors, the lawsuit estimates that $58 million
that should have been
invested in American businesses never was. The lawsuit alleges that McNary
acted in a dual role
-- as legal adviser to AIS while simultaneously providing legal services to
investors who paid
him a $10,000 fee. McNary refused to discuss fees, but acknowledged
handling 200 to 250
investor visa applications.
Based on those figures and the fees alleged in the Tremols lawsuit, McNary
and his law firm
could have collected legal fees of $4 million to $5 million.
A copy of McNary's standard contract with investor clients was attached to
the Tremols lawsuit.
It includes a provision under which clients agreed to allow McNary's firm
to represent both
parties.
Tremols, who dropped his lawsuit late last year, declined to comment. State
Department cables
that detail the AIS transactions corroborate the figures in the lawsuit.
Had he won the case,
Tremols could have received a portion of any damage award assessed against
AIS.
William Cook, a former INS general counsel who represents AIS, defended the
firm's actions
and said that because of uncertainly created by the INS policy shift,
further payments from
investors to the companies were never made. Asked repeatedly to provide an
accounting of how
much money was provided to the companies, Cook never responded.
Cook, like other AIS officials, attributes the INS action, in part, to
jealousy.
"There were a number of former INS people who made a reasonably large
amount of money in
this program," said Cook. "McNary made millions. Inman made millions."
Rhetoric and reality
In October 1995, McNary and other AIS representatives held a news
conference in Selma, Ala.,
to announce that up to $25 million would be invested in local textile
companies under the
investor visa program. They said the money would give a much-needed
financial boost to two
Selma companies, Denim Specialists and Dallas Manufacturing, and help
preserve 500 jobs.
McNary was quoted in a local newspaper as saying that although the initial
investments wouldn't
be large, "there is a potential for $25 million over the long haul."
Although the program had been
slow in getting going, he said, "we're over the hump and will be able to
preserve those jobs."
That was the rhetoric. This was the reality.
In 1996, Denim Specialists filed for bankruptcy after being evicted from
its factory. James Utsey
of Selma, the owner of Dallas Manufacturing and two other textile firms,
was present at the news
conference that day. He said he was repeatedly rebuffed in efforts to get
more than the $100,000
initially provided by AIS, which he said was in the form of a loan. The
payments apparently
represented the contributions of 10 investors.
"We had a fairly heated argument," said Utsey, outside his now dark and
abandoned factory,
recalling a conversation with AIS officials. Eventually, AIS wouldn't
return his phone calls.
Asked if he was aware of what became of the companies in Alabama, McNary
said he did not
know.
When Congress established the investor visa program, it was with struggling
businesses like
Bailey Creations in mind.
Elnor Bailey, now 74, started her company 13 years ago, partly to provide
jobs for neighbors in
the depressed rural town of York, Ala., near the Mississippi border. By the
mid-1990s, she was
running out of cash and afraid she might have to close her factory and lay
off workers. Then she
heard about the investor visa program. A talk with an AIS representative
offered encouragement
that she'd be able to keep her business going.
Bailey said she received $50,000, which helped for a while. But bills
mounted, and Bailey closed
her company last September and laid off its 75 workers.
Her factory sits idle. Patterns for the women's and children's clothing
that once poured off the
assembly line hang on the walls. Dozens of sewing machines are stacked at
one end, covered in
cobwebs.
Months after her plant closed, Bailey learned that more than $500,000 that
could have kept her
business alive was sitting in escrow in a bank account she couldn't access
and hadn't known
existed.
"I didn't know there was any rest of the money," she said. "I can promise
you if I had gotten
$500,000, I would be in business."
State Department cables show government officials knew in 1997 that only a
small fraction of
the money was going to Bailey's company, while AIS legal and administrative
fees ate up five
times that amount.
"My mind keeps going back to 'It's the government,' " said Bailey. "They
should have been doing
their job. You just can't put a program out there and not monitor it."
Originally published on Feb 20 2000
Investors follow INS rules and now fear deportation
By Walter F. Roche Jr. and Gary Cohn Sun Staff
It's not hard to see how Sing-Young Wang and his wife, Chin-Hua Lu, would
feel betrayed by
America.
Four years ago, Wang gave up his medical practice and sold everything he
owned in Taiwan to
come to the United States so his 7-year-old son, born with a birth defect,
could have a chance at
a normal life.
The Wangs pinned their hopes on a little-known American program under which
immigrants
could get a permanent green card, the ticket to citizenship, in return for
investing up to $1
million in a U.S. business. It is called the investor visa program.
Hard as he tried to follow the rules, Wang, his wife and their three
children now face the threat
of deportation. They and hundreds like them are caught in a dispute over
what Congress intended
when it created the program a decade ago. In an abrupt change in policy
implemented in 1998,
the Immigration and Naturalization Service reinterpreted its rules.
Investors now face an almostcertain
order to leave the United States.
The INS reversal has spawned legal challenges from Hawaii to South
Carolina. For immigrant
families, the waiting is painful.
"Sometimes I cannot sleep at night," Wang said. "I never felt so scared in
my life."
