The next humanitarian crisis: What the southwest border crisis foreshadows about climate-driven migration

CARLY KABOT: As the United States experiences the highest migrant surge in over two decades at the southwest border, the Biden administration is struggling to handle the rise in unaccompanied migrant children. The Department of Homeland Security’s inability to deal with an unexpected influx of migrants is a warning for the future. As more frequent and intense natural disasters drive migrants from their homes in unprecedented numbers, today’s crisis will pale in comparison to the potential disaster that awaits inaction. 

The southwest border crisis has highlighted a change in policy from the Trump administration. Instead of sending migrants back to Mexico, the Biden administration is allowing children to remain in the U.S. in federal custody. However, this means over 4,000 children are being held in overcrowded detention centers for longer than allowed by the law, and already poor conditions are raising fears about the spread of COVID-19. The border crisis is bureaucracy at its worst: the delay between when minors are processed at Border Patrol facilities and when they are transferred to the Department of Health and Human Services is a failure of capacity building. 

“The Border Patrol facilities have become crowded with children, and the 72-hour timeframe for the transfer of children from the Border Patrol to HHS is not always met. HHS has not had the capacity to intake the number of unaccompanied children we have been encountering,” remarked Homeland Security Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas in a statement on March 16, after the administration faced sharp criticism from both parties. 

Telling migrants “Do not come” after reversing many Trump-era immigration policies is a confusing and misleading move for migrants and the American people. The pandemic has not halted the drivers of migration— it has worsened them. In addition to a dramatic increase in unemployment, Central America was devastated by several hurricanes this fall, and many communities are still living with the damage. Already reeling from the pandemic's economic effects, hurricane Iota and Eta decimated crops in the midst of harvest season. With nothing to eat nor sell, many families “had no choice except to flee.” The most active Atlantic hurricane season recorded was only a preview of what’s to come. 

Without decisive action on climate change, the number of migrants arriving from Central America and Mexico could reach 1.5 million a year by 2050, up from about 700,000 in 2025. By acting as a risk multiplier, climate change exacerbates the conditions that drive migration, including increased hunger, poverty, and conflict. If policymakers fail to plan for this influx of climate migrants, the next humanitarian crisis at the border will be far more than the U.S. can handle. 

Across the Dry Corridor— composed of Guatemala, El Salvador, Nicaragua and Honduras— farmers face declining crop yields, with prolonged droughts and extreme weather devastating the staple crops their communities depend on. More than a quarter of the population does not have enough money to buy basic foods, and there is more than an 80% chance that extreme weather events will impact the next harvest season. As crop yields decrease, incomes will drop, and malnutrition will rise. Instead of staying in school, food-insecure students will have to forgo their education to work, raising the likelihood of childhood marriage, gang recruitment, and teenage pregnancy. 

Climate change disproportionately impacts the most vulnerable. Across the globe, women and indigenous communities— who both often face structural, legal, and institutionalized discrimination— are especially at risk. In Guatemala, Over 79% of the indigenous population lives in poverty, and the rate of extreme poverty is nearly double that of the rest of the country at 40%. With over 75% of the indigenous community— who make up roughly half of the population— living in rural areas, they are heavily dependent on agriculture. As the effects of climate change drive them deeper into poverty, they are left with no other option than to migrate. Of the 250,000 Guatemalan migrants apprehended at the U.S. border since October 2018, the overwhelming majority were from the country’s twenty-four indigenous communities. Unless both the international community and regional governments embed climate-driven migration into development strategies, environmental degradation will continue to undermine poverty reduction. The number of migrants on the U.S.-Mexico border will likely grow. 

This is the reality America must prepare for. The sooner the Biden administration begins addressing climate change and migration together, the better off the country will be in the future. Now is the time to prepare—waiting positions ourselves for a humanitarian and political crisis we will be unequipped to control. 

First, the U.S. must work with developing countries to embed climate-driven migration into development strategies. Collaborating with private actors, civil society, and international organizations in the most at-risk regions will be essential for success. Most countries have poorly prepared laws, policies, and strategies to deal with significant population shifts. By implementing climate migration into all aspects of policy, nations can secure better resilience and development outcomes before, during, and after migration. 

Second, the Biden administration should pursue multilateral diplomacy to find trade solutions that equitably benefit all parties economically and environmentally. America must acknowledge our government's role in creating these conditions and take responsibility to justly respond to the impending crisis our policies have helped enable. Climate change knows no borders, and those in other countries bear the high costs of American pollution. However, particularly in Central America, free trade agreements like the DR-CAFTA, ratified by Guatemala, Nicaragua, El Salvador, Honduras, Costa Rica, the Dominican Republic and the United States, place profit over protection. U.S. and international corporations profit from resource extraction while local populations are displaced or disenfranchised. 

Third, America needs to build the physical infrastructure and legal capacity to manage climate-driven migration without violating human rights or international law. The Department of Homeland Security must reimagine its strategy for dealing with unaccompanied minors, as warehouse-like structures with poor sanitation and health— both physical and mental— resources are no place for children, regardless of the circumstances. Additionally, the U.S. should advocate for the legal recognition of climate migrants as refugees under domestic and international law. Despite the 2020 Human Rights U.N. ruling on climate refugees, these individuals still lack official legal status or incorporation into the 1951 Refugee Convention. If American wants to uphold its tradition of being a place for refuge, we need to take a leading role in granting this population the legal rights they deserve. 

Preparing for the worst-case scenario is never the easy thing to do. Yet, the outcome of ignoring the scale and scope of the threat of climate-driven migration will be beyond anything like we have seen before. The current crisis at the border is now a political failure of both parties— and of an outdated immigration system that Republican and Democratic presidents have not been able to fix. President Biden has an opportunity to set the nation on a different path. In doing so, we can stay true to American values, take on our moral responsibility and secure a better future for Americans and our neighbors alike. 

Carly Kabot is the Editor-in-Chief  of On the Record. She is a sophomore studying International Politics and Religion, Ethics, and World Affairs in the School of Foreign Service.