By ann summers
Stephen “dont call me Space Cowboy Maurice” Miller has shrewdly used his time to feather his own WH nest by controlling immigration policy while his noisier counterpart Steve Bannon was fighting with everybody else.
One can see how Miller’s time working for Sessions has seen the curious direction of US demographic policies back to pre-Civil Rights Era sensibilities that fit the malevolence of Lord Dampnut. Immigrants and by twisted inference, PoC will become enemies of the state,
In matters of allowing racial others entry or existence, Miller knows that it is all about the numbers, and unfortunately, another interwar regime in Europe was also quite circumspect in its being careful about demography rather than democracy.
I asked the officials how Miller, with his limited experience in the executive branch, had become such a formidable bureaucrat so quickly. “Look at who the senior advisers to the President were and are—Bannon, Kushner—Miller’s the only one with prior government experience,” the State Department official told me. “He knows something about government, and it turns out to be useful. He saw how the sausage was made. And he’s smart enough to make his own sausage.” The chaos of the Trump Administration helped. “The White House remains in utter disarray,” the official said. “If you don’t have an established set of procedures in place, it’s very easy to create your own process.”
One of the White House officials I spoke to described the process as a harbinger of how immigration issues will be handled in the future. “The Domestic Policy Council is going to influence other processes that involve immigration,” the official said. “It’s going to get worse and worse.”[…]
Miller was expanding his influence. “He’s figured out early on that, just being at the D.P.C., he’s not going to be able to make key decisions unless he co-opts the N.S.C.,” the official went on. “He needs the security element attached to it. He’s worked to get himself in traditional N.S.C. decisions so that he can say, ‘This isn’t just me. We ran this by the N.S.C.’ It started with one or two issues. But it’s becoming anything that has to do with refugees, vetting, immigration, or security. Because he’s an assistant to the President, what person is going to say to him, ‘No, you can’t sit in on my meeting.’ The reason Stephen Miller is so dangerous? He’s clearly got a vision. He knows about narrative, about messaging. He’s figuring this out.”
One only has to look at Miller’s progress of bureaucratic demolition, rather than the fancifully misnamed, Bannonist “deconstruction of the administrative state” to see how a RW policy fiefdom has been created from the chaos fomented by Trumpian appointment of toadies and unqualified sycophants.
Rather than providing the critique that a deconstruction could provide, it is the simple resurrection of the same Jim Crow hatred that promoted the construction of Confederate statues in the 1920s, their reactionary reenactors in the 1960s, and our current flock of punchable tiki-torchers.
What Whitman’s book reminds us is that the US anti-miscegenation and citizenship laws were always about white supremacy cloaking itself in the flag and that was as attractive to the national socialists in Germany as they are to today’s neo-nazis.
Contrary to those who have insisted that there was no meaningful connection between American and German racial repression, Whitman demonstrates that the Nazis took a real, sustained, significant, and revealing interest in American race policies.
But while Jim Crow segregation was one aspect of American law that appealed to Nazi radicals, it was not the most consequential one. Rather, both American citizenship and antimiscegenation laws proved directly relevant to the two principal Nuremberg Laws—the Citizenship Law and the Blood Law. Whitman looks at the ultimate, ugly irony that when Nazis rejected American practices, it was sometimes not because they found them too enlightened, but too harsh.
Bill Moyers: You begin the book with a meeting of Nazi Germany’s leading lawyers on June 5, 1934, which happens, coincidentally, to be the day I was born.
James Whitman: Oh boy, you were born under a dark star.
Moyers: To be sure. Adolf Hitler had been chancellor of the Reich for a year and a half. Nazis were rapidly consolidating their hold over Germany. And this was no gathering of everyday, garden-variety lawyers..
Whitman: No, it wasn’t. It was chaired by Hitler’s minister of justice and attended by the leading figures among Nazi lawyers.
Moyers: Why had they gathered? What was their mission?
Whitman: They were there to begin crafting what would eventually become the notorious Nuremberg Laws, which were promulgated a little bit more than a year later, in September of 1935. Those laws would be the culmination of the first phase of the Nazi program of persecution directed against German Jewry. And they were there to respond to the demands of radical Nazis for the creation of a new kind of race state in Germany.
On August 2, 2017, Miller had a heated exchange with CNN‘s Jim Acosta at the White House daily briefing regarding the Trump administration’s support for the RAISE Act to sharply limit legal immigration and favor immigrants with high English proficiency. Acosta said that the proposal was at odds with American traditions concerning immigration and noted that the Statue of Liberty welcomes immigrants to the U.S., invoking verses from Emma Lazarus‘s The New Colossus. Miller disputed the connection between the Statute of Liberty and immigration, pointing out that “the poem that you’re referring to, that was added later, is not actually a part of the original Statue of Liberty.” Miller added that immigration has “ebbed and flowed” throughout American history and asked how many immigrants the U.S. had to accept annually to “meet Jim Acosta’s definition of the Statue of Liberty law of the land.” Distinguishing between the Statue of Liberty and Lazarus’s poem has been a popular talking point among the anti-Semitic alt-right.
Imagine then a fleet or a ship in which there is a captain who is taller and stronger than any of the crew, but he is a little deaf and has a similar infirmity in sight, and his knowledge of navigation is not much better. The sailors are quarreling with one another about the steering––every one is of the opinion that he has a right to steer, though he has never learned the art of navigation and cannot tell who taught him or when he learned, and will further assert that it cannot be taught, and they are ready to cut in pieces any one who says the contrary. They throng about the captain, begging and praying him to commit the helm to them; and if at any time they do not prevail, but others are preferred to them, they kill the others or throw them overboard, and having first chained up the noble captain’s senses with drink or some narcotic drug, they mutiny and take possession of the ship and make free with the stores; thus, eating and drinking, they proceed on their voyage in such a manner as might be expected of them. Him who is their partisan and cleverly aids them in their plot for getting the ship out of the captain’s hands into their own whether by force or persuasion, they compliment with the name of sailor, pilot, able seaman, and abuse the other sort of man, whom they call a good-for-nothing; but that the true pilot must pay attention to the year and seasons and sky and stars and winds, and whatever else belongs to his art, if he intends to be really qualified for the command of a ship, and that he must and will be the steerer, whether other people like or not––the possibility of this union of authority with the steerer’s art has never seriously entered into their thoughts or been made part of their calling. Now in vessels which are in a state of mutiny and by sailors who are mutineers, how will the true pilot be regarded? Will he not be called by them a prater, a star-gazer, a good-for-nothing? 
The MS St. Louis was a German ocean liner. In 1939, it set off on a voyage in which its captain, Gustav Schröder, tried to find homes for over 900 Jewish refugees from Germany. After they were denied entry to Cuba, the United States, and Canada, the refugees were finally accepted in various European countries, including Belgium, the Netherlands, the UK, and France. Historians have estimated that approximately a quarter of them died in death camps during World War II. The event was the subject of a 1974 book, Voyage of the Damned, by Gordon Thomas and Max Morgan-Witts. It was adapted for a 1976 U.S. film of the same title and a 1994 opera titled “St. Louis Blues” by Chiel Meijering.