Jeffrey was born with hydrocephalus -- fluid accumulated inside his skull,
pressuring the brain.
In Taiwan, he would face a life of institutionalization.
"I took him to every doctor and physical therapist," said Mrs. Wang, who
refused to abandon
hope. Even her mother disagreed when the Wangs decided that the best chance
for their son was
to come to America.
Fighting tears, she described how her mother, visiting a few years later,
conceded that her
daughter had been right -- Jeffrey was markedly improved.
"She said, 'You try your best to stay here,' " Mrs. Wang recalled.
To qualify for investor visas, the Wangs were determined to adhere strictly
to the law. They'd
heard of programs where you could put up $125,000 instead of $500,000 or $1
million, but
rejected them.
He abandoned his ophthalmology practice and invested in a California
computer business with
relatives there. When it failed, the Wangs lost about $700,000.
Intent on keeping their visas, they invested $500,000 in a Fresno
partnership formed by Spencer
Enterprises, which INS had approved for the program. They later learned INS
had rejected
investor visas for other partners.
Attorneys for Spencer Enterprises have filed suit in U.S. District Court in
Fresno alleging that
INS violated due process when it reversed itself and revoked the approvals
of four immigrant
investors and their families.
The Wangs are not plaintiffs in the lawsuit because their visas have not
been revoked. Earlier
this month, the INS notified the Wangs that the agency intends to revoke
its approval.
"The INS is the judge and the jury," Wang said. "You can never fight back
and win."
But Jeffrey's parents still believe they did the right thing.
"We lost a lot of money, but it's worth everything," said Wang. "Here, even
if you have just one
dollar you have a chance. He still has a chance to be independent."
Andy Su came from Taiwan to study at the University of Southern California,
where he earned a
bachelor's degree in structural engineering.
Su wanted to stay in the United States to get more experience before
joining his family's
contracting business. He considered staying permanently. In 1996, he heard
about the investor
visa program.
Backed by money from his family, Su decided to take no chances,
sidestepping programs that
promised citizenship for only a fraction of the cost under the investor
visa law.
He found what seemed an ideal opportunity -- the Hilltop Motor Lodge in
Vista, Calif. The
owner was deeply in debt and about to close. The 72-unit motel had lost
money for two years
and accumulated debt of $1 million.
Su put up nearly $1.3 million and bought it outright, not taking out a
mortgage. He put 10 people
to work, the number required under the 1990 investor visa law.
He gained a temporary visa in 1997. Last April, the INS gave notice that it
intended to revoke his
visa, questioning the source of his funds and whether his investment
continued to meet job
creation requirements. Su provided further documentation. On Aug. 25, he
received final notice
of revocation.
Fearing that he would be forced to leave, Su looked for another means of
staying in the country.
He learned of the investor treaty program, which does not promise a
permanent green card, has
no set investment levels and is limited to immigrants from countries with
trade relations with the
United States.
Su went to Texas, crossed into Mexico and returned as a treaty investor,
using the motel he had
used to qualify for the investor visa program. As a treaty investor, Su
will face reviews of his
investment every five years and will never get a permanent green card.
"I'm frustrated and feel like I've been cheated," Su said. "I thought that
here in America, the rule
was the rule. Sometimes you play by the rules and you get burned."
Immigration lawyers say Su, the Wangs and hundreds of others are the
victims of an
overreaction by the INS to a problem the agency created when it failed to
put proper controls on
the program in the first place.
"A lot of people are getting hurt," said Lincoln Stone, a California
attorney, who represents
foreign investors and is a former partner of ex-INS general counsel Maurice
Inman. "The INS
has closed its ears and closed its mind. Where in this policy is the
consideration of people?"
"Was there abuse in the program? Absolutely," said Henry Liebman, a Seattle
lawyer who set up
an investor visa program. He said firms like American Immigration Services
in Maryland
"ruined the program for everyone."
Liebman's investment group, the Golden Rainbow Freedom Fund, filed suit
last spring in U.S.
District Court in Seattle contending that the INS acted arbitrarily and
capriciously in changing
program rules retroactively. The INS has denied the allegations. The
lawsuit is pending.
INS officials declined to be interviewed for these articles, citing pending
litigation over the
program.
Despite the INS reversal, some investors have cut a path through the
regulatory thicket.
For Ronald Huiskamp, 30, and his wife, Alice, 33, who came to the United
States from the
Netherlands, it took three applications to get their green cards on track.
"America had great appeal," he said. "It is the land of opportunity."
But the Huiskamps worried about the requirement that an investment produce
and maintain 10
jobs. He feared that if the business couldn't support the jobs, he and his
wife could face
deportation.
An attorney told them about amendments in 1992 that allowed credit for
indirect job creation if
the money was placed in a federally approved regional center. A $500,000
investment is
required.
"That allowed us to make an investment for the program but still work on
our other businesses,"
Huiskamp said, adding that they learned about the Seattle center via the
Internet. Eventually, the
Huiskamps invested in a bank being formed in a Seattle suburb.
To avoid further red tape, the Huiskamps invested the full $500,000 before
filing their visa
