In the blistering heat of an Alabama summer, construction sites stand silent. Half-built recreation centers, schools, and homes languish as deadlines pass and costs spiral. This isn’t the result of a natural disaster or economic collapse—it’s the direct consequence of federally sanctioned immigration raids targeting the very workers who keep Alabama’s economy running.
Under the guise of “national security” and “economic stability,” the Trump administration has unleashed Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) on communities across Alabama, from Mobile to Auburn. But behind the rhetoric of “law and order” lies a brutal truth: these raids are not about protecting Americans. They are about maintaining a system that thrives on exploited labor, fractures solidarity, and props up the powerful at the expense of the vulnerable.
In June 2025, ICE agents stormed a construction site in Gulf Shores, detaining 36 workers and bringing a $20 million taxpayer-funded project to a grinding halt. The email exchanges between contractors and city officials reveal panic: subcontractors scrambled to replace detained laborers, while projects faced weeks of delays and penalties of $4,000 per day.
The ripple effects are devastating. In Tampa, Florida, labor costs have doubled as immigrant workers—fearing detention—demand “hazard pay” to compensate for the risk of simply showing up to work. In Alabama, industries like agriculture, hospitality, and construction are facing crippling shortages. As one economist noted, “It’s going to make a tight labor market tighter”.
But who benefits? Not the workers, who are forced into hiding or deportation. Not the communities, which lose vital services and tax revenue. The only winners are the corporations and politicians who profit from a divided, desperate workforce.
ICE’s tactics are designed to terrorize. In Lee County, raids on restaurants led to 40 arrests, with detainees funneled into expedited deportation proceedings. Families are torn apart; children come home to find parents missing. Even legal residents and U.S. citizens are avoiding public spaces, fearing profiling based on “skin color or accent”.
State laws amplify this cruelty. Alabama’s new legislation criminalizes transporting undocumented immigrants—a move so broad it could implicate family members, landlords, or even churches offering shelter. Tennessee has gone further, threatening elected officials with felony charges for supporting sanctuary policies. These laws are not about safety; they are about codifying oppression.
As one construction CEO admitted, “Our industry has to have the Hispanic immigrant-based workers” 5. Yet instead of acknowledging this dependence, the state vilifies these same workers, scapegoating them for economic struggles caused by decades of corporate greed and policy failure.
Proponents of the raids claim they’re defending American workers. But data tells a different story:
The real issue isn’t immigration; it’s exploitation. Employers rely on undocumented labor precisely because they can pay poverty wages and avoid accountability. Rather than address this, ICE raids intensify the cycle: workers become more disposable, wages stagnate, and labor rights erode for everyone.
As one activist bluntly put it, “Immigration secures a class of disposable labor for capitalists”.
In Los Angeles, communities have shown us the way forward. When ICE agents descended on a Home Depot parking lot, they were met with rocks, barricades, and chants of “Chinga la migra!”. The protests spread, fueled by years of anger at a system that criminalizes poverty and rewards brutality.
This isn’t just about immigration; it’s about collective liberation. As Black organizers have emphasized, “Every phase of repression is a danger to us” 15. When we allow ICE to terrorize one group, we empower the state to terrorize us all.
The raids in Alabama are not isolated incidents. They are part of a broader assault on working people—a tactic to divert attention from soaring corporate profits, crumbling infrastructure, and a political system rigged against the masses.
Here’s how we fight back:
Alabama’s ICE raids are a symptom of a dying system—one that would rather punish the vulnerable than address its own failures. But as the cracks widen, so does the resistance. From construction sites to city plazas, ordinary people are rising up to say: No more.
The future of Alabama—and America—depends on which side we choose: the side of fear, or the side of solidarity. The time for silence is over.
Stand up. Fight back.