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ARBOLEDA’S CASE, say his supporters, epitomizes the injustices immigrants face in the post–September 11 anti-immigrant climate, which has become even more virulent since the ICE was made part of the federal Department of Homeland Security (DHS) last April. To them, his detention represents the "tip of the iceberg" of the hundreds of "pointless" detentions of legal and illegal immigrants who pose no real threat to Americans. Raquel Matthews, the organizer at Voices in Action, sums up the sentiment best: "It’s ridiculous the government is spending our taxes on detaining people like Walter. It’s a terrible miscarriage of justice."

It’s true that the ICE had the legal authority to deport Arboleda. Changes made to immigration law in 1996, under the Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act, have made it more precarious for asylum applicants wishing to challenge denial of their claims. Such immigrants have a right to appeal to the BIA, and the ICE, in turn, must refrain from deporting them until a decision is rendered. But this automatic stay of deportation doesn’t exist at the federal-court level. Instead, asylum-seekers pursuing federal relief can be kicked out of the country while their claims are pending. Which is what happened to Arboleda. Asked why the ICE moved so quickly to deport Arboleda despite his federal appeal — and despite his nonviolent, non-criminal record — the ICE’s Grenier responds, "Unless there is a stay of removal, then we’re going to proceed to remove the alien. Period."

Grenier insists that the agency would have treated Arboleda just as harshly if he had encountered ICE agents pre-9/11. "We deport people who are unlawfully here in the United States all the time," she says. "Even before September 11, if you were here in violation of US law, you were subject to removal proceedings."

Maybe so. But there’s no doubt the agency, under the ultimate direction of US Attorney General John Ashcroft, has tightened enforcement of the 1996 immigration law in the post-9/11 era. "Ashcroft," says Harvey Kaplan, a veteran immigration attorney in Boston, "has got zero tolerance for immigrants." In his 30-year career, Kaplan cannot recall a more oppressive time for immigrants in this country. Federal officials, according to him and many other experts, have stopped distinguishing between individual aliens and the mass view of all immigrants as bad. They’ve stopped distinguishing between those who commit violent acts and those guilty of minor offenses, such as failing to inform the ICE of an address change. Observes Kaplan, "The government is using a hard-core approach on everybody who’s foreign born who may or may not be here legally." Another Boston immigration attorney puts it more bluntly: "Every little problem an immigrant has is as bad as blowing up the World Trade Center."

Take, for example, the ICE special-registration program instituted a year after September 11, 2001. The program, the National Security Entry-Exit Registration System (NSEERS), has targeted male immigrants from some 20 Middle Eastern and African countries that the US government considers terrorist harbors. Under NSEERS, thousands of men have had to line up outside ICE offices nationwide to meet deadlines to register — i.e., to get fingerprinted and answer questions. Not one of them has been charged with any terrorist activity. But some 1200 who overstayed student and tourist visas or committed other minor offenses have been detained and now face deportation.

There’s also the Hartford pilot program that the DHS set up last August. Immigrants who applied for asylum and other forms of protective relief are now finding themselves under arrest as soon as they lose their claims in immigration court, even though they’re entitled to file appeals with the BIA — and even though the ICE has traditionally allowed such immigrants to remain free while on appeal. Officials are now considering whether to expand the pilot nationwide.

Not only are immigrants being arrested in greater numbers, but they’re stuck in detention for longer. Immigration regulations provide for a bail hearing for immigrant detainees; at the hearing, a judge must determine whether the immigrant poses a flight risk or a threat to security. Typically, immigrants like Arboleda, who are pursuing a case and who show up for court appearances, would be released on bail. But these days, says Susan Akram, a Boston University immigration-law professor, "Holding immigrants without applying these risk factors and assessing bail has accelerated since 9/11."

Akram traces the trend back to the weeks after September 11, when federal officials rounded up as many as 5000 Muslim and Arab immigrants in a massive dragnet as part of the 9/11 investigation. At the time, she points out, the US attorney general issued a "no bond" policy instructing the government’s immigration attorneys routinely to oppose bond for all immigrants, regardless of circumstances. Today, Akram explains, "Many immigrants who pose no risk" — including Arboleda — "are being held for months under this draconian policy."