application. Even so, they experienced lengthy delays and repeated INS
inquiries.
"INS froze the program in 1998 ... two weeks after we filed our first
application," Huiskamp
said. "We thought it would take three to four months, but it took over a
year."
The Huiskamps seem on their way to U.S. citizenship, but many face an
uncertain fate. While a
solution could come through the courts, critics say Congress must show the
way.
In a report filed with Congress last year, INS urged passage of a law to
clarify the program and
its intent. INS said the law should require that money be invested in full
and set a deadline for its
commitment. The INS urged penalties for investor visa marketing firms that
misrepresent the
program.
Originally published on Feb 20 2000
Pointing fingers, assigning blame Interbank: A Virginia firm offering a
cut-rate investment plan
comes under INS scrutiny - with investors trapped in the middle.
By Walter F. Roche Jr. and Gary Cohn Sun Staff
Federal investigators allege that it is a company "permeated with fraud."
It's founders say it is a
victim of the "meddlesome fervor" of a federal agency.
The Interbank Group of Herndon, Va., quickly became a major player in a
little-known federal
program that allowed foreigners to become permanent U.S. residents by
investing up to $1
million in an American business. A $500,000 investment qualified in areas
of high
unemployment.
Set up four years ago by James F. O'Connor and James Geisler, Interbank
promised to create
hundreds of jobs in economically depressed West Virginia through its Invest
in America
program.
Like a rival firm, American Immigration Services of Greenbelt, Interbank
told investors they
could qualify with an investment not of $1 million or $500,000, but as
little as $125,000.
Like AIS head Dennis Laskin, O'Connor had come under the scrutiny of
federal law enforcement
officials.
O'Connor, then 23, and Bernard J. Coven, 62, were convicted in 1981 of
attempted fraud.
O'Connor received a 10-year sentence and a $44,000 fine, Coven a 10-year
term and a $34,000
fine.
O'Connor told The Sun that he learned of the investor visa program from a
client in a currency
exchange business, and that he and Geisler spent six months developing
investment plans that
would qualify for the visa program. They set up business in West Virginia,
where unemployment
ran high, so visa applicants could qualify with a $500,000 investment.
Interbank signed up hundreds of visa applicants and began the process of
gaining INS approval.
The original application was turned down, but was approved by INS on
appeal, O'Connor said.
Interbank officials say they then got caught up in "meddlesome fervor," an
INS overreaction to
allegations against AIS. Suddenly, all of their applications were in
jeopardy.
Interbank had other problems. Federal investigators raided the company's
headquarters in
September 1998. In an affidavit, INS Special Agent Elizabeth M. Goyer said
the agency had
reason to believe Interbank was filing false statements with visa
applications.
According to the affidavit, Interbank told visa applicants they could put
up $150,000 or less,
which would eventually be refunded. Further, the affidavit states, "there
is probable cause to
believe that Interbank and its related entities are permeated with fraud."
No federal action -- criminal or civil -- has been initiated against the
company.
But Interbank is being sued by clients, including Mario Carbini of Santa
Barbara, Calif., who
filed suit this year in U.S. District Court in Los Angeles, accusing the
firm of delaying the filing
of his application, ultimately causing it to be rejected. Interbank did not
respond to the lawsuit,
and a judgment recently was issued in Carbini's favor awarding him a
refund.
Carbini, an accountant, sold his apartment in Italy and put up his savings
to pursue his dream of
becoming a U.S. citizen. He signed up for the Interbank program in August
1997, paying
$20,000 in fees and $100,000 that was to go to an American business.
Carbini, 55, said he had no illusions that his investment was a good one.
He went ahead, he said,
because he wanted the chance to move permanently to the United States,
eventually to become
an American citizen.
"We wanted the green card," he said. "You don't invest with someone you
don't know. You can
buy shares of Ford or Microsoft."
Carbini said he checked out other Interbank deals, found they were
approved, then "gave money
to them like it was nothing."
In September 1997, Interbank filed an investor visa petition on Carbini's
behalf. He believed it
would be approved, he said, because similar petitions had been.
On Nov. 11, 1998, the INS denied his petition.
"I'm very angry with INS, and also with Interbank," Carbini said. Interbank
"took advantage of
the situation and the INS
didn't give a damn about us."
He said he invested because of his faith in the U.S. government.
"It's the best democracy in the world. You trust it blindly. I saw the
United States as my final
shore," Carbini said. Now, "I don't know if I'm living a nightmare."
Other pending lawsuits allege that Interbank officials used millions of
dollars in investment
funds to keep the firm and its subsidiaries in business. Those funds, up to
$150,000 per investor,
were to have been placed in escrow accounts that were not to be used unless
the investors
obtained green cards.
None received green cards, and the money has been spent, court records
show.
In a letter to an investor, company officials attempted to explain their
actions: "Interbank was
facing a very difficult decision. Businesses cannot survive without cash
flow."
In September, the company sought Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection.
Interbank promised to provide hundreds of new jobs in West Virginia, but
never opened its doors
there. Company officials blame INS.
For investors, recovering their money may be only a dream.
Originally published on Feb 20 2000

