In 2011, he began appearing at forums sponsored by the Arizona Employers for Immigration Reform, from which the SANE initiative eventually would spring.
At one such public forum in May at the Competitive Enterprise Institute in Washington, D.C., Montgomery walked a fine line.
Chris Whetzel
Courtesy of the Flores Family
Octavio Castaneda Flores, his wife, Brenda, and their three children, each of whom is a U.S. citizen.
Related Content
More About
While defending Russell Pearce as "neither a bigot nor a racist" and insisting that Arizona had suffered an immigration-related onslaught that included "beheadings," he dismissed mass deportations of the undocumented as impractical and inhumane and suggested a "three-year hiatus against enforcement" of immigration laws as the undocumented come forward to register under the SANE plan.
Montgomery spoke of growing up "just south of South Central Los Angeles in a predominately Hispanic neighborhood" and avowed that his Roman Catholic faith is "heavily influenced" by Hispanic culture.
Nevertheless, he continues the systematic policy of persecution authored by Thomas and Pearce, one that adheres to the slogan "attrition through enforcement" — the stated intent of SB 1070, Arizona's "papers, please" law.
Though Prop 100 preceded SB 1070 by four years, it was one of several laws and ballot initiatives designed to drive undocumented Hispanics from the state.
It mainly was pushed by Pearce and his fellow nativists, who were openly antagonistic toward the undocumented.
A March 2008 Arizona Republic article on Prop 100 and its effects paraphrased Thomas' calling the constitutional amendment a "de facto deportation tool" in which undocumented defendants are hit with felonies, held without bond, and effectively coerced into pleading guilty.
When Thomas was deposed in 2010 for the ACLU's legal challenge to Prop 100, he doubled down on that statement, crowing that his office lobbied for Prop 100 and that it was part of his "program" to address illegal immigration.
By charging illegal immigrants with felonies, "a deterrent message goes forward to other would-be illegal immigrants," Thomas said under oath, "that they should not violate the law and come into Arizona illegally."
Additionally, Thomas offered his reason for "obtaining a felony conviction" against an undocumented person before turning over him or her to ICE:
"It will make it harder for that convicted person to immigrate legally to the United States or become a U.S. citizen."
Unlike Montgomery, who depicts the pursuit of felonies against the undocumented as something he has no power to change, Thomas specifically referred to his "policy direction to seek a felony conviction for those cases."
Thomas called this "my own no-amnesty policy," because it makes it more difficult "for those people prosecuted and convicted in that way to receive amnesty and become citizens if they have a felony conviction."
Thomas and his allies in the Arizona Legislature knew exactly what they were doing. The proposition was sold to the public as a way, in the words of Russell Pearce, to keep "dangerous thugs" incarcerated.
"By voting yes for this initiative," Pearce wrote in a statement that appeared in the Arizona Secretary of State's 2006 voter's guide, "we keep violent criminals in jail."
Undocumented aliens were to be charged with "serious felony offenses as prescribed by the [L]egislature," in the words of the constitutional amendment. It was not made clear that these "serious" offenses would include such non-violent transgressions as making up a Social Security number or using a fake ID to obtain employment.
Lack of valid documentation is the very definition of "undocumented." Those residing in Arizona without authorization cannot obtain driver's licenses, and Mexican Consulate-issued matricular cards and Mexican driver's licenses are viewed with suspicion by law enforcement.
Additionally, under the portion of 1070 upheld by the U.S. Supreme Court, "reasonable suspicion" on the part of a law enforcement officer is enough for detention and an immigration inquiry.
The combination of SB 1070, Prop 100, routine stops by law enforcement, and Arpaio's notorious immigration roundups and raids created a situation in which every undocumented resident of this state is a potential felon waiting to be convicted, separated from his or her family, and sent packing.
Prop 100's legislative history, the statements of Thomas and Pearce, and the U.S. Department of Justice's 2011 findings that Arpaio's raids and sweeps specifically target Latinos — in violation of the 14th Amendment's guarantee of equal protection under the law — all belie Montgomery's rationales for a cruel, bigoted policy.
The Eighth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution explicitly forbids "excessive bail," and Arizona courts have held that bail cannot be used as a means of inflicting punishment, given the presumption of innocence that all defendants should have.
So it would seem that either the courts or the Sheriff's Office or the county prosecutor would know how many people sit non-bondable in Maricopa County Jails under the dictates of Prop 100.
Yet all three entities claim ignorance of this information after repeated inquiries and public-records requests from New Times.
In reality, the MCSO has access to this information through its computerized Jail Management System, as do the county prosecutor and the courts.
And when faced with a subpoena and a deposition under oath during the ACLU's Prop 100 lawsuit, MCSO employees were able to cough up some stats.
In his 2010 deposition, MCSO Sergeant Jonathan Knapp testified that in a five-month period from August to the end of December 2009, 2,070 inmates were booked and held non-bondable under Prop 100, 402 of whom had been arrested by the MCSO.