The result of these policy shifts? ICE agents have scooped up hundreds of thousands of legal and illegal immigrants nationwide for minor offenses. In Massachusetts, according to the ICE, as many as 700 immigrants are now being held in rented cells in Plymouth, Bristol, and Norfolk county jails. "People are being detained for months and even years," says Carol Rose, of the American Civil Liberties Union, in Massachusetts, which is tracking the number of immigrants caught up in the system. "They’re held for extremely long periods of time while their cases are being processed."

And if they’re not being held, they’re being deported. At the Boston ICE office, the number of deportations has increased dramatically every year since 9/11. For fiscal year (FY) 2002, the Boston ICE office reported 1414 deportations — up from 1008 in FY 2001 and 818 in FY 2000. "The attitude," Kaplan says, "is to deport them all. Better to make a mistake and deport someone than allow someone to stay."

Critics like Kaplan decry such trends. For one thing, they argue, locking up immigrants for civil violations is costly. Currently, according to the ICE, the agency pays Massachusetts jails approximately $80 per bed per day to house immigrants. That means that it spent as much as $5280 to lock up Arboleda, a man who’s never committed a crime. And that’s the price of housing just one of the 700 Massachusetts immigrants detained today. It’s a lot of money when you consider that these detentions aren’t necessarily protecting Americans, critics say. As Kerry Doyle, chair of the New England Chapter of the American Immigration Lawyers Association, states, "I just don’t see the system working to improve our national security. Instead, hard-working, tax-paying immigrants are being scapegoated."

Ultimately, today’s harsh immigration policies serve to undermine immigrants’ due-process rights. When decent people can find themselves stuck in jail while their federal appeals are pending, many are persuaded to relinquish the fight. More often than not, immigrants opt to leave the country voluntarily — and to go back to places they had fled — because they cannot stand detention. "They cannot tolerate life in jail, so they’re leaving and giving up their due-process rights," says Saher Macarius, a Framingham immigration attorney. He has represented dozens of immigrants from Egypt, Lebanon, Algeria, and Italy who were picked up by ICE on deportation orders, thrown in prison, and subsequently left or were deported. The trend, he says, "is widespread. It has been an easy way for ICE to circumvent the appeals process."

Immigration officials see things differently. That people choose to leave the US while on appeal doesn’t mean the ICE has denied them a day in court — indeed, their cases are pending. Even if immigrants are deported, they can still pursue their appeals in federal court. In Arboleda’s case, Grenier says, "This individual had the opportunity to exercise his due-process rights and, unfortunately for him, he’s had to depart the United States." But his appeal will go forward. In the meantime, she adds, "We are going to remove people who are in the United States unlawfully. That’s our job."

BUT ARBOLEDA’S deportation has effectively killed his asylum appeal. What is there to appeal now that he’s gone? As Arboleda puts it, "Nothing can help me and my case now."

For him, then, the future seems tenuous. In Bogotá, where he landed on December 16, Arboleda has been reminded of all the reasons he fled his homeland in the first place. Everywhere, he sees signs of the civil war and unrest gripping Colombia. Everywhere, he says, "are people with guns." Standing on bridges, walking the streets, holding court in alleys. "Colombia," he says, "is a different country now."

Arboleda admits that he is frightened. He worries the guerrilla groups will catch up to him. He worries they’ll make good on their deadly promises. And so, he plans to stay in Colombia only long enough to meet up with Escobar, who quit her data-entry job and left Boston late last month. ("After what happened to Walter," she tells me, "I have no choice.") Once they’re reunited in Colombia, the couple’s options will be more open. Indeed, Arboleda has received several chemist-job offers from companies in Europe. There, he explains with a hint of optimism, he and Escobar could live in peace without all the immigration hassles.

Still, his immigration ordeal in the US has left Arboleda feeling betrayed — and confused. He doesn’t understand why so many things "went wrong" in his asylum case. Why he was denied bail. Why he was deported so swiftly. Why he was locked up "like a common criminal." All he wanted was to have a safe life, free from persecution, and to contribute to his new community. "I never thought things would come to this," he says. "Before 9/11," he adds, "immigrants had opportunity and rights. Now, we don’t."

Kristen Lombardi can be reached at klombardi[a]phx.com