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

http://archive.newsmax.com/archives/articles/2003/2/25/145737.shtml

The Price Tag for a Green Card

Jeff Elkins in his report "Greenbacks for a Green Card" notes that in some
cases green cards are for sale.

"Congress, which in 1990 created the so-called investor or EB-5 visa
program, unwittingly designed an open invitation to bribery and fraud that
allows foreigners to purchase permanent green cards by "investing" as
little as $500,000 in an American business. Elkins refers to the recent
case of federal immigration judge D. Anthony Rogers.

The original story, by Walter F. Roche Jr., appeared in the Baltimore Sun
on Jan. 10, 2003, under the headline "Immigration judge sought business
with visa vendors. Tape recording seized in U.S. visa fraud probe shows
apparent conflict."

Judge D. Anthony Rogers presides in Federal Immigration Court in
Dallas. He is in charge of sensitive visa and deportation cases. A sting
operation conducted by the feds in 1998 found Judge Rogers seeking a
financial partnership with a Virginia firm whose green card seeking foreign
clients could end up before him in court. The feds got it all on tape.

The Sun report continued:

In the taped conversation, the judge bragged that his business
relationship with an Arab sheik would generate millions of dollars in
business and said that a $20,000 fee for referring each potential client to
the Interbank Group was not sufficient. The Herndon, Va., firm helped
foreign residents gain permanent U.S. residency under a federal program
that required them to invest at least $500,000 in an American business.

The tape recording caught Rogers saying to two officials of Interbank, who
are now serving time for immigration fraud: "Let me go ahead and just be as
abrupt as I can about it. If you think for some reason or other I am going
to bring you $30 million worth of potential investors for a $20,000-a-head
pop, I'm not interested in doing that. I'm not that dumb."

The Sun article related that "Interbank was one of a handful of companies
set up to market a little-known investor visa program created by Congress
in 1990. Under the program, foreigners were to invest $500,000 in American
businesses in return for lifetime U.S. residency rights. But Interbank
clients actually invested just $125,000, with the balance accounted for by
what federal prosecutors charged was a phony loan."

Apparently, Judge Rogers was not acting in his capacity as an immigration
judge in the federal courts, but rather as one of the approximately 15,000
to 20,000 immigration lawyers practicing in the U.S. Rogers complaint
with Interbank was that he was not happy with the "usual sliding scale of
referral fees that Interbank was offering to immigration lawyers fees
that ranged from $12,000 to $20,000 per referral, depending on volume."

In a taped conversation, Rogers stated, "I believe that we were talking
about a more coordinated and partnership approach to a relationship with
you all in which we were going to be able, theoretically, to provide you
all with a significant amount of investor money."

Judge D. Anthony Rogers still collects his $132,000 salary and he still
sits on the federal bench to which he was appointed in 1993. Investigators
for the INS express concern and exasperation that he remains on the bench
in Dallas.

One bad apple, you say? Or is Judge Rogers just one of many trying to make
money off of the immigration and visa system? They include those who
smuggle aliens into the U.S. as well as federal court judges, corporate
America, trial lawyers, drug dealers anywhere a buck is to be made.

The cost to Americans, taxpayers, citizens, and the social, moral, economic
and political cohesion of the U.S. is immense. When we fail to reform the
immigration and visa system, we invite corruption and disintegration.

The late African-American congresswoman Barbara Jordan, co-chair of the
bipartisan U.S. Commission on Immigration Reform, may have said it best:

"We disagree with those who would label efforts to control immigration as
being inherently anti-immigrant. Rather, it is both a right and a
responsibility of a democratic society to manage immigration so that it
serves the national interest."

Next time, Part V Immigration and the Poor: How the states, the poor,
the middle class, African-Americans, earlier immigrants are paying for the
failures of our immigration policy vis ` vis the Third World. How
affirmative action and SBA loans benefit immigrants more than blacks. Why
is Congress so sluggish in addressing this most serious problem? Why do
Georgia, Minnesota, Pennsylvania and Nebraska have to pay for failures of
American foreign policy? How did the U.S. fall into a trap based on a
distorted view of "compassion" for any person from the Third World who
shows up on our doorstep?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

http://www.vdare.com/misc/elkins_greencards.htm

February 22, 2003
Greenbacks for Green Cards

By Jeff Elkins

While it's undoubtedly true that some of the proponents of open immigration
are motivated by those higher emotions we lesser beings can only aspire to,
it's equally true that some of them are inspired by an emotion a little
more base.

Greed.

Ranging all the way from the bandits smuggling desperate peasants across
the borders of the Southwest to the federal judges who rule the official
immigration process, many individuals earn quite a good living from
immigration, legal and illegal, into the United States. So it's especially
deplorable when already well-compensated officials entrusted with the
administration of legal immigration turn to the dark side, merely to cram a
few more bucks into their wallets.

Congress, which in 1990 created the so-called investor or EB-5 visa
program, unwittingly designed an open invitation to bribery and fraud that
allows foreigners to purchase permanent green cards by "investing" as
little as $500,000 in an American business.

A recent case in example involves Federal Immigration Judge D. Anthony
Rogers.

Caught on tape speaking to James A. Geisler, a principal of now defunct
InterBank Capital Partners, Rogers was quite open about his desire for
cash. Unknown to Rogers, Geisler taped their conversation.

InterBank was a self-described provider of "financial advisory" services,
but in actuality it was a felonious boiler-room scam operation dedicated to
taking fraudulent advantage of the EB-5 visa program.

As recorded, Judge Rogers sounded more like the corrupt senator in
Godfather II, hitting up Michael Corleone for payoffs in exchange for Vegas
gambling concessions, than a principled jurist.

"Let me go ahead and just be as abrupt as I can about it. If you think for
some reason or other I am going to bring you $30 million worth of potential
investors for a $20,000-a-head pop, I'm not interested in doing that,"
Rogers said. "I'm not that dumb."

"You can pay a referral fee for anybody that sends you a piece of business,
you can do that. I believe that we were talking about a more coordinated
and partnership approach to a relationship with you all in which we were
going to be able, theoretically, to provide you all with a significant
amount of investor money," Rogers continued.

Rogers went on to brag that he and his partner had connections all over the
Middle East and had a "relationship" with unnamed Arab sheik.

Geisler urged caution, saying "I don't want you in trouble, and I don't
want to be in trouble with the INS.



Back to